"Take care!" cried Mike warningly. "You're close to it."

"Yes," cried Vince excitedly; "we are close to it;" and he stopped and held up the lanthorn, so that his hand struck against the roof. "Look there!"

Mike pressed close, and looked at the object which had taken his companion's attention; but for a few moments he realised nothing save that the passage had grown more contracted, and that the roof seemed to be formed by two huge pieces of glistening granite leaning together. Then he looked down and saw that the floor, which was smoother than ever, ran down suddenly, while a faint, damp, salt odour of sea-weed struck upon his nostrils as a puff of air was suddenly wafted up.

"Mind, mind!" he shouted. "Ah!"

For the lanthorn was once more darkened, but not by the candle being extinct. On the contrary, it was burning brightly still, but hidden by Vince drawing his jersey suddenly over the sides.

"It's all right," cried Vince, for there before him was the shape of the end of the passage marked out by a pale, dawn-like light. "Can't you see? We've been fancying we've come down such a tremendous depth, and all the time we were right: the hole has led us to the shore."

But Vince was not quite right, for, upon his drawing the lanthorn out— and none too soon, an odour of singed worsted becoming perceptible—they found that the sudden sharp slope of the granite flooring went down some twenty feet, and upon lowering the light by means of the rope the lanthorn came to rest in soft sand.

"It isn't very light down there," said Vince, whose feelings of nervousness were being rapidly displaced by an intense desire to see more; "but light does come in, and there's the waves running in and out round here. You don't want to go back now, do you?"

"No," said Mike quickly. "Who's to go down first?"

"I will, for I found out what it was."

"All right," said Mike; "but we shall want the rope. How are we to fasten it?"

"There's plenty," said Vince, "and we'll go back and tie it round that last great stone in the hole."

This was done, Mike lighting him; and then, upon their returning, the rope coil was thrown down.

"Here goes!" cried Vince. "Hold the light high up."

Mike raised it on high, and leaned forward as far as he could; while, sitting down and grasping the rope, Vince let himself glide, and the next moment his feet sank deep in soft sand.

"Come on!" he shouted back to where Mike was anxiously watching from twenty feet or so above him. "It's easy as easy. Never mind the lanthorn."

He looked round as he spoke, to see that he was in a large cavern, floored with beautifully smooth, soft sand, and lit up by the same soft grey dawn that had greeted him at the end of the passage, but how it entered the place he could not make out, for no opening was visible, and the rushing, roaring sound of the water came from the lofty roof.

Vince's was only a momentary glance, for Mike was coming slowly down the smooth shoot, sliding on his back, but lowering himself foot by foot, as he held on to the rope.

"There!" cried Vince, as his companion stood beside him, gazing at the rugged walls and lofty roof of the great dry channel; "wasn't this worth coming to see?"

"Why, it's grand," replied Mike, in a subdued voice. "I say, what a place!"

"What a place? I should think it is. I say, Ladle, we've discovered this, and it's all our own. You and I ought to come and stay here when we like. I say, isn't it a size? Why, it must be thirty feet long."

He paced across the rugged hollow, tramping through the soft sand.

"Twelve paces," he cried from the other side. "It's splendid; but I wish it was a bit lighter. There must be somewhere for the light to come in. Yes, I see!"

Vince pointed up at the side farthest from him where he stood, and a little closer investigation showed that the pale soft light appeared to be reflected upward against the roof, coming from behind a screen of rock.

Crossing to this spot, they found that they could pass round the rocky screen, which reached half-way to the ceiling, and they now stood in a narrow passage lit by a soft green light, which came through a low arch, and on reaching and passing through this the boys uttered a shout of delight, for before them was another cavern of ample dimensions, whose low flattened roof was glorious with a lovely, ever-changing pattern, formed by the reflection of the sunlight from the waves outside. They were fascinated for the time by the appearance of the roof, which seemed to be all in motion—lights and shadows, soft as silken weavings, chasing each other, opening, closing, and interlacing in the most wonderful way, till they grew dazzled.

"It's too much to see at one time," whispered Mike at last. "I say! look at the arch with ferns hanging all round like lace."

"Yes, and what a colour the sea is!"

"And the anemones and limpets and coral! Look at those pools, too, among the rocks."

"Yes, and outside at the sea-birds. I say, Ladle! did you ever see anything like it?"

"Never thought there was such a beautiful place in the world," replied Mike softly. "Shall we go any farther?"

"Go any farther? I should think we will! Why, Mikey, this is all our own! Two beautiful caverns, one opening into the other, and all a secret, only known to ourselves. Talk about luck! But come on."

They passed under the arch, and stood in a cavern opening by another arch upon the sea, which rippled and played amongst the sand below, the mouth of the place being protected by ridge after ridge of rock just level with the surface, and sufficient to break the force of the wild currents, which boiled as they rushed by a short distance out. This cavern appeared as if, at some distant period, it had been eaten out of soft or half-decayed strata by the waves; and its peculiarity was the great extent of low, fairly level roof, which in places the lads could touch by tiptoeing and extending their fingers. It ran in at least a hundred feet; and apparently, from the state of the sand, was never invaded by the highest tides, which were pretty exactly marked by the living shells and sea-weed at the mouth.

Everywhere the place was carpeted with soft sand, through which stood up smooth blocks with flattened tops, readily suggesting tables, chairs and couches of the hardest and most durable nature.

They were not long in examining every cranny and crevice inward, fully expecting to find some low arch leading into another or a series of caverns; but they found nothing more, and did not spend much time in examining the place, for the great attraction was the mouth, through which, as if it were a frame, they gazed out at the glittering cove and the barrier of rock, dotted with sea-birds, which hid the open sea beyond.

Making their way, then, to the mouth, and hastily taking off shoe and stocking, they tucked up and began to wade, so as to get outside; but the huge buttresses which supported the rugged arch completely shut them in, running out as they did to where the sea swirled along with tremendous force, and looked so deep and formidable, that the two lads grasped in a moment what the consequences of a slip would be,—no swimmer could have stemmed such a rush.

"It's jolly—it's grand—it's splendid!" cried Vince at last, after they had been paddling about for some time in the shallow water, and stepping on to the low ridges of rock which barred the entrance; "but it's precious disappointing."

"Yes," said Mike; "for we can't see much now, shut-in like this."

It was quite true; for when they had stepped from rock to rock as far as they dared go, they were still in the mouth of the cave, which projected far out over them like a porch, and completely hid the cove on either side and the precipice extending upward to the ridge.

"I want to get round there to the left," said Vince, after gazing thoughtfully along the foot of one large buttress. "It looks shallow there, for the water's pale green. I can't see from here, but I don't believe it's up to one's knees."

"We'll try," said Mike, springing on to the rock, flush with the water, upon which Vince stood, with none too much room.

"Mind what you're doing!"

"Oh my! how sharp the rock is!" shouted Mike, who stood on one leg to pet and comfort an injured toe.

"I shall go along there," said Vince, "and then keep close to the wall."

"But you'll mind and not get in the current. It would take you away directly."

"Just as if it was likely I should risk it, with my clothes on!" said Vince scornfully. "Do you suppose I want a soaking? I think, you know, that if I get along there I shall be able to hold on and look up at this part of the cliffs. 'Tis a pity there isn't a narrow shore, so that you could walk right round."

"Well, take care," said Mike. "Mind, I'm not coming in after you, to get wet."

Vince laughed, and, picking his way, he stepped from stone to stone, till he was only a short distance from the massive wall of the buttress, and not far from where the sun shone upon the water.

"Why, it's as shallow as shallow!" he cried. "I thought it was, it looked so pale and green. I don't believe it's a foot deep, and it's all sand, just like a garden walk; you can wade right out here, Mike, and round by the corner, and I dare say all round the cove like this."

"Oh, do mind!" cried Mike.

"Of course I'll mind. Don't suppose I want to drown myself, do you? What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid."

"Yes, you are. You keep thinking of old Joe's nonsense about the place being full of water bogies and things, when all the time there's nothing but some dangerous rocks, and the sharp eddies and currents. Why, I haven't even seen a fish!"

"Well, I have," said Mike. "I can see the mullet lying down here in the still black water, so thick that they almost touch one another."

"You can? Well, I'll come and have a look presently. Here goes for a wade."

Vince gave the bottoms of his trousers an extra roll, so as to get them as high as possible above his knees, and leaning forward from where he stood upon a detached block of stone, he rested his hands upon the side of the great buttress, and lowered one foot into the water over ankle, calf, and knee; and then he uttered a cry, and nearly went headlong, but making a violent effort, he wrenched himself back, thrusting the rock with all his might, and came down in a sitting position upon the great stone.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

LOST IN THE DARKNESS.

"What was it?" cried Mike excitedly: "something get hold of your leg?"

"No," replied the boy, with a shiver, as his face turned clayey-looking. "Yes."

"What was it—crab or a conger?"

"Something ever so much worse," said Vince, with a shiver. "It looks quite hard down there, and all as tempting as can be; but it's loose quicksand, and my foot went down into it just as if it was so much sticky oil. There's no getting along there."

"Lucky you hadn't let go," said Mike sympathetically. "Good job we found out as we have. It might have been much worse."

"Worse? Why, I nearly went right in. And then I should have been sucked down. Ugh!"

Vince shuddered; but the colour began to come naturally again into his cheeks, and after a bit he laughed as they waded back into the cavern— being particularly careful, though, in spite of the roughness, to plant their feet on the pieces of shell-dotted stone beneath the surface.

"Yes, it's all very well to laugh," said Mike, in an ill-used tone; "but you're always running risks and getting into some hobble."

"Not such a good little boy as you, Ladle. You never do wrong, and— There, see what you've done now!" cried Vince, as he stood now in the soft, dry sand, and nestled his feet in it to take the place of a towel.

"What have I done now?"

"Come down and left the candle burning. I know you did; and it will have burned into the socket and melted it. How will you like going back in the dark?"

Mike stared at him aghast.

"You did forget, now, didn't you?"

"You never told me to put it out."

"I didn't tell you to eat your dinner to-day, did I?"

"No; but—"

"Where's your common sense? Now we shall have to go all through that dark hole like a couple of worms."

"No, we shan't," cried Mike. "I've got common sense enough to know you said you had some bits of candle in your pocket."

"Humph!" grunted Vince, whose eyes were wandering in all directions about the beautiful cave. "What's the good of candles without something to stick them in? That socket's melted off, I know."

"Soon manage that," said Mike, picking up a large whorled shell. "There's a natural candlestick; and if we hadn't found that, our fists would have done, or we could have stuck the candle on to the lanthorn with some of the grease."

"My word, he is a clever old Ladle!" cried Vince jeeringly. "I say, isn't this dry sand jolly for your legs? Mine are as right as can be."

"Capital," said Mike, who was pulling on his grey knitted socks. "I say, though, we have found out a place. I vote we come often."

"Yes," said Vince. "After a bit we shall be able to step through that dark hole as easily as can be."

"Yes, and in half the time. It's all very well to bounce, but it was queer work coming down."

"I don't bounce, Ladle; I felt squirmy enough. Of course you couldn't help feeling creepy when you didn't know where you were going next."

"Well, I daresay you felt so too."

"Of course I did," continued Vince. "I expected to put my foot in a great crack every minute, and fall right through to Botany Bay."

"Yes," said Mike seriously. "There's something about being in the dark that is queer."

"Till you get used to it," said Vince, jumping up, with his boots laced. "Now, then, look sharp. I want to have another good look round."

"Ready," said Mike. "I say, let's make a fireplace here, and bring wood, and get a frying-pan and a kettle, and cook fish and make tea and enjoy ourselves."

Vince nodded assent.

"Yes," he said; "might sleep here if you came to that. Sand would make a jolly bed and bed-clothes too. I say, we've found a place that some boys would give their heads to have. Why, there's no end to the fun we can have here. We can fish from the mouth."

"Yes, and I found some oysters—put my foot on them."

"And we can bring things by degrees: potatoes and apples and flour. Why, Ladle, old chap, we can beat old Robinson Crusoe all to nothing, and smugglers and robbers and those sort of people. But we must keep it a secret. If any one else knew of this place being here it would be spoiled at once. I say, what's that?"

"What?" said Mike.

"That dark bit there?" and Vince nodded to a spot in the gloomiest part of the cavern, right up in one corner, where the roof rose highest.

"Crack in the rock. There's another just beyond."

"Yes, a regular split. Hope it don't mean that the roofs going to tumble in."

"Not just yet," said Mike, gazing up curiously at the fault in the granite stratum. "We might try where it goes to."

"Want a ladder," said Vince; "and you may carry it, for I'm not going to try and bring that sort of thing down here. I say, there's the place to make a fire, just by the mouth, and then the smoke will all go up outside; and we can wash our fish and keep the place clean. Those pools will be splendid. There's one deep enough to bathe in."

"There, I tell you what," said Mike; "we've got about as splendid a place close to home as any fellows could find if they went all over the world. I say, though, how we could laugh at old Joe if we brought him down and showed him the Scraw has about as beautiful a cave as there is anywhere!"

"I say, don't talk about it. I wouldn't have any one know for the world; and do be careful about smuggling things down here."

"Don't you be afraid of that," said Mike. "Hi, look! There's a shoal of fish out there. Mackerel, I think."

"Oh, the place teems with fish, I'm sure," said Vince, as he watched the shimmering of the surface just in a smooth patch beyond where the sea was troubled. "Now, then, shall we go and look at the other place before we go back?"

"Yes," said Mike, but his tone suggesting no. "I feel as if I could sit down in the sand and look out at the sea and the birds on the rocks there opposite for ever."

"Without getting hungry, I suppose," said Vince. "Come on. It won't be long before we come down again. I say, Ladle, what a place to come to on wet days!"

"Splendid; and I shan't be satisfied till you and I have sailed round here to see if there isn't a way of getting into the bay with a boat."

"We might; but I daresay there isn't. Very likely it's such a race and so full of rocks that we should be upset directly. Come on."

They went down and peered through the low arch into the narrow way between the rocks, and onward into the other chamber, which looked black and dark to them as they entered from the well-lit outer cavern. But in a few minutes their eyes were accustomed to the gloom, and the place seemed filled with a soft, pearly light which impressed Mike, who was the poetical lad of the pair.

"I say," he said softly, "isn't this one beautiful?"

"Not half so beautiful as the other," said Vince bluntly.

"Oh yes, it is so soft and grey. It's just as if it was the inside of a great oyster-shell."

"And you were a pearl," cried Vince, laughing. "Never mind; it is very jolly, though, and if ever we slept here this place would do for bedroom, but I don't think that's very likely. Well, I suppose we'd better go. We've been here a precious long time, and I shall be late for tea."

"Never mind: come home and have tea with me. I don't feel in much of a hurry to go up through that black hole."

"We shan't mind it if it hasn't tumbled in since we came, and shut us up."

"I say, don't!" cried Mike, with a look of horror. "That might be true, you know."

"Yes; but pigs might fly," cried Vince, laughing. "I say, what a chap you are to take fright! Puzzle a stone place like that to tumble in. A few bits might come off the roof, but even then we could crawl over them, for they must leave a hole where they come from. Ready?"

"Yes," said Mike unwillingly, and they walked to the foot of the slide.

"I'll go first," cried Vince; and, seizing the rope, he held on by it, and, shortening his hold as he went, contrived to walk right up to the top, in spite of the great angle at which it stood.

"Try that way, Mike: it's as easy as easy."

The boy tried, and after a slip or two managed to reach the top pretty well. Here it was found that the candle had burned right out, but without injuring the socket; and a fresh piece having been set up, a light was soon obtained, and they started back, after deciding to leave the rope where it was, ready for their next visit, as they did not anticipate any difficulty about climbing back up the various step-like falls.

There was plenty to have detained them during their return journey, for the passage of the little underground river presented a wonderfully different aspect from the new point of view, and often seemed dimly mysterious by the feeble yellow light of the horn lanthorn; but there were no difficulties that a couple of active lads ready to help each other did not readily surmount; and they went on turning curves and loops and corners, mounting places that were once waterfalls, and steadily progressing, till Mike was horrified by one of his companion's remarks.

It was just as they had paused breathless before beginning to climb one of the great step-like impediments.

"I say, Ladle," he cried, "suppose the water was to come back all of a sudden, and begin rushing down here! What should we do?"

But Mike recovered his balance directly.

"Pooh!" he cried; "how could it? I don't believe there has been water along here for hundreds of years."

He began to climb, and they went on again, till it struck Vince seriously that they were a very long time getting out, and he cried, in alarm,—

"I say, we haven't taken a wrong turning, have we?"

His words struck a chill through both, and they stood there speechless for some moments, gazing in each other's dimly seen faces.

"Couldn't," cried Mike at last. "We did not pass a single turning."

"Didn't see a single turning?" said Vince. "No, we did not; but we might easily have passed one going sharply off to right or left, and come along it without noticing."

"I say, don't say that," whispered Mike hoarsely; "it sounds so horrible. Why, we may be going right away from the daylight into some horrible maze of a place underground."

"Seems as if that's what we are doing," said Vince sadly, "or we should have got out by now. We must have borne off to right or left, and—here we are."

"Yes; here we are," chorused Mike, rather piteously; "but it's no use to be dumpy, is it? Let's go back to the cave and start again, unless we can find out where we turned off as we go."

Vince did not reply, but opened the lanthorn, and raised his finger and thumb to his lips to moisten them before snuffing the candle, which was long-wicked, and threatened to gutter down.

"Mind!" cried Mike warningly, as he thought of their former fright.

"Well, I am minding. Didn't you see that I wouldn't wet my fingers? There! that's right."

He cleverly snuffed the candle, which flashed up brightly directly, and seemed to illumine the boy's brain more clearly, as well as the glittering roof and sides of the water-worn passage, for he spoke out sharply directly after.

"Look here, Ladle," he cried, "I don't believe we can have come wrong."

"Don't be obstinate," replied Mike; "we must have come wrong, or we shouldn't be here now."

"I don't know that."

"But I do. See what a while we have been climbing back."

"Yes; because it has all been uphill, and we had so much to think of going that we did not notice how far we went."

"But we've been hours coming back."

"Not we. You were tired, and that's made it seem so long. Come on: the way must be right."

"No; let's turn back. I'm tired, and don't want to do it, but it's the best way."

"But it will take so long," cried Vince.

"It'll take longer if we're going on walking we don't know where," said Mike ominously.

"Oh, come, I say, don't go on like that," cried Vince. "Fellows who are mates ought to try and cheer one another up, and you're doing nothing but cheer one down."

"I must speak the truth," said Mike gloomily.

"Here! do leave off! Why, you're as bad as that old raven out over the Scraw—all croak, croak, croak!"

"I don't want to croak; I only want for us to find the way out. Let's go back and make a fresh start."

"I shan't," said Vince: "we're right now, I'm sure, only we went wrong just now."

"There! I knew it! How far was it back?"

"Just where we took fright and began to fancy we were wrong. Now then, forward."

"No," said Mike firmly; "we'll go back. You are always so rash, and will not think."

"Yes, I will; I'm thinking now!" cried Vince warmly, "and I think that you're about the most pig-headed fellow that there ever was. Now, look here, Ladle, don't be stupid. I'm as sure as sure that we are going right after all, and all we've got to do is to go straight on."

"And I'm sure that we ought to go back."

"I shan't go back!"

"And I shan't go forward!" cried Mike angrily.

"All right, then: I shan't go back. Only mind how you go, old chap: those places where we had to creep down are rather awkward, and you may take the skin off your nose."

"What do you mean by that?" cried Mike.

"Only that I've got the candle," said Vince, laughing. "I'll come and see you to-morrow, and bring you something to eat, for you'll never find your way out again in the dark."

"But I'm not going in the dark, old clever!" cried Mike, snatching the lanthorn suddenly from his companion. "How now?"

"So how!" cried Vince, springing at him, and seizing the light structure of tin and horn.

Then there was a sharp struggle, the two lads swaying here and there in the narrow place, till Vince flung his companion heavily against the wall, giving him so violent a jar as he clung to the lanthorn that the candle was jumped out of its socket, fell over against the side, and before the boys could even think of getting the door open, the light flashed upon their startled faces and went out.

"You've done it now," cried Mike, in a dolorous tone.

"Oh, come, I like that," said Vince. "Who snatched the lanthorn away? Wait till we get out, and you'll see what I'll give you."

"Get out the tinder-box quickly," said Mike.

"What for? Suppose I want you to snatch it away? I'm going on in the dark, same as you're going back."

"Don't be an idiot," cried Mike, who was growing desperate. "Get out the tinder-box and strike a light."

"Good-night," replied Vince tauntingly; "I'm off. Shall I tell them you'll be home to-morrow?"

For answer Mike sprang at him and grasped him tightly.

"No, you don't play me that trick," he cried. "Get out that tinder-box at once."

"Not I," cried Vince.

"Get out that tinder-box at once!"

"Do you want to make me savage?" growled Vince. "I don't care what I make you now," cried Mike. "You're going to strike a light, so that we can find our way out."

"I'm not going to strike a light and go back to please you, Ladle, and so I tell you," said Vince, holding his companion at arm's length, with his teeth set, and a strong desire rising in him to double his fists and strike. "Give me the flint and steel," cried Mike fiercely. For answer Vince wrenched himself free, thrust out his hands, and, guiding himself by the wall, backed softly away and stood motionless, listening to Mike's movements. Then, stooping, he picked up a stone and pitched it over where he supposed Mike to be standing, with the result that it clattered down on the floor.

His anger had evaporated, and his face relaxed into a grin, for his ruse took effect directly. Judging that the noise was made by Vince backing from him, and in his horror and confusion mistaking his way, Mike thrust out his hands and went in the direction of the sound, while, under cover of the noise made, Vince backed still farther, moving as silently as he could.

"Now then," cried Mike, from fully thirty yards away, "it's of no use,— I have you. No more nonsense: take out that box and strike a light."

Vince turned aside to smother his laughter, then turned back to listen.

"Do you hear me?" cried Mike, in a hoarse, excited tone. "You'll be sorry for this. See if I come out with you again!"

Vince remained perfectly still, listening while he heard Mike make a short dash or two in the darkness as if to seize him, kicking up the stones on the floor and once more threatening what he would do when he got hold of his companion again.

Then he shouted louder, his voice echoing along the passage; and at last from far back in the darkness he groaned out:

"Vince! Vince, old chap, don't leave me here all alone!"

That appeal went home to Vince's heart at once.

"Who's going to?" he cried rather huskily. "Come on. This way, old obstinate. Mr Deane's quite right: he always said you would have your own way, even if you knew you were wrong."

"But I am so sure, Cinder—I am indeed," cried the lad, piteously. "It is this way—it is indeed! Oh, do strike a light!"

"There now! I'm going to show you how wrong you are," said Vince triumphantly.

"Not now: let's get out of this dreadful place."

"'Tisn't a dreadful place; it's only you scaring yourself about nothing, same as I did. It's this way. Come along."

"Yes, I'll come," said Mike meekly; "only don't go far, and then let's get back. But do strike a light."

"What for? There's no need. Come along, close up to me."

Mike came, blindly feeling his way, till he touched his companion, and his hands closed tightly upon Vince's shoulder and arm.

"There!" cried Vince, "look straight before you. What can you see?"

Mike uttered a cry of joy, for right upward, and apparently at a great distance, there was a feeble light, and a minute or two later the two lads were beneath the matted roofing of brambles, through which the bright evening glow was streaming. Directly after, they were out upon the surrounding stones, carefully scanning the ridge, to see if they had been observed. But the place was absolutely solitary, and, after hiding the lanthorn down in the rift, the lads started for home in silence, Mike feeling annoyed and aggrieved, while Vince's breast was full of triumphant satisfaction.

"I say," he said, as they reached at last a little opening in among the scrub oak trees, "are we two going to have it out before we go home?"

"No," said Mike shortly.

"Oh! all right, then; only you didn't speak or make any apology when you knew you were wrong."

"Yes," said Mike, after an interval, "I know I was wrong. I'm very sorry, Vince."

"So am I," said the latter, "and something worse."

Mike looked at him wonderingly.

"Yes, ever so much: I'm about half-starved."

Mike made no reply, but walked on in silence for some time, and it was not until they were near home that he turned again and held out his hand.

"I'm very sorry, Vince," he said.

"What about?" cried Vince.

"That we had such a row."

"Oh, bother! I'd forgotten all about it. Don't make any more fuss about that. I say, what a bit of luck! We must keep it quiet, though, eh?"

"Quiet? I wouldn't have any one know for the world!"



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

A STARTLING DISCOVERY.

The two lads were such close companions, and so much accustomed to wander off together of an afternoon, fishing, cliff-climbing, and collecting eggs, insects, minerals, or shells, that their long absences were not considered at all extraordinary, though they were noticed by both Mrs Burnet and Lady Ladelle, and one evening formed the subject of a few remarks at dinner.

The Doctor and his wife often dined at the old manor-house, and upon this occasion Mike's mother asked her visitors if they did not think they wandered too much.

"No," said Sir Francis, taking the answer out of his guests' mouths laughingly. "Mrs Burnet doesn't think anything of the kind, so don't you put such ideas in her head."

"But they are often so late, my dear."

"Well, it's summer-time, and cooler of an evening. Pleasantest part of the day. If they work well, let them play well. Eh, Burnet?"

"Certainly," said the Doctor, "so long as they don't get into mischief. But do they work well?"

"What do you say, Mr Deane?" said the baronet.

"Admirably," replied the tutor; "but I must say that I should like them to have a couple of hours' more study a day—say a couple of hours in the afternoon."

"No," said the Doctor emphatically. "You work them well with their English and classics and calculations every morning: let them have some of Nature's teaching of an afternoon, and strengthen their bodies after you've done strengthening their heads."

"I side with you, Burnet," said the baronet. "Let them go on as they are for a year or two, and then we'll see."

The tutor bowed. "I only thought I was not doing enough for them," he said apologetically.

"Plenty, my dear sir—plenty. I like to see them bringing home plenty of litter, as the servants call it."

"Yes," said the Doctor, "all's education. I see Lady Ladelle fidgets about her boy, just as my wife does. They'll be all right. They can't go very far from home."

"But I always dread some accident," said Mrs Burnet.

"Yes, my dear, you are always inventing something, and have been ever since Vince broke his leg."

"Through going into dangerous places," said Mrs Burnet.

"Well, yes, that was from a cliff fall; but he might have done it from tumbling off a wall or over a chair."

Just when this conversation was taking place the boys were slowly trudging home from their "retreat," as they called it—coming by a circuitous way, for the fact was very evident that old Daygo did spend a good deal of time in watching the boys' proceedings, and Vince was strongly of opinion that he suspected their discovery.

But Mike was as fully convinced to the contrary.

"He has no idea of it, I'm sure; but he is curious to know where we go. The old chap always talks as if the island belonged to him. He'd better not interfere with it if he does find out; but, I say, fancy old Daygo scrambling down through that passage. I should like to see him."

"I shouldn't," said Vince, "especially after all we've done."

For a month had glided away, and they had been pretty busy, during their many visits to the place, carrying all kinds of little things which they considered they wanted, with the result that the lanthorn and a supply of candles always stood in a niche a short distance down the passage; short ropes were fastened wherever there was one of the sharp or sloping descents, so that they could run down quickly; and in several places a hammer and cold chisel had been utilised so as to chip out a foothold.

In the caverns themselves there was a fireplace, a keg which they kept supplied with water, a small saucepan, a little frying-pan, and a common gridiron, all of which had been bought and brought for them by the skipper of the little smack which touched at the island like a marine carrier's cart once a week.

Then they had an axe and saw, and stored up driftwood for their fire; fishing lines and a good supply of hooks; a gaff and many other objects, including towels—for the pools in the outer cavern's mouth were now their regular places for bathing.

As the time went on the novelty of possessing such a curious secret place did not wear off. On the contrary, the satisfaction it afforded them grew, the more especially that the journey to and fro had become much more simple, for they had picked out the easiest way through the oak wood, knew the smoothest path among the granite blocks, and were always finding better ways of threading the rugged chaos at the bottom of the ridge slope.

As far as they could see ahead it seemed to them that there was nothing more to discover, and they might go on keeping the place entirely to themselves till they were grown up.

But at sixteen or so we do not know everything. It was the day after the conversation at the old manor-house that, after a long morning with Mr Deane, the two boys met as usual, and started in the opposite direction to that which they intended to take, for they had not taken many steps before Vince kicked out sidewise and struck Mike on the boot.

"What did you do that for?" said the other angrily.

"'Cause I liked;" and a tussle ensued, half serious on one side, jocular on the other.

"Now," whispered Vince, "break away and run towards that bay, and I'll chase you."

"What for? What's come to you this afternoon?"

"Don't look round. Old Daygo's sitting under a stone yonder smoking his pipe."

Mike obeyed, running off as hard as he could go, chased by Vince, till they were well out of sight, and then, by making a detour of a good half-mile, they reached the oak wood a long way north of their customary way of entrance, and began to plod onward towards their goal.

"That's what they call throwing dust in any one's eyes, isn't it?" said Mike, laughing.

"Yes," said Vince, "and we shall have to make it sand with old Joe. He's getting more and more suspicious, though I don't see why it matters to him. You see, we never go near him now to ask him to take us out fishing, or into one of the west bays to shell, and he thinks we have something else on the way."

"Well, so we have, and—Hullo, Joe! you there?"

"Yes, young gentleman, I'm here," said Daygo gruffly, as he suddenly came upon them in a little opening in the wood. "I thought you'd gone down to the west bays."

"Well, we did think of going; but it's cooler and more shady here. The sun does come down so strongly there under the cliffs. Seen any rabbits?"

"Two on 'em," said the man; "but you won't ketch them. Dog couldn't do it, let alone you. Ounce o' shot's only thing I know that runs fast enough to ketch them."

It was an awkward predicament, and both lads had the same feeling that they would like to go off at once in another direction, only that they shrank from leaving the old fisherman, for fear he should find the way down into the caves.

They wandered on in his company for a few minutes, and then Vince took the initiative and cried,—

"I say, I'm sick of this; it's dreadful. Come out on the common somewhere, so that we can get down to the sea."

"I don't think you can get down anywhere near here. Can you, Joe?" asked Mike.

"Oh yes," said the old man; "easy enough. I'll show you a place if you like."

"Come on, then!" cried Vince eagerly.

"Off here, then," said Daygo; "on'y I ought to tell you that you won't enjy yourselves, for it'll take Doctor Burnet all his time to pull you both together again."

The old fellow burst into a fit of chuckling at this, and looked from one to the other, thoroughly enjoying their disgusted looks.

"There, I knew he was making fun of us. Of course there's no way down," grumbled Mike. "Come on out of this scrimble-scramble place. What's the good of tiring ourselves for the sake of seeing a rabbit's white cotton tail."

Vince was about to follow his companion, but turned to shout after Daygo.

"I say, when are you going to take us fishing again?"

"When you two young gents likes to come; on'y you've both been so mortal proud lately. Never come anigh to me, and as to wanting a ride in a boat, not you. Got one of your own somewheres, I suppose. Hev yer?"

Mike shook his head, and they went on in silence for a few minutes before Mike whispered,—

"What shall we do: creep back and watch him?"

"No. If we did we should come upon him directly. He's watching us, I'm sure. Let's go to the cliff edge somewhere for a bit, and then go to the other side of the island. We shan't get down to the cave to-day."

As far as they could tell they were unobserved the next afternoon, and after exercising plenty of caution they reached the mouth of the little river tunnel and dropped down out of sight one after the other in an instant. In fact, so quick was their disappearance that it would have puzzled the keenest searcher as to where they had gone. For one moment they were standing upon a piece of lichen-covered granite, the next they had leaped in among the brambles, which parted for them to pass through and sprang up again, the lads dropping on to the old stream bed, which they had carefully cleared of stones. They left no footmarks there, and they were careful to preserve the thin screen of ferns and bramble, so that a watcher would have credited them with having ducked down and crept away.

This ruse, trifling as it may seem, added to their enjoyment of their hiding-place, and as soon as they were in darkness they struck a light and went on down to the caves, had a look round, and Mike immediately began to get down the fishing lines which hung from a wooden peg driven into a granite crack.

"Never mind the fish to-day," said Vince, who was busily fixing a fresh piece of candle in the lanthorn.

"Why? We're not hungry now, but we shall be before we go back. Hullo! what are you going to do?"

"Wait a bit, and you'll see," replied Vince, who now took a little coil of rope from where it hung, and then asked his companion's assistance to extricate something which he had placed in the belt he wore under his jersey.

"Why, whatever have you got here?"

"Grapnel," was the reply; and Vince began to rub the small of his back softly. "I say, how a thing like that hurts! It's worse than carrying a hammer. I'm quite sore."

Mike laughed, and again more heartily upon seeing Vince begin to secure the grapnel with a sea-going knot to the length of rope.

"Let those laugh that lose," cried Vince sententiously; "they are sure to who win."

"Enough to make any one laugh," cried Mike. "What are you going to bait with?"

"You, if you like," said Vince sharply, "Wonder what I should catch?"

"Here! no nonsense," cried Mike: "what are you really going to do?"

"What we've been talking about so long. Try and get up through that crack up there."

Mike whistled.

"Why, of course," he said. "What a good idea! But I don't believe it goes in above a foot or two."

"Oh yes, it does," said Vince decisively. "I thought so a little while ago, but last time we came I found out that it goes ever so far, and so I brought this hook."

"And never told me."

"Telling you now, aren't I?"

"But how did you know?"

"Saw a pigeon fly out."

"Well, that proves nothing. It only flew in to settle for a bit, and then came out again."

"That's what I fancied," said Vince, trying his knot by standing upon the grapnel and tugging hard with both hands at the rope; "but I watched while you were lying on your back asleep and saw others go in and come out."

"Well, that only shows that there are several nests there instead of one. I say, let's bring some paste next time we come and make a pigeon pudding of young ones. I'll get our cook to make us some. I'll tell her what we want it for, and she'll think we are going to make a sort of picnic dinner under a rock somewhere."

"Wait a bit, and let's try first," said Vince. "There, I'm ready now. We did talk about examining that great crack when we came, but I thought it wasn't worth the trouble till yesterday. I fancy it leads into another cave."

"Hope it does," said Mike. "Make this place all the more interesting."

"Couldn't," said Vince shortly. "Come along and let's see if I can catch a big fish without a bait."

They went to the darkest corner of the outer cave, where the roof was highest, and after laying the rope ready, Vince took hold of it about two feet from the large triple hook, swung it to and fro several times, and then sent it flying upward towards the roof, where it struck the edge of the jagged crack ten feet or so above their heads and came down with a loud clang.

"One," said Mike. "Three offers out."

"All right: you shall have your innings then," said Vince, picking up the hook, aiming more truly, and again sending it flying up.

This time it passed right up out of sight and fell back, striking the bottom of the crack and glancing off again to the floor, falling silently into the sand.

"Two," cried Mike. "He won't do it."

"Wait a bit," said Vince, and he swung the hook upward. There was a click, and it stayed just within the crack; while the lad laughed. "Now," he cried, "can't I do it?"

"No!" said Mike triumphantly, for at the first jerk of the rope the iron fell back into the sand.

"You don't know how to throw a grapnel," said Mike, picking up the rope. "There, stand aside and I'll show you."

Vince drew back, and after a good deal of swinging, Mike launched the grapnel upward, so that it passed right into the hole some distance from the length of rope which followed; then came a click, and the rope hung swinging from the sloping roof.

"There!" cried Mike.

"It'll come away as soon as you pull it."

Mike gave the rope a tug, then a sharp jerk, and another, before, raising his hands and grasping it as high as he could, he took a run, and then, raising his legs, let himself swing to and fro.

"Bear anything," he cried. "There, you'd better go first."

"You fastened it," said Vince, "so you've got first go."

"No, it was your idea. Up with you! but you've scared the pigeons away."

Vince seized the rope as high as he could reach, twisted it about his leg, pressing the strong strands against his calf with the edge of his shoe-sole, and then began to climb slowly, drawing himself up by the muscular strength of his arms, while the rope began to revolve with him slowly.

"Meat's burning," cried Mike, grinning. "Wants basting;" and he picked up handsful of sand to scatter over the climber's back.

But Vince was too busy to heed his interruption, and by trying hard he soon drew himself right into the narrow crack, and the next minute only his boots were visible, and they were drawn out of sight directly after.

"Well?" cried Mike; "what have you found?"

"Grapnel," panted Vince; for climbing a single thin rope is hard work.

"Yes, but what else?"

"Big crack, which goes right in. Light the lanthorn and fasten, it to the end of the rope."

This was soon done and the light drawn up.

"I say, play fair!" cried Mike, as the lanthorn disappeared; "don't go and do all the fun yourself."

For answer Vince threw him down the rope, which he had freed from the lanthorn.

"Come up," he said shortly; and Mike, who began to be deeply interested, his curiosity now being excited, seized the rope and began in turn to climb.

He was as active as his companion, and as much accustomed to rope work, the pair having often let themselves down portions of the cliff and climbed again in their search for eggs; so that in another minute he too was in the crack, dimly lit by the lanthorn, which Vince had set low down, where the fracture in the rock began to close in towards where it was again solid.

"Don't seem much of a place," said Mike, rising upright, but having to keep himself in that position by resting a foot on either side of the rift. "Goes in, though."

"Yes," said Vince, "and I was right, for the pigeons must have flown through."

"No," said Mike, looking about: "nests somewhere on one of the ledges."

"Are no ledges here," said Vince: "the top goes up to a point. Shall we go on?"

"Of course," said Mike; and, taking up the lanthorn, Vince began to shuffle himself along the narrow, awkward place, till, at the end of a dozen yards, in darkness which grew thicker as he went, the great crack turned suddenly right off to the right, and again directly after to the left.

"Why, it looks just the same shape as a flash of lightning," cried Mike. "Does it get any bigger?"

"Doesn't seem to," was the reply; "but there's plenty of room to walk along."

"Walk? I don't call this walking? I'm going along like a lame duck striddling a gutter. I say, think there's ever been water along here?"

"Sure there hasn't," said Vince, holding the light low down. "Why, you can see. The rock isn't worn a bit, but looks as sharp as if it had only lately been split."

"But what could split it? The lightning?"

"No: father says these rocks crack from the water washing the stuff away from beneath them, and then the tremendous weight does the rest. But I don't know. I say, though, I shouldn't wonder if this goes on into another cave. Look here."

Mike pressed forward, and found, as his companion held up the light, that the fault in the rock shot off sharply now to the left, and sloped up at an angle of some forty-five degrees.

"Looks awkward," said Mike. "Are we going up there?"

"Of course. Why not? We can climb it."

"Oh yes, I can get up there; but it isn't very good for the boots."

Good or bad, Vince did not hesitate, but, lanthorn in hand, commenced the ascent by climbing right in the narrow part of the rift, where each foot became wedged between the sides of the opening, and had to be dragged out again as the next foot was brought over and placed in front.

"Awkward travelling," said Vince; "but you can't slip."

"Begin to feel as if I can," replied Mike—"right out of my shoes. I say, it is awkward."

The distance they had to traverse here, however, was but short, and the next angle showed that the fault was at a much easier slope, while the opening was wider, so that they got along more pleasantly. But at the end of another twenty yards the walls began to close in, and the place looked so uninviting that Mike stopped. "Hadn't we better go back?" he said. "What for?" replied Vince. "Let's see the end of it. We can't make any mistake in going back. There's no roof to fall, and no pits or holes to drop into."

"But it may go on for ever so long; and, I say, I don't believe a pigeon ever flew through here."

"Well, I don't know," said Vince. "It seemed to me as if they did, and—Hurrah, Ladle! I can see light."

"Light? So there is. Look! it must come from round the next corner. That's reflection we can see."

And so it proved: for upon passing the next sharp angle Vince found himself facing the sea, which was visible through a great arch, far larger and more rugged than that in their own cavern mouth. Going on a little farther, he found himself at the end of the singular zigzag passage, which was an opening in the roof of another and larger cavern, and into which they looked down as from a window.

It was lighter and loftier than their own, and, like it, beautifully carpeted with sand; but, to the amazement of the lads, instead of this being smooth and wind-swept, as that of their own place when they first discovered it, the floor was covered with footmarks leading from the mouth inward to where the great cave grew dim and obscure. There were sails, too, and ropes. Several small yards and spars lay together by the side of the wall, and farther in were sails and three or four oars.

But what most took their attention was the fact that, dimly outlined in the higher part of the cave there were little stacks, which looked as if they were built up of packages or bales, side by side with which, carefully stacked in the sand, were dozens upon dozens of small kegs.

As their eyes grew more familiar with the gloom at the upper end, they realised that there were a great number of these bales and kegs, the former being of three kinds, varying a good deal in shape and size.

They neither of them spoke, not daring even to whisper, for the feeling was strong upon them that the next thing they would see must be the figure of some fierce-looking smuggler in big boots, belted, carrying cutlass and pistols, and crowned with a scarlet cap.

Then they started back in alarm, for there was the sharp whirring of wings, and half a dozen pigeons darted out of the cavern, seeming to come from far back beyond the stacks of kegs and bales, and rushing out into the bright light beneath the arch.

It was nothing to mind; but their nerves were on the strain, and they breathed more freely as soon as the birds were gone. It seemed to signify that no human beings were in the higher part of the cavern, and the solemn silence of the place encouraged them at last to speak, but only in whispers.

"Wish we'd brought the rope," said Vince; "we might have got down."

"Ugh! It wouldn't be safe. They might come and catch us."

"Who might?"

"The smugglers."

"Smugglers? There are no smugglers on the Crag."

"Well, those must be smuggled goods, anyhow," said Mike.

"Can't be."

"What are they, then? I'll be bound to say that those little kegs have all got 'Hollands' or French spirits in them, and the packages are silk and velvet, and the other parcels laces and things—perhaps tobacco."

"But we never heard of smuggling here. Who can it be?"

"Well, that's what they are, for certain," said Mike. "It's just like what one's read about. They must be ever so old—a hundred years, perhaps—and been put here and forgotten."

"Perhaps so," said Vince.

"Then we'll claim them for ours," said Mike decisively. "They can't belong to anybody else now. Nobody can be alive who brought them a hundred years ago."

"No," said Vince; "but I don't see how we can claim them. I say, though, it shows that boats can get into the cove."

"Or could at one time."

"Place wouldn't alter much in a hundred years. I do wish, though, we had brought the rope. Perhaps as soon as we touch those bales they'll all tumble into dust."

"And all the kegs have gone dry," said Mike.

"And all we can see before us only so much dust and touchwood. I say, Mike, we shan't be very rich from our find. I do wish we had brought the rope. Let's go back and get it."

"Let's go back soon," replied Mike; "but I don't think we'll come again to-day. My head feels all of a whizz."

"Yes, it is exciting," said Vince thoughtfully. "Perhaps you're right: we won't come back to-day." And, contenting themselves with a long, searching inspection from the window-like place they occupied, they soon after returned, and, after placing the grapnel so that it could be jerked out, went down the rope, got the iron hooks loose, and seated themselves to think.

That evening they got home early, each so full of the great discovery that, when they went to bed, it was long before they slept, and then their brains were busy with strange dreams, in which one was fighting for his life against a host of well-armed men, the victor taking a vessel with the treasure of valuable silks and spices, and making his parents rich people to the last.

But an idea was dominant with both when they woke, soon after sunrise. They must go back to the cavern soon, and probe the mystery to the very end.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

DAYGO DESCRIBES HORRORS.

"Er-her! Going to school! Yer!"

Vince, who had some books under his arm, felt a peculiar twitching in the nerves, as he turned sharply upon the heavy-looking lad who had spoken the above words, with the prologue and epilogue formed of jeering laughs, which sounded something like the combinations placed there to represent them.

The speaker was the son of the Jemmy Carnach who was, as the Doctor said, a martyr to indigestion—a refined way of expressing his intense devotion to lobsters, the red armour of which molluscs could be seen scattered in every direction about his cottage door, and at the foot of the cliff beyond.

As Jemmy Carnach had thought proper to keep up family names in old-fashioned style, he had had his son christened James, like his father, grandfather and great-grandfather—which was as far as Carnach could trace. The result was a little confusing, the Crag island not being big enough for two Jemmy Carnachs. The fishermen, however, got over the difficulty by always calling the father Jemmy and his son Young 'un; but this did not suit Vince and Mike, with whom there had always been a feud, the fisherman's lad having constantly displayed an intense hatred, in his plebeian way, for the young representatives of the patricians on the isle. The manners in which he had shown this, from very early times, were many; and had taken the forms of watching till the companions were below cliffs, and then stealing to the top and dislodging stones, that they might roll down upon their heads; filling his pockets with the thin, sharply ground, flat oyster-shells to be found among the beach pebbles—a peculiarly cutting kind of weapon—and at every opportunity sending them skimming at one or other of the lads; making holes in their boat, when they had one—being strongly suspected of cutting two adrift, so that they were swept away, and never heard of again; and in divers other ways showing his dislike or hatred— displaying an animus which had become intensified since Mike had called in Vince's help to put a stop to raids and forays upon the old manor orchard when the apples, pears and plums were getting ripe, the result being a good beating with tough oak saplings.

Not that this stopped the plundering incursions, for Carnach junior told the two lads, and probably believed, as an inhabitant of the island, that he had as good a right to the fruit as they.

Of course the many assaults and insults dealt out by Carnach junior—for he was prolific in unpleasant words and jeers, whenever the companions came within hearing—had results in the shape of reprisals. Vince was not going to see Mike Ladelle's ear bleeding from a cut produced by a forcibly propelled oyster-shell, without making an attack upon the young human catapult; and Mike's wrath naturally boiled over upon seeing a piece of rock pushed off the edge of the cliff, and fall within a foot of where Vince was lying on the sand at the foot. But the engagements which followed seemed to do no good, for Carnach junior was so extremely English that he never seemed to realise that he had been thrashed till he had lain down with his eyes so swollen up that there was hardly room for the tears to squeeze themselves out, and his lips so disfigured that his howls generally escaped through his nose.

"I never saw such a fellow," Vince used to say: "if you only slap his face, it swells up horribly."

"And it's of no use to lick him, it doesn't do any good," added Mike. "Why, I must have thrashed him a hundred times, and you too."

This was a remark which showed that either Mr Deane's instructions in the art of calculation were faulty, or Mike's mental capacity inadequate for acquiring correctness of application.

Still there must have been some truth in Mike's words, for Vince, who was a great stickler for truthfulness, merely said:

"Ah! we have given it to him pretty often."

Vince and Mike did not take to Young 'un or Youngster, as a sobriquet for Carnach junior, and consequently they invented quite a variety of names, which were chosen, not for the purpose of distinguishing the fat, flat-faced, rather pig-eyed youth from other people, but it must be owned for annoyance, and by way of retaliation for endless insults.

"You see, we must do something," said Mike.

"Of course," agreed Vince; "and I'm tired of making myself hot and knocking my knuckles about against his stupid head; and besides, it seems so blackguardly, as a doctor's son, to be fighting a chap like that."

"Oh, I don't know," said Mike thoughtfully: "I shall be a Sir some day, I suppose."

"What a game!" chuckled Vince—"Sir Michael Ladelle!"

"I don't see anything to laugh at," said Mike; "but, as I was saying, if we don't lick him every now and then there'll be no bearing it. He'll get worse and worse."

So it was to show their contempt for the young lout that they invented names for him—weakly, perhaps, but very boylike—and for a time he was James the Second, but the lad seemed rather to approve of that; and it was soon changed for Barnacle, which had the opposite effect, and two fights down in a sandy cave resulted, at intervals of a week, one with each of his enemies, after which the Barnacle lay down as usual, and cried into the sand, which acted, Vince said, like blotting paper.

Tar-pot, suggested by a begrimed appearance, lasted for months, and was succeeded by Doughy, and this again by Puffy, consequent upon the lad's head having so peculiar a tendency to what home-made bread makers call "rise," and as there was no baker on Cormorant Crag the term was familiar enough.

A whole string of forgotten names followed, but none of them stuck, for they did not irritate Carnach junior; but the right one in the boys' eyes was found at last, upon a very hot day, following one upon which Vince and Mike had been prawning with stick and net among the rock pools under the cliffs,—and prawning under difficulties. For as they climbed along over, or waded amongst the fallen rocks detached from the towering heights above, Carnach junior, who had watched them descend, furnished himself with a creel full of heavy pebbles, and, making his way to the top of the cliffs, kept abreast and carefully out of sight, so as to annoy his natural enemies from time to time by dropping a stone into, or as near as he could manage to the little pool they were about to fish.

Words, addressed apparently to space, though really to the invisible foe, were vain, and the boys fished on; but they did not take home many prawns for Mrs Burnet to have cooked for their tea.

The very next day, though, they had their revenge, for they came upon the lad toiling homeward, shouldering a couple of heavy oars, a boat mast and yard, and the lug-sail rolled round them, and lashed so as to form a big bundle, as much as he could carry; and, consequent upon his scarlet face, Vince saluted him with:

"Hullo, Lobster!"

That name went like an arrow to the mark, and pierced right through the armour of dense stupidity in which the boy was clad. Lobster! That fitted with his father's weakness and the jeering remarks he had often heard made by neighbours; and ever after the name stuck, and irritated him whenever it was used.

It was used on the morning when Vince was thinking deeply of the discovery of the previous day, and going over to Sir Francis Ladelle's for his lessons with Mike. As we have said, he was saluted with coarse, jeering laughter, and the contemptuous utterance of the words "Going to school?"

Being excited, Vince turned sharply upon the great hulking lad, and his eyes began to blaze war, but with a laugh he only fell back on the nickname.

"Hullo, Lobster!" he cried: "that you?" and went on.

Carnach junior doubled his fists, and looked as if he were going to attack; but Vince, strong in the consciousness that he could at any time thrash the great lad, walked on with his books, heedless of the fact that he was followed at a distance, for his head was full of kegs and bales neatly done up in canvas, standing in good-sized stacks.

"I wonder how many years it has been there," he kept on saying to himself; and he was still wondering when he reached the old manor gates, went into the study, and there found Mike and their tutor waiting.

Both lads tried very hard to keep their discovery out of their minds that morning, but tried in vain. There it was constantly, and translated itself into Latin, conjugated and declined itself, and then became compound algebraic equations, with both.

Mr Deane bore all very patiently, though, and a reproachful word or two about inattention and condensation of thought upon study was all that escaped him.

At last, to Vince's horror, things came to a kind of climax, for Mike suddenly looked across the table at the tutor, and said quickly:—

"I say, Mr Deane!"

The tutor looked up at once.

"I want to ask you a question in—in—something—"

"Mathematics?" suggested the tutor.

"N-no," said Mike: "I think it must be in law or social economy. I don't know, though, what you would call it."

"Well: let me hear."

"Suppose anybody discovered a great store of smuggled goods, hidden in a—some place. Whom would it belong to?"

"To the people who put it there, of course." Vince's eyes almost blazed as he turned them upon the questioner.

"Yes," continued Mike; "but suppose there were no people left who put it there, and they had all died, perhaps a hundred years ago?"

"Oh, then," said the tutor thoughtfully, "I should think it would belong to the people upon whose ground it was discovered,—or no: I fancy it would be what is called 'treasure trove,' and go to the crown."

"Crown—crown? What, to a public-house?"

"No, no, my dear boy: to the king."

"Oh, I see," said Mike thoughtfully. "Is that all?"

"Yes, sir; that's all."

"Well, then, wasn't it rather a foolish question to ask, just in the middle of our morning's work? There, pray go on: we are losing a great deal of time."

The boys tried to get on; but they did not, for Mike was conscious of being kicked twice, and Vince was making up a tremendous verbal attack upon his fellow-student for letting out the discovery they had made.

It came to words as soon as the lessons were over, and Mike took his cap to accompany Vince part of the way home, and make their plans for the afternoon.

"I couldn't help it—'pon my word I couldn't," cried Mike. "I felt like that classic chap, who was obliged to whisper secrets to the water, and that I must speak about that stuff there to somebody."

"And now he'll go and talk to your father about it, and our secret place will be at an end. Why, we might have kept it all quiet for years!"

"So we can now. I put it so that old Deane shouldn't understand. I say, if he's right we can't claim all that stuff: it'll belong to the king."

"I suppose so," said Vince.

"Never mind: we'll keep it till he wants it. Hullo! what's old Lobster doing there?"

Vince turned in the direction pointed out; and, sure enough, there was Carnach junior sunning himself on a block of granite, which just peeped up through the grass.

"Got nothing to do, I suppose," said Vince. "I saw him when I was coming. But never mind him. And I say, don't, pray don't be so stupid again."

"All right. I'll try not to be, if it was stupid," said Mike. "Well, how about this afternoon?"

"I'll come and meet you at the old place, about half-past two."

This was agreed to; and, full of anticipations about the examination of the farther cave, they parted, leaving Carnach junior apparently fast asleep upon the grey stone.

Just as Vince reached home he came upon Daygo, who gave him a nod; and the lad flushed as he thought triumphantly of the discoveries they had made, in the face of the old fisherman's superstitious warnings of terrible dangers.

"Morn'—or art'noon, young gen'leman," said Daygo, by way of salutation. "Lookye here: I'm going out 'sart'noon to take up my pots and nets, and if you and young squire likes to come, I'll take you for a sail."

"Where will you take us?" said Vince eagerly.

"Oh, round and about, and in and out among the rocks."

"Will you sail right away round by the Black Scraw?"

"No, I just won't," growled the old man fiercely. "What do you want to go round about the Scraw for?"

"To see what it's like, and find some of the terrible currents and things you talked about, Joe."

"Lookye here, my lad," growled the old fellow, "as I told you boys afore, I want to live as long as I can, and not come to no end, with the boat bottom uppards and me sucked down by things in the horrid whirlypools out there. Why, what would your mars and pars say to me if I took you into dangers 'orrible and full o' woe? Nay, nay, I arn't a young harem-scarem-brained chap, and I shan't do it: my boat's too good. So look here, if you two likes to come for a bit o' fishing, I'll take the big scrarping spoon with me, and go to a bank I know after we've done, and try and fish you up a basket o' oysters. If you comes you comes, but if you arn't wi' me soon arter dinner, why, I hystes my sail and goes by myself. So what do you say?"

"I can't say anything without seeing Mike Ladelle first. Look here: I'm going to him this afternoon, and if he'll come, we'll run over to the little dock where your boat is."

"Very good, young gen'leman; on'y mind this: if you arn't there punctooal, as folks call it, I'm off without you, and you'll be sorry, for there's a powerful lot o' fish about these last few days."

"Don't wait if we're not there directly after dinner," said Vince.

Old Daygo chuckled.

"You needn't be afraid of that, my lad," he said; "and mind this,—if you're late and I've started, I'm not coming back, so mind that. D'reckly you've had your bit o' dinner, or I'm gone."

"All right, Joe," cried Vince; and he hurried in, feeling pulled both ways, for he could not help nursing the idea that, once out a short distance at sea, he might be able to coax the old fisherman into taking them as close as he could safely get to the ridge of rocks which hid the little rounded cove from passers-by.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

A SPY ON THE WAY.

Punctual to the time the lads met; and Vince, who was full of old Daygo's proposal, laid it before his companion.

"What!" cried Mike; "go with him, when we've got such an adventure before us! You wouldn't do that!"

"Why not? We can go to the caverns any day, and this will be a chance to sail round and see what the outside of the Scraw is like."

"Did he say he would take us there?" cried Mike eagerly.

"No; but we'd persuade him."

"Persuade him!" cried Mike, bursting into a mocking laugh. "Persuade old Joe! Why, you do know better than that."

Vince frowned and said nothing, for he did know better, and felt that he had let his desires get the better of his judgment.

"Very well," he said. "You'd rather not go?"

"Well, wouldn't you rather go and have a look at those old things than see a few fish in a net?"

"Yes, if Joe wouldn't sail round where I want to go."

"Well, he wouldn't, and you know it. Why, this is a chance. You felt sure he was watching us; and he'll be off to sea, where he can't."

"Off, then!" said Vince; and, full of anticipations, they made for the oak wood, and were soon at the opening, into which, without pausing to look round, they leaped down quickly; and, after lighting the lanthorn, descended as rapidly as they could to the rope.

The place looked as beautiful as ever, as they slid down to the sandy floor of the inner cavern, and more than ever like the interior of some large shell; while the outer cave, with its roof alive, as it were, with the interlacing wavings and quiverings reflected from the sunny surface of the sea, would have made any one pause.

But the boys had no eyes for anything that day but the wonders of their new discovery; and, quickly getting to work with the rope and grapnel, Mike threw it up.

"Got a bite!" he cried. "No: he's off."

For, after catching, the grapnel gave way again.

The second time he missed; but the third he got another hold, and told Vince to climb first.

This he did, and in a very few seconds he was two-thirds of the way up, when with a scrape the grapnel gave way, and Vince came down flat on his back in the sand, with the iron upon him.

"Hurt?" cried Mike.

"Not much," said Vince, rubbing one leg, which the iron had struck. "Try again."

Mike threw once more, got a hold, and, to prove it, began to climb, and reached the opening safely. Then the lanthorn was drawn up, Vince followed, and this time taking the rope with them, they went along through the peculiar zigzag free from doubts and dread of dangers unknown, so that they could think only of the various difficulties of the climb.

Upon nearing the open end of the fissure they kept back the lanthorn and advanced to peer down cautiously; but, save a few pigeons flying in and out, there was no sign of life. Everything was just as they had seen it before; the footprints all over the trampled sand, which had probably been made ages before, so they thought; the boat mast, sails, and ropes, were at the side, and in the shadowy upper part there were the stacks of bales and the carefully piled-up kegs.

"Well?" said Mike; "shall we go down?"

"Of course."

"But suppose there is any one there?"

"We'll soon see," said Vince; and, placing his hands to his mouth, he gave vent to a hullo! whose effect was startling; for it echoed and vibrated about the great cave, startling a flock of pigeons, which darted out with a loud whistling of wings.

Then the sound came back in a peculiar way from the barrier of rocks across the bay, for there was evidently a fluttering there among the sea-birds, some of which darted down into sight just outside the mouth of the cave.

"Nobody at home," said Vince merrily, "and hasn't been lately. Now then: may I go first?"

"If you like," said Mike; and, after securely hooking the grapnel in a crevice, Vince threw the rope outward from him into the cavern, where it touched the sand some twenty feet below.

"There we are!" he said; "that's easier than throwing it up."

"Yes, but look sharp down. I want to have a good look."

"After me," said Vince mockingly; and, taking the rope, he lowered himself out of the crack, twisted his leg round the hemp, and quickly dropped hand over hand to the flooring of the cave.

"Ever so much bigger than ours, Mike," he shouted, and then turned sharply round, for a voice said plainly:

"Ours, Mike."

"I say, what an echo!"

"Echo!" came back.

"Well, I said so."

"Said so."

"Hurrah!" cried Mike, as he too reached the floor, and a soft "Rah" came from the other side.

Their hearts beat fast with excitement as they stood in the middle of the cave, looking round, and pretty well taking in at a glance that it was far larger and more commodious than the one they had just quitted, especially for the purpose of a store, having the hinder part raised, as it were, into a dais or platform, upon which the little barrels and packages were stored; while behind these they were able now to see through the transparent gloom that the place ran back for some distance till flooring and roof met. Instead, too, of the entrance being barred by ridge after ridge of rocks, there was only one some little distance beyond the mouth to act as a breakwater, leaving ample room for a boat to come round at either end and be beached upon the soft sand, which lay perfectly smooth where the water slightly rose and fell.

There was a fine view of the rounded cove from here; and the boys felt that if they were to wade out they would be able to get beyond the archway sufficiently to look up the overhanging face of the cliff; but, with the recollection of the quicksands at the mouth of their own cave, neither of them felt disposed to venture, and they were about to turn back and examine the goods stored behind them, when on their right there was a loud rush and a heavy splash, and Mike seized his companion's arm just as a head rose out of the water, and for a moment it seemed as if a boy was watching them, the face being only faintly seen, from the head being turned away from the light.

"Seal," said Vince quietly. "Shows how long it is since any one was here, for things like that to be about!"

He caught up a couple of handfuls of sand and flung it toward the creature, which dived directly, but rose again to watch them, its curiosity being greatly excited.

"Won't come ashore and attack us, will it?" said Mike.

"No fear. I daresay it would bite, though, if we had it in a corner, and it couldn't pass. Look! one must have come ashore there."

He pointed to a smooth channel in the sand, where one of the curious animals had dragged itself a few feet from the water, going back by another way, and so forming a kind of half-moon.

"Let it watch us: it don't matter," said Mike. "Come and have a look at the packages."

They walked up to the pile of kegs, and Vince took one down, to find that it was peculiar in shape and hooped with wood.

"Empty," he said; "it's light as can be."

"Try another," said Mike; and Vince put the one he held down, and tried one after another—at least a dozen.

"The stuff has all run out or evaporated," he said. "Hark here!"

He tapped the end of one with his knuckles, but, instead of giving forth a hollow sound, the top sounded dead and dull.

"They're not empty," he said, giving one a shake: "they must be packed full of something light. And I say, Mike, they look as if they couldn't be many years old."

"That's because the cavern's so clean and dry. Let's look at the packages. I say, smell this one. There's no mistake about it—cloves!"

Vince nodded, and they tried others, which gave out, some the same unmistakable odour, others those of cinnamon and nutmeg.

Further examination of some small, heavy, solid packets left little doubt in the lads' minds that they were dealing with closely folded or rolled pieces of silk, and they ended their examination by trying to interpret the brands with which some of the packages were marked.

"One can't be sure without opening them," said Vince eagerly; "but I feel certain that these are silk, the other packages spice, and the kegs have got gloves and lace in them. There are two kinds."

"Yes; some are larger than the others. Shall we open a few of them, to see if they've been destroyed by time?"

"No, not yet," replied Vince thoughtfully. "Let's go and have a look at that boat sail and the oars. Those oars ought to be old and worm-eaten—ready to tumble to pieces—and the sail-cloth like so much tinder!"

Mike nodded, and followed him rather unwillingly; for the keg nearest to his hand fascinated him, and he longed intensely to force out the head.

It was not many steps to where the boat gear stood and lay, and Vince began to haul it about after the first glance.

"Look here, Ladle!" he cried; "these things are not so very old. The canvas is as strong as can be, and it can't be so many years since these oars were marked with a hot iron."

"Oh, nonsense!" said Mike, who did not like to give up his cherished ideas; "it's because they're so dry and safe here."

"It isn't," said Vince impetuously; "and look here, at all these footmarks!"

"Well, what's to prevent them from being just the same after a hundred years?"

"The wind," cried Vince. "If those marks were old the sand would have drifted in and covered them over quite smooth, same as the floor was in our cave before we walked about it. Mike, all these things are quite new, and haven't been put here long."

"Nonsense! who could have put them?"

"I don't know; but here they are, and if we don't look out some one will come and catch us. This is a smugglers' cave."

"But there are no smugglers here. Who ever heard of smugglers at the Crag!"

"I never did; but I'm sure these are smuggled goods."

"Well, I don't know," said Mike. "It seems very queer. The cave can't be so dangerous to come to, if boats can land cargoes. Old Daygo's all wrong, then?"

"Of course he is; so are all the people. Every one has told us that the Black Scraw was a terrible place, and looked as if they thought it was haunted by all kinds of sea goblins. Let's get away."

"Think we'd better?"

"Yes; I keep expecting to see a boat come round the corner into sight. I shouldn't like to be here when they did come."

"But it's so disappointing!" cried Mike. "I thought we were going to have all this to ourselves."

"I don't think I did," said Vince thoughtfully.

"But I don't believe you're right, Cinder. These things can't have been put here in our time, or we must have known of it. See what a little place the Crag is."

"Yes, it's small enough, but the Scraw has always been as if it were far away, and people could come here and do what they liked."

"But they wouldn't be so stupid as to come here and leave things for nobody," said Mike. "Is there anybody here who would want them?"

"No," replied Vince; "but smugglers might make this a sort of storehouse, and some bring the things here from France and Holland and others come and fetch them away. There, come on, and let's get up into the crack. I don't feel safe. It has regularly spoiled our place, though, for whoever comes here must know of the other cave."

"Well," said Mike, as they stood by the rope, and he gazed longingly back at the rich store he was about to leave behind, "I'll come; but I don't believe you're right."

"You'll soon see that I am, Ladle; for before long all these things will be taken away—perhaps by the time we come again."

"If it's as you say we shan't be able to come again," replied Mike rather dolefully; and then, in obedience to an impatient sign from his companion, he took hold of the rope and climbed slowly up, passing in at the opening, and being followed by Vince directly after.

Then the rope was drawn up and coiled, and both took a long and envious look at the cargo that had been landed there at some time or other, before making their way along the fissure to their own place.

"I don't believe any one would do as we've done, and come along there," said Mike, as soon as they were safely back. "Perhaps, if you're right about that stuff being new, these smuggling people don't, after all, know of this cave."

"They must have seen it when they were going and coming in their boat, and would have been sure to land and come in."

"Land where?" said Mike scornfully. "No boat could land here, and nobody could wade in, on account of the quicksands. But I'm right, Cinder. These things are awfully old, and they'll be ours after all."

"Very well: we shall see," said Vince. "But I don't feel disposed to stop here now. Let's get back home."

"Yes," said Mike, with a sigh, "let's get back home;" and, after setting up a fresh bit of candle, they started for the inner cave, ascended the slope, and made their way along the black passage to the spot where they put out and hid their lanthorn.

This done, with the caution taught by the desire to keep their hiding-place secret, Vince stepped softly on to the opening, and was about to pass along to the end, but he paused to peer out through the briars to see if all was right, and the next moment he stood there as if turned to stone. Mike crept up to him and touched his shoulder, feeling sure from his companion's fixed attitude that something must be wrong.

The answer to his touch was the extension of Vince's hand, and he pointed upward and toward the side of the deep rift.

Mike turned his head softly, and gazed in the indicated direction. For some moments he could see nothing for the briars and ferns; but at last he bent a trifle more forward, and his fists clenched, for there, upon one of the stones beside the entrance to their cave, with his hand shading his eyes, and staring upward apparently at the ridge, was Carnach junior.

"Spying after us," said Mike to himself; "and he does not know that we are close to his feet."



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

SOME DOUBTS ABOUT THE DISCOVERY.

Certainly Lobster did not know how near the two boys were, and he soon proved it by coming closer, looking down, and then turning to reconnoitre in another direction.

Vince stared at Mike, and their eyes simultaneously said the same thing: "He must have been watching us, and seen us come in this direction."

It was evident that he had soon lost the clue in following them, although, judging from circumstances, he must have tracked them close to where they were.

They recollected now that they had not exercised their regular caution— though, even if they had, it is very doubtful whether they would have detected a spy who crawled after them, for the cover was too thick—and a feeling of anger troubled both for allowing themselves to be outwitted by a lout they both held in utter contempt.

They stood watching their spy for nearly a quarter of an hour, and were able to judge from his actions that he had seen them disappear somewhere in this direction; and in profound ignorance in this game of hide and seek that he was having, Carnach scanned the high slope and the ridge, and the bottom where the stones lay so thickly again and again, ending by ensconcing himself behind one of them, after plucking some fern fronds, and putting them on the top of his cap to act as a kind of screen in case those he sought should come into sight somewhere overhead.

The two boys hardly dared stir, but at last, with his eyes fixed upon Carnach to see if he heard their movement, Vince pointed softly back into the dark passage, and Mike crept away without making the slightest sound. Then, as soon as he was satisfied of the coast being clear behind him, Vince began to back away till he felt it safe to turn, and followed his companion some fifty yards into the darkness, which now seemed to be quite a refuge to them.

"Where are you?" whispered Vince.

A low cough told him that he was not yet far enough; and, keeping one hand upon the wall, he followed until he felt himself touched.

"I say," he whispered, "this is nice: smugglers at one end and that miserable Lobster at the other! What are we to do?"

"I don't know," said Mike dolefully. "He must have seen us go out of sight, and feels sure that we shall come back again, and he'll wait till we do."

"No, no; he'll soon get tired."

"Not he," said Mike; "he's just one of those stupid, heavy chaps who will sit or lie down and wait for us for a week."

"But I want to get home. I'm growing hungry."

"Let's go back and fish, and light a fire and cook it."

"What, for him to smell the frying? He would, as sure as could be. No; we must wait."

"I say, Cinder," whispered Mike, "what an unlucky day we are having! Everything seems to go wrong."

"It'll go worse still if you whisper so loud," said Vince; "the sound runs along the walls here, and gets stronger, I believe, as it goes."

"Well, I can't help it; I feel so wild. I say, couldn't we creep out without being seen, and get home?"

"Yes, when it's dark; not before."

"But that means waiting here for hours, and I feel as if I can't settle to anything now. Let's go back down to the cave. The smugglers can't come to-day. It would be too bad."

"Better wait here and watch till Lobster goes," said Vince; but, yielding at last to his companion's importunity, he was about to follow him back, when there was a loud rustling, a heavy thud, and then a dismal howl.

The Lobster had slipped and fallen into the rift while backing so as to get a better view of the ridge.

"Oh my! Oh my! Oh, mother! Oh, crikey! Oh my head—my head! Oh, my arm! Oh, it's broke! And I'm bleeding! Won't nobody come and help me?"

The above, uttered in a piteous, dismal wail, was too much for Vince's feelings; and, pushing his companion aside, he was about to hurry to the lad's help, but Mike seized him by the arm, and at the same moment they heard Carnach junior jump up and begin stamping about.

"Here, who did this?" he roared. "What fool's been digging stone here and left this hole o' purpose for any one to fall in? Wish he'd tumbled in himself, and broke his stoopid old head. Yah! Oh my, how it hurts!"

He stamped about in the hollow, and they heard him kick one of the stones with his heavy boots in his rage.

"Wish them two had tumbled in 'stead o' me. Oh dear, oh! Here's a mess I'm in! Making a great hole like this, and never leaving no stuff outside. Might ha' been deep, and killed a chap. It aren't broke through," he grumbled, after a pause. "Wonder where they've got to. Oh dear! oh dear! what a crack on the head! That comes o' going backwards. Yah!"

This last ejaculation was accompanied by the rattle of stones, as the great lad evidently kicked another piece that was in his way; and, feeling now that there was nothing serious in the fall, Vince gave Mike's hand a squeeze as they stood listening and expecting every moment to hear the young fisherman say something in the way of surprise as he saw the dark hole going downward. But they listened in vain,—full of anxiety, though, for it was like a second blow to find that their secret place was becoming very plain, known as it evidently was to people at the sea entrance, and now from the landward side discovered by the greatest enemy they had.

Vince felt this so strongly that, in spite of the risk of being heard, he put his lips to Mike's ear and whispered: "This spoils all."

Mike responded in the same way: "I say, what's he doing? Shall I go and see?"

"No, I will," whispered back Vince.

"Take care."

Vince's answer was a squeeze of the hand. Then, going down upon all fours, he crept silently and slowly up the slope till he could see the lad, expecting to find him peering about the mouth of the passage, and trying to see whether they were there.

But nothing of the kind. There was the young fisherman seated upon a piece of stone, with the light shining down upon him through the brambles, busily tying his neckerchief round his head, making it into a bandage to cover a cut somewhere on the back, and tying it in front over his forehead. Then, picking up his cap, which lay beside him, he drew it on over the handkerchief, having most trouble to cover the knot, but succeeding at last.

Then he stood up and began to examine his hands, which appeared to be scratched and bleeding; and making Vince start and feel that he was seen, for the boy turned in the direction of the dark passage and cried viciously:

"All right, Doctor: I'll let yer have it next time I ketches yer—and you too, old Squire. Oh my! how it smarts, though! Wonder wherever they got."

Those last words came like a fillip to Vince's spirits, for he felt now that there was nothing to mind, as he could not give the Lobster credit for knowing that they were close at hand and acting his part so as to make believe he was in ignorance.

Just then a light touch told Vince that Mike had crawled silently up behind him; and they both crouched there now, in the darkness, watching the lad, till he suddenly seemed to become impressed by the fact that the hole went right in underground, and he stood staring in till the two boys felt that he was looking at them and seeing them plainly.

"Goes right in," he said aloud—"ever so far, p'r'aps. Well, let it. I aren't going to get myself all wet and muddy. Oh! how it do hurt!"

He raised his hand to the back of his head; but he remained staring in, the boys hardly daring to breathe, as each doubled his fists, and prepared for an encounter.

"He must see us," thought Vince; and when he felt most certain, his heart gave a throb of satisfaction, for a slight movement on the lad's part brought his face more into the light, and Vince could see that there was a vague look in the lad's eyes, as if he were thinking; and then he turned slowly round and began to look about for the best way out of the trap into which he had fallen, proceeding to drag at the brambles in one spot where an exit seemed easiest; but a sharp prick or two made him snatch away his hands with an angry ejaculation, and, looking about again, he noticed that there was a simpler way out at the end—that used by the two boys for returning, their entries always now being by a sudden jump down through the pendent green shoots.