on the nerves. The tomb was empty,
except for a few bones that might have been anything huddled at the
bottom, and Mrs. Portheris sat down on the lower end of it. "I really do
not feel able to go any further," she said; "the ascent is so
perpendicular."

I was going to protest that the place was as level as a street, but
Dicky forestalled me. "Eucalyptus," he said soothingly, "often has that
effect."

"We are lost," continued Mrs. Portheris lugubriously, "in the Catacombs.
We may as well make up our minds to it. We came here this morning at ten
o'clock, and I should think, I should think--thish mus' be minnight on
the following day."

"My watch has run down," said Dicky, "but you are probably quite right,
Mrs. Portheris."

"It is doubtful," Mrs. Portheris went on, pulling herself together,
"whether we are ever found. There are nine hundred miles of Catacombs.
Unless we become cannibals we are likely to die of starvation. If we do
become cannibals, Mr. Dod," she added, sternly endeavouring to look
Dicky in the eye, "I hope you will remember what ish due to ladies."

"I will offer myself up gladly," said he, and I could not help
reflecting upon the comfort of a third party with a sense of humour
under the circumstances.

"Thass right," said Mrs. Portheris, nodding approvingly, and much
oftener than was necessary. "Though there isn't much on you--you won't
go very far." Then after a moment of gloomy reflection she blew out her
candle, and, before I could prevent it, mine also. Dicky hastily put his
out of reach.

"Three candles at once," she said virtuously, "in a room of this size!
It is wicked extravagance, neither more nor less."

I assure you you would have laughed, even in the Catacombs, and Dicky
and I mutually approached the borders of hysteria in our misplaced
mirth. Mrs. Portheris smiled in unison somewhat foolishly, and we saw
that slumber was overtaking her. Gradually and unconsciously she slipped
down and back, and presently rested comfortably in the sepulchre of her
selection, sound asleep.

"She is right in it," said Dicky, holding up his candle. "She's a lulu,"
he added disgustedly, "with her eucalyptus."

This was disrespectful, but consider the annoyance of losing a third of
our forces against seven million Early Christian ghosts. We sat down,
Dicky and I, with our backs against the tomb of Mrs. Portheris, and when
Dicky suggested that I might like him to hold my hand for a little while
I mad