He fixed on the following afternoon for his second visit to the cave. The morning turned out very wet, the rain pouring down in quite unusual volume; but the sky cleared after dinner, and the two boys set off, timing themselves as before to reach the cave when the ebbing tide left the entrance free. Again the baby seals were alone, and much as Dick would have liked a tussle with their parents, his sporting bent was for the time subordinate to his wish to find the supposed landward entrance to the cave. The ladder perfectly answered its purpose, but it was disappointing to find that it was by no means long enough. Even when Dick, the taller of the two, stood on the topmost rung, Sam holding the ladder steady at the bottom, he saw that the walls still stretched for several feet above him. But the roof was now in sight, an irregular arch, consisting of knobs, wedges, and inverted pyramids of rock, and Dick felt the tantalising certainty that the opening, if opening there was, could not be far away. They went all round the cave, setting the ladder up at frequent intervals, Dick exploring every foot of the jagged wall with the aid of his lantern. There were plenty of recesses and depressions, ranging from a finger’s breadth to the length of his arm; but he did not find one where he was unable to touch the back of it with his outstretched hand. It was clear that the opening, if it existed, must be above his head. "We shall have to make another length of ladder, and come back again," he said to Sam. "I won’t give it up." He was standing high on the ladder as he spoke, dangling the lantern by a ring at the top. The words were scarcely out of his mouth when there was a tremendous crash, which shook the place, and so much startled him that, in an instinctive movement to cling on to something, he let the lantern fall. It lighted fairly on the top of Sam’s head, bounced off, and dropped with a thud to the sandy floor, where the candle was instantly extinguished. "Are you hurt, Sam?" cried Dick, anxiously. "Rabbit it all!" roared Sam, in high indignation. "Do ’ee think my head be wood then? Bean’t I got feelings like any other common man? My skull have got a furrow in it a yard long, and I may rub it till I’m dead, I’ll never straighten it out again." "I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it, Sam. Light the candle again, will you, so that we can see what has happened." Sam growled and grunted as he struck a light from his tinder-box. The rekindled candle revealed a strange catastrophe. A huge mass of the wall and roof of the cavern had collapsed, owing perhaps to the heavy rains in the morning, and the débris was lying in a heap against the opening of the tunnel leading to the exterior. "If this bean’t a pretty kettle of fish, never call me Sam again," said the boy in consternation. "’Tis closed up; we be shet in."