It's warm in here." "Yes, warm enough." "Shall we go any farther ?" "No, not to-day.

Let's stop and look.

Shall I throw down my candle ?" "No, Master Mark: it's no good.

Goes out too soon.

I'll light a match." He took an old-fashioned brimstone match from his breast, lit both its pointed ends, waited till the sulphur was fluttering its blue flame, and the splint was getting well alight and blackening, and then he reached out and let it fall, to go burning brightly down and down, as if into a huge well.