itated for a moment, and then, raising the bar once more, drove it
through with all his force.

The effect was very different to what he had anticipated, for he must
have dislodged a goodly-sized piece of coal on the other side, and as he
snatched back the bar there was a fierce rush of water in a spurt as big
as a man's arm, whose flash Philip Hexton just saw, and then the lamp
was extinguished.

The noise was so great--such a fierce, hissing roar--that the cry
uttered by Ebenezer Parks was half drowned; while, in less time than it
takes to tell it, the young deputy felt a sudden shock as a rush of cold
water bathed his face and head, acting so magically that he rose
quickly, and, with the water rising above his ankles, began to feel his
way along the stony wall, as fast as he could, in the direction in which
he had come.

The confusion from the blow was rapidly passing away, cleared as it was
by a great horror--that of being overtaken and drowned in the flooding
mine, and, sometimes striking himself heavily, but always making
progress, he waded on.

Still it was slow work, for the water seemed to hinder him, and he had
reached a curve where the gallery took a fresh direction when there was
a fiercer roar behind, one which betokened that the water was forcing
for itself a greater way; and so it proved, for in a very few moments
the rushing icy stream was above his knees.

It was very horrible there in the darkness, listening to the gurgling
rush of the water, ever increasing in violence; but forgetting self for
the moment, Philip wondered where his assailant could be, and then,
hearing nothing, he began to think of the men in the pit, and whether
they would have time to escape.

All depended, he knew, upon whether the wall of coal between the two
mines stood firm where Ebenezer's bar had not struck, and hoping this
would be so, but despairing of his own life now, he waded on, the water
being far above his knees.

"I shall never find my way in the dark," he groaned, with a chilly
feeling of horror creeping over him, and placing his hands above his
throbbing breast as if to check the beating of his heart, he uttered a
cry of joy, for they came in contact with the lamp.

It was, of course, extinct as he tore it from his breast, but he had
matches in his pocket far above where the water had yet reached.

It was a risk, but he must chance the gas. The air caused by the
rushing water might have swept it away, and