own in the
bowels of the earth. Secondly, in spite of this suggestion of
distance, it was very loud. Lastly, it was not a boom, nor a crash,
such as one would associate with falling water or tumbling rock, but it
was a high whine, tremulous and vibrating, almost like the whinnying of
a horse. It was certainly a most remarkable experience, and one which
for a moment, I must admit, gave a new significance to Armitage's
words. I waited by the Blue John Gap for half an hour or more, but
there was no return of the sound, so at last I wandered back to the
farmhouse, rather mystified by what had occurred. Decidedly I shall
explore that cavern when my strength is restored. Of course,
Armitage's explanation is too absurd for discussion, and yet that sound
was certainly very strange. It still rings in my ears as I write.

April 20.--In the last three days I have made several expeditions to
the Blue John Gap, and have even penetrated some short distance, but my
bicycle lantern is so small and weak that I dare not trust myself very
far. I shall do the thing more systematically. I have heard no sound
at all, and could almost believe that I had been the victim of some
hallucination suggested, perhaps, by Armitage's conversation. Of
course, the whole idea is absurd, and yet I must confess that those
bushes at the entrance of the cave do present an appearance as if some
heavy creature had forced its way through them. I begin to be keenly
interested. I have said nothing to the Miss Allertons, for they are
quite superstitious enough already, but I have bought some candles, and
mean to investigate for myself.

I observed this morning that among the numerous tufts of sheep's wool
which lay among the bushes near the cavern there was one which was
smeared with blood. Of course, my reason tells me that if sheep wander
into such rocky places they are likely to injure themselves, and yet
somehow that splash of crimson gave me a sudden shock, and for a moment
I found myself shrinking back in horror from the old Roman arch. A
fetid breath seemed to ooze from the black depths into which I peered.
Could it indeed be possible that some nameless thing, some dreadful
presence, was lurking down yonder? I should have been incapable of
such feelings in the days of my strength, but one grows more nervous
and fanciful when one's health is shaken.

For the moment I weakened in my resolution, and was ready to leave the
secret of the old min