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‘Well, I think I can promise you some excitement soon enough,’ Mr Ambrose told me, drily. ‘Once we reach the end of the tunnel, we have to manage to get on a ship before they catch up with us. If we don't get to one in time…’
His voice trailed off. But I didn’t need him to finish the sentence. I knew.
We lapsed into silence for a while. I was busy with eating, and Mr Ambrose, who only took an occasional bite now and then, seemed to be very busy staring at the tunnel floor, as if the stone whizzing by told a fascinating story.
‘I was right,’ he said, suddenly. ‘This tunnel leads to the sea. We are not that far away from the exit anymore.’
Startled, I looked up.
‘How do you know?’
‘Do you see this? And this?’ He pointed at the floor, and I barely managed to catch a blurry glimpse of a small stone before we rushed p
ast.
‘What about it? Looked just like a pebble to me.’
The cool look he gave me made me shut my mouth.
‘This “pebble” was quartzite - not the same type of stone as the mountain around us. Such pebbles are only found on beaches. They must have been accidentally carried up by soldiers who passed this way from further down, because up at the mountain there was not a single quartzite anywhere in sight.’
He sounded as if he had spent his life burrowing through all kinds of different rock and knew all of them by name. I wanted to open my mouth to argue, but then I remembered the ease with which he had pushed the mining cart, his familiarity with the functioning of a draisine, and I shut my mouth again. Somehow, I was suddenly certain he knew what he was talking about. If you looked at his chiselled granite face, you simply had to believe that he knew all there was to know about stone.
‘But will we get to the exit fast enough?’ I asked. ‘Before Dalgliesh’s men catch up with us?’
‘As I said, Mr Linton, we have a good head start.’
‘But don't you think they’ll catch up with us quickly once they’ve pushed their cart to the top and roll downhill, after us?’ I asked. ‘After all, they’re three, and we’re only two. Their added weight should make them move a lot faster.’
‘Yes, they are three, and we are only two, that is true,’ agreed Mr Ambrose. ‘But still, the difference in weight might not be as great as you might ima-’
He eyed me, and then suddenly lapsed into silence. A very lengthy silence, and, for him, a very healthy one. Had he continued his sentence, I would not have been responsible for my actions. I gave him my most fiery glare.
‘There will be a difference in weight,’ I huffed, and pushed him away, sliding out from under the sack. ‘A very great difference in weight. Just you wait and see, they will catch up with us fast!’
*~*~**~*~*
Ten minutes. Twenty minutes.
I glared morosely at the tunnel walls, doing my best to avoid looking at him.
‘Do you hear anything?’ I asked.
‘No.’
‘I could have sworn I heard voices behind us!’
‘I didn’t hear anything, Mr Linton.’
Silence.
‘They should have caught up with us long ago. How long has it been since we left them behind?’
‘Exactly twenty-five minutes and thirty-seven seconds, Mr Linton.’
‘It can’t be that long already!’
‘But it is, Mr Linton.’
