. Suppose, egg-hunting, she had
stumbled across this Valley of Death! How could he hope to keep it
hidden from her? Was not the ghastly knowledge better than the horror
of a chance ramble through the wood and the shock of discovery, nay,
indeed, the risk of a catastrophe?

He was a man who relieved his surcharged feelings with strong
language--a habit of recent acquisition. He indulged in it now and felt
better. He rushed back through the trees until he caught sight of Iris
industriously kneading the sago pith in one of those most useful
dish-covers.

He called to her, led her wondering to the track, and pointed out the
fatal quarry, but in such wise that she could not look inside it.

"You remember that round hole we saw from the summit rock?" he said.
"Well, it is full of carbonic acid gas, to breathe which means
unconsciousness and death. It gives no warning to the inexperienced. It
is rather pleasant than otherwise. Promise me you will never come near
this place again."

Now, Iris, too, had been thinking deeply. Robert Jenks bulked large in
her day-dreams. Her nerves were not yet quite normal. There was a catch
in her throat as she answered--

"I don't want to die. Of course I will keep away. What a horrid island
this is! Yet it might be a paradise."

She bit her lip to suppress her tears, but, being the Eve in this
garden, she continued--

"How did you find out? Is there anything--nasty--in there?"

"Yes, the remains of animals, and other things. I would not have told
you were it not imperative."

"Are you keeping other secrets from me?"

"Oh, quite a number."

He managed to conjure up a smile, and the ruse was effective. She
applied the words to his past history.

"I hope they will not be revealed so dramatically," she said.

"You never can tell," he answered. They were in prophetic vein that
morning. They returned in silence to the cave.

"I wish to go inside, with a lamp. May I?" he asked.

"Certainly. Why not?"

He had an odd trick of blushing, this bronzed man with a gnarled soul.
He could not frame a satisfactory reply, but busied himself in
refilling the lamp.

"May I come too?" she demanded.

He flung aside the temptation to answer her in kind, merely assenting,
with an explanation of his design. When the lamp was in order he held
it close to the wall and conducted a systematic survey. The geological
fault which favored the construction of the tunnel seemed to diverge to
the left at