When we go out of our way to delude the world from interested motives, and do it, moreover, by a lie, the chances are that the step recoils unpleasantly upon us. In some way or other we are repaid in our own coin. It may not be immediately; it may not be for years to come; but rely upon it, it does come home to us sooner or later. We see the blind folly we were guilty of: not to speak of the sin: and we cry out in our flood-tide of repentance, Oh, that I had not quitted the straightforward path! As Blase Pellet was crying now. The owner of the land, one of those mine-owners whose wealth is fabulous, became interested in the case. He came forward, and gave orders that the pit should be examined, to ascertain whether or not the missing man was there. The necessary machinery was soon brought into requisition--where wealth commands, difficulties are lightened--and the Bottomless Shaft was searched. Yes. Josiah Bell was brought up to the surface. His attire was recognized as that which he had worn the day of his disappearance: and there remained no doubt that he had met his death that same night by falling down the pit. Amidst startling commotion, an inquest was called. Of course the question now was, how he got down there: a question that puzzled his friends and the world in general. For it was a well-known fact that Bell gave way to superstitious fancies, and would not be likely to approach the shaft alone at night. But no evidence came forward that could throw light on the mystery. Those who had seen him last in life--the pitmen with whom he had been drinking at the Golden Shaft, and his wife at home, who had been the last person, so far as was known, to exchange a word with him--told what they had to tell. Their testimony amounted to nothing. Neither, for that matter, did Mr. Blase Pellet's. Very much to his dismay, Mr. Pellet was summoned as a witness, and was sharply questioned by the coroner about his dream.