"Yes, they're digging, of course," she said quickly. "I knew they'd
dig for us, naturally, as soon as they missed us. But how far off
are they yet? That's the real question. Will they reach us in time?
Are they near or distant?"
Cyril knelt down on the ground as before, in an agony of suspense,
and struck the rail three times distinctly with his walking-stick.
Then he put his ear to it and listened, and waited. In less than
half a minute three answering knocks rang, dim but unmistakable,
along the buried rail. He could even feel the vibration on the iron
with his face.
"They hear us! They hear us!" he cried once more, in a tremor of
excitement. "I don't think they're far off. They're coming rapidly
towards us."
At the words Elma rose from her seat, still paler than ever, but
strangely resolute, and took the stick from his hand with a gesture
of despair. She was almost stifled. But. she raised it with method.
Knocking the rail twice, she bent down her head and listened in
turn. Once more two answering knocks rang sharp along the connecting
line of metal. Elma shook her head ominously.
"No, no, they're a very long way off still," she murmured, in
a faltering tone. "I can hear it quite well.
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