urface again.
Well, I was just on the point of turning,--for I began to feel a little
uncomfortable in such a place,--when it seemed to me as if there was a
faint light right above me. I darted upwards, and found my head out of
water. This relieved me greatly, for I now felt that I could take in air
enough to enable me to return the way I came. Then it all at once
occurred to me that I might not be able to find the way out again; but,
on glancing downwards, my mind was put quite at rest by seeing the green
light below me streaming into the cave, just like the light that we had
seen streaming out of it, only what I now saw was much brighter.

"At first I could scarcely see anything as I gazed around me, it was so
dark; but gradually my eyes became accustomed to it, and I found that I
was in a huge cave, part of the walls of which I observed on each side of
me. The ceiling just above me was also visible, and I fancied that I
could perceive beautiful glittering objects there, but the farther end of
the cave was shrouded in darkness. While I was looking around me in
great wonder, it came into my head that you two would think I was
drowned; so I plunged down through the passage again in a great hurry,
rose to the surface, and--here I am!"

When Jack concluded his recital of what he had seen in this remarkable
cave, I could not rest satisfied till I had dived down to see it; which I
did, but found it so dark, as Jack had said, that I could scarcely see
anything. When I returned, we had a long conversation about it, during
which I observed that Peterkin had a most lugubrious expression on his
countenance.

"What's the matter, Peterkin?" said I.

"The matter?" he replied. "It's all very well for you two to be talking
away like mermaids about the wonders of this cave, but you know I must be
content to hear about it, while you are enjoying yourselves down there
like mad dolphins. It's really too bad."

"I'm very sorry for you, Peterkin, indeed I am," said Jack, "but we
cannot help you. If you would only learn to dive--"

"Learn to fly, you might as well say!" retorted Peterkin, in a very sulky
tone.

"If you would only consent to keep still," said I, "we would take you
down with us in ten seconds."

"Hum!" returned Peterkin; "suppose a salamander was to propose to you
'only to keep still,' and he would carry you through a blazing fire in a
few seconds, what would you say?"

We both laughed and shook our heads,