was desperately thirsty and could see no sign of
water.

"It would be pretty hard lines if I should be compelled to return to
my old well for a drink," he said to himself.

As soon as he had recovered breath, Peveril rose to his feet and began
to walk slowly towards that part of the cavern where the light seemed
brightest. As he went he looked eagerly on all sides for some trace of
the singer whose voice had inspired him with a new hope at the moment
of his blackest despair, but no person was to be seen or heard.

At the same time he found abundant proof that human beings had
recently visited that place, and would doubtless soon do so again.
This was in the shape of boxes, bales, and casks piled against the
walls on both sides of the passage. For a moment Peveril was greatly
puzzled by these; then, as he recalled Joe Pintaud's conversation
regarding smugglers, he concluded that he had stumbled across a depot
of goods belonging to those free-traders of the great lake.

"In which case," he said to himself, "I shall surely be out of here
within a few minutes; for an entrance for smugglers must mean an exit
for prisoners."

This was a sound theory, but, like a great many other theories, one
that proved faulty upon practical application, as our young friend
discovered a few minutes later.

Directly beyond the packages of goods he came upon a small derrick,
set firmly into the solid rock at both top and bottom. It had a
substantial block-and-fall attachment, and was swung inward. At this
point also a heavy tarpaulin, reaching from floor to ceiling, was hung
completely across the cavern.

Cautiously raising one corner of this, Peveril was blinded by such a
flood of light that for a moment he was completely dazzled. As his
vision was gradually restored he found himself on the brink of a
precipice and gazing out over a boundless expanse of water--in fact,
over the great lake itself. A narrow ledge projected a little beyond
the curtain that he had lifted, and as he hesitatingly stepped out
upon it he also instinctively grasped a small cedar that grew from it
to steady himself while he looked down.

The descent was sheer for twenty feet, and so smooth as not to afford
a single foothold along its entire face. From the rippling water at
its base rose a jagged ledge of black rocks, which Peveril recognized
the moment his eyes fell upon them.

"Of all mysteries this is the most inexplicable!" he cried; "and yet
it surely i