Out of one pestilent cavern, wherein I caught glimpse of an altar faced with an arabesque of cemented bones, something like a dusky ape, that clung with both hands to a staff for support, came mouthing and gesticulating at us. “Bread, bread!” it mumbled, working its black jaws; and it made an aimless pick at Carinne’s skirt. “There is for thee, then!” thundered Gusman; and he flapped his torch into the thing’s face. The animal vented a hideous cry and shuffled back into its hole, shedding sparks on its way as if it smouldered like an old rag. “Oh, _mon ami_!” whispered Carinne, in a febrile voice--“better the den by the skulls than this!” The deadman gave an acrid grin. “_À la bonne heure_,” said he. “Doubtless hunger pinches. Come back, then; and I will open my wallet and thou shalt thy purse.” * * * * * * * Early in the afternoon--so far as in that rayless desolation one could judge it to be--there broke upon our eyes the flutter of an advancing light, upon our ears the quick secret patter of hurrying steps. These ran up to the very opening of our lair and stopped. “_Hide!_” said the deadman’s voice, “I hear them call me to the search! Hide!” and, without another word, he retreated as he had come. Carinne uttered a little shuddering “Oh!” She took my head between her hands and kissed my lips, the admirable child. Then we emerged from our den (the ghostliest glimmer reached us from some distant corner, where, no doubt, Gusman had left a light burning), and stole swiftly to the mound-foot. I felt about for the infant’s skull (the position of which I had intensely remarked), and in a moment found it and laid bare the aperture. “Dive, little rabbit,” said I. “I am within, Jean-Louis.” I followed, feet first, and with my toes just touching bottom, reached out and pulled the trap upon us. Then, with a feeling as if I were wrenching off a blouse over my shoulders, I let myself back into the hole--upon a carpet of muffling dust--and _ma bonne amie_ caught at me, and we stood to hear our own hearts beating. Like the thick throb of a clock in an under-room--thus, I swear, our pulses sounded to us in that black and horrible stillness. The box had, it appeared, been very compactly built in at the first--and before the superincumbent litter of rubbish had been discharged over and around it--with the strongest bones, for that these were calculated to endure, without shifting, the onset of one hurriedly concealing himself; yet this necessary precaution went near to stultifying itself by so helping to exclude the air as to make breathing a labour to one confined within. Fortunately, however, no long strain upon our endurance was demanded of us. Now the hunters came upon us so silently, that there, in our ghastly prison, a spray of light, scattered through the chinks of the trap, was our first intimation of their presence. Then, as we maddened to see the glint withdrawn, a low voice came to our ears. “Stop, then! What is this?”