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Oxenham, John, 1852-1941

"A Maid of the Silver Sea"

And, having settled that, he wriggled through a crevice
and wormed slowly on.
He was almost in the dark now, and could only feel his way. But he was
used to groping in narrow places, and a spirit of investigation urged
him on.
Half an hour's strenuous and cautious worming, and a thin trickle of
light glimmered ahead. He turned and worked his way back at once.
There was no slit opposite the one he had tried, but presently,
half-way up the well, he made out an opening like the mouth of a small
adit. His back had been to it as he came down, and so he had missed it.
He climbed up and in, and felt convinced in his own mind that this was
no simple work of nature. Nature had no doubt begun, but man had
certainly finished it. For the floor level was comparatively free from
harshness, and the outjutting projections of the sides and roof had been
tempered, and progress was not difficult.
It was very narrow, however, and very low, and quite dark. He could only
drag himself along on his stomach like a worm. But he pushed on with all
the ardour of a discoverer.
Was it silver? Was it smugglers? Or what? Wholly accidental formation he
was sure it was not, though he thought it likely that man's handiwork
had only turned Nature's to account.


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