of stones, a flat and a sharp one, to cut it shorter. He did cut it
shorter, but at the same time kindled the match. Both shouted their
loudest, and sprang at the basket, but the man at the windlass could not
lift the double weight. You see, Sir, it was certain death to both of
them, unless one should give way. Then Coe jumped out, crying to father
'Go aloft, John. In one minute I shall be in heaven.' It was he who had
caused the disaster, and therefore, as he doubtless thought, should be
the one to suffer for it; besides, he reflected, perhaps, that he was an
old man, and had no bride at home to mourn for him; still, it was a
noble deed, and I never denied it."

"Denied it!" exclaimed Richard; "I should think not. Why should you?"
and he looked up with wonder into his companion's face. It was one blush
from brow to chin.

"Well, Sir," continued she, disregarding his interruption, "my father
was hurried up; and as he looked over the basket the charge exploded,
and the great stones flew up and blackened his face. In a minute more he
was safe above-ground."

"But the poor man below?"

"He was dead, Sir. It could not have been otherwise. Father took it so
to heart that he never did a day's work underground again. And when I
was born, a few months afterward, I was christened Harry--though that's
a lad's name--in memory of the friend that saved his life by the
sacrifice of his own."

"He might well have done that, and even more," said Richard, "if more
could have been done."