They had stopped on one of the platforms to snuff the flaring candles, a supply of which the manager carried in a tin box slung from his shoulder, when once more from the other part of the shaft came the rushing noise of the ascending and descending buckets, and so close did they sound that Geoffrey involuntarily shrank, feeling that they must strike against him and crush him on the narrow platform where he stood. But after this his ears grew more accustomed to the sound, and he began again plodding steadily downward, the frantic desire to cling tightly to the ladder and ask for help growing weaker as he became more used to the task. At last the manager stopped, and pointed to a black opening before him like a little arch in the side of the shaft. "Here's one of the old galleries," he said. "Would you like to see it?" "Are the men at work here?" "Work? No! Nor haven't been these fifty years. But there's enough to see there to give you an idea of the mine, and it would save you from going down farther if you are sick of it." "I'm not sick of it," said Geoffrey, stoutly. "I'm only warm. Go on down to the bottom, and let's see the workings." "All right!" said the manager, smiling, as he gave Geoffrey a peculiar look; and a fresh start was made. "That fellow Tregenna has done this to try me," thought Geoffrey. "He could have given me an introduction to some mine where there was a regular cage. Never mind: I'm not chicken enough to give it up!" and, regardless of the rotten, wet ladders, he steadily went on, his spirits rising and his confidence increasing--for as he kept on noting the primitive way in which every thing was done, he felt more and more satisfied that if science were brought to bear in such a mine as this the profits must be largely increased. For instance, he reasoned, here were the miners forced to undergo a long and arduous piece of toil before they could reach their work, and when their spell was over they had a fresh task to climb patiently up at a time when they were exhausted with toil, thus spending fruitlessly many hours every week. "I've come to the right place," he thought, with a feeling of exultation coming over him, "and if I don't make my way it is my own fault." "Tired?" said the manager, from below. "No," was the sturdy answer. "Are you?" A low, chuckling laugh came up to Geoffrey as he glanced down at the descending-light in the manager's hat. "Well, if you put it in that way, sir, I am; and we'll get a little wind here by this old lode." He stopped on the next platform, and, Geoffrey joining him, he once more snuffed the candles. There was another opening going horizontally into the bowels of the earth, where a lode of tin had been followed until it had become worthless. The roof glistened with huge crystals, which flashed in the light of the candles as they were held inside what looked like a subterranean passage into a castle, the abode of some giant of the nether world.