nals, that they finally decided to avail themselves of the
tackle hanging ready beside them to go up and investigate. The captain
of the schooner, who was an Englishman, went first, and the other, who
was a French Canadian, followed closely after him.

[Illustration: A WILD-LOOKING MAN LEVELLED A PISTOL AT PEVERIL]

To their amazement they found the cavern, which they had been told was
never entered except by old man Darrell or his son, in possession of
two strangers, who appeared equally surprised at seeing them.

"What are you chaps doing 'ere?" demanded the Englishman.

"Oui. By gar! vat you do in zis place?" added his follower.

"I was about to ask that same question," said Peveril. "What are _you_
doing here?"

"Yes, be jabers! That's what _we_ want to know. What be _yous_ doing
here?" chimed in Mike Connell.

At that moment a wild-looking, white-headed figure suddenly appeared
on the scene, and, with one searching glance at Peveril, who stood
fully revealed in the light of Mike Connell's lantern, levelled a
pistol full at him. As he did so, a cry of terror rang through the
rock-hewn chamber, and a pair of soft arms were flung about the old
man from behind. By this his aim was so disconcerted that, though the
shot still rang out with startling effect in that confined space, its
bullet flew wide of the intended mark, and Peveril stood unharmed.

In another second the schooner's captain had sprung upon the madman
and wrenched the pistol from his hand, crying out:

"No, no, Mr. Darrell! There must be no murder connected with this
business. It is bad enough, God knows, without having that added!"

"C'est vrai! Certainment! By gar!" shouted the Canadian.

"You bet your sweet life, old man! That sort of thing don't go down in
the copper country, and it's mighty lucky for you that the young
feller was on hand to kape you from carrying out your murderous
intentions," said Mike Connell, sternly.

Peveril, seeing that the man, whom he had already recognized, was
rendered harmless by the loss of his pistol, remained coolly silent,
waiting for some cue by which his own course of action might be
determined.

"I see I have made a mistake, gentlemen," said Ralph Darrell, changing
his tactics with all a madman's cunning and readiness. "And I beg
Mister--a--"

"Peveril," said the young man--"Richard Peveril is my name, sir."

"Yes, of course; and, as I was saying, I beg Mr. Richard Peveril's
pardon for being so ha