They looked up. It had windows of thick glass, and high seats about four feet from its edge, running all round inside. 'Take your seats,' said the Enchanter. Bellamant lifted his Princess to the bench and leaped up beside her. 'Now,' said the old man, 'sit still, hold each other's hands, and for your lives don't move.' He went away, and next moment they felt the bell swing in the air. It swung round till once more it was over the well, and then it went down, down, down. 'I'm not afraid, with you,' said Belinda, because she was, dreadfully. Down went the bell. The glass windows leaped into light, looking through them the two could see blurred glories of lamps in the side of the cave, magic lamps, or perhaps merely electric, which, curiously enough have ceased to seem magic to us nowadays. Then with a plop the lower edge of the bell met the water, the water rose inside it, a little, then not any more. And the bell went down, down, and above their heads the green water lapped against the windows of the bell. 'You're under water--if we stay five minutes,' Belinda whispered. 'Yes, dear,' said Bellamant, and pulled out his ruby-studded chronometer. 'It's five minutes for you, but oh!' cried Belinda, 'it's _now_ for me. For I've found the bell that doesn't ring, and can't ring, and never will ring, and wasn't made to ring. Oh Bellamant dearest, it's Thursday. _Have_ I got my Sunday face?' She tore away her veil, and his eyes, fixed upon her face, could not leave it. 'Oh dream of all the world's delight,' he murmured, 'how beautiful you are.' Neither spoke again till a sudden little shock told them that the bell was moving up again. 'Nonsense,' said Bellamant, 'it's not five minutes.' But when they looked at the ruby-studded chronometer, it was nearly three-quarters of an hour. But then, of course, the well was enchanted! 'Magic? Nonsense,' said the old man when they hung about him with thanks and pretty words. 'It's only a diving-bell. My own invention.' * * * * * So they went home and were married, and the Princess did not wear a veil at the wedding. She said she had had enough veils to last her time. * * * * * And a year and a day after that a little daughter was born to them. 'Now sweetheart,' said King Bellamant--he was king now because the old king and queen had retired from the business, and were keeping pigs and hens in the country as they had always planned to do--'dear sweetheart and life's love, I am going to ring the bells with my own hands, to show how glad I am for you, and for the child, and for our good life together.' So he went out. It was very dark, because the baby princess had chosen to be born at midnight.