What's Bred in the Bone

g that at the very moment when he was going out to send off his telegram, his brother Cyril was sitting disconso

gue hope that he might succeed in letting in a little more air to their narrow prison through the chinks and interstices of the fallen sandstone

he air had almost failed them. They gasped for breath, their heads swam vaguely. A terrible weight seemed to oppress their bosoms. Even the lamps in the carriages flickered low and burned blue. The at

cup-for Cyril had brought a small bottleful that morning for his painting, as well as a packet of s

stupefying, she could hardly speak; indeed, her tongue clung to her palate. But she poured out the last few drops into the cup for Cyril and held them up imploringly, with

up aside with a f

u must drink it yourself. Your

ot allow her. So she moistened her mouth with those

voice. "We must make up our minds to die where we stand

t, could hardly fi

t. "Things look very black; but while there's life there

y heard from beyond the thick wall of sand that cut them off from the daylight. Cyril stared with surprise. It w

cried earnestly, fin

each us! I can hear t

ith a certain tinge of h

us, naturally, as soon as they missed us. But how far off are they yet? That

his walking-stick. Then he put his ear to it and listened, and waited. In less than half a minute three answering k

, in a tremor of excitement. "I don't think they

esture of despair. She was almost stifled. But she raised it with method. Knocking the rail twice, she bent down her head and

she murmured, in a faltering tone. "I can h

ull. Her head was very heavy. She gasped and struggled. Then a sudden intuition seized her, after her kind. If the rail could c

ail, as if to bespeak attention; then, putting her mouth close to the m

r? Come soon, come fast.

s if by magic, along the conducting line

wires," it said, and

rail, couldn't make out one word of it. But Elma's sharp senses, now qui

d pondering. "What on earth can they mean by that? What on earth can the

She bent down her head once more, and laid her eager ear beside it in terrible suspense. A rough man'

e freer, break the pipe of the wires, and you'

of the tunnel, half buried in rubbish, an earthenware pipe ran along by the edge near the wall of the archway. Cyril raised his foot and brought his heel down upon it sharply with all the strength and force he had still left in him. The pipe broke

t the opposite end, some thirty or forty feet off through the tunnel. Then a v

ny of you are there? Are you a

wn and shouted

f dead with stifling. Send us air as soon as ever

half fainting forward towards the shattered tube. Cyril held her up in his supporting arms, and watched the pipe eagerly. It s

ril chafed her hands with his, but his chafing seemed to produce very little effect. She lay motionless now with her eyelids half shut, and the whites of her eyes alone showing through them. The close, foul air of that damp and confined spot had worked its worst, a

th in speechless suspense, the voice

ll in the tube. We'r

er light. In a minute, a big glass marble came

fety. At the end was a large india-rubber bottle, full of fresh water, and a flask of brandy. The young man seized them both with delight and avidity, and bathed Elma's temples over and over again with the refreshing spirit. Then he poured

ere she was, and why, and seizing Cyr

she cried, with fresh hope returning, "I'm sur