But just then it seemed that Harry, like himself,
had remarked the absence of the characteristic odor of fire-damp;
for he exclaimed in an altered voice, "Father, I should say the gas
was no longer escaping through the cracks!"
"No longer!" cried the old miner--and, pressing his lips tight together,
he snuffed the air several times.
Then, all at once, with a sudden movement, "Hand me
your lamp, Harry," he said.
Ford took the lamp with a trembling hand. He drew off the wire gauze
case which surrounded the wick, and the flame burned in the open air.
As they had expected, there was no explosion, but, what was
more serious, there was not even the slight crackling which
indicates the presence of a small quantity of firedamp.
Simon took the stick which Harry was holding, fixed his lamp
to the end of it, and raised it high above his head, up to where
the gas, by reason of its buoyancy, would naturally accumulate.
The flame of the lamp, burning straight and clear, revealed no
trace of the carburetted hydrogen.
"Close to the wall," said the engineer.
"Yes," responded Ford, carrying the lamp to that part
of the wall at which he and his son had, the evening before,
proved the escape of gas.
The old miner's arm trembled whilst he tried to hoist the lamp up.
"Take my place, Harry," said he.
Harry took the stick, and successively presented the lamp to the different
fissures in the rock; but he shook his head, for of that slight crackling
peculiar to escaping fire-damp he heard nothing.
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