at the point where it had left off. The moment Margaret looked down she
gave a little cry, and started back against the screen. She was afraid
she would fall in.

"Roland," she exclaimed, "you don't mean to say that this is not really
an opening into the earth?"

He was near her on the other side of the screen, and he explained to her
the action of the light. Over and over she asked him to come inside and
tell her what it was she saw, but he always refused.

"The bottom is beautifully smooth and gray," she exclaimed; "what is
that?"

"Sand," said Roland.

"And now it is white, like a piece of pottery," she exclaimed.

"That is white clay," said he.

"Don't you want to take my place," said she, "if you will not come with
me?"

"No," said Roland. "Look down as long as you wish; I know pretty well
what you will see for some time to come. Has there been any change?"

"The bottom is still white," she replied, "but it is glittering."

"That is white sand," said he. "The Artesian well which supplies the
works revealed to me long ago the character of the soil at this spot, so
that for a hundred feet or more I know what we may expect to see."

She came out hurriedly. "When you begin to speak of wells," she said,
"I am frightened. If I should see water, I should lose my head." She sat
down and put her hand before her eyes. "My brain is dazzled," she said.
"I don't feel strong enough to believe what I have seen."

Roland shut off the current and opened the screen. "Come here,
Margaret," he said; "this is the spot upon which the light was shining.
I think it will do you good to look at it. Tread upon it; it will help
to reassure you that the things about us are real."

Margaret was silent for a few moments, and then, approaching Roland,
she took him by both hands. "You have succeeded," said she; "you are the
greatest discoverer of this age!"

"My dear Margaret," he interrupted, quickly, "do not let us talk in that
way; we have only just begun to work. Above all things, do not let us
get excited. If everything works properly, it will not be long before
I can send the Artesian ray down into depths with which I am not
acquainted--how far I do not know--but we must wait and see what is the
utmost we can do. When we have reached that point, it will be in order
to hoist our flags and blow our trumpets. I hope it will not be long
before the light descends so deep that we shall be obliged to use a
telescope."

"And will