They descended slowly; and he who was foremost presently cried
out, "I see him; here he is."
The man was lying on his face quite still; and when they lifted him,
each looked at the other with a grave significance--they had carried too
many from the bowels of the earth to the pit's mouth not to know when a
man was dead. Even a senseless body is not the same to an experienced
bearer as a dead weight. The corpse was still warm, but the head fell
back with a movement not of life.
"You were right, mate. His neck is broke; the poor gentleman pitched
over on his head."
"Stop a bit," exclaimed the man addressed; "see here. Why, it ain't him
at all--it's Solomon Coe."
An exclamation of astonishment burst involuntarily from the other three.
"Then where's the other?" cried they all together.
"I am here," answered a ghastly whisper.
Within but a few feet of Solomon, so that they could hardly have
overlooked him had not the former monopolized their attention, lay
Richard, grievously hurt. Some ribs were broken, and one of them was
pressed in upon the lungs. Still he was alive, and the men turned their
attention first to him, since Solomon was beyond their aid. By help of
the two ladders, side by side, they bore him up the wall of rock; and so
from level to level--a tedious and painful journey to the wounded
man--to the upper air.
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