"Yes," answered Kirby grimly, "and you are the blind man." "I should like to know what you have done this for," said Dean, more seriously. "I can't answer your question, but no harm will come to you if you keep quiet. You are going to take a walk with us." "And you don't want me to know where you are taking me." "You've hit it right the first time, youngster," said Dan. "I suppose it's no use to resist," said Dean firmly, "but I must say that you have no right to take away my freedom." "You can say it if you want to, but it won't make any difference." "What are you going to do with me?" "You'll know in time." Dan and Kirby ranged themselves one on each side of Dean, and he was walked off between them. He asked one or two questions, but was admonished to keep silence. So they walked for twenty minutes, or perhaps half an hour, when Dan left his side, and Dean was compelled to halt in the custody of Kirby. "It's all ready!" said Dan, reappearing. Again he took Dean by the arm, and they walked forward perhaps a dozen paces. Then Kirby said, "Here are some steps." Dean found himself descending a flight of steps—ten in number, for he took the trouble to count them. He was getting more and more mystified, and would have given a good deal to remove the handkerchief that bandaged his eyes, but it was impossible to do it even surreptitiously, for both arms were pinioned by his guides. At the end of the flight of steps they came again to level ground, and walked forward perhaps a hundred feet. Dean suspected from the earthy odor that they were under the ground. He soon learned that his supposition was correct, for his guides halted, and loosened their hold upon his arms. "You can remove the handkerchief now," said Kirby. Dean lost no time in availing himself of this permission. He looked around him eagerly. He found himself in what appeared to be not a natural, but an artificial cave—dark, save for the light of a kerosene lamp, which was placed on a little rocky shelf, and diffused a sickly light about the cellar. At the end of the room there was a passage leading, as it seemed, to some inner apartment. Dean looked about in surprise. "What place is this?" he asked. "You may call it a cave if you like." "How long are you going to stay here?" "About five minutes." "That will be enough for me," said Dean shrugging his shoulders. "Hardly. You are to stay longer." "Are you going to leave me here—under the earth?" asked Dean, in alarm. "Don't you be scared, youngster—you will be safe. You won't be alone. Here, Pompey." Through the inner passage came a stunted negro, with a preternaturally large head, around which was pinned a cotton cloth in the shape of a turban. He bowed obsequiously, and eyed Dean with evident curiosity mingled with surprise. "This boy has come to visit you, Pompey," said Kirby, with grim pleasantry. "Yah, yah, massa!" chuckled Pompey, showing the whites of his eyes.