“This is not even a Saxon-English burrow, but probably goes back to the days of the original inhabitants of Britain,” he said. “We are walking in paths that were originally cut by cavemen. Doesn’t that thrill you, Leslie?” “Terribly,” she said, with unconscious irony. “I’ll have the place wired and lit; it will be necessary to increase the electric supply, but Dick will see to that. I may present it to the nation or to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners--I’m not certain which. There is no doubt from an archæological point of view.…” So he talked on and she followed him, sometimes listening, sometimes her mind occupied with the agony of thought. Was Dick safe? She was sure that he was not alone; there were men at the top of the well and they would save him. It was not possible that Dick Alford should die in that dark place, that his splendid life should be ended so tragically. The walking was tiring, for they were climbing all the time. They must have covered about a quarter of a mile when he stopped. “Here is the side passage,” he said, and warned her: “Don’t go into it; the stones are still falling.” He put his light into the hole--it was no more--and she saw a great heap of fallen rock in the middle of the path. There was just room between the top of the heap and the roof to crawl through. But what she noticed instantly was the strong current of air that fanned her cheeks when she stopped to look through the aperture. “This must be the way, Harry,” she said instantly. “Can’t you feel the air?” “I noticed that,” he agreed, but was reluctant to enter this unpromising byway. “We must go, Harry. There’s no other way out,” she said. “We are getting farther and farther down, away from the Abbey, and, as you say, beyond here is only a labyrinth that brings you back to the place from where you started.” “All right,” he agreed, with evident distaste. “I had better go first.” He crawled gingerly over the pile of stones and slid down on the other side. She heard his voice. “It is all right here,” he said, and then the light of his lamp showed and she followed him. The passage was very high; it was a natural fissure in the rock. Yet the hand of man must have been here, for the floor had been levelled, and there was evidence of animal life. A long black shape scudded across the path and disappeared through a hole. The girl gave a little scream and shrank back. “It is only a weasel,” said Harry calmly. “Where a weasel can get, we can get.” The passage had widened and now the work of man became evident. They were in a square chamber with two entrances on either side. The roof was of vaulted stone that seemed to bulge downward as if it supported a weight beyond its capacity, but this was hidden by the long stalactites that flashed in the light of the lantern. And she shivered. It was extraordinarily cold, almost as if they had come into an ice house. “No door. I wonder what the idea of this place was.”