little light that found
an entrance through the cave's mouth, and thus produced, we conjectured,
the pale-green object which had first attracted our attention. We
concluded, also, that the reflecting power of this rock was that which
gave forth the dim light that faintly illumined the first part of the
cave.

Before diving through the passage again we extinguished the small piece
of our torch that remained, and left it in a dry spot; conceiving that we
might possibly stand in need of it, if at any future time we should
chance to wet our torch while diving into the cavern. As we stood for a
few minutes after it was out, waiting till our eyes became accustomed to
the gloom, we could not help remarking the deep, intense stillness and
the unutterable gloom of all around us; and, as I thought of the
stupendous dome above, and the countless gems that had sparkled in the
torch-light a few minutes before, it came into my mind to consider how
strange it is that God should make such wonderful and extremely-beautiful
works never to be seen at all, except, indeed, by chance visitors such as
ourselves.

I afterwards found that there were many such caverns among the islands of
the South Seas, some of them larger and more beautiful than the one I
have just described.

"Now, Ralph, are you ready?" said Jack, in a low voice, that seemed to
echo up into the dome above.

"Quite ready."

"Come along, then," said he; and, plunging off the ledge of the rock into
the water, we dived through the narrow entrance. In a few seconds we
were panting on the rocks above, and receiving the congratulations of our
friend Peterkin.

CHAPTER XIV.

Strange peculiarity of the tides--Also of the twilight--Peterkin's
remarkable conduct in embracing a little pig and killing a big sow--Sage
remarks on jesting--Also on love.

It was quite a relief to us to breathe the pure air and to enjoy the glad
sunshine after our long ramble in the Diamond Cave, as we named it; for,
although we did not stay more than half an hour away, it seemed to us
much longer. While we were dressing, and during our walk home, we did
our best to satisfy the curiosity of poor Peterkin, who seemed to regret,
with lively sincerity, his inability to dive.

There was no help for it, however, so we condoled with him as we best
could. Had there been any great rise or fall in the tide of these seas,
we might perhaps have found it possible to take him down with us at low