galleries, there came a sudden and mysterious silence. A few lights
dashed swiftly by in the direction of a distant part of the gallery,
and then there was a sudden sharp issuing of orders, and a dull, ominous
rumble. Some of the visitors turned pale: one woman fainted.

Something had happened. What? "Nothing" (the speaker is fluent, but
uneasy)--"one of the gentlemen, in trying to dislodge a 'specimen'
from the wall, had knocked away a support. There had been a 'cave'--the
gentleman was caught, and buried below his shoulders. It was all right,
they'd get him out in a moment--only it required great care to keep from
extending the 'cave.' Didn't know his name. It was that little man, the
husband of that lively lady with the black eyes. Eh! Hullo, there! Stop
her! For God's sake! Not that way! She'll fall from that shaft. She'll
be killed!"

But the lively lady was already gone. With staring black eyes,
imploringly trying to pierce the gloom, with hands and feet that sought
to batter and break down the thick darkness, with incoherent cries and
supplications following the moving of ignis fatuus lights ahead, she
ran, and ran swiftly!--ran over treacherous foundations, ran by
yawning gulfs, ran past branching galleries and arches, ran wildly, ran
despairingly, ran blindly, and at last ran into the arms of the "Fool of
Five Forks."

In an instant she caught at his hand. "Oh, save him!" she cried. "You
belong here; you know this dreadful place: bring me to him. Tell me
where to go, and what to do, I implore you! Quick, he is dying! Come!"

He raised his eyes to hers, and then, with a sudden cry, dropped the
rope and crowbar he was carrying, and reeled against the wall.