The Argosy — page 333: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

310 In the Mist. explain—drew me to it in spite of myself, and just now, before you came, I thought I heard -—-—- There again !” he broke off, seizing my shoulder. ‘‘ Good heavens! 1s it possible you don’t hear it too ?” Was I infected by his delusion, or did I indeed hear a faint muffled cry, seeming, as he had said, to come from the ground beneath our feet P He had watched my face, and his own lighted up with a wild triumph. “Do you believe me now, or are we both dreaming?” he cried ; then, relinquishing my arm, he threw himself on the floor, beating the stones as if he would have torn them up with his bare hands. “Winnie—Winnie! Speak to me—where are you ?” It was no delusion this time: no trick of excited fancy. A voice— not the ‘wail of a soul in pain,” but the voice of a living woman, answered: “I am here, in the vault! Help—come to me!” Noel sprang to his feet, with a cry that rang through the place. ‘Ah, I understand! Dolt that I was not to think of it before! Mr. Glynn—the subterranean passage —— ” I started, and looked back at him with a face as excited as his own. ‘‘But—but how could she ——-” I began. “T don’t know. It is all mystery at present,” he interrupted ; ‘but one thing is certain. By some strange chance she must have discovered the opening in the cliff, and made her way to the vault. The entrance 1s somewhere in the floor. Give me the lantern— quick !” | I handed it to him, and we anxiously examined the pavement, which was of square stone slabs, worn and uneven with age. In one of them, which appeared newer than the rest, was embedded a rusty iron ring. My companion pointed to it without a word, and set down the light. The stone had become firmly fixed in its position, and it required the utmost exertion of our united strength to raise it. When, at length, we succeeded in removing it, a breath of damp cold arr, charged with an earthy odour, came rushing up from the vault beneath. Noel bent over the opening, gazing down anxiously as he swung the lantern to and fro. Its rays fell on what looked like a heap of light drapery, huddled together at the further end of the vault. ‘She is there!” he breathed; ‘‘but—but she does not speak or stir. Suppose—suppose we are too late P” I took the lantern while he let himself drop into the vault, then handed it down to him, and watched him as he approached the motionless figure. | He bent over it, raised the drooping head, and turned the white face to the light. Then, with an inarticulate sound of mingled pain and rapture, he lifted the slight form and bore it towards the opening where I was waiting to receive it. COPMIECMOOKS Oli)