hange, plus c'est la meme chose. Yet
others, like Oro, consider it as a realm of possibilities, probably
unpleasant and perhaps non-existent; just this and nothing more. Only
one thing is certain, that no creature which has life desires to leap
into the fire and from the dross of doubts, to resolve the gold--or the
lead--of certainty.

"It is time to be going," said Bastin. "In these skies the sun seems to
tumble down, not to set decently as it does in England, and if we wait
any longer we shall be late for our appointment in the sepulchre. I am
sorry because although I don't often notice scenery, everything looks
rather beautiful this evening. That star, for instance, I think it is
called Venus."

"And therefore one that Arbuthnot should admire," broke in Bickley,
attempting to lighten matters with a joke. "But come on and let us be
rid of this fool's errand. Certainly the world is a lovely place after
all, and for my part I hope that we haven't seen the last of it," he
added with a sigh.

"So do I," said Bastin, "though of course, Faith teaches us that there
are much better ones beyond. It is no use bothering about what they are
like, but I hope that the road to them doesn't run through the hole that
the old reprobate, Oro, calls Nyo."

A few minutes later we started, each of us carrying his share of the
impedimenta. I think that Tommy was the only really cheerful member
of the party, for he skipped about and barked, running backwards and
forwards into the mouth of the cave, as though to hurry our movements.

"Really," said Bastin, "it is quite unholy to see an animal going on in
that way when it knows that it is about to descend into the bowels of
the earth. I suppose it must like them."

"Oh! no," commented Bickley, "it only likes what is in them--like
Arbuthnot. Since that little beast came in contact with the Lady Yva, it
has never been happy out of her company."

"I think that is so," said Bastin. "At any rate I have noticed that it
has been moping for the last two days, as it always does when she is
not present. It even seems to like Oro who gives me the creeps, perhaps
because he is her father. Dogs must be very charitable animals."

By now we were in the cave marching past the wrecks of the half-buried
flying-machines, which Bickley, as he remarked regretfully, had never
found time thoroughly to examine. Indeed, to do so would have needed
more digging than we could do without proper instruments, since