"What!" growled the smuggler. "Not got tame yet?"

"Tame, you miserable ruffian! How dare you speak to an officer in His Majesty's Navy like that? There never was such an outrage before. Unfasten these irons, I say, and take me out!"

"Why, skipper," said the smuggler, mockingly, "your temper gets worse and worse."

"My temper, you dog!" cried the midshipman, furiously. "How dare you treat me like this?"

"And how dare you come with your gang, knocking honest men on the head and dragging them off to sea?" retorted Eben. "You'd think nothing of putting them in irons because they wouldn't take to the sea. How do you like it, my young springold?"

"I'm not going to argue with you, you ruffian, about that," cried the midshipman. "Now, look here, that woman who brought me the wretched food said she dare not and could not unlock that iron I've got round my ankle, but that when her husband came I was to ask him. Now, then, you're the husband, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes, I'm the husband, safe enough," growled the smuggler.

"Then I order you in the King's name to take these irons off."

"You wait a bit, captain," said the smuggler; "all in good time. Here, take it coolly for a bit longer; I've brought you some company."

"Ah, who's that with you? I thought I saw someone and heard whispering."

The smuggler held the lanthorn lower and opened the door, so that the candle light shone full on Aleck's face.

"You?" cried the midshipman, excitedly. "Then I was right; I thought you were one of the smuggling gang."

"Then you thought wrong," said Aleck, shortly.

"What do you want here?" cried the prisoner, wildly, for the fit of rage and command into which he had forced himself was fast dying down into misery and despair.

"I've come to help you, middy," cried Aleck, warmly, and he sank upon one knee and caught the poor fellow's hand.

"To—to—to help me?" he gasped.

"Yes, and to have you out into the daylight again. You, Eben Megg, take off the chain directly!" cried Aleck. "How dare you chain an officer and a gentleman as if he were a thief or a dog?"

"Oh!" cried the prisoner, and the ejaculation sounded wildly hysterical and passionate as that of a girl. "Oh—oh! Don't—don't speak to me— don't! Oh, you—I can't bear it! I'm not a coward, but I've been shut up down here in the horrible darkness of this place till I've been half mad at times, and—and I'm half mad now. It's the loneliness—the being alone down here night and day."

"Of course it is," cried Aleck, feeling half choked as he spoke; and holding the lad's hand tightly between his own, he kept pressing it hard, and ended by shaking it more and more warmly as he spoke. "Of course, of course it is. It would have driven me quite mad; but you shan't feel the loneliness again, for I'll stop with you till you're out, happen what may."

"Hah! Thank you, thank you!" whispered the prisoner. "I couldn't help breaking down. I did try so very hard. I didn't think that I should behave like a girl."

"Hush!" whispered Aleck, who had interposed between the prisoner and the gaoler with his lanthorn. "Hold up; don't let him see. There, it's going to be all right now. There's a boat's crew and an officer from the cutter somewhere above on the cliff, trying to find you."

"What!" cried the midshipman, holding on to Aleck now with both hands. "Is that true, or are you saying it to keep up my spirits?"

"It's as true as true," cried Aleck.

"Then I'll hail again. Oh, how I have hailed! Do you think they could hear me now the water's up?"

"Perhaps," said Aleck. "I heard you, and I've been hunting for long enough to find the way down."

"What!" cried the middy, who was beginning to master the emotion from which he had suffered. "Then you didn't know the way?"

"No, not till just now."

"But you knew of this horrible cave?"

"No; though it isn't above a mile from where I live."

"I—I thought you were mixed up with these smugglers, and—and—I beg your pardon."

"There's nothing to beg pardon about," said Aleck, cheerfully. "There, I'm going to have you out of this. Now, then, Eben, bring the light closer. Where did these fetters come from?"

"Out of a King's ship as was wrecked off Black Point, Master Aleck. We got dozens out of the sands. They're what they use when they put men in irons."

"Nonsense."

"I tell you they are, sir. You ask Tom Bodger if they arn't."

"Yes, they're the regular irons," said the midshipman, huskily; and Aleck, who still held his hand, felt that he was all of a tremble.

"So, you see, Master Aleck, it's on'y fair. Tit for tat, you know."

"That will do, sir," cried the lad, sharply. "Don't be a coward as well as cruel to this gentleman. Now, then, set down the lanthorn on one of the stones and unlock this fetter, or whatever it is."

"Can't, sir," said the man, gruffly.

"What! I order you to do it."

"Yes, sir, I hear you, but the chain's locked round his ankle."

"Well, I know that. Unlock it."

"Well, I would, sir, as it's come to this, but I arn't got the key."

"What!" cried Aleck, with a chill of despair running through him. "Where is it, then?"

"My missus or one of the other women's got it."

"But you said there were a lot of these irons; there must be more than one key."

"I never saw but one, sir, and that we had up at home. It was my old woman's idee to chain him up like this. You see, it's three or four of them irons locked together, and one end's about his ankle and the other's locked to the ring there that we let into the rock and fixed with melted lead so as to fix tackle to when we wanted to haul in casks or moor a boat."

"Then you must go and find your wife, and get it," said Aleck, firmly.

"Go up on the cliff, young gentleman, and walk right into the hands of the boat's crew hunting for me, eh?"

"I don't care; I will have this gentleman set free. You may not meet any of the sailors," cried Aleck, and almost at every word of his brave standing up for the prisoner he felt himself rewarded by a warm pressure of the hand.

"That's all right enough, Master Aleck Donne, but you know what I've told you 'bout being made prisoner and having to nearly lose my life in swimming for my liberty?"

"Yes, perfectly well; but I must have him cast free, even if he has to wait a bit before he goes out of the cave."

"But you heard, too, what he said, sir, and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if, when they caught me, they did hang me to the yard-arm of one of their ships."

"Yes, yes, I know," said Aleck; "but—"

"But you arn't reasonable, Master Aleck. My life's as much to me as another man's is to him, whether he's a poor fellow or a gentleman. Now, look here, you know yourself it arn't safe for me to go out of the cave now, is it?"

"Well, I'm afraid it is not just yet, Eben; but—"

"Wait a minute, Master Aleck. Give a man a chance. Look here; as soon as it's dark I'll go up on to the cliff and try and get to my cottage, and as soon as I can get the key I'll come back and let your orficer here go loose if he'll swear as he won't show his people the way down here."

"No," cried the midshipman, firmly; "I can't promise that."

"Not to get free, squire?" said Eben, grimly.

"N-no, I can't do that. It's my duty to help clear out this place. I can't; don't ask me. I can't promise that."

"Look here," said Aleck, smiling; "could you lead a party down here?"

The midshipman started, and was silent.

"How did you come down here?"

"Come down? I didn't come down. I was half stunned, and then thrown into a boat. I can just recollect feeling myself dragged out again, and then I lay sick and giddy, just as if I was in a horrible dream, till I awoke in the darkness to find that I was chained up here."

"Then he could not lead a party here, Eben," said Aleck; "and you could get him out of here so that he would never know how he was taken out."

"Ah!" said the middy, sharply. "Then you two didn't come in a boat?"

"Never you mind how we came or how we didn't, my lad," said the smuggler, "we're here; and as the game's up, Master Aleck, and all I want to do is to keep out of the clutches of the press-gang and the law, I'll do as I said, go up by and by and try to get the key, and if I can't get the key I'll bring down a file."

"That will do, Eben—I'll trust you; and as you're going to do your best now I don't think Mr—Mr—"

"Wrighton," said the middy.

"Mr Wrighton will want to be hard on a man who wants to escape from being pressed. How long will it be before it's safe to go up?"

"I daren't go till it's midnight, my lad. I've been run too close before, and as it is I'm not sure but what they'll be waiting for me about my home; but anyhow I'll try."

"And I must wait till then?" said the middy, with a break in his voice.

"Yes," said Aleck; "but I shall keep my word—I'll stick by you till you're free."

"Ah!" ejaculated the lad, and his voice sounded more natural, as he added, in a low tone to Aleck: "Don't think me a coward, please. You don't know what it is to be shut up in a place like this."

"No," said Aleck; "but if I were I should feel and act just as you have, and I hope be quite as brave."

A pressure of the hand conveyed the midshipman's thanks, and directly after the two lads awoke to the fact that the smuggler was doing something which could mean nothing else but the providing of something to eat and drink.

For upon raising the lanthorn to look around, he came upon a basket, and beside it a good-sized bottle, both of which he examined.

"Why, skipper," he said, "you haven't eat your dinner!"

"How could I eat at a time like this?" said the midshipman, angrily.

"Well, I s'pose it didn't give you much hankering arter eating tackle," said the smuggler, grimly. "I took nowt but water when I was aboard your ship; but you ought to eat and drink now you ye got to the end of your troubles, thanks to Master Aleck here. Why, you've got two lots. What's in the bottles?"

The speaker screwed out the corks of two bottles, one after the other, and smelt the contents.

"Ha! Water. Want anything stronger?" he said, with a grin. "Plenty o' Right Nantes yonder," he added, with a jerk of his thumb over the right shoulder.

"No, no, I don't want anything," said the midshipman, impatiently.

"Well, sir, I do," said Eben. "I'm down faint, and if you don't mind— what do you say, Master Aleck?"

"I never thought of it," replied Aleck; "but now you talk about eating and drinking you make me feel ready. Let's have something, Mr Wrighton; it will help to pass away the time."

The result was that the contents of the basket were spread between them, and from forcing down a mouthful or two of food the prisoner's appetite began to return, and a good meal was made, Aleck and the smuggler naturally playing the most vigorous part.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

Aleck ate heartily, for the state of affairs began to look bright, but as he played his part his eyes were busy, and he noted that the beautiful effect of light which came through the transparent water beneath the submerged arch grew less and less striking till the colour had nearly faded out, while the water had evidently risen a good deal in the long canal-like pool, and was still rising, and where the cavern's weird configuration had in one part appeared through a dim shadowy twilight all was black darkness.

There had been a little talking during the consumption of the meal, but when it was ended silence had fallen upon the group. The smuggler had proceeded to fill a black pipe which he had lit at the lanthorn, and then drawn back a little, leaving the two youths to themselves; but very little was said, conversation in the man's presence seeming to be impossible.

The pipe was smoked to the very last, and then, after tapping out the hot ashes, the smuggler coughed and turned to the others.

"Look here, gen'lemen," he said; "I think we understand one another a bit now, which means I'm going to trust you two and you're going to trust me?"

"Yes," said Aleck.

"That's right, then. Of course, all I want to do is to get safe away so as to bring back the key of them irons, or a file, and as soon as we've got them off you're going to give me till to-morrow about this time before you come out?"

"We can't stay in this horrible hole all night," cried Aleck, impetuously.

"Don't see as it's much of a horrible hole, master," said the man; "there's plenty to eat and drink, and a good roof over your heads. I've slept here times enough. There arn't nothing to worry you—no old bogies. Wust thing I ever see here was a seal, which come in one night, splashing about; and he did scare me a bit till I knowed what it was. But that's the bargain, gentlemen, and there's no running back. There's the lanthorn, and there's a box yonder with plenty of candles, and a tinder-box with flint, steel, and matches, so you never need be in the dark. Plenty of bread and bacon, cheese, and butter too, so you'll be all right; so there's no call to say no more about that. Now, then, I'm going uppards to try if I can find out what's going on outside. I shall keep coming down to tell you till I think my chance of getting home has come, and then I shall run off and you'll wait till I come back."

"Very well," said Aleck, who found that he had all the talking to do, and after a time the smuggler rose.

"There," he said, "I'm going now. Say good luck to me."

"Well," replied Aleck, "good luck to you! Be as quick as you can. But what are you going to do about a light?"

"What for?" said the man, gruffly.

"To find your way to the zigzag slopes."

The smuggler laughed softly.

"I don't want any light to go about this place, squire. There arn't an inch I don't know by heart."

"I suppose not," said Aleck, thoughtfully. "But, look here; what about that place?"

"What about it, sir?"

"The getting up. Of course it was easy enough to slide down, but how about getting up?"

"Didn't I tell you? No, of course, I didn't. Look here, sir; it's all smooth in the middle, but if you keep close up to the left you'll find nicks cut in the stone just big enough for your toes, and as close together as steps. You'll find it easy enough."

"I understand," said Aleck, and the next minute they were listening to the faintly-echoing steps, for the moment the man stepped out of the faint yellow glow made by the lanthorn he plunged into intense black darkness. But from what he had so far gleaned of the configuration of the place the lad was pretty well able to trace the smuggler by his footsteps, till all at once there was a faint rustling, and then the gloom around was made more impressive by the silence which endured for a couple of minutes or so, to be succeeded by a faint, peculiar, echoing, scraping sound.

"What's that?" asked the midshipman, excitedly.

Aleck explained that it was evidently the noise made by the scraping of the smuggler's boots against the stone, as he ascended the zigzag crack to the surface.

This lasted for about a minute, to be succeeded by a peculiar harsh noise as of stone being drawn upon stone, after which there was another peculiar sound, also in some way connected with stone jarring against stone; but Aleck could give no explanation to his companion as to what that might be, feeling puzzled himself. Another stone seemed to be moved then, and it struck the listener that it might be somehow connected with the more level of the zigzag passages, though why he should have thought that he could not have explained.

Probably not more than three minutes were taken up altogether before the last faint sound had died completely away, and then Aleck found himself called upon to explain the configuration of the natural staircase by which ascent could be made and exit found. For it never occurred to the lad that he was in any way breaking the confidence placed in him in making the prisoner as familiar with the peculiarities of the cavern as he was himself. The midshipman, his companion in the strange adventure, had asked him about the shape and position of his prison, and he had explained what he knew. That was all.

The account took some time, for the prisoner's interest seemed to increase with what he learned, and his questions succeeded one another pretty quickly, with the result that in his explanations Aleck had to include a good deal of his own personal life, after which he did not scruple to ask his companion a little about his own on board ship.

"I say," said Aleck, at last, "isn't it droll?"

"Droll!" groaned the midshipman. "What, being shut up here?"

"No, no; our meeting as we did in Rockabie harbour, and what took place with the boys. I never expected to see you again, and now here have I found you out, a prisoner, chained by the leg, and in ever so short a time you and I have grown to be quite friends."

"Yes," said the midshipman, drawing a deep breath. "I didn't like you the first time we met."

"And I didn't like you," said Aleck, laughing. "I thought you were stuck-up and consequential. I say, I wish Tom Bodger were here!"

"What, that wooden-legged rase sailor?"

"Yes."

"What good could he do—a cripple like that?"

"Cripple! Oh, I never thought of him as a cripple. He's as clever as clever. There isn't anything he won't try to do. I was thinking that if he were here he'd be scheming some plan or another to get rid of the chain about your leg."

"Hah!" sighed the midshipman, "but he isn't here. I say!"

"Well?"

"Hadn't you better have another candle to light—that one's nearly burned down?"

"I've got one quite ready, lying out here on the stone."

"Hah! That's right," said the prisoner. "It's so horrible to be in the dark."

"Oh, no; not when you've got company."

"But be quite ready. It might go out quickly."

"Well, if it did, I know where the flint and steel are."

"You couldn't find them in the dark."

"Oh, couldn't I? I kept an eye on everything Master Eben did."

"I say, do you think he will come back?"

"Yes; he's sure to, unless some of the cutter's men catch him and carry him off."

"Ah! and you think, then, that he wouldn't speak, out of spite, and leave us here to starve?" cried the middy, excitedly.

"No, I don't," said Aleck; "I don't think anything of the sort. Don't you be ready to take fright."

"I've been shut up in this place so long," said the middy, apologetically, "and it has made me as weak and nervous as a girl."

"Well, try not to be," said Aleck. "Look here; there's nothing like seeing the worst of things and treating them in a common-sense way. Now, suppose such a thing did happen as that Eben Megg did not come back—what then?"

"We should be starved to death."

"No, we shouldn't, for I daresay there's a good store here of biscuits and corned beef out of some ship, as well as smuggled goods, that we could eat."

"Till all was finished," said the middy, sadly.

"What of that? We could get out, couldn't we? I know the way."

"Oh, yes. I had forgotten that. But was there any door to the way down—trap-door?"

"Door? No," said Aleck, laughing. "It's all the natural stone, just chipped a little here and there to make it easier."

"That's right," said the midshipman, sadly. "But it is a terrible place to be shut up in. Hasn't he been very long?"

"Oh, no. I daresay he'll be a long time yet. Come, cheer up. Let's watch the water there. I wish I knew what the time was. Can't we tell? When the water looks blackest it ought to be high water. I wonder whether we shall see the arch quite cleared and the light shining through. Have you noticed it?"

"Don't!" said the young sailor, rather piteously. "I know what it means—you are talking like this to keep up my spirits."

"Well, suppose I am?"

"Don't try; it only makes me more weak and miserable. You can't think of the horrors I've suffered."

"But—"

"Yes, I know what you're going to say—that I ought to have been firmer, and fought against the dread and horror, and mastered the feelings."

"Something of the sort," said Aleck.

"Well, I did at first, but I gradually got weaker and weaker, till in the darkness and silence something happened which scared me ten times more than the being here alone."

"Something happened? What?" said Aleck, wonderingly.

"I suddenly felt frightened of myself."

"I don't understand you."

"I was afraid that I was losing my senses."

"Well, then, don't be afraid like that any more, for you're not going to lose them."

"Men have lost their wits by being shut up alone," said the middy, piteously.

"Perhaps. But you're not going to, for you're not alone, and all you've got to do is to lie there patiently and wait. I say, aren't you tired?"

"Oh, horribly. I couldn't sleep for the horror I felt."

"Well, you could now. Go to sleep, and I'll wake you when Eben Megg comes back."

"No," said the middy; "I couldn't sleep now. Suppose I awoke at last and found that you had gone!"

"Ah, you're going to imagine all sorts of things," said Aleck, who felt that he must do something to keep his companion from brooding over his position.

"Look here; suppose I go up the passage and see if I can make out anything about Eben!"

Before he had finished speaking he became aware of how terribly the poor fellow had been shaken by his confinement. For the lad caught him spasmodically by the arm with both hands.

"No, no," he panted. "Don't leave me—pray don't leave me."

"Very well, then, I'll stay," said Aleck; "but I do hope the poor fellow will not be caught by the cutter's men."

Aleck felt sorry as soon as he had said these words, for his companion gave another start.

"You feel that he won't come back?"

"I feel," said Aleck, quietly, "that we seem to be wasting time. Have you got a knife?"

"Yes, of course."

"So have I. Well, mine has a small blade; has yours?"

"Yes. Why?"

"One small blade would not be strong enough, but if two were thrust into the back of those irons together we might be able to open them. I believe all these fetters are opened by a square key, and I'm going to try."

"Ah, yes; do."

"Once get you free, we could pass the time climbing up the natural staircase, and get a look out from the top at the fresh green trees and clear sky."

Aleck's attempt to take his companion's attention was successful, inasmuch as after the production of the knives, and the changing the position of the opened lanthorn so that the dim light should do its best in illuminating the rusty anklet and chain, the midshipman began to take some feeble interest in the proceedings.

Aleck knew as much about handcuffs and fetters as he did about the binomial theorem, but he was one of those lads who are always ready to "have a try" at anything, and, after examining the square deeply-set holes which secured the anklets, he placed the two pen-blades of the knives together, forced them in as far as they would go, and tried to turn them.

The first effort resulted in a sharp clicking sound.

"There goes the edge of one blade," said the lad, coolly. "I hope it's your knife, and not mine. Hullo! Hooray! It turns!"

For the blades held fast, jammed as they were into the angles of the orifice, and the operator was able to turn the knives half way, and then all the way round.

"Now try," said the midshipman, beginning to take deep interest in the attempt.

"I have," said Aleck, gloomily; "the blades turn the inside, but the thing's as fast as ever."

"But you are not doing it right," said the middy.

"I suppose not; you try."

"No, no; go on. But you haven't turned enough."

"It wants the proper key," said Aleck.

"No, I think those knives will do, after all. I saw a sailor put in irons once for striking his superior officer, and I think that part wants not only turning like a key in a lock, but turning round and round, as if you were taking out a screw."

"Oh, I see," cried Aleck, with renewed eagerness, and he turned and turned till, to his great delight, the anklet fell open like an unclasped bracelet, and then dropped on to the folded sail-cloth which formed the prisoner's couch.

"Hooray!" shouted Aleck again.

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" cried the young officer, with a decision in his voice that brought up their first meeting in the harbour.

"There, it's all right," cried Aleck, as the young officer caught him by the hands; "nothing like patience and a good try."

"I—I can't thank you enough," said the middy, in a half suffocated voice.

"Well, who wants thanks, sailor?" cried Aleck. "Don't go on like that. It's all right. I'm as glad as you are. Now, then—oh, I say, your being shut up here has pulled you down!"

"Yes, more than I knew, old fellow," said the middy. "There, I'm better now. You can't tell what an effect it had upon one. There were times in the night when, after dragging and dragging at that miserable iron, I grew half wild and ready to gnaw at my leg to get it free. Why, if you know the way out we can escape now."

"Yes, but let's play fair by Eben Megg. He has gone to try and get the key to open this thing, and I promised that I would wait till he came back."

"But he will not come back, I feel sure. He's only a smuggler, and ready to promise anything."

"Oh, no," said Aleck, "I don't think that. If he is not taken by the men from the boat he'll come back, I feel sure. So let's wait till the morning."

"I can't—I tell you I can't," cried the midshipman, half wild with hysterical excitement. "I must get out now at any cost. I couldn't bear another night in this place."

"Nonsense," cried Aleck, good-humouredly. "You bore it when you felt almost hopeless as a prisoner; surely now that you are as good as free you can manage to bear one more night!"

"No, I cannot and I will not," cried the young officer. "See to that lanthorn at once, and let's get out of this living tomb."

Aleck lit a fresh candle and secured it in the sconce, watching the midshipman the while as he sat up rubbing the freshly-freed leg, and then stood up and stamped his foot as if the leg were stiff. Then, as if satisfied that he could get along pretty well, he turned to his companion.

"It's rather bad," he said, excitedly; "but—I can manage now. Jump up and come along."

Aleck remained silent.

"Do you hear?" cried the middy.

"Yes. It's time now that we had something more to eat," said the lad, quietly.

"Eat? Eat? Who's going to think of eating now? I want to get out and breathe the cool, soft air. I feel just as if I were coming to life after having been buried. Here, pick up the lanthorn and let's start."

"If Eben Megg does not come back by the morning," said Aleck, coldly.

"What! Do you mean to tell me that you are going to stay here all night when the way's open?"

"The way is not open," said Aleck, coldly.

"Not open? You told me there was no door or fastening at all."

"There is neither, but it's shut up by the promise I gave that man."

"You tell me really that you mean to stop here all night waiting for him?"

"Yes," said Aleck; "I was quite ready to stop here all night to keep you company when you were a prisoner chained to that wall."

The midshipman stood staring down at his companion as if half stunned, till better thoughts prevailed.

"Yes," he said, at last, in a quieter way. "So you were; and you would have done it, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would," said Aleck.

"And it wouldn't be fair to break your word, eh?"

"That's what I feel," was the reply.

"Yes, and I suppose it's right, Aleck—that's what they call you?"

"Yes, that's what they call me," said the lad, coldly.

"Yes—yes," said the middy, slowly. "I say, you're not an officer, but you're a jolly deal more of a gentleman than I am. You see, I've been a prisoner so long, and I want to get out."

"Of course; it's only natural."

"Well, then, you're going to show me the way out?"

"To-morrow morning, when I feel satisfied that Eben Megg will not come."

"No, no, to-night—if it is to-night yet. Come!"

"No," said Aleck, firmly. "I gave him my word that I'd wait, and I'll stay even if he doesn't come back; but I have no right to try and stop you."

"No, that you haven't; but I'm not going to behave worse than you do. Now, once more, are you going to show me the way out?"

"No," said Aleck.

To his intense astonishment the midshipman threw himself back upon his rough couch again.

"All right," he said; "I know what it means when you're all alone in the stillness here and your brain's at work conjuring up all sorts of horrible things. You've behaved very handsomely to me, old fellow, and I'm not going to be such a miserable beggar as to go and leave you in the lurch. If you stay, I stay too, and there's an end of it. Now, then, snuff the candle and hunt out some prog. I've been so that everything I put into my mouth tasted like sawdust, but I feel now as if I could eat like anything. Look sharp."

"Do you mean this?" cried Aleck, turning to his companion, excitedly.

"Of course I do," said the middy, merrily. "Think you're the only gentleman in the world?"

It was Aleck's turn to feel slightly husky in the throat, but he turned away to the rough basket and began to hand out its contents, joining his companion in eating hungrily, both working away in silence for a time.

Then the ex-prisoner opened the conversation, beginning to talk in a boisterous, careless way.

"I say, Aleck, we shall have plenty of time before lying down to sleep. Let's light two or three candles and have a jolly good rummage of the smugglers' stores."

"We will," cried the lad addressed.

"I shouldn't wonder if we find all sorts of things. Treasure, perhaps, from wrecked vessels. I wouldn't bet that these people hadn't been pirates in their time. That Eben, as you call him—I say, it ought to be Ebony—he looks a regular Blackbeard, skull-and-crossbones sort of a customer. We'll collar anything that seems particularly good. I'm just in the humour to say I've as good a right to what there is as anybody else; but we'll share—fair halves. I say!"

"What?"

"Old Blackbeard will stare when he finds that we've opened the irons. My word, I must go and see Mrs Ebony again. Nice woman she is, and no mistake."

"Did she fasten the iron ring on your ankle?"

"Well, no; I think it was an ugly old woman of the party; but I couldn't be sure, for they half killed me—smothered me, you know—and when I came the half way back to life the job was done."

Aleck entered into the spirit of the rummage, as his companion called it, and their search proved interesting enough; but after finding a vast store of spirits, tobacco, and undressed Italian silks, the principal things in the cavern were ship's stores—the flotsam and jetsam of wrecks, over which they bent till weariness supervened.

"Tired out," said Aleck, at last.

"So am I," was the reply, as they threw themselves side by side on the rough bed, after extinguishing all the candles they had stuck about the rock and confining themselves to a fresh one newly set up in the lanthorn.

"Shall we let it burn?" said Aleck, in deference to his comrade's feelings.

"Oh, hang it, no!" was the reply. "It might gutter down and set us on fire."

"Then you don't mind being in the dark?"

"Not a bit with you here. Do you mind?"

"I feel the same as you."

Five minutes later they were both sleeping quietly and enjoying as refreshing a slumber as ever fell to the lot of man or boy.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

Aleck woke up wondering, for he felt as if he had had a good night's rest and that it ought to be morning, whereas it was very dark.

This was puzzling, and what was more curious was the fact that on moving he found that he had his clothes on.

Naturally enough he moved, and turned upon his other side, to find that it was not so dark now, for he was looking at what seemed to be a beautifully blue dawn. Then someone yawned, and the lad was fully awake to his position.

"Sailor!" he said, loudly.

"Eh? My watch? My—my—I'll—here, Aleck, that you?"

"Yes, it's morning; rouse up. I fancy it must be late."

"Looks to me as if it is dreadfully early. I fancied I was being roused up to go on deck. What are you doing?"

"Going to get a light."

This Aleck did after the customary nicking and blowing. The candle in the lanthorn was lit, and the lads, after cautiously testing the depth of the water, indulged in a good bathe, gaining confidence as they swam, and finally dried themselves upon an exceedingly harsh towel formed of a piece of canvas, one of many hanging where they had been thrown over pieces of rock.

As they dressed they could see that it was getting lighter inside the arch, which gradually showed more plainly, and as the water grew lower during the time that they partook of the meal which formed their breakfast, the twilight had broadened, so that both became hopeful of seeing the tide sink beneath the crown of the arch so as to give them a glance at the sunlit surface of the sea.

"How long are you going to wait for the smuggler?" asked the middy, suddenly.

"Not long," was the reply. "It is not fair to you. But I should like to give him a little law. What do you say to waiting here till the tide has got to its lowest, and as soon as it turns we'll start?"

"Very well, I agree," said the midshipman, "for I don't think that we shall have long to wait. I was expecting it to go down so low that I should see the full daylight yesterday, but before I got the slightest peep it began to rise again."

"But it came lighter than this?" said Aleck.

"No; I don't think it was so light as this. I believe it is just about turning now."

The sailor proved to be right; and as soon as Aleck felt quite sure he turned to his companion and proposed that they should start.

"I don't know what my uncle will say," he said. "You'd better come home with me. He will be astonished when he sees that I have found you."

"Did he know that I was lost?"

"Of course. Your fellow officer came straight to our place to search it, thinking we knew where you were. Well, uncle will be very glad. Come along. I shall take the lanthorn with us to see our way up the zigzag. I think I could manage in the dark, as I came down and know something of the place, but it would be awkward for you."

"Oh, yes; let's have all the light we can," said the midshipman. "I'm quite ready. Shall we start?"

"Yes, come on," was the reply, and, holding the lanthorn well down, Aleck led the way along by the waterside till the rocks which had acted as stepping-stones were reached, and which were now quite bare.

These were passed in safety, but not without two or three slips; and then after a walk back towards the twilight, somewhere about equal to the distance they had come, Aleck struck off up a slope and in and out among the blocks that had fallen from the roof to where he easily found the lowest slope of the zigzag, which they prepared to mount, the light from the lanthorn showing the nicks cut in the stone at the side.

"It's much harder work climbing up than sliding down," said Aleck.

"Of course," replied the midshipman, who toiled on steadily in the rear; "but it's very glorious to have one's leg free, and to know that before long one will be up in the glorious light of day. I say, are you counting how many of these slopes we have come up?"

"No," said Aleck, "I lost count; but I think we must be half way up."

"Bravo! But, I say, these smugglers are no fools. Who'd ever expect to find such a place as this? It must have taken them years to make."

"They were making it or improving it for years," said Aleck; "but they found the crack already made—it was natural."

"Think so?"

"Yes; the rock split just like a flash of lightning. Mind how you come—the roof is lower down here. Let's see, this must be where I hit my head in coming down. No, it can't be, for that was somewhere about the middle of one of the slopes, I think, and this is the end, just where it turns back and forms another slope."

Aleck ceased speaking and raised the lanthorn so as to examine the rock above and around him more attentively.

"Nice work this for a fellow's uniform. What with the climbing and sleeping in it I shall be in rags. But why don't you go on?" said the midshipman.

"I—I don't quite know," said Aleck, hesitating. "It seems different here to what it was when I came down."

"But you said you came down in the dark?"

"I did, and I suppose that's why it seems different."

"Well, never mind. Go on. It hurts my feet standing so long resting in this nick."

Aleck was still busy with the lanthorn, and remained silent, making his companion more impatient still.

"I say, go on," he said. "Why do you stop?"

"Because it seems to me as if I had come the wrong way, taken a wrong turning that I did not know of—one, I suppose, that I passed in the dark."

"But this must be right," said the midshipman; "it goes up. Here are all the nicks for one's feet, and the part in the middle is all ground out as if things were dragged up. Go on, old chap; you must be right."

"So I think," said Aleck; "but I can't go on. It seems to me as if the place comes to an end here, and I can get no farther."

"That's a nice sort of a story. But you carried the light; have you taken a wrong turning?"

"I didn't know that there were any turnings."

"Have another good look, and make sure."

Aleck peered in all directions by the aid of the lanthorn—a very short task, seeing how they were shut in—and then carefully felt the stones.

"Well?" said the midshipman.

"I'm regularly puzzled," said Aleck. "Of course, it's very different coming in the other direction, and by candlelight instead of the darkness."

"Then you're regularly at fault."

"Quite."

"Try back, then. You light me and I'll lead."

They slid down to the bottom of the slope and stopped.

"I say," cried the midshipman; "you'll have to take me to your place and find me some clothes, for I shan't have a rag on if we're going to do much of this sort of thing."

"This must be right," said Aleck, without heeding the remark. "I can shut my eyes here and be sure of it by the feel."

"Then it's of no use to go down any farther?"

"Not a bit," said Aleck, firmly. "Look for yourself. Here are the foot nicks at the side, and the floor is all worn smooth. We must be right."

"Then forward once more. You must have missed something."

Aleck toiled up the slope again, reached the top, where the crack should have run in a fresh direction and at a different inclination, and carefully examined the place with his light, while his heart began to beat faster and faster from the excitement that was growing upon him rapidly. For as he ran his hands over the rock in front, which completely blocked his way, he noted that there were three great pieces—one which ran right into the angle, where the pathway should have made its turn; a second, which lay between it and the smooth wall at the bend; and another smaller piece, which lay over both, jammed tightly in between the two other stones and the roof, and carrying conviction to Aleck's mind as he now recalled the peculiar grating sounds he had heard soon after the smuggler left them the previous day.

He was brought out of his musings by his companion, who suddenly exclaimed:

"I say, look here; I'm not a puffin."

"Eh? No, of course not. What made you say that?"

"Because you seemed to think I was, keeping me perched up on a piece of rock like this. Now, then, are you going on?"

Aleck was silent, for he had not the heart to say that which was within.

"Are you going dumb? If you've lost your way say so, and let's begin again."

"It's worse than that," said Aleck.

"Worse? What do you mean?"

"Look here," said Aleck, holding the lanthorn up high with one hand, and pointing with the other.

"Well, I'm looking, and I can see nothing but stone—rough stone."

"Neither can I. We can go no farther."

"What! You don't mean to say that the roof has fallen in?"

"No; it's worse than that."

"Can't be," cried the middy.

"Yes, it is, for we could have dug the fallen stones away. Sailor, I'm obliged to say it—we're regularly trapped!"

"What! Who by? Oh, nonsense!"

"It's true enough, I'm afraid. The smuggler would not do as we did. We trusted him, but he would not trust us."

"You don't mean to say he has blocked us in?"

"I'm obliged to say so. I heard him forcing down the stones after he'd gone. Look for yourself. I can't move one."

"No," said the midshipman, quietly, as he reached past Aleck and tried to give the top one a shake. "He has been too clever for us. Think we can move these lumps? No; their own weight will keep them down. That's it, Aleck; the things here are too good to lose, and he has got us safe."

To Aleck's astonishment he had begun to whistle a dismal old air in a minor key after propping himself across the rough crack so that he could not slip.

"What's to be done?" said Aleck, at last.

"Done, eh?" was the reply. "Well, I'm afraid if I had been alone and found this out, I should have lain down, let myself slide to the bottom, and then set to and howled; but the old saying goes, 'Two's company, even if you're going to be hanged,' and you're pretty good company, so let's go back to the cave. We can breathe there. The heat here is awful. This shows that it doesn't do to be too cocksure of anything. Come on down."

"But we must have a thoroughly good try to move the stones," said Aleck, angrily.

"Not a bit of use. That brute has wedged them in and jumped upon them. Why, we may push and heave till we're black in the face and do no good. We're fixed up safe."

"And you're going to give up like that?"

"Not I," said the midshipman, calmly. "Show me what I can do, and if it's likely to be any good I'll work as long as you like; but it's of no use to make ourselves more miserable than we are. Come on down."

The young sailor spoke in so commanding a tone that Aleck yielded, and, following his comrade's example, he slid down slope after slope, and finally stood in the great open cavern, breathing in long deep breaths of the fresh soft air.

"Hah! That's better," said the midshipman. "I felt stifled up in that hole. Now I don't bear malice against anybody, but I think I should like to see that smuggling ruffian shut up here for a few days. Look here, Aleck; all he said was pretence—he never meant us to get out again."

"Oh, I don't know," said Aleck, passionately. "He might, or he might not. Now, then, what's to be done—try and find some tools, and then get to work to chip those stones to pieces?"

"No, it would only mean try and try in vain."

"Here, what has come to you?" cried Aleck. "You take it all as coolly as if it were of no consequence at all. I don't believe you can understand yet how bad it all is."

"Oh, yes, I can," said the midshipman, coolly; "but I've got no more miserables left in me. I used 'em all up when I was chained up by myself in the dark. I feel now quite jolly compared to what I was."

"Nonsense. You can't grasp what a terrible strait we're in."

"Oh, yes, I can. We're buried alive."

"Well, isn't that horrible?" said Aleck.

"Pretty tidy, but not half so bad as being buried dead. It would be all over then; but as we're buried alive perhaps we shall be able to unbury ourselves."

"You must be half mad," said Aleck, angrily, "or you'd never talk so lightly."

"Lightly? I don't talk lightly. I'm as serious as a judge."

"But what are we to do?"

"Wait a bit and let's think. We can live down here for ever so long; that is, as long as the rations last. Then we shall have to try some other way out."

"Yes; but what way?"

The midshipman pointed towards the dimly-seen submerged arch.

"Can you swim?" he said.

"Of course. Pretty well."

"And dive?"

"Yes."

"Then my notion is that we take it as coolly as we can till we think it's a suitable time. Then we'll strip, make a couple of bundles of our clothes, go in as near to that arch as we can, and then try to dive under and out to the daylight."

Aleck raised the lanthorn to bring its dim light full upon his companion's face, gazing at him hard as if in doubt of his sanity. For the words were spoken as calmly and coolly as if he had been proposing some ordinary jump into clear water at a bathing-place.

But he only saw that the speaker's countenance was perfectly unruffled, and his next words convinced him that he was speaking in all seriousness.

"Well, don't look so horrified," he said, half laughingly. "You haven't been bragging, have you? Don't say you can't swim?"

"Oh, I can swim easily enough," said Aleck, impatiently; "but suppose one rose too soon, right up amongst those rugged rocks, with the sea-wrack hanging down in long strips ready to strangle us?"

"I'm not going to suppose anything of the sort," said the midshipman. "Why should you suppose such horrors? I might just as well say: suppose a great shark should rush in open-mouthed to swallow me down and then grab you by the leg, throw you over on to his back, and carry you about till he felt hungry again?"

"But you don't see the danger?" cried Aleck.

"And don't want to see it. I daresay it is dangerous, but nearly everything is if you look at it in that way. Well, what now? Why do you look at me like that?"

"Because I don't understand you," said Aleck. "Yesterday you seemed as weak as a girl, while now you are proposing impossible things, and seem to be trying to brag as if to make me feel that you are not so weak as you were then."

"Perhaps so," said the middy, laughing good-humouredly. "I was as weak as a girl yesterday, but I don't feel so now; and though you are partly right, and I don't want you to think me such a molly, I really am ready to make a dash at it if you will."

"I'll do anything that I think is possible," said Aleck, gravely, "but I don't want to be rash."

"Then you think it would be rash to try and dive out under that archway?"

"Horribly," said Aleck, with a shudder; and at that moment the candle, which, unnoticed through the dull horn, had burned down and begun flickering in the socket, suddenly flashed up brightly, flickered for a moment or two, and went out.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

"Ugh!" ejaculated the midshipman. "I don't feel half so brave now, and I don't believe I dare go in here in the darkness, set aside make a dive. Where's the tinder-box? For goodness' sake, strike a light and let's have another candle. Oh, you oughtn't to have let that out!"

"Come along," replied Aleck. "I think I can find the way to the place again. Mind how you come; there are so many stones. I say, why is it that one feels so shrinking in the dark and frightened of all sorts of things that we never dream of in the light?"

"I don't know, and don't want to talk about it now. Let's have a light first. I say, we must do something before the candles are all burnt out."

"Mind!" cried Aleck, for his companion caught his foot against one of the pieces of projecting rock against which he had been warned, and but for the throwing out of a friendly hand he would have gone head first into the water.

"Ugh!" he panted, as he clung, trembling now violently. "I wonder how deep the water is just there! How horrible! I say, don't let go of my hand. What are you doing?"

"I'm feeling for the lanthorn."

"What!" cried the midshipman, aghast. "Don't say you've lost that?"

"I wasn't going to," said Aleck, rather gruffly, as he thought that his companion was about the strangest compound of bravery and cowardice he had ever met. "But didn't you hear it go down crash?"

"No, I heard nothing. Here, what's this against my foot?"

Aleck stooped down and found that it was the missing lanthorn.

"It's lucky it did not roll into the water. Now, then, all right. Keep hold of hands, and let's feel our way to where I left the tinder-box. Hold up; don't stumble again."

"I can't help it," said the middy, with his teeth chattering. "It feels as if all the strength had gone out of my legs. Here, Aleck, it's of no use to be a sham; hold on tightly by my hand and help me along. I'm afraid that was all brag about making the dive. I suppose I must be a horrible coward, after all."

"I'm afraid I am too," said Aleck bitterly, as he held the other's hand tightly and tried to progress cautiously in the dark. "I feel horrible, and as if the next step I take will send us both into the water."

"Ugh! Don't say that," whispered the middy, huskily. "I remember what that fellow said about the seals; but it's my belief that a dark piece of water like this must swarm with all kinds of terrible creatures."

"And yet you wanted to dive into it for a swim?"

"Yes, when the candle was alight."

"I didn't feel anything attack us when we bathed," said Aleck, quietly.

"Oh, don't talk about it," said the middy, shuddering. "I bathed then, but I don't feel as if, feeling what I do, I could risk another plunge in."

Aleck felt no disposition whatever to talk about the venture his companion in misfortune had proposed, for he was intent upon getting to the spot where the light-producing implement had been bestowed, and twice over he nearly lost his calmness, for the horrible idea attacked him that he had wandered quite away from the spot in the darkness.

It was an ugly thought, bringing up others of a strangely confusing nature, but at last, just when he was ready to confess to this fresh trouble, he came upon candle and tinder-box, over which his trembling fingers played for some minutes before the welcome spark appeared in the tinder and suffered itself to be blown up into a glow instead of dying out.

Hot and tired, the two lads made for the resting-place, and were thankful to cast themselves down, to lie in silence for close upon an hour before either of them ventured to advert to their position; but at last the midshipman declared that he knew it from the first, and that they were a pair of idiots to trust the word of a smuggler.

"I don't see it," said Aleck, who felt ready to give the man credit for having met with some mishap.

"Well, I do. It was a deeply-laid scheme to trap us—shut us up here and leave us to die while he escaped."

"Nonsense," cried Aleck. "Why, it would be a horrible murder!"

"Yes; horrible—diabolical—shocking."

"I don't believe Eben Megg would be such a wretch," said Aleck, stoutly.

"What, not a smuggler? They're the greatest villains under the sun."

"Are they?" said Aleck, drily.

"Yes, I know that," cried the middy angrily; "but I'll let the brute see. I'll have him hung at the yard-arm for this. He shall find out he made a mistake."

"When we get out," said Aleck, smiling in spite of their trouble, for his companion's peppery way of expressing himself was amusing.

"Yes, when we get out, of course. You don't suppose I'm going to settle myself quietly down here, do you?"

"Of course not," said Aleck; and then an idea occurred to him which made him check his companion just as he was about to burst into a tirade about what he would do.

"I say," cried Aleck, "it must be easy to get out of this if we wait till the time when the boats can come in."

"But do they ever come in?"

"Of course. How else could the smugglers have landed all this stuff?"

"It must be at a spring tide then," said the middy.

"To be sure. When's the next?"

"I don't know," said the middy. "You do, of course?"

"Not I. You're a pretty sort of a sailor not to know when the next spring tide is."

"And you're a pretty sort of a fellow who lives by the shore and don't know. You seem to know nothing."

"Bother the spring tides," said Aleck, testily. "I know there are spring tides, and that sometimes you can walk dry-shod half way down our gully; but I can't tell the times. Tom Bodger would know."

"What, that wooden-legged sailor?"

"Yes."

"Then you'd better go and fetch him here."

"I wish I could," said Aleck, sadly. "What's the good of wishing? Here, I'm hungry. Let's have something to eat."

"No, we mustn't do that," said Aleck. "We had better eat as little as we can so as to make the food last as long as possible."

"No, we hadn't," replied the middy, roughly. "We may just as well eat while we can. There's plenty to keep us alive; but if we can't get out we shan't be able to live all the same."

"Why?"

The middy was silent for a few moments before he could master himself sufficiently, the horror that he as a sailor foresaw not having been grasped by his shore-going companion.

"You haven't been to sea?" he said, at last, in quite a different tone.

"Only about in my boat."

"In sight of land, when you could put ashore at any time."

"Yes; but what do you mean?"

"I mean, the first thing a sailor, thinks about is his supply of fresh water."

"To be sure," said Aleck. "I always take a little keg from our spring when I go for a long day's fishing."

"Pity you didn't bring it here," said the middy, dismally.

"Eh? What do you mean?"

"I want to know what we're going to do for water as soon as those bottles are empty?"

It was Aleck's turn to be silent now, and in turn he was some moments before he spoke.

"I never thought of that," he said, and he felt as if a cold chill was running through him, to give place to a hot feverish sensation, accompanied by thirst.

Then he recovered his boyish elasticity.

"Here," he cried, "never say die! I'm not going to give up like this. Look here; we've got a spring at home where the water trickles out of a crack in the rock and flows down into a great stone tank like a well. It only comes in drops, but it's always dropping, and so we have enough for our wants."

"Pity you didn't bring your tank here," said the middy. "What's the good of telling me that?"

"Because the cliff all along here for miles has places where the water trickles out, and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if we were to find that the smugglers have something in the shape of a tank here in this place. They must have wanted water here, and they would be sure to have saved any that trickled in."

"Then you'd better find it," said the middy.

"Come along, then; let's search. This place is very big."

"You can if you like. I've had such a dose this morning, just when I felt I was going to get out, that I'm going to lie down and try to forget it."

"What! Go to sleep?" cried Aleck.

"Yes."

"That you're not. You're going to help me search the cavern."

"I'm not."

"You are," cried Aleck, firmly.

"Look here; do you want to make it a fight?"

"No, and you don't either. Come on; we'll light another candle and stick it upon a piece of stone or slate. Then we'll have a good hunt."

"Oh, very well," said the middy, rising. "Come on, then; but I'm sure we're only going to tire ourselves for nothing."

"Never mind, it will keep us from thinking."

There was no difficulty in picking up a flat piece of slate, and then a fresh candle was cut free from the bunch, its end melted, and stuck on to the stone, and then the lads looked at one another.

"Look here," said the middy; "I wish I wasn't such an awful beast."

Aleck laughed.

"You don't look one," he said.

"No, but I feel one. Fellows in trouble ought to be like brothers, and I keep on having fits of the grumps. Here, I mean to work with you now."

"I know you do," said Aleck, frankly, "but it's enough to make anyone feel savage."

"Now, then, where are we going to look for water?"

"Right up at the narrowest end of the cave."

"Why?"

"Because what there is always seems to make for the sea."

"That's right," said the middy; and, taking the lead, he began to pick his way along by the side of the canal-like pool, whose clear waters reflected the lights as if it were a river.

"Water's higher now," said Aleck.

"Yes, and it looks good enough to drink; but it's salter than the sea, I suppose. I say!"

"Well?" said Aleck.

"This place gets narrower. It seems to me that if the roof fell in it would make another of those caves you have all along this coast. I shouldn't wonder if in time all the top of this comes in and opens the mouth so that the waves can rush in and wash it bigger and bigger."

"Very likely," said Aleck. "Look here!"

He held down the candle to show that they had come to the end of the deep water, which was continued farther in by a series of pools, which were probably only joined into one lane of water at very high tides.

The middy said something of the kind, and then pointed out, as they progressed slowly, that the pools grew smaller and smaller till they came to an end, where the cavern had grown very narrow and seemed to be closing in, and where a huge mass of stone blocked the way.

"How are we to go now? Climb right over that big lump? I don't believe there's room to crawl between that and the roof."

"I say," replied Aleck, excitedly, "it's wet right up."

"All the worse for our clothes," was the reply; "but is it any use to go any farther?"

Aleck's answer took the shape of action, for he sank upon his knees, set the piece of slate which formed his candlestick upon the rock floor, and going down upon his chest reached out and scooped up some of the water of the pool in his palm and raised it to his lips.

"Don't swallow it," said his companion; "it will only make you horribly thirsty."

"No," cried Aleck, exultantly, "it's all right—fresh and sweet. Look here; you can see how there's water trickling very slowly down."

"So there is," cried the middy. "You were all right about that."

"Yes," said Aleck, "and I believe we shall find ships' stores enough amongst those barrels to last us for months."

"Let's see!" said the middy. "Oh! this is getting too jolly," he added. "Let's open some of the boxes too. Why, the next thing will be that I shall be finding a new uniform all ready for putting on, but—oh, dear!" he added, dolefully.

"Well, of all the fellows," cried Aleck. "Here have we just found out that things aren't half so bad as they seemed, and now you're breaking out again. What is the matter now?"

"I was thinking about the uniform, been lying here perhaps for months; it's sure to be too damp to put on."

"Bah!" cried Aleck. "Dip it right into the big pool and make it salt. It won't hurt you then."

"Right," shouted the middy. "Now, then, what next? I believe if we keep on we shall find a fresh way out."

"Like enough. Let's try."

They tried, but tried in vain. The middy held the light, and Aleck climbed up the wet face of the huge mass which blocked the way, and then began to crawl on beneath the roof.

"How do you get on?"

"Splendid. It goes upward, and I could almost stand."

"How are you getting on?" said the middy, after listening to the scrambling noise made by the climber.

"Middling. Just room to crawl now." Five minutes later the middy shouted again:

"Look here; hadn't I better come up now?"

"Yes, if you like."

"Is there plenty of room?"

"No."

"Then what's the use of my coming?"

"Only to keep me company. Better still, come and give a pull at my heels."

"Pull at your heels?"

"Yes, it's like a chimney laid on its side, and I'm quite stuck fast."

"Oh!" cried the middy; and then, "All right, I'm coming."

"No, no, don't!" came to him in smothered tones, as he began to climb; "I've got room again. Coming back."

There was a good deal of shuffling and scraping, and then Aleck's feet came into the light over the top of the block. The next minute he was on his feet beside his companion, hot, panting, and with the front of his clothes wet.

"There's a tiny stream comes trickling in there," he said, brushing himself down softly; "but there isn't room for a rat to get any further than I did. My word, it was tight! I felt as if the water had made me swell out, and it didn't seem as if I was going to get back."

"Phew!" whistled the middy. "We should have been worse off then. I say, Aleck, you'd have had to starve for a few days to get thin, and then I could have pulled you out. Here, I say, though, old fellow, I'm not going on the grump any more; things might be worse, eh?"

"Ever so much," said Aleck, cheerfully. "Let's have a good drink now, and then go and examine some of those barrels. If one of them turns out salt beef or pork we'll go back and finish our stores, for we shall be all right for provisions."

"Without counting the fish I mean to catch. I'm sure there'll be some come in with the tide."

"Very foolish of them if they do," said Aleck, wiping his mouth after lying down to take a long deep draught, in which action he was imitated by his companion. "Now, then, I want to be satisfied about flour and meat."

Within half an hour he was satisfied, for a little examination proved to the prisoners that some unfortunate vessel had gone to pieces outside and its stores had been run in by the smugglers.

"Yes," said the middy, as they returned to their resting-place, to begin making a hearty meal, "things do look a bit more rosy, but you mustn't be too chuff over it. I'll bet sixpence, if you like, that the tackle in those tubs is as salt as brine."

"I'm afraid so," said Aleck, "and all the outside of the flour mouldy."

"Very likely," said the middy. "But never mind; if the outside's bad we'll eat the in."

"Look at the crack over yonder now!" cried Aleck, after a time, during which the only sounds heard were those of two people eating.

"What for?"

"It look's so light; just as if the sun was shining upon it outside. I must try if I can't dive down and swim out."

"With a rope round your waist," said the middy, eagerly, "so that if you stuck—"

"You could pull me back," said Aleck.

"And if you got through safely—" cried the middy.

"You would tie the other end round you," said Aleck, "ready for me to haul and help you out in turn."

"Oh! What's the good of a fellow being grumpy?" cried the middy. "Why, we're enjoying ourselves. This is one big adventurous game. I'm getting to be glad those women took me prisoner. I don't believe there ever were two who dropped in for such an adventure as this. But, I say, I don't think we'll try the diving trick to-day. We ought to be rested and fresh."

"Yes," replied Aleck, "and we ought to have another good try up the zigzag first."

"Yes, it might be as well. I say, just ring for the people to clear away. I want to have a nap now. What time is it?"

"Oh, I don't know. Why?"

"Because I want to know what to call it. You see, I don't know whether I'm going to have a siesta or a genuine snooze."

"Have both," said Aleck, laughing, "and I'll do the same."

"And it doesn't matter, does it, for night and day seem to be about the same? Put out that candle, and mind where the tinder-box is."

"Here, you see where it lies," was the reply, and then there was silence, both lying thinking deeply before once more dropping fast asleep, many hours having been taken up by the hard toil and suffering they had gone through.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

The next morning, as it seemed from the beautiful limpid appearance of dawn that rose from the surface of the waters, to become diffused in the soft gloom overhead, the lads lit a candle and set off manfully to try as to the possibility of making their way out through the zigzag passage, Aleck trying first and dragging and pushing at the stones which blocked his way, till, utterly exhausted and dripping with perspiration, he made way for his comrade to have a try.

The latter toiled hard in turn, and did not desist till he found that his fingers were bleeding and growing painful.

"It's of no good," he said, gloomily; "that scoundrel has done his work too well. Let's get down to where we can breathe. I say, though," he added, cheerily, "I've learned one thing."

"What?" asked Aleck.

"That I was never cut out for a chimney-sweep. This is bad enough; I don't know what it would be if there was the soot."

They slid down, and as soon as they were back in the comparatively cheerful cavern, where they could breathe freely, Aleck proposed that they should look out amongst the sails and ships' stores for a suitable rope for their purpose.

There was coil upon coil of rope, but for the most part they were too thick, and it seemed as if they would be reduced to venturing upon their dive untrammelled, when, raising the lanthorn for another glance round, Aleck caught sight of the very piece he required, hanging from a wooden peg driven in between two blocks of stone.

"Looks old and worn," said the middy, passing the frayed line through his fingers. "Let's try it."

The means adopted was to tie one end round a projection of the rocky side, run the line out to its full length, and then drag and jerk it together with all their might.

Satisfied with the effects of this test, the rope was untied, the other end made fast, and the dragging and snatching repeated without the tough fibres of the hemp yielding in the least.

"Looks very old," said the middy, "but wear has only made it soft. If it stands all that tugging with the weight of both of us on the end it will bear one of us being dragged through the water, where one isn't so heavy. Now, then, are we going to try this way?"

"Certainly," said Aleck.

"Very well; who's to go first?"

"I will," said Aleck.

"I don't know about that," replied the middy. "You're only a shore-going fellow, while I'm a sailor. I think I ought to go first."

"It doesn't much matter who goes first, but I spoke first and I'll go."

"Look here," cried the middy; "if I give way and let you have first try, will you play fair?"

"Of course. But what do you mean?"

"You won't brag and chuck it in my face afterwards that you got us out of the hole?"

"Do you think I should be such a donkey?" cried Aleck. "Why, look here, I'm going to try and chance it, but I don't believe I shall get through. Never mind about who's to be first. Let's do all we can to make sure of escaping. Now, then, shall we try now, or wait till the water's at its lowest? It's going down now."

"If we wait till the tide's at its lowest it will be slack water, and we shall get no help. It's running out now, and we can see the shape of the arch."

"Yes, and how rugged and weed-hung it is. I say, I don't like the look of it. You'd better go first."

"Very well," said the middy, promptly, and he began taking off his jacket.

"Hold hard," cried Aleck, hurriedly stripping off his own. "Come along."

He led the way to the edge of the water where, though not the nearest, the best leap off seemed to present itself, and then stood perfectly still, gazing down into the softly illuminated water, quivering and wreathing as it ran softly out, and looking dim and blurred through being kept so much in motion by the retiring waves.

"Then you still mean to go?" said the middy.

"Of course. But what shall I do—strip, or try in my clothes?"

"Strip, decidedly," cried the middy.

"I shall get scratched and scraped going under the rocks."

"You'll get caught by them and hung up if you keep your clothes on. Have 'em all off, man; you'll slip through the water then like a seal."

"Yes," said Aleck, calmly, "I suppose it will be best."

It did not take him long to prepare, and as soon as he was ready his companion made the rope fast just round beneath the arm-pits with a knot that would neither slip nor tighten.

"There!" said the middy, as he finished his preparations by laying out the rope in rings and curves of various shapes, such as would easily run out. "I say, you are perfectly black when I look at you from behind, but in front you seem like a white image on a black ground. Now, then, what do you mean to do?"

"Dive in from here and try to keep right down and swim as deeply as I can for the mouth."

"Try to swallow the job at one mouthful?"

"Yes."

"Won't do," said the middy, authoritatively. "You couldn't do it. You must slip in gently here and swim to that rock that's just out of the water."

"What! That one that seems just to the left of the arch?"

"That's the one. Get out on it, wait a few moments, and then take a long, deep breath and dive."

Aleck pondered for a few moments.

"Yes," he said, "I think you're right. I should have had to swim so far first if I started from here."

"To be sure you would. The less diving you have the better."

"I see," said Aleck. "Now, then, let the rope run out easily through your fingers till I give it a sharp jerk. That means pull me back as fast as you can."

"Yes, because you can go no further."

"If I pull twice it means I am safe through, and then—"

"I shall tie my end of the rope round my chest and come too. You need not pull, only just draw in the line, unless it stops, because that would mean I had got into difficulties. Do we both understand? I do."

"So do I," said Aleck, "so let's get it over. If I wait much longer I shall be afraid to go."

"Don't believe you," said the middy, bluntly. "Now, then—ready?"

"Yes."

The word was no sooner uttered than Aleck slipped down into the water and began to swim, with the rope being carefully paid out by his comrade, and in a minute he was fairly started. He was at first invisible, but very soon began to look like a black object making its way over a surface that grew transparent.

Then all at once the rope ceased to run.

"What is it?" cried the middy, anxiously.

"Got to the rock."

"Is the water deep?"

"Very."

"Well, get up, ready for your dive."

"It's all seaweed, and horribly slippery."

"Never mind; up with you."

A peculiar splashing sound arose, and the middy could just make out the dim shape of his companion climbing, or rather dragging, himself on to the slimy rock, whose top was about a foot above the surface of the water.

"Stop a minute or two first," said the middy, "so as to take—"

He was going to say "breath," but before the word could be uttered Aleck, who had drawn himself up to stand erect, felt his feet gliding from under him, and it was only by a violent effort that he escaped falling heavily upon the weed-covered rock. As it was he came down with a tremendous splash into the water, going head first in a sharp incline down and down, while, obeying his first impulse, he struck out sharply.

The middy was about to obey his first impulse too, and that was not to pay out, but begin to haul his comrade back. His hands tightened round the line, but as he awoke to the fact that it was gliding through his hands in obedience to the regular pulsation of the movements of a swimmer, he felt that all must be right, and waited while, foot by foot, the rope glided on and the transparent water grew more and more agitated and strange to see.

Once he fancied he could clearly make out Aleck's steadily swimming figure, but directly after he knew it was a great, waving, flag-like mass of weed fronds, and he uttered an impatient gasp and turned cold.

"He couldn't have got his breath for the dive," he said to himself, "and the current must be taking him helplessly away. Half the line must have run out, and perhaps he's insensible. No; that means swimming, for it goes in jerks, and—he has stopped. He must be through. Hooray! Well done, old—oh, that's the signal to pull him back!"

It was surely enough, and the middy began at once to haul in, and then the cold feeling became a chill of horror, for he had drawn the rope quite tight at the second haul, and it was perfectly evident that the swimmer had signalled because in some way he was caught fast.

What to do?

The middy was energetic enough, and in those perilous moments, full of horror for his companion's sake, he hauled till he dared pull no more for fear that the rope should part, and, obeying now a sudden thought, he relaxed the strain, and the rope seemed to be snatched back towards Aleck.

"That can't be a signal," he said to himself, in despair; but he began to haul again, recovered the line lost, and to his intense delight he found that the swimmer was once more free, and that he was drawing him rapidly back to where he stood. The lad's action was as rapid now as he could pass hand over hand, and in a very short space of time he had the poor fellow close up to the rock edge, and then, taking hold of the rope where it passed round Aleck's chest, he dragged him out, half insensible, upon the rocks.

Another half minute or so might have been fatal, but Aleck had some little energy left, and, after a strangling fit of coughing, he was able to sit up.

"Take—the rope off!" he panted.

This was done, and in a few minutes he was breathing freely and able to talk.

"I didn't get a fair start," he said, hoarsely. "I slipped, and went in before I was ready; but I got on all right for a bit till I seemed to be sucked in between two pieces of rock, and felt myself going into black darkness. Then I signalled to you."

"I hauled directly."

"Yes, and it seemed to drag me crosswise so that I couldn't pass through between the two rocks again. How did you manage then?"

"I did nothing, only let go so as to make a fresh start."

"Did you?" said Aleck, quietly. "Ah, I didn't know anything about that. I only knew that it was very horrible, and I thought it was all over. It was very near, wasn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know," said the middy, coolly. "You say that you didn't have a fair start?"

"No; it was that fall. But it's queer work. You can't make out where you are going, and the current grinds your head up against the weedy rock."

"But you got nearly through, didn't you?"

"I suppose so, but I don't know. It was all one horrible confusion."

"Yes; but another few yards, I expect, and you would have been safe, and could have pulled me through, or helped me as I swam."

"Perhaps," said Aleck, rather slowly, for he felt confused still. "But what are you doing?"

"Peeling off my clothes."

"What for?" said Aleck, speaking now with more animation.

"To do my turn, and see how I get on."

"No, no, no!" cried Aleck, excitedly. "You mustn't try. It's too horrible."

"Horrible? Nonsense. It's only a swim in the dark. I like diving."

"I tell you it can't be done, sailor," cried Aleck, angrily. "The risk is too great. I should have been drowned if you had not hauled me out."

"Well, and if I'm going to be drowned you'll haul me out. You're strong enough now, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes; but you mustn't risk it."

"You wait till I get these things off, my lad, and I'll show you. Why, you'd have done it splendidly if you had dived off the rock instead of going in flip-flap like a sole out of a basket. I'll show you how to do it."

"You'd better take my word for it that it can't be done. Let's wait till the tide's low enough, and then swim out in daylight."

"You wait till I get out of my uniform," said the middy, stubbornly, "I'll show you, my fine fellow. I've practised diving a good deal. Some day, if we get to the right place in the ocean, I mean to have a go down with the sponge divers, and if I'm ever in the South Seas I mean to try diving for pearl shell."

"Well," said Aleck, rather sadly, "I've warned you, and I suppose it is of no use for me to say any more?"

"Not a bit," said the middy, dragging off his second stocking. "You make fast the dry end of the line round my noble chest. Not too tight, mind, and a knot that won't slip."

The young sailor possessed the greater will power now, for Aleck was yet half stunned by what he had gone through. He obeyed every order he received, and carefully knotted on the rope.

"Now, are you ready?" said the middy. "Feel up to hauling me back if I don't get through?"

"Yes."

"And, mind, when I am through I shall not drag you. No, no, don't untie your end of the rope; you'll want that. Now, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Very well, then, as soon as I'm through I shall get on a dry rock and signal to you to come. Then you'll slip in and swim to the rock again, and take a header off it. Don't bungle it this time, and when you feel my touch at the rope, mind it's not meant to haul, only to guide you to where I'm sitting."

"But what about our clothes?" said Aleck, drearily.

"Bother our clothes! We want to save our skins and not our clothes. Now, then, ready?"

"Yes, if you will go."

"Will go? Look here!"

The lad sprang, feet foremost, into the water, and rose directly from out of the depths, to strike out, and as Aleck tried hard to follow his movements, he heard him reach the weedy rock, drag himself out, and the rope was gently drawn more and more through his hands as the middy succeeded in getting erect upon the stone, close to its edge.

"See that?" he shouted.

"Yes."

"That's what you ought to have done. Now, then, slacken the line well. I'm taking a long, deep breath, ready for you know what. That's it. Ready—ho!"

The middy sprang into the air, and very dimly Aleck saw that he curved himself over, and the next moment his hands divided the water, and he plunged in for his dive almost without a splash, while as the rope ran swiftly through his hands Aleck felt a flash of energy run through him, and stood ready for any emergency that might befall.

Then a feeling akin to jealousy came over him, as he found the rope drawn out vigorously, and it seemed to him that the midshipman was a far better swimmer and diver than he.

"But he hasn't come to the difficult part yet," he thought, the next moment. "He'll find that he can't keep down deep, and that while he is trying to beat the tangling wrack to right and left something like a current sucks him upward and forces him against the rocks that form the arch."

Then, full of eagerness so as to be ready to help the diver when his time of extremity came, Aleck held the rope attached to him with both hands gingerly enough to let it pass easily through as wanted, but at the same time, in the most guarded way, ready to let it fall against his right shoulder when, as he intended, he turned sharply to walk swiftly back into the interior of the cavern and draw his companion back to the water's edge.

Then a curious thought struck him, consequent upon the rope beginning to run out faster and faster.

"Why, he's getting through," he cried, mentally, with a suggestion of disappointment in his brain at his comrade's better success. "He's getting through, and he'll run out all the line quickly now and draw me in.

"Well, so much the better," he thought. "If he can pass through I can, and perhaps in a few moments we shall both have escaped.

"Wish I'd done something about our clothes," he muttered then. "We shall want them, of course. But, I know; we can hide somewhere about the mouth of the cave till it gets dark, and then I can take him up to the Den, and—"

Aleck did not finish the plan he was thinking out, for the rope had seemed to him to be running out to a far greater extent than he had taken it himself; but in reality it had gone away at about the same rate, so that something like the same quantity had been drawn through his hands when it suddenly ceased to glide, and directly after a spasm shot through the lad's brain, for it had stopped, and directly after the signal was given sharply, sending a thrill through him.

He responded directly by clutching the rope tightly and beginning to run.

It was only a beginning, for he was brought up short on the instant, and so sharply that he was jerked backwards.

"Just the same as I must have been," he said to himself, excitedly, after bearing hard against the rope and finding it quite fast. "It's like conger fishing," he thought, "and I must give him line."

Slackening out at once, he waited for a moment or two, and then tightened again, when to his great delight he found that he was no longer dragging at something set hard, but at a yielding body, which he drew easily to the edge of the pool by means of his long coil, before dropping it and running to seize and repeat the middy's performance upon himself.

"He's quite insensible," he gasped, as he drew the dripping lad right out on to the driest part.

"That I'm not," panted the middy; "but another minute would have done it."

He remained silent then, panting hard and struggling to recover his breath, while Aleck untied the line and set his chest at liberty to act as it should.

Then for some minutes nothing was said, the only sound heard being the middy's hoarse breathing as he laboured hard to recover his regular inspirations.

At last he spoke in an unpleasantly harsh, ill-humoured way.

"Well, aren't you going to have another try? It's lovely. Only wants plenty of perseverance."

"Not I," replied Aleck. "You don't seem to have got on so very well."

"Got on as well as you did," snarled the middy. "Ugh! It was horrid. Just as if, when I felt that I could hold my breath no longer, I was suddenly seized and sucked into a great sink-hole, only the water was running up instead of down."

"Yes, that's just how I felt," said Aleck.

"You couldn't have felt so bad as I did," said the lad, irritably and speaking in the most inconsistent way. "I got my head rasped, too, against the stones overhead, and it's bleeding fast. Look at it, will you?"

Aleck examined the place, after opening the door of the lanthorn.

"It isn't bleeding," he said.

"Don't talk nonsense," cried the middy, irritably. "It smarts horribly, and I can feel the blood trickling down the back of my neck."

"That's water out of your hair."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, certain. I can't even see a mark on your head."

"Well, there ought to be," grumbled the lad. "Aren't you going to have another try?"

"No. Are you?"

"Not if I know it," replied the middy. "Once is quite enough for a trip of that kind."

"I don't think it's possible to get out by swimming."

"Well, it doesn't seem like it; but the smugglers get in."

"Yes, at certain times."

"Then this is an uncertain time, I suppose!" said the middy, beginning to dress.

"Hadn't we better get round and have a good rub with a bit of sail?" asked Aleck.

"No; we can't carry our clothes without getting them wet, and if we don't take them it means coming all the way round here again. Let's dress as we are; the salt water will soon dry."

"Very well," said Aleck, and he followed his companion's example with much satisfaction to his feelings, listening the while to the middy's plaints and grumblings, for he had been under water long enough to make him feel something like resuscitated people, exceedingly discontented and ill-humoured.

Every now and then he burst out with some disagreeable remark. One minute it was against his shirt for sticking to his wet back; another time it was at Aleck for getting on so fast with his dressing consequent upon his being drier; and then he began to abuse Eben Megg.

"A beast; that's what he is. It's just as bad as murdering us with a knife or chopper, that it is."

They were dressed at something like the same time, Aleck having achieved his task quietly, the middy with a sort of accompaniment of grumbles and unpleasant remarks.

"There," he said, at last; "that seems to have done me a lot of good. There's nothing like a good growl."

"Got rid of a lot of ill temper, eh?" said Aleck, smiling to himself.

"Yes, I suppose that's it. But, I say, we're not going to try that way out again! I say it's perfectly impossible."

"So do I," said Aleck.

"We should both have been drowned if it hadn't been for the rope."

"That we should, for a certainty," replied Aleck. "Well, there's nothing to be done but to wait patiently for the coming of that low tide when a boat could come in, as Eben Megg said, and as it's plain it does, or else all these stores couldn't have been brought in."

"And when it does come?" said the middy.

"We shall swim or wade out, of course," said Aleck.

"No, we shan't," grumbled the middy. "You see if it doesn't come in the night, when we're asleep."

"We must be too much on the look-out for that," said Aleck.

"It will not come all at once, but by degrees—lower and lower tides, till we get the one we want; and till then we shall have to be patient."

"Hark at him!" said the midshipman. "Who's to be patient at a time like this? Well, I'm beginning to feel warm and dry again; what do you say to getting back and having dinner, or whatever you like to call it? Oh, dear! Eating and drinking's bad enough on ship board, but it's all feasts and banquets compared to this."

"We must try to improve it," said Aleck. "I don't see why we shouldn't be able to catch fish."

"What? You don't suppose fish would be such scaly idiots as to come into a hole like this?"

"Perhaps not, but I believe they'd be shelly idiots enough. I shouldn't be a bit surprised, if we had a lobster or crab pot thrown out here, if we caught some fine ones."

"Set one, then," said the midshipman, sourly. "Perhaps there is one."

"Not likely," replied Aleck. "Never mind, let's make the best of what we've got and be thankful."

"No, that I won't," cried his companion. "I'll make the best of what we've got as much as you like, but I must draw the line somewhere—I won't be thankful."

"I will," said Aleck, good-temperedly; "thankful enough for both."

"Come on," said the midshipman, gruffly.

"Wait a moment till I've coiled up the line loosely. We may want it, and it must be hung up to dry."

This was done, and then after noting that the water was growing deeper in the direction of the sea entrance, the pair made their way right round by the head, stopped at the spring to have a hearty drink, and then pressed on, lanthorn in hand, to their resting-place, where, thoroughly upset by his adventure, the midshipman grumbled at everything till Aleck burst into a hearty laugh.