CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
TWO BOYS IN A HOBBLE.
Five men, headed by the heavy fellow who spoke in broken English, passed silently before the boys through the soft sand, their figures looking black against the beautiful light which seemed to play on the ceiling of the place.

Then the leader stopped, and he gazed sharply round for a few minutes, his eyes seeming to rest for some time upon the sand which the boys had strewed over themselves and burrowed into as far as they could get.
Vince shivered a little, for he felt that it was all over and that they must be seen; but just as he had come to the conclusion that the best thing he could do would be for them to jump up and throw themselves upon the man's mercy, the great broad-shouldered fellow spoke.
"Dere sall not be any mans here.

Let us go up and see vat they do--how they get on." Apparently quite at home in the place, he walked to the foot of the slope, and for the first time saw the rope, and was told that it was not theirs.
"Aha!" he cried, "it vas time to come here and look.

_En avant_!" He seized the rope, and in spite of his size and weight he went up skilfully enough, the others following as actively as the boys would have mounted; and while Vince and Mike lay perspiring beneath the sand, they heard the next order come from the opening on high.
"Light ze lanthorn," said the Frenchman sharply; and, trembling now lest the light should betray their hiding-place, the boys lay and listened to the nicking of the flint and steel, heard the blowing on the tinder, saw the faint blue gleam of the match, and then the gradually increasing light, as the wood ignited and the candle began to burn; but throwing the rays through into the cavern, they passed over the corner where the boys lay, making it intensely dark by contrast, and they breathed more freely as the dull sound of the closing lanthorn was heard and the Frenchman growled out-- "_Vite! vite_! I have to lose no time." People seemed to be doing something more, far in the passage, which evoked the sharply spoken words of their leader; but what it was the boys could not make out, though they heard a strange clinking, as of pieces of iron being struck together, and then there was a loud clang, as if a crowbar or marlinspike had fallen upon the stony floor.
"_Ah, bete_ with the head of an _Anglais cochon_--pig! You always have ze finger butter.

Now, _en avant_, go on--_depechez_, make haste." There was the sound of footsteps, the shuffling over stones, as if the men were not accustomed to the way; and then the light rapidly grew more feeble, and finally died out.
"Phew!" sighed Vince, expiring loudly and blowing away the sand which had trickled about his lips, but not without first more firmly closing his eyes.
"Hist!" whispered Mike; and then he sputtered a little and whispered the one word "Sand." There was no need to say more; the one word expressed his position, and Vince knew all he suffered, for the sand was trickling inside his jersey round the neck, and if he had not raised his head a little it would have been in his eyes, of which he naturally had a horror.
The two boys lay perfectly still in their corner, listening with every sense upon the strain; and for some little time the movements of the men could be heard very plainly, every step, every stone that was dislodged sending its echo whispering along the narrow passage as a voice runs through a speaking tube.
At last all seemed so still that they took heart to whisper to each other.
"What shall we do, Cinder ?" said Mike.
"I don't know, unless we go through into the other cave." "What's the good of that ?--they'll come back soon and find us." "Unless we can hide somewhere among the bales, or right up in the back, where it's dark." "That might do," said Mike.