Ralph turned back a little, crossed the air-way and went up into the
chambers, thinking to get around the area of the fall. He went a long
way up before he found an unblocked opening. Then, striking across
through the entrances, he came out again, suddenly, to a heading. He
thought it must have curved very rapidly to the right that he should
find it so soon, if it were the one he had been on before. But he
followed it as best he could, stopping very often to catch a few
moments of rest, finding even his light oil-can a heavy burden in his
hands, trying constantly to give strength to his heart and his limbs
by thoughts of the fond greeting that awaited him when once he should
escape from the gloomy passages of the mine.
The heading grew to be very devious. It wound here and there, with
entrances on both sides, it crossed chambers and turned corners till
the boy became so bewildered that he gave up trying to trace it. He
pushed on, however, through the openings that seemed most likely
to lead outward, looking for pathways and trackways, hungering,
thirsting, faint in both body and spirit, till he reached a solid wall
at the side of a long, broad chamber, and there he stopped to consider
which way to turn. He struck some object at his feet. It was a pick.
He looked up at the wall in front of him, and he saw in it the
filled-up entrance through which he had made his way from the Burnham
mine.
It came upon him like a blow, and he sank to the floor in sudden
despair.
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