With a convulsive shudder, Burr Wythe wiped the clotted blood from his hand. Duplin, startled by the cry of his comrade, quickly turned his head. "What is it, Wythe?" "Nothing--I rested my hand in that blood yonder. But what is this--a cave?" "It must be--and see! There are blood-stains on the inside edges of the rock. Whoever, one or many, have gone in there, taking poor Jack with them, either dead or alive," muttered Paley, as he drew back and carefully looked to his weapons. "Then out of it they must come," determinedly returned Burr, his eyes glittering. "But how? If in there, they have the advantage of us in every respect." "There is only one way. We must enter and do the best we can." "It looks like suicide, after what we see here; but if you dare risk it, I will not fail you. We can not desert the lad. He would risk as much for either of us." "Here--let me pass in first. I can get some idea of what is before us, and if they mean mischief, they'll wait to make sure of us both. Do you keep back from the entrance, but ready to assist me if I call." Pale but resolute, Wythe crawled into the hole, and then glanced quickly around him, as though in hopes of being able to penetrate the dense gloom. That his heart beat quicker than common, is no disparagement to his courage, for there is nothing so trying as facing an unknown danger _in the dark_. Feeling around he found several pebbles, and flung them violently from him. From their faint echoes, he learned what he desired. "It's a large cave, Paley," he uttered, as he emerged into the open air. "We must not enter without material for torches. We might pass within arm's length of poor Jack, and not know it." Thoroughly determined to find their missing comrade, and if possible those who had struck this blow, the two men scarcely gave a thought now to the danger they might be incurring, nor how completely they would be at the mercy of any hidden enemy, while they were bearing lighted torches. So, while Wythe guarded the cave entrance, Duplin hastily collected material for torches. A few minutes sufficed for this, and then both men entered the hole. Thus shielded from the wind, they soon succeeded in kindling a torch, and then, while one held it aloft, the other kept just without the circle of light, with cocked and ready revolver. In this manner one at least would be running less risk. Duplin, as being the best shot, held the latter position. The two friends curiously glanced around them. But little was to be seen, save the jagged roof of rock, as the torch emitted but a feeble light. Still, a few moments showed them that the chamber in which they stood was untenanted save by themselves. It was of considerable size, irregular in outline, rough and jagged, with a low roof or ceiling. "Look! here is a sort of tunnel," muttered Wythe, waving the light before him. "And--yes! here goes the blood-drops. Poor Jack! if it's _his_ blood, he must be dead."