Come and help." "Get out: you can manage him.

Put him on his back." No sooner were the words uttered than, as he struggled there in the black darkness, Archy felt himself twisted up off his feet.

There was a shake, a wrench, and as he clung tightly to the man, his arms were dragged, as it felt to him, half out of their sockets, and he was thrown, to come down fortunately on his hands and knees.
For a few moments he felt half stunned by the shake, but recovering himself he leaped up and began to follow the retiring footsteps which were faintly heard.
He knew the direction, and went on with outstretched hands to find the way, checked directly by their coming in contact with one of the great pillars of stone.
But he felt his way round this, got to the other side, listened, made out which way the footsteps were going, followed on, and caught his feet against something which threw him forward on to a pile of broken stone.
He got up again, and felt his way cautiously to the right, for the stones rose like a bank or barrier in his way, and he went many yards without finding a way through.
Then feeling that he had taken the wrong turning, he retraced his steps as quickly as he could, going on and on without avail and never stopping.

He was just in time to save himself from another fall as he heard a dull bang as if a heavy door were closed, followed by a curious rattling sound, as of large pieces of slate falling down and banging against wood.

Then came a dull echoing, which died off in whispers, and all was perfectly still.
"The cowards!" cried Archy, as he fully realised that his gaolers had escaped from him.