a crash behind us and chips of granite came showering into the smooth water inside, and a boat that lay just off the shore in a line with the opening scattered into fragments before our straining eyes....

We lay doubled over our oars, panting and sobbing and laughing.

We had escaped--but as by fire.
A moment for breath, and we slipped over the side, grateful for the cold bracing of the water on our sweltering skins, struggled through the few yards to the mouth of the tunnel, and crept through to the road.

We lay there prone till our strength came back, and one full heart, at all events,--nay, I will believe two,--thanked God fervently for escape from mighty peril.

For no man may look death so closely in the face as that without being stirred to the depths.
"A close thing!" breathed Le Marchant, as we got onto our feet and found the solid earth still rolling beneath us.
"God's mercy!" I said, and we sped up the steep Creux Road, among the ferns and flowers and overhanging trees.
My heart was leaping exultantly.