nnocent cause of that bit of
mischief, had no idea of what the breeze was doing, for neither she
nor her father, or any one else for that matter, knew of the existence
of the old workings so close at hand.

On the following morning Mary again entered the cavern, singing
light-heartedly as she did so. This time she remained but a few
minutes, for she had something to attend to in the house; but she held
aside the canvas curtain long enough to look out, assure herself that
no vessel was in sight, and to allow another inrush of air. From it a
second little breeze found its way beneath the great slab and into the
darkness of the underground passage, where it restored poor,
despairing Peveril to life and hope by cooling his fevered brow and
carrying the sound of singing to his ears.

The very next time the girl entered the cavern she was at first
bewildered to find the canvas screen drawn aside from its opening and
the place flooded with light. Next she was frightened to note that the
derrick was swung outward, and that its attached tackle was hanging
down out of sight.

Her first impulse was to run and call her father. Then she remembered
that, as he was down in the mine, it would be a long time before he
could come. Also, being a brave young woman and not easily frightened,
she determined to find out for herself if there was any real cause for
alarm. So she crept softly to the mouth of the cavern and peered
cautiously out.

At sight of a man lying on the rocks at the foot of the cliff, with
his head in the water, her heart almost stopped its beating and she
almost screamed. He lay so still that for a moment she imagined him to
be dead, though the next instant she knew he was not, for he lifted
his head to catch a breath. Then he again plunged it into the water,
and quick as thought the girl drew up the tackle by which he had
lowered himself.

"There," she said to herself; "I guess you will stay where you are,
Mister Man, until I can bring papa; and he'll know what to do with
you!"

She had drawn in the tackle very cautiously, without noticing the
little scraping noise that its lower block made in crossing the rocky
ledge, and she turned to go as she spoke.

But she must take one more look, just to see if that horrid man was
still there, and what he was doing.

So she very carefully leaned forward and gazed straight down into the
upturned face of Richard Peveril.

CHAPTER XX

PEVERIL IS TAKEN FOR A GHOS