of all, the face seemed to smile at him with a
promise of hope.

In another instant all the pictures were blotted out, and his whole
world was gulfed by a rush of water in which he sank to fathomless
depths.

After an endless space of time he began slowly to rise, until at
length, to his infinite amazement, he found himself still alive and
gasping for a breath of the blessed air into which he had once more
emerged.

Although his ankles were still bound, his arms were free, and, with
the instinct of self-preservation strong within him, he began,
awkwardly and feebly, to swim. Dazed, fettered, and weighted by
clothing as he was, his utmost efforts would not have carried him more
than a few feet, and then he must have sunk forever in that black
flood. But the strength given him was sufficient, and ere it was
exhausted his hands struck a shelf of rock upon which he finally
managed to drag himself.

On the flinty platform that he thus gained he lay weakly motionless,
chilled to the bone, dimly conscious that he had for a time been
granted a respite from death, but without a hope that it would be much
longer extended.

After a while the sense that he still lived became stronger, and with
it grew the desire for life. Animated by it he sat up and made an
effort to loosen the cord that still bound his ankles. It was tightly
knotted, and the knot was so hardened with the water that for a long
time his trembling fingers could make no impression on it. Still he
persevered, and his exertions infused him with a slight warmth.
Finally the knot yielded and his limbs were free, though so numbed
that it was several minutes before he could stand up.

Knowing nothing of his surroundings he dared not move more than a step
or two in any direction for fear of again plunging into that deadly
water. Nor could he with outstretched arms touch a wall on any side.

"Oh, for a light!" he groaned, "that I might at least see what my tomb
looks like!"

Then he remembered that he actually did possess both matches and a
candle, it having been impressed upon him by old Mark Trefethen that a
miner should never be without those necessities. So he had always
carried them in a pocket of his canvas mining-suit. But were they not
rendered useless by the double wetting he had received that day?

With trembling eagerness he drew forth the silver match-safe that Tom
Trefethen had insisted on presenting to him in token of his gratitude.
It had been ca