‘That is impossible,’ said Forde decisively, while Sir Hannibal stared at the steward as though he had horns growing out of his head.

‘It is the truth,’ asserted Polwin with a weary look; ‘why will you not believe me when I tell you the truth? Anak confessed to me that Morgan was at the quarries on that day, and had a revolver on him.’

‘Where did a lunatic get such a dangerous weapon?’

‘I gave it to him,’ said Polwin calmly. ‘Bowring, who was sick of his son’s vagaries, threatened to lock him up. Morgan, who was always terrified at such an idea, told me. I frightened him still more with tales of how lunatics were treated.’

‘Lying tales,’ said Forde, frowning, ‘since lunatics are treated with every care. You beast.’

‘I had to get Morgan into a proper frame of mind to kill Bowring, as I thought it would save trouble. He had the revolver for quite a month, yet never used it. But he was always afraid lest he should be suddenly seized and taken to an asylum. On that day at the quarries he told Anak and Anak said that he could come with him and see his father killed.’

‘Oh,’ cried Dericka, shuddering, ‘have these men any feelings!’

‘Oh, bother!’ said the steward; ‘you make me tired. Let me finish the story, as I’m sick of all this. Well, then, Morgan saw the smash of the motor as he remained behind when Anak went back to the quarries. Seeing his father rise, he saw that he was not dead, so he leaped down the bank and shot him. Then he ran up and found that Anak had come back. Anak took the revolver from him and told him to be silent, lest he should be hanged. That’s all!’

‘And quite enough,’ said Sir Hannibal, who was very pale, ‘does Mrs. Krent know of this?’

‘No; nor does young Mrs. Bowring. But I believe Mother Witch, as Morgan calls her, my precious first wife, knows. She held her peace for Morgan’s sake. But now that she knows I am her husband she will go to the police and tell the truth. I must get out of the country. But of one thing you may be sure, I’ll never be taken alive.’

Polwin shut his mouth and said no more. Forde turned to Sir Hannibal. ‘It seems to me, sir, that we can establish your innocence with the aid of Mrs. Carney. But it will be just as well to write down a statement in my pocket book and make this man sign it.’

Before Trevick could answer a cry was heard and then a wild shout. Polwin, with a whimper of fear, ran away into the darkness. All at once down the slope which led from the ten-foot ladder came Morgan waving his axe. His clothes had been torn in the scuffle with Anak, and his eyes glared with the light of madness.

Dericka and Anne both shrieked when they saw this madman rushing towards them.

After him lumbered Anak, shouting.

‘Hold him, hold him; he’s quite mad. He’s cut my arm with the axe; catch him, Mr. Forde.’

Morgan had foam on his lips and kept screeching like a wild cat. He dodged Anak as he came forward with his arms outstretched, and dashed out one of the candles.

‘Where’s Polwin — I want to kill Polwin! Let me chop him — let me — aaaah — aaaah —’ He gave a wild shriek as he felt himself again in Anak’s mighty grip. The two reeled against Anne, and she dropped her candle. There was only one left.

‘Dericka! Dericka! Come!’ cried Forde, grasping her hand; ‘lead me to this easy shaft and let us get out. Trevick —’

‘I’ll take Anne,’ said Sir Hannibal, whose candle was still giving light; ‘God help us all.’

And indeed there seemed to be much need for such help then. Here in the bowels of the earth, under the bed of the ocean, in almost complete darkness, and with a raving madman and murderer struggling with another criminal — as Anak truly was — the position was enough to unsettle the sanest human being.

Dericka did not lose her head. Grasping her lover’s hand she drew him swiftly up the slope on the way to the ten-foot ladder, whence they could easily regain the upper world. Sir Hannibal, holding the half-fainting Anne on his arm, tried to push past Anak and Morgan to go the same way, but they swayed from side to side and would not allow him to pass.

All at once they heard a noise like thunder, and a moment later Polwin came running out from the darkness towards the glimmer of the candle held by the baronet.

‘I’ve let the ocean in,’ he cried, ‘Morgan will drown, Morgan —’

The lunatic, hearing that hated voice, withdrew himself with a violent effort from Anak and threw himself like a wild beast of prey on the steward. At the same time a rush of water came through the levels from the back part of the mine. Without thinking, Trevick dragged Anne along the gallery which led to the shaft which was most difficult to climb. Noting his mistake, she wanted to turn back.

‘We can’t climb there — we can’t,’ she screamed, struggling.

‘We must — we must,’ panted the baronet, stumbling along over the uneven ground, which was now covered with salt water up to their ankles.

Polwin, screaming like a woman with terror, strove to get away from Morgan, and managed to grasp Anak’s arm. The giant, who had no desire to be drowned like a rat in a trap, shook him off. But Morgan, hearing the roar of the flood and feeling the water rising higher threw his arms round both men, shouting exultingly.

‘We’ll swim together in the water — we’ll swim — we’ll wash — Ha! Ha!’ His laughter echoed wildly through the galleries, and Anak swore, while his father wailed wildly, fighting all the time. A great wave came thundering through the level, and swept them along down the passage towards the flying forms of Sir Hannibal and Anne.

‘Leave me — leave me,’ cried Anne.

‘No! Courage! I’ll save you,’ gasped the baronet, and felt that he must risk all for this woman who risked so much for him. She stumbled and fell. He caught her in his arms, and with supernatural strength, as it seemed, waded waist deep in water to the shaft. Fortunately they were not far from it, and had just managed to get under the glimpse of daylight far overhead when wave after wave of the bitter incoming ocean came sweeping along the levels and past the shaft, filling that as they went along. And past them a writhing trio was carried, sucked down by the waters into the very depths of the mine. Morgan held father and son in a death grip, and Heaven only knows to what depths the bodies were sucked by the fierce power of the waves.

Sir Hannibal lifted Anne as high as he could. ‘Grasp that beam,’ he cried; ‘quick, quick, the water is gaining.’

With an effort of despair she stretched and swung herself on the decayed beam. Trevick followed, keeping as close to her as he could.

The water rose and rose with a sucking noise as though it wanted to drown them. By holding on to various projections and stone and beams the man and woman managed to float upward on the surface of the rising waters. Then, when nearly at the top, the water stopped rising, and the two clung to a great stone, expecting it every moment to give way.

Trevick shouted loudly. In a few minutes they saw two pale faces peering down. They were those of Forde and Dericka, and they could hear the girl cry aloud with joy.

‘We thought you were dead,’ she said gladly.

‘We will be soon. Help! help!’ gasped Sir Hannibal.

‘Wait — wait,’ shouted Forde, ‘there’s an old rusty chain dangling from the tower. Hold on!’

He ran away, and in ten minutes, which seemed like an eternity to the wretched pair, came back along with Dericka and a chain. Both the girl’s hands and those of her lover were bleeding from their efforts to detach the chain from a rusty old windlass. Forde let it down with the help of Dericka. Luckily it was not very heavy, and the links held fast. Anne caught at the chain, and, by holding on to the side of the shaft, was slowly drawn up. Then Sir Hannibal followed, and the two found themselves under the bright sky, saved from a most terrible death.

‘And the others?’ asked Dericka, trembling.

‘Dead!’ said Trevick solemnly.

Forde took off his cap. ‘I say what the judge says to a condemned prisoner,’ he said in a deep, slow voice —‘God have mercy on their souls.’

    * * * * *

Naturally there was great excitement when the whole story became known at St. Ewalds. Afterwards reporters came down and a full account was sent to the London papers. It was found impossible to empty the mine.

Apparently Polwin, alias Krent, alias Carney, knowing the weakness of the crust between the mine and the sea, had broken it through in the hope of drowning Morgan, who he feared, and his own son, Hugh, who might have witnessed against him as being implicated in the murder of John Bowring. But the idiot had fully revenged himself on the man who had caused him to kill his father and set fire to the Grange. Far in the bowels of the mine, deep in salt water, the three bodies rested, and the Tregeagle mine became a grave.

It was Mrs. Carney who exonerated the baronet. She came forward regardless that she might be arrested as an accomplice after the fact, and related her story. It seems that she had never met Polw............