After making the boy comfortable, Mr. Hume sat smoking his pipe, the first time for many hours, in lieu of food.  He himself was feeling the effect of the long period of anxiety, for he had scarcely eaten a mouthful, beyond his drink of milk, as he had given his little store to his young friend, who was in more need of it.  But it was not of himself he thought.  He had a new anxiety about Dick, and bitterly blamed himself for having so blindly followed the woman into this horrible place, that was one succession of death-traps.

“I’m very thirsty,” muttered the boy.

Mr. Home leaned over him.  “Keep quiet,” he said, “and I’ll bring you some water.”

Taking only his Ghoorka knife and his match-box, the Hunter went on to the Cave of Skulls.  Luckily for the denizens of that ominous place, none of them were there to bar his entrance, for he was in a grim mood, so making a bonfire of some of the mats, he looked about.  One calabash contained water, and this he carried back, together with something equally precious—­a bunch of bananas that were black with smoke, yet fit to eat by any one who was very hungry or did not see them.  The boy was sitting up waiting with burning eyes.

“You were so long,” he muttered.

“But I won’t go away again, old chap.  I’ve brought you quite a feast.”

Venning took a long drink, ate the bananas, and fell back on his pillow, while the Hunter resumed his seat to watch through another night.  It seemed as if they were to be left in peace.  Since that solitary, withered, and scared creature dived out of the cave they had seen no one.  But still he sat on guard as the hours slipped slowly by, and then there came a surprising thing.

Just the tinkle made by a drop of water falling into a pool!

It came at regular intervals, incessant, musical, and he began to count it, wondering at the height it fell, and marvelling at the noise it made.

And then he leapt to his feet, and stood a moment in breathless amazement.  A single drop of water to be heard above all that multitudinous clamour!  What did it mean?  It meant a silence so profound that from the black depth of the yawning cavity the tiny tinkle could reach him.  It meant that the roaring torrent was stilled!

CHAPTER XXIV

LETTING IN THE RIVER

The river was no longer thundering through the underground passage, and as the sudden silence following the stopping of engines on a passenger steamer will awaken every sleeper even more quickly than the roaring of a gale, so this lull in the tremendous din aroused Venning.

“What is the matter?” he asked, starting up.

“The river has stopped.”

They sat straining their ears for the swift roar of the waters, but out of the slumbering depths below there came only the regular splash and tinkle of the falling drops.