"When they get back to the boat, I reckon.""Tom, it might be dark then -- would they notice we hadn't come?""I don't know.But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as they got home."A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he saw that he had made a blunder.Becky was not to have gone home that night! The children became silent and thoughtful.In a moment a new burst of grief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers also -- that the Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs.Thatcher discovered that Becky was not at Mrs.Harper's.
The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched it melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of wick stand alone at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin column of smoke, linger at its top a moment, and then -- the horror of utter darkness reigned!
How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness that she was crying in Tom's arms, neither could tell.All that they knew was, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out of a dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more.Tom said it might be Sunday, now -- maybe Monday.He tried to get Becky to talk, but her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone.Tom said that they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search was going on.He would shout and maybe some one would come.He tried it; but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that he tried it no more.
The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again.A portion of Tom's half of the cake was left; they divided and ate it.But they seemed hungrier than before.The poor morsel of food only whetted desire.
By-and-by Tom said:
"Sh! Did you hear that?"
Both held their breath and listened.There was a sound like the faintest, far-off shout.Instantly Tom answered it, and leading Becky by the hand, started groping down the corridor in its direction.Presently he listened again; again the sound was heard, and apparently a little nearer.
"It's them!" said Tom; "they're coming! Come along, Becky -- we're all right now!"The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelming.Their speed was slow, however, because pitfalls were somewhat common, and had to be guarded against.They shortly came to one and had to stop.It might be three feet deep, it might be a hundred -- there was no passing it at any rate.Tom got down on his breast and reached as far down as he could.No bottom.They must stay there and wait until the searchers came.They listened; evidently the distant shoutings were growing more distant! a moment or two more and they had gone altogether.The heart-sinking misery of it! Tom whooped until he was hoarse, but it was of no use.He talked hopefully to Becky; but an age of anxious waiting passed and no sounds came again.
The children groped their way back to the spring.The weary time dragged on; they slept again, and awoke famished and woe-stricken.Tom believed it must be Tuesday by this time.
Now an idea struck him.There were some side passages near at hand.It would be better to explore some of these than bear the weight of the heavy time in idleness.He took a kite-line from his pocket, tied it to a projection, and he and Becky started, Tom in the lead, unwinding the line as he groped along.At the end of twenty steps the corridor ended in a "jumping-off place." Tom got down on his knees and felt below, and then as far around the corner as he could reach with his hands conveniently; he made an effort to stretch yet a little farther to the right, and at that moment, not twenty yards away, a human hand, holding a candle, appeared from behind a rock! Tom lifted up a glorious shout, and instantly that hand was followed by the body it belonged to -- Injun Joe's! Tom was paralyzed; he could not move.He was vastly gratified the next moment, to see the "Spaniard" take to his heels and get himself out of sight.Tom wondered that Joe had not recognized his voice and come over and killed him for testifying in court.But the echoes must have disguised the voice.Without doubt, that was it, he reasoned.Tom's fright weakened every muscle in his body.He said to himself that if he had strength enough to get back to the spring he would stay there, and nothing should tempt him to run the risk of meeting Injun Joe again.He was careful to keep from Becky what it was he had seen.He told her he had only shouted "for luck."But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears in the long run.Another tedious wait at the spring and another long sleep brought changes.The children awoke tortured with a raging hunger.Tom believed that it must be Wednesday or Thursday or even Friday or Saturday, now, and that the search had been given over.He proposed to explore another passage.He felt willing to risk Injun Joe and all other terrors.But Becky was very weak.She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not be roused.She said she would wait, now, where she was, and die -- it would not be long.She told Tom to go with the kite-line and explore if he chose; but she implored him to come back every little while and speak to her; and she made him promise that when the awful time came, he would stay by her and hold her hand until all was over.
Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his throat, and made a show of being confident of finding the searchers or an escape from the cave; then he took the kite-line in his hand and went groping down one of the passages on his hands and knees, distressed with hunger and sick with bodings of coming doom.
