Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Internet Archive. UPSIDONIA BY THE SAME AUTHOR THE HOUSE OF MERRILEES EXTON MANOR THE ELDEST SON THE SQUIRE'S DAUGHTER THE HONOUR OF THE CLINTONS THE GREATEST OF THESE THE OLD ORDER CHANGETH WATERMEADS UPSIDONIA ABINGTON ABBEY THE GRAFTONS RICHARD BALDOCK THE CLINTONS AND OTHERS UPSIDONIA BY ARCHIBALD MARSHALL Author of "Exton Manor," "The Honour of the Clintons," "Watermeads," etc. [Illustration] NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 1919 TO THE THREE COMIC CHARACTERS, K, M, & N. UPSIDONIA CHAPTER I I had been walking for many days, carrying my pack, enjoying myself hugely and spending next to nothing. I had got into a wild hilly country, where habitation was very sparse, and had walked for hours that morning along a rough road without meeting a single human being. In the middle of the day I came to a moor-side hamlet, where I got something of a meal, and set out again almost immediately, meaning to find some place where I could enjoy an hour's sleep. For it was very hot, and I had already walked over twenty miles. But as I left the village, I was joined by a gentleman of obliging manners but somewhat unkempt appearance, who invited me to turn aside and visit the old jet caves, which had once been famous in this locality, though long since disused. For anything but a cave, I should have done my best to shake him off, but I have a great love of caves, especially of those which go mysteriously back into the bowels of the earth, and no one knows their ending. They are full of romance, and call up all sorts of delightful visions. From Eastern tales of magic and treasure to brisk tales of smugglers, the entrance to a cave has always been the entrance to regions of mystery, in which anything may happen. So I immediately accepted the invitation to visit these caves, which were only a few hundred yards away from the main road. At first sight they were a trifle disappointing. There were three of them, at the foot of a high bank of shale, almost hidden by trees and shrubs. The shale had nearly closed the entrances, and one looked over a bank of it, which left a hole hardly more than big enough to creep through. Still, they were undoubtedly caves, and not mere holes in the hillside. The largest one was full of water, and little ferns grew luxuriantly on the sides and roof, which dripped continuously. One of the others was choked by a fall of earth a little way from the entrance, and my guide told me that this had happened quite recently, after a very wet spell. The third was comparatively dry, and he said that he had himself penetrated more than a mile into it, with no signs of its ending.