The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Pirate Story Megapack - R.M. Ballantyne страница 160

Название: The Pirate Story Megapack

Автор: R.M. Ballantyne

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия:

isbn: 9781479408948

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ “there are the planks; and they’re not more than thirty feet above us at the farthest.”

      “An yit they’re as much out of our raich as though they were a hundred, so they are.”

      “I’d rather have the thirty feet, at any rate,” said Bart. “Come now; can’t we manage to get farther up.”

      “Nivir a farther,” said Pat. “We’ve got to the ind of our journey.”

      “Come now,” said Bart. “See here, Pat. You spoke of a tunnel once. In fact we came down here with the pickaxe on purpose to make a tunnel to the money-hole. Well, we’re after something more precious than money—life itself. Can’t we tunnel up to life?”

      “Tunnel, is it?” cried Pat, in great excitement. “Of coorse we can. Ye’ve jist hit it, so you have. It’s what we’ll do. We will thin.”

      “The soil here seems like clay; and if we cut up behind this casing, it’ll be comparatively safe,” said Bart. “We need only cut up to the planks.”

      “Sure an we’ll have to cut up to the top.”

      “O, no! When we get to the planks, we can break through, and climb them like a ladder to the top. Once up to the planks, and we’re safe.”

      “Break through the plankin is it? Sure enough; right are you; that’s what we’ll do, so it is.”

      “And so that makes only thirty feet to cut away. It’ll be hard work cutting upwards; but you and I ought to manage it, Pat, when our lives are at stake.”

      “Manage it? Of coorse; why not? Only we haven’t got that bit of a pick with us, so we haven’t, for we left it down below; an sorra one of me knows what’s become of it. It may be buried under the roons of the fallin logs.”

      At this Bart looked at Pat with something like consternation.

      “Well,” said he at length, “we’ll have to go down again—one of us; we must have that pickaxe. I’ll go.”

      “Sure an you won’t,” said Pat; “meself’s the one that’s goin to go.”

      “No, you shan’t. Poh! Don’t be absurd.”

      “Sure I’m bound to go; and so don’t you go too. There’s not the laste nicissity in life for both of us to go.”

      “O, well, then,” said Bart, “we’ll have to toss up for it. That’s all.”

      And saying this, he took out a piece of money, and said to Pat—

      “Head or Tail?”

      “Tail,” said Pat.

      Bart tossed. Pat lost. It was Pat’s business therefore to go down.

      “Sure an it’s aisy climbin,” said Pat, “an the pick’ll be a help whin I returrun.”

      With these words he departed.

      Seated on the log, Bart looked down, watching Pat’s descent. They had climbed about half way up the pit, and Pat had about fifty feet to go down. Looking down, it was dark, and Pat at length disappeared from view. Bart could only hear him as he moved about. At length there was a deep stillness.

      Bart grew alarmed.

      “Pat!” he called.

      No answer came.

      “Pat!” he called again.

      Still no answer.

      “Pat!” he called, as loud as he could, for he was now thoroughly frightened. As he called, he put his feet over, and prepared to descend.

      “I’m here,” Pat’s voice came up. “Don’t come down. I’m coming up.”

      These words filled Bart with a feeling of immense relief. He now heard Pat moving again, and at length saw him ascending. Nearer he came, and nearer. But Bart noticed that he did not have the pickaxe. He feared by this that it had been buried beneath the fallen logs. If so, their situation was as desperate as ever. But he said not a word.

      Pat at length reached the place where Bart was, and flung himself down, panting heavily. Bart watched him in silence.

      “The pickaxe is buried,” said he at length, “I suppose.”

      “Worse,” said Pat, with something like a groan.

      “Worse?” repeated Bart in dismay.

      “Yis, worse,” said Pat. “The water’s comin in. There’s six feet of it, an more too. The hole’s flooded, an fillin up.”

      At this awful intelligence Bart sat petrified with horror, and said not one word.

      “It’s the diggin away at the casin,” said Pat, dolefully, “an the cuttin away of the earth, that’s done the business, so it is. I can onderstand it all easy enough. Sure this pit’s close by the money-hole, an the bottom of it’s close by the drain that they towld us of. An them that made this hole didn’t dare to go one inch further. An that’s the very thing, so it is, that we’ve done. We’ve cut, and dug, and broke through into the drain. What’s worse, all the casin an all the earth’s broke and fallen down. An there’s no knowin the mischief we’ve done. Any how, we’ve broke through to the “drain”—bad luck to it; and the water’s jist now a powerin in fast enough. Sure it’s got to the top of them logs that we stood upon end—the long ones; and they’re more’n six feet long, an it’s risin ivery minit, so it is, an it’s comin up, an it’ll soon be up to this place, so it will. An sure it’s lost an done for we are intirely, an there you have it.”

      After this dreadful intelligence, not a word was spoken for a long time. Pat had said his say, and had nothing to add to it. Bart had heard it, and had nothing to say. He was dumb. They were helpless. They could go no farther. Here they were on this log, half way up the pit, but unable to ascend any further, and with the prospect before them of swift and inevitable destruction.

      They had worked long and diligently. Not one mouthful had they eaten since morning; but in their deep anxiety, they had felt no hunger. They had labored as those only can labor who are struggling for life. And this was the end. But all this time they had not been conscious of the passage of the hours; yet those hours had been flying by none the less. Time had been passing during their long labor at the logs below—how much time they had never suspected.

      The first indication which they had of this lapse of time was the discovery which they now made of a gradually increasing gloom. At first they attributed this to the gathering of clouds over the sky above; but after a time the gloom increased to an extent which made itself apparent even to their despairing minds. And what was it? Could it be twilight? Could it be evening? Was it possible that the day had passed away? Long indeed had the time seemed; yet, even in spite of this, they felt an additional shock at this discovery. Yet it was true. It was evening. The day was done. They two had passed the day in this pit. This was night that was now coming swiftly on.

      They remained motionless and silent. Nothing could be done; and the thoughts of each were too deep for utterance. Words were useless now. In the mind of each there was an awful expectation СКАЧАТЬ