I glanced at Rhodes; I thought that even he looked grave and troubled. Well, so I thought, might he be. I said nothing, however, until the angel had rejoined her companions. Then: "There can be not the slightest doubt that they look with great fear upon the coming of people from that world above, a world as mysterious, I suppose, to them as this subterranean world of theirs is to us. And, now they know that they have the great secret also when they have you and me--well, Milton, old _tillicum_, I think it will indeed be strange if either of us ever again casts a shadow in the sun." "It may be so, Bill," he said soberly. "I did not think of that when I told her. Still--well, who knows? Certainly not I. It is possible, indeed probable, it seems to me, that we may do them, _her_, Bill, a harsh injustice." "I sincerely hope so." That grave look left his face, and he smiled at me. "And, besides, Billy, me lad, maybe we won't ever want to return to that world we have left--that world so full of ignorance, and yet so full of knowledge and science too; that world so cruel, and yet sometimes so strangely kind; that world so full of hate and mad passion, and yet with ideals and aspirations so very noble and lofty. Yes, who knows, Bill? It is possible that we may not want to return." Was it significant, or was it purely casual? I could not decide. But Rhodes' gaze was now on the angel. And, whilst I stood pondering, she turned and signed to us that they stood in readiness to proceed. She raised a hand and pointed down the cavern, in some subtle manner making it clear that she was pointing to something far, so very far away. "Drome!" she said. "Drome," nodded Milton Rhodes. "Ready, Bill?" "Ready," I told him. And so we started. Chapter 24 WHAT NEXT? For a mile or more, the way led amongst pillars and stalagmites. Oh, the wonders that we saw in that great cavern! The exigencies of space, however, will not permit me to dwell upon them. There is, I may remark, no deposition of sinter going on now; undoubtedly many centuries have rolled over this old globe since the drip ceased, perhaps thousands upon thousands of years. Who can say? How little can scientists ever know, even when their knowledge seems so very great, of those dim and lost ages of the earth! "One thing that puzzles me," I remarked, "is that each of these Hypogeans has nothing but a canteen. So far as I can see, the whole party hasn't got the makings of a lunch for a ladybug. Can it be that we have not far to go, after all?" "I think, Bill, that we'll find the way a long one. My explanation is that, on starting for the bridge, they disencumbered themselves of the provision-supply (if they were not in camp) so that, of course, they could make the greater speed. That the angel had a companion back there, we know. We know, too, that that companion--in all likelihood, it was one of the girls--went for help."