CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
JUST IN TIME.
All at once Dummy Rugg uttered a peculiar snort, and started up in a sitting position, with the thought still fresh in his brain that he must rouse up Mark from his nap.
But all was dark, and there was the gurgling rush of the water below.
"Why, I've been asleep," muttered the lad excitedly.

"Think o' me doing that!" He rose quickly, and felt for the crack in which he had stuck the candles, narrowly escaping a plunge into the little pool from which he had drunk.
He found the spot where the candles had been, both of them; he could feel it by the size, and knew it by the shape, for it grew smaller at each extremity, so that he had been able to wedge the ends of the candles tight.
Yes: there was no doubt about it.

Both candles, as if to be in fashion with the stony drippings of the cavern, had run down a little, to form tiny stalagmites of grease.
"Burnt right out," muttered Dummy, still more excitedly.

"Why, I may ha' been asleep for hours." Thrusting his hand into his breast, there was a faint rattle as he drew out tinder-box and match, and then felt for a candle in the box he had carried slung by a strap from the shoulder, and laid it ready.
The next minute he was nicking a piece of flint against the steel, striking sparks down into the box, and at the second sharp click Mark started awake.
"Yes! What is it ?" he cried--"Where am I ?" "On'y here, Master Mark," replied the boy.

"Candle's gone out." "Why, Dummy! Have we been to sleep ?" "I s'pose so, Master Mark.