voices of the cavern. She did not faint, but strangely she felt that now she knew what the end, what Death, must be like.
The human voices were coming nearer, and around the elbow, the flickering flame of a torch illumined the walls of the curving passage with a ghostly light.
A shadowy form leaped up from the hole, uncovered by the stone when it fell. The form was at her side. It, too, had a voice, and her heart started beating again, as she heard the musical accent.
"You are safe—thank God!"
"Quick, they are coming!" She managed to gasp out the whisper.
He seized her around the waist.
"Look out, there are steps there," and he drew her down into the dark passage, infinitely more cheerful than the gloom above, for he was with her, and, far away, flickered a little light, a taper set in its own wax, in a stone orifice.
Leaping up the steps again, with surprising strength the Frenchman pulled the tablet of stone over the opening into place again. They paused, listening to the muffled footsteps and the raging voice of the gambler.
"Gone by ! We're done for."
Through the dark passage, one of Nature's natural tunnels extended by the old owners of the place, he guided her towards the little light.
As they went, the rumblings sounded again, faint and far away.
"The Sleeping Giant is turning over in his dreams. But
