has accumulated in the shaft and now resists the water, which ebbs back."
"It is the foul air that we have to fear... The water is not rising a foot now; the mine must be full..."
"Where's Marius?" cried Pages, thinking of his only son, who worked on the third level.
"Oh, Marius! Marius," he shrieked.
There was no reply, not even an echo. His voice did not go beyond our "bell."
Was Marius saved? One hundred and fifty men drowned! That would be too horrible. One hundred and fifty men, at least, had gone down into the mine, how many had been able to get out by the shafts, or had found a refuge like ourselves?
There was now utter silence in the mine. At our feet the water was quite still, not a ripple, not a gurgle. The mine was full. This heavy silence, impenetrable and deathly, was more stupefying than the frightful uproar that we had heard when the water first rushed in. We were in a tomb, buried alive, more than a hundred feet under ground. We all seemed to feel the awfulness of our situation. Even the professor seemed crushed down. Suddenly, I felt some warm drops fall on my hand. It was Carrory.... He was crying, silently. Then came a voice, shrieking:
"Marius! my boy, Marius!"
The air was heavy to breathe; I felt suffocated; there was a buzzing in my ears. I was afraid, afraid of the water, the darkness, and death. The
