"Up yonder, amongst the new workings," replied the man. "There's some temp'ry buildings up there—sheds, and such-like—and they're in one o' them. According to what we could make out, they must ha' crept in there for shelter when the storm was at its height, night before last, and whether it were the weight o' snow, or the wind, or whatever it were, that there building collapsed, d'ye see—anyway, we found 'em buried among the ruins. Nice job we had to get 'em out, too!"
"We've carried them into the new engine-house," said the man. "Mr. Malcolmson's there. He sent me down to see if you were here, and to tell you to come up. But of course you can't do no more than look at 'em.
An hour later, after a hard struggle through the snow, Wedgwood and the Superintendent were taken by the colliery manager into the place where Levigne and Janet Clagne, partners in death as in certain episodes of life, lay side by side, crushed and maimed and still clothed as when the search party came across them. And Wedgwood, sternly business-like, went straight to the point he wanted to reach, and within a minute of entering the room had drawn a quantity of papers from an inner pocket of Levigne's coat.
"That's where he put the papers that Mrs.
