"Attentive and intelligent darling, I thank thee. The theory is that Fahey, in falling or sliding down the shaft, struck the western wall of the pool in which we found him, and brought down a huge mass of clay which was ripe for falling, or that it had fallen recently, or that our gunshot had brought it down. The curtain of water was formed by a spring of fresh water. There are always dozens of such springs in cliffs. As to the foot of the shaft, the explanation is that at the time the miners were at work the sea had not eaten so far inward. In fact, that whole district is and has been gradually so enormously undermined, that soon a mighty subsidence must take place." "But you say that the hole down to the mine slanted. How did he get up and down? It would have been barely possible, but dangerous, to crawl up." "He had a rope by which to hold on, and while holding on thus, he could walk upright--that is, hand over hand. Before the fall of the planks that covered the top of the shaft, Fahey had crept out by a small opening looking seaward, and concealed from view, if any one ever should be so foolhardy as to go there, by a thick growth of furze." "Well, what did you do afterwards?" "When?" "You told me only as far as coming back from the Puffing Hole." "True. Well, we laid what remained of the unfortunate man on the rock which had often been his resting-place before, and then rowed back through the wonderful Red Cave, and put the matter in the hands of the police. At the inquest all about the forgery of Davenport and Fahey and the swindle on the Paris bank came out, and Mrs. Davenport was examined, She admitted Fahey had made love to her, as you saw by the papers. Wasn't it strange that Alfred should be the first to see her husband and her husband's partner in guilt dead, and not by natural means, and that at both inquests she spoke of a new lover, and that Alfred, the newest lover of all three, should have been at both inquests?" "It is astonishing and terrible. I wonder what will come of it?" "Heaven knows. But there, let it go now, Madge. When you come to Ireland, love, you shall see those wonderful caves." "I'd rather die," she said, "than go near them." "What!--if they were lit by the glorious effulgence of this splendid specimen of the O'Briens?" This dialogue took place one day after dinner in the June following the visit to the cave. The villainous Fishery Commissioners had been overcome, and Jerry and Madge were to be married in a week. Alfred Paulton was still at the "Strand Hotel," in the village of Kilcash. CHAPTER XLVII. CONCLUSION. "Marion, will you not listen to me?--will you not listen to reason? Your fortune, you say, is now all gone--must be restored to its lawful owners, the Paris bankers, and that you have made the necessary arrangements for doing so. You are bankrupt in fortune: why should you be bankrupt also in love?"