The same evening the expedition arrived at the opening of the Yarrow shaft, and descended to the twenty-seventh landing, at which Jack Ryan had been stopped a few hours previously. The lamps, fastened to long ropes, were lowered down the shaft, and it was thus ascertained that the four last ladders were wanting.
As soon as the lamps had been brought up, the men fixed to the landing a rope ladder, which unrolled itself down the shaft, and all descended one after the other. Jack Ryan’s descent was the most difficult, for he went first down the swinging ladders, and fastened them for the others.
The space at the bottom of the shaft was completely deserted; but Sir William was much surprised at hearing Jack Ryan exclaim, “Here are bits of the ladders, and some of them half burnt!”
“Burnt?” repeated Sir William. “Indeed, here sure enough are cinders which have evidently been cold a long time!”
“Do you think, sir,” asked Ryan, “that Mr. Starr could have had any reason for burning the ladders, and thus breaking of communication with the world?”
“Certainly not,” answered Sir William Elphiston, who had become very thoughtful. “Come, my lad, lead us to the cottage. There we shall ascertain the truth.”
Jack Ryan shook his head, as if not at all convinced. Then, taking a lamp from the hands of one of the men, he proceeded with a rapid step along the principal passage of the Dochart pit. The others all followed him.
In a quarter of an hour the party arrived at the excavation in which stood Simon Ford’s cottage. There was no light in the window. Ryan darted to the door, and threw it open. The house was empty.
They examined all the rooms in the somber habitation. No trace of violence was to be found. All was in order, as if old Madge had been still there. There was even an ample supply of provisions, enough to last the Ford family for several days.
The absence of the tenants of the cottage was quite unaccountable. But was it not possible to find out the exact time they had quitted it? Yes, for in this region, where there was no difference of day or night, Madge was accustomed to mark with a cross each day in her almanac.
The almanac was pinned up on the wall, and there the last cross had been made at the 6th of December; that is to say, a day after the arrival of James Starr, to which Ryan could positively swear. It was clear that on the 6th of December, ten days ago, Simon Ford, his wife, son, and guest, had quitted the cottage. Could a fresh exploration of the mine, undertaken by the engineer, account for such a long absence? Certainly not.
It was intensely dark all round. The lamps held by the men gave light only just where they were standing. Suddenly Jack Ryan uttered a cry. “Look there, there!”
His finger was pointing to a tolerably bright light, which was moving about in the distance. “After that light, my men!” exclaimed Sir William.
“It’s a goblin light!” said Ryan. “So what’s the use? We shall never catch it.”
The president and his men, little given to superstition, darted off in the direction of the moving light. Jack Ryan, bravely following their example, quickly overtook the head-most of the party.
It was a long and fatiguing chase. The lantern seemed to be carried by a being of small size, but singular agility.
Every now and then it disappeared behind some pillar, then was seen again at the end of a cross gallery. A sharp turn would place it out of sight, and it seemed to have completely disappeared, when all at once there would be the light as bright as ever. However, they gained very little on it, and Ryan’s belief that they could never catch it seemed far from groundless.
After an hour of this vain pursuit Sir William Elphiston and his companions had gone a long way in the southwest direction of the pit, and began to think they really had to do with an impalpable being. Just then it seemed as if the distance between the goblin and those who were pursuing it was becoming less. Could it be fatigued, or did this invisible being wish to entice Sir William and his companions to the place where the inhabitants of the cottage had perhaps themselves been enticed. It was hard to say.
The men, seeing that the distance lessened, redoubled their efforts. The light which had before burnt at a distance of more than two hundred feet before them was now seen at less than fifty. The space continued to diminish. The bearer of the lamp became partially visible. Sometimes, when it turned its head, the indistinct profile of a human face could be made out, and unless a sprite could assume bodily shape, Jack Ryan was obliged to confess that here was no supernatural being. Then, springing forward—
“Courage, comrades!” he exclaimed; “it is getting tired! We shall soon catch it up now, and if it can talk as well as it can run we shall hear a fine story.”
But the pursuit had suddenly become more difficult. They were in unknown regions of the mine; narrow passages crossed each other like the windings of a labyrinth. The bearer of the lamp might escape them as easily as possible, by just extinguishing the light and retreating into some dark refuge.
“And indeed,” thought Sir William, “if it wishes to avoid us, why does it not do so?”
Hitherto there had evidently been no intention to avoid them, but just as the thought crossed Sir
