It was a sombre granite house, built strongly to resist the sweep of the great winds which roared across the bay and the barren islands. When they went into it, welcomed by a wizened old woman, so deep was the gloom that they paused on the threshold, uncertain where their next step might land them, until their eyes became accustomed to the half-light, and they could make out the old oak benches and table, and the cupboard bed high in the wall. A guide for the cavern? Oh yes! her husband would be there in a moment. He had seen the boat, and was getting lights; but it was a wild day for ladies to cross. Would they please write their names while they were waiting? The _cure_ had come before them; her daughter was ill--very ill. Wouldn't they please to dry their wet clothes? Her husband was ready, but there was plenty of time. No, Mrs Lascelles said; they would go at once. Like other energetic people, she was impatient to finish what she had begun, and she told herself that if Everitt had the grace to keep out of the way, they had better take advantage of his absence. Kitty was silent; she made no remonstrance, but when the boy prepared to follow, she informed him rather authoritatively that he had better go back to the boat. The famous cavern is a long narrow passage, traversed with lights, like the Roman catacombs, and worked with strange and ancient carvings, in which the serpent plays a prominent part. There is not much to be told of them, and Kitty and her mother knew less; they finished their investigations without much sense of gain. Kitty was restless, and yet silent; her mother was restless and talkative. Once or twice their guide lifted his hand and listened. "There was another monsieur," he said, "in the boat. My wife said she would send him on." "Perhaps he is not coming," Mrs Lascelles suggested. The man stared at her. "There is nothing else to cross to the island for," he said stolidly. "We will get back as quickly as we can, Kitty," said her mother. "The wind is certainly higher." When they came out, indeed, it was evident that the storm had increased. The clouds were darker and more menacing; the water, even under the lee of the island, was surging forward in long heavings which looked like iron; the wind rushed against them with a fierce persistence, different from the wet squalls which had faced them as they came. The women hurried on, refusing to take shelter again in the grey house, from the doorway of which the boatman and the _cure_ were watching for them. Old Stevan was brief in his remarks. Yes, he said, they should start at once. The wind was freshening to a gale, and if they delayed-- Where was the other gentleman? Kitty inquired.