That's what happened to one unfortunate miner at the old Shilbottle Pit, according to a tale told by an aged workmate who has since passed on.

This particular collier's job was to check the ventilation points around the mine, which stretched for miles from the pit-head at the foot of the village.

And it was on one of those shifts, deep underground, that he had the following frightening experience.

His day had taken him to a lonely corner of the mine, far away from the rest of the men who were hard at work harvesting Shilbottle's famous 'doubles' - coal fit to burn in Buckingham Palace.

With only his lamp to light his way, and his footsteps echoing in the darkness of the tunnel, he found himself passing a place near to the scene of a tragic collapse some decades before.

As he passed quietly by, his hackles already up at the chill of the air and the sense of isolation he felt, his lamp failed.

Plunged suddenly into inky blackness and with his heart quickening, he reached for his emergency lamp but, turning the switch, it too failed.

With only the sound of his breathing and the drips and creaks of the surrounding rock, he anxiously contemplated his next move.

No-one worked this part of the pit anymore, he thought.

No one would realise he was missing until punching out time came at the end of his shift, many hours away.

Then, perhaps, the rescue team would come for him.

As he stood in the abyssal gloom, these thoughts racing through his mind, he was startled by an unexpected noise right next to him.

"Have you got a light mate?" asked a man's voice, clear as a bell in the pitch dark.

No sooner had the words been said, then the miner's lamp burst back to life, throwing dancing shadows across the tunnel.

His eyes darted around to see whose voice he had heard, but no-one was there.

He was totally alone in the passageway.

A feeling of dread shot up his spine and he took to his heels, sprinting back the way he'd came, head down, too panic-stricken to even glance back.

And when he finally arrived at the pit-head, several miles distant, he was on the verge of collapse from sheer exhaustion.

Those who first saw him say he couldn't speak and was white with shock, while his wide, staring eyes told a tale of sheer terror.

Months were to pass before he finally spoke of what he had heard, deep in the darkness.

He would never venture to that part of the mine again, and only work in the company of other men until the end of his days.

Shilbottle's famous pit is now also long gone, with almost no sign that it ever existed left above ground level.

But next time you walk near the village, just remember - beneath your feet there remain miles upon miles of tunnels.

And who knows what else still lurks down there, awaiting another unsuspecting visitor in the blackness?