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The smoke hung thick and choked them, as they gasped it in in gulps while they sneezed, and the light had gone out with the concussion. They lay for a time exhausted. Then the atmosphere cleared somewhat, and they lay in the thick darkness straining their ears for any sound, but heard nothing. "What did you see, Evan Morgan?" whispered Trevna at last. "It wass a man."
And, after prolonged discussion as to the proper method of procedure, especially in the matter of precedence, it was at last arranged that Evan Morgan should go first with his miner's lamp, and that John Trevna should follow close behind, carrying the gun. "And iss it understood that I shoot him if I see him?" asked Trevna, to make sure of his ground and make his conscience easy.
I am coing out," and he began to wriggle backwards, and Trevna was fain to go too. But presently they came to one of the somewhat wider places where the wall had fallen away, and Trevna squeezed himself tightly into this. "You go on, then, Evan Morgan," he said, "if you can get past, and I will go back and bring him out." "You are a fool, John Trevna, to meddle with him any more.
Volunteers were evidently not over plentiful. It was a considerable time before he came back with a Welshman, Evan Morgan, and a young Cornishman, John Trevna, and neither of them seemed over eager for the job. "For, see you," had been Morgan's view, "coing in a hole after a man what hass a gun iss not a nice pissness, no inteet!" and the Cornishman agreed with him.
He banged down the lamp and threw up his head till it cracked against the roof, then banged his chin against the floor, and finally propped himself, like a sick dog, on his two front paws, and sneezed and sneezed and sneezed for dear life. Then John Trevna began. He had the sense to lay down his gun, or Morgan might have got the charge in his back.
"I don't know what it is," began John Drillot, "but " "It's the man I shot inside there," said Trevna. "That man hass peen det a hundert years," said Morgan. "All the same, he was running about last night," said Peter, "and I had hold of his leg" with another shiver. "He's dead enough now, anyway," said Drillot. "Eh b'en! leave him where he is, and let's get away.
I've heard say there were ghosts on L'Etat, and now I know it. No good comes of meddling with these things." "But we ought to take him with us." "Take him with us!" almost shrieked Peter. "And let him loose on Sark! Why then?" "Whatever he was last night, he's dead enough now.... Will you help me to get him up, John Trevna?" "Iss, sure! He's got my belt."
"Not in my boat, John Drillot," cried Peter. "Not in my boat. I've had enough of him, pardi!" and he set off at speed for the boat. "Don't be a fool, Peter. You, Evan Morgan, run down and stop him going. Come on, John Trevna," and after peering cautiously down to make sure the dead man had not moved, they dropped into the well again. The shrivelled figure was very light, as Trevna had found.
The oldest Bulgarian industry is weaving, which has existed from ancient times as a home industry. The wool of the country was worked up into cloths, carpets, braids, serges, etc., which were in request throughout the Ottoman Empire. The most important weaving centres are Pirdop, Panaguiourichté, Karlovo, Sopot, Koprivchtitza, Klissoura, Kalofer, Gabrovo, Trevna, Sliven, Kotel, and Samokov.
"Then I have killed him, for he does not move. Can you light the lamp?" "I can not in here. I am coing out. I haf hat enough of this." "We must take him out, too." "You can tek him, then, John Trevna. I haf hat enough of him and this hole." "Don't be a fool, Evan Morgan. If it wass a man, and he got that load in him as close as that, he iss deader than Tom Hamon." "Well, you can go an' see.
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