We had only to listen intently and we would hear the voices of the searchers.

We did listen, but all that we heard was a faint far distant moan, which Dicky tried to make me believe was the wind in a ventilating shaft.

We could also hear a prolonged thumping very close to us, but that we could each account for personally.

And nothing more.
"Dicky," said I after a time, "if it weren't for the candle I believe I should be frightened." "It's about the most parsimonious style of candle I've ever seen," replied Dicky, "but it would give a little more light if it were trimmed." And he opened his pocket-knife.
"Be very careful," I begged, and Dicky said "Rather!" "Did you ever notice," he asked, "that you can touch flame all right if you are only quick enough?
Now, see me take the top off that candle." If Dicky had a fault it was a tendency to boastfulness.

He took the lighted wick between his thumb and his knife-blade, and skilfully scooped the top off.