might be,
with all his strength; and then, too, like the apostle, _he knew in Whom
he trusted_.

No, Lance was not afraid of death on his own account; it was for the
weak timorous girl by his side that all his sympathies were aroused.
Doubtless she too possessed a faith firm enough to enable her to meet
her fate undismayed--he believed she _did_; but what terrible bodily
suffering must she pass through before the end came.

But perhaps, after all, he was alarming himself unnecessarily; even now
they might be within a few yards of the outlet and yet not be able to
see it, because, as he suddenly remembered, the passage was curved from
its very commencement.

But then, he also remembered, the passage at its outer end was so narrow
that Blanche had to walk behind him, and here they were, walking hand in
hand and side by side, as they had been ever since they had entered this
interminable passage.

"Blanche," said he, steadying his voice as well as he could, "put out
your hand, dear, and see whether you can reach the right-hand wall."

He felt her lean away from him, and then came her reply in a broken
voice--

"No, Lance, I cannot."

"Why, pet," he exclaimed, "I really believe you are crying."

"Yes, I am," she acknowledged. "Forgive me, Lance dear, I really cannot
help it; I shall be better by and by, perhaps, but--oh! it is _so_
dreadful. You are very brave, and very good to me, but I know you must
have realised it before now--the dreadful truth that _we are lost
here_."

"Tut, tut; nonsense, child," Lance answered cheerily; "why, Blanche, you
will get quite unnerved if you suffer such thoughts to take possession
of you. There, lay your head on my shoulder, darling, and have your cry
comfortably out; you will feel better and braver afterwards."

He put his arm round her as he spoke; and the poor frightened girl laid
her head upon his breast, trustfully as a child, and sobbed as though
her heart would break.

Her companion let her sob on unchecked; he did not even say a word to
comfort her--what _could_ he say, with that frightful suspicion every
moment gathering force and strengthening itself into certainty? No;
better not to say anything; better not to buoy her up with delusive
hopes; and, oh! how thankful he felt that the terrible task of breaking
to her the news of their awful position had been spared him.

The sobs gradually grew less violent, and at length ceased altogether.
Then Blanche raised