"You do as you are bid." He darted to a part of the mine where he had seen a piece of charred timber; he dragged it in with him, and asked Grace for a pocket-handkerchief; she gave him a clean cambric one.

He took his pocket-knife and soon scraped off a little heap of charcoal; and then he sewed the handkerchief into a bag--for the handy man always carried a needle and thread.
Slowly, slowly the muddy water trickled into the little can, and then the bag being placed over the larger can, slowly, slowly the muddy water trickled through Hope's filter, and dropped clear and drinkable into the larger can.

In that dead life of theirs, with no incidents but torments and terrors, the hours passed swiftly in this experiment.

Hope sat upon a great lump of coal, his daughter kneeled in front of him, gazing at him with love, confidence, reverence; and Burnley kneeled in front of him too, but at a greater distance, with wolfish eyes full of thirst and nothing else.
At last the little can was two-thirds full of clear water.

Hope took the large iron spoon which he had found along with the tea, and gave a full spoonful to his daughter.