that her hand was held in the large rough hand of the red-jerseyed sufferer; and he, holding her little smooth hot paw, was surprised to find that he did not mind it so much as he expected. She tried to talk, to amuse him, and "take his mind off" his sufferings, but it is very difficult to go on talking in the dark, and presently they found themselves in a silence, only broken now and then by a—
"You all right, Bobbie?"
or an—
"I'm afraid it's hurting you most awfully, Jim. I am so sorry."
And it was very cold.
********
Peter and Phyllis tramped down the long way of the tunnel towards daylight, the candle-grease dripping over Peter's fingers. There were no accidents unless you count Phyllis's catching her frock on a wire, and tearing a long, jagged slit in it, and tripping over her bootlace when it came undone, or going down on her hands-and-knees, all four of which were grazed.
"There's no end to this tunnel," said Phyllis,—and indeed it did seem very very long.
"Stick to it," said Peter; "everything has an end, and you get to it if you only keep all on."
