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 mine, if one exists, for ever unsolved. But tonight my
interest has returned and my nerves grown more steady. Tomorrow I trust
that I shall have gone more deeply into this matter.

April 22.--Let me try and set down as accurately as I can my
extraordinary experience of yesterday. I started in the afternoon, and
made my way to the Blue John Gap. I confess that my misgivings returned
as I gazed into its depths, and I wished that I had brought a companion
to share my exploration. Finally, with a return of resolution, I lit my
candle, pushed my way through the briars, and descended into the rocky
shaft.

It went down at an acute angle for some fifty feet, the floor being
covered with broken stone. Thence there extended a long, straight
passage cut in the solid rock. I am no geologist, but the lining of this
corridor was certainly of some harder material than limestone, for there
were points where I could actually see the tool-marks which the old
miners had left in their excavation, as fresh as if they had been done
yesterday. Down this strange, old-world corridor I stumbled, my feeble
flame throwing a dim circle of light around me, which made the shadows
beyond the