The next minute the leaders of the party were in a wide and spacious chamber, fairly level as to its floor, with the sides running into rugged niches and holes, all of which were well searched, without avail, a couple of men being left, sentry-like, at one which ran down like a sloping passage into some lower place. Along this, as soon as the big chamber had proved to be empty, Lennox hurried. The descent was very steep and rugged, and necessitated his lowering himself down by his hands in two or three places, till a lower story, so to speak, was reached, in the shape of a vast chamber of the most irregular form, the whole party assembling about the entrance, where the lights were held-up, to show dimly what seemed to be huge, rounded lumps placed here and there upon heaps of broken stones or blocks which had fallen from the roof some ten or a dozen feet overhead, while at one end the top of the cave sloped down to join the rising floor. "This seems to be the bottom of the cave," said Captain Roby. "Now, sharp, my lads. Keep that way out safe." "Which?" said Dickenson. "Here's another hole in the floor. Lantern here. Yes, there's another private staircase with a flight of steps ready. This ought to be the well. Yes; come and listen. You can hear water rushing." Sure enough, as they bent over the gloomy, mysterious-looking hole, up which a cool, moist breath of air arose, they could hear the gurgling rush of hurrying water, while the light held down showed the rugged bark of another tree ready for descent. "Will you go down, Lennox?" said the captain. "Oh yes, I'll go down," was the reply. "Well, undress," said Dickenson banteringly. "It means a swim. Don't spoil your neat uniform." "Will you go?" asked Lennox sharply. "Oh yes, I'll go," said Dickenson. "Thank you," replied Lennox through his set teeth.--"Here, sergeant, give me the lantern." Catching it from the man, he planted his foot upon the first branch stump a foot below the edge of the yawning hole; but the moment he touched it a violent jerk was given to the tree-trunk, just as if it had been seized by some one below and wrenched round. Lennox's position was so insecure, with one hand holding the lantern, that he was thrown off his balance, and he would have fallen headlong down but for the snatch he made at the sergeant, who also caught at him, slipped, and the two were nearly precipitated down the horrible place at the bottom of which the water was rushing with a hollow, echoing, whispering sound. The tree saved them, the sergeant getting a firm hold; but between them the light of the lantern was shut off, hidden between the two men for the moment, and an attempt was made by Dickenson to reach and drag it up. "I've got it," he cried. "Let it come. No, I haven't; mind."