Being nervous or wanting in nerve is a state that would soon prove the ruin of the adventurous.

We had to set ourselves determinedly to the task of finding our way back, and after a weary climb Tom pointed it out.

If anything, the descent was more laborious than the climbing up; but at last, tired out, we reached the vaulted chamber with its troubled lake and narrow sandy strip of shore ­a welcome place, gloomy and horrible as it was, for it meant rest upon our raft, and the gliding out with the stream to the entrance arch, and then not so very long a journey to the blessed light of heaven.

“Ah!”

That cry burst from our lips simultaneously, as, climbing down to reach the sand, we held our lights low to see ­what?

That there must be a sort of tide in the lake, small as it was; for the water was bubbling up more fiercely with a hissing noise, and there was no sand ­the waters had covered it; there was no raft ­the pole had been loosened by the water and the raft had gone, floated away, to be driven by the stream to the tunnel, and then swim lightly away to leave us to a horrible death ­a self-sought death; and as I thought of what I had done in my insensate greed for gold I could have groaned aloud.

But no, it was no insensate greed, I told myself ­it was for Lilla’s sake ­and my eyes rilled with tears as I thought that I should never see her more, and that Garcia ­

That name sent a thrill of energy through my weary frame, and calling upon speechless Tom, I told him to light a piece more oakum; and he did so, to reveal plainly the raft floating about right at the end of the great vault, and apparently nearing the arch of exit.  What were we to do?

There was but one answer.  Dash into that horrible black lake and swim to the raft, or else stay and die.

It was dreadful, to plunge into those mysteriously disturbed waters, containing far below who could tell what hideous monsters? ­to swim, or try to swim, where the strange eddies and whirlpools might draw the struggling wretch down!  To swim, too, in profound darkness; for I felt that if the attempt were made it would be made together.

The thoughts in my breast must have been the same as those in poor Tom’s; for, looking at the faintly-discerned raft and then up at me, he said with a groan:  “Mas’r Harry, I daren’t!”

“Tom,” I said, “I dare not!”

“But tell me to try it, Mas’r Harry,” he cried ­“order me to swim off to it, and I’ll try.  I shall be sucked down like a cork in a sink-hole, but tell me to do it ­order me and make me, and I’ll try; but I daren’t go without I was made.”

“Light another piece of oakum, Tom,” I said hoarsely.  “Perhaps the water on the sand is shallow and we might walk along to the other end, and then try to swim together:  it would not be half so far.  But stay ­ hold my hand while I step down and try.”

We crept down to where the sand had been bare when we left it, though loose and yielding; and, sticking the short piece of candle in a crevice, Tom seized my hand firmly and I stepped down into the water, but only to cry to Tom to draw me forth, for the sand was quick now and watery, and more dangerous to him who ventured upon it than the lake itself.

It was not without a sharp struggle that I once more stood beside Tom upon the ledge of rock, when without a word he drew out the oakum and prepared to light it, while, half beside myself with horror, I tried to calculate how far was the distance, and whether, by well marking the spot where the raft floated, we could not contrive to hit it in swimming in the dark.  That we should have to swim in the dark I knew; for neither of us, I felt, could then have swum with one hand, holding a light above the troubled waters with the other.

Just then Tom’s oakum blazed up behind me, to light up the vault with its sparkling stalactitic roof, glistening sides, and strangely-agitated water.  There floated the raft plainly enough just in front of the arch, and so near to our reach that in an instant Tom had thrown off cap, wallet, and jacket beside the candles stuck in the rock and the still burning oakum.

“No, Tom ­no!” I cried, catching at him; “you must not risk it.”

“Let go, Mas’r Harry ­I must!” he shouted.  “I swore I’d stick to you.”

He struck me in the chest so that I staggered back, and then there was a loud plash and he was swimming away.

To start up and throw off my own jacket and wallet was the work of an instant, for, with his example, I could not stay back.  We were companions, and I felt that it would be cowardly after he had taken the first plunge.

Another instant and I was after him, “plash!” with the noise of my plunge still echoing as I rose above the waters ­echoing in a strange whisper along the arched roof.  But oh! the painful, numbing sensation of intense cold that struck to my heart!  It was fearful, and before I had taken a dozen strokes I felt that I should never reach the raft.

I was not called upon so to do, for the next minute, in answer to my cry came a groan from Tom, and I knew that he was swimming back, and the next moment he shrieked: 

“Mas’r Harry, back! lend me a hand!  Cramp ­cramp!”

And then he gave a shriek of agony which roused me to a state of frenzy, as I could just see him beating the water with frantic effort close by my side.

The raft was forgotten then as with a vigorous stroke I reached him, placed one arm beneath his, and then struck out for the lights.

How I reached them I cannot recall:  only a horrible struggle, the echoing of splashing water, the reaching of the cold, slimy rock with something seeming to draw me under, a fierce effort to get out, the dragging forth of poor Tom, who sank by my side with a groan; and then in a dreamy state I pulled the last piece of oakum from Tom’s wallet, held it to one of the candles for it to blaze up, sputtering loudly from the wet hand that held it.  I sheltered my eyes after pressing out the water, looked again and again, separated the oakum so that it flared more and more, lighting up the low arch through which we had entered, when I groaned to myself:  was this to be the end of my golden dreams ­ death in this hideous vault? for the stream set swiftly now through the arch, and the raft was gone!