should wish to go, and for my own part, so do I in a way. I want
to see what that old fellow has up his extremely long sleeve, if there
is anything there at all."

"Well, if you ask me, Bickley," I answered, "I believe it is the
destruction of half the earth, or some little matter of that sort."

At this suggestion Bickley only snorted, but Bastin said cheerfully:

"I dare say. He is bad enough even for that. But as I am quite convinced
that it will never be allowed, his intentions do not trouble me."

I remarked that he seemed to have carried them out once before.

"Oh! you mean the Deluge. Well, no doubt there was a deluge, but I am
sure that Oro had no more to do with it than you or I, as I think I have
said already. Anyhow it is impossible to leave you to descend into that
hole alone. I suggest, therefore, that we should go into the sepulchre
at the time which you believe Oro appointed, and see what happens. If
you are not mistaken, the Glittering Lady will come there to fetch us,
since it is quite certain that we cannot work the lift or whatever it
is, alone. If you are mistaken we can just go back to bed as usual."

"Yes, that's the best plan," said Bickley, shortly, after which the
conversation came to an end.

All that day and the next I watched and waited in vain for the coming
of Yva, but no Yva appeared. I even went as far as the sepulchre, but it
was as empty as were the two crystal coffins, and after waiting a while
I returned. Although I did not say so to Bickley, to me it was evident
that Oro, as he had said, was determined to cut off all communication
between us.

The second day drew to its close. Our simple preparations were complete.
They consisted mainly in making ready our hurricane lamps and packing
up a little food, enough to keep us for three or four days if necessary,
together with some matches and a good supply of oil, since, as Bastin
put it, he was determined not to be caught like the foolish virgins in
the parable.

"You see," he added, "one never knows when it might please that old
wretch to turn off the incandescent gas or electric light, or whatever
it is he uses to illumine his family catacombs, and then it would be
awkward if we had no oil."

"For the matter of that he might steal our lamps," suggested Bickley,
"in which case we should be where Moses was when the light went out."

"I have considered that possibility," answered Bastin, "and therefore,
although it is a dangerou