pen door as a welcome home to the master.

"You ought to go first, young gentleman," said Samson, "but you won't
know the way in the dark; and as I'm going along by the sheep track,
there won't be room for you alongside me, so you'd better come behind.
Keep close, for it's dark under the green stuff and a bit awkward, but
it cuts off a quarter of a mile. Come on."

Nic followed the old man across a fenced-in enclosure, over the fence,
and then down a steep slope into a gully, where their path soon
resembled silvery lacework on velvet, for they were going beneath
arching ferns of the most delicate nature. Then they had to leap dark
roaring water, that flashed and sparkled where the moonbeams touched a
broad glassy curve before it plunged down into some dark mysterious
depth.

"Pretty place this by daylight, sir," said the old man. "Mind how you
come across here. Give me your hand to steady you, for it's pretty tidy
dark."

"What is it--water?" asked Nic.

"Yes; it's a deep bit of a pool as the master dammed up, and this here's
a tree felled to lie acrost it like a bridge. You won't like it by
daylight p'raps, but it's quite safe, and you can't see how deep it is
in the dark."

Nic hesitated for a moment, then lightly grasped the man's hand, but
only for a moment. The next the bony hand had clutched his wrist like a
vice.

"That's better," said the old man. "Now you can slip if you like, and I
can hold you if you do."

There was nothing else for Nic to hold but his tongue and his breath, as
he stepped on to the rugged wood in the black darkness, for the
moonbeams were shut out now by the rocks, overhead, and then, as he took
step for step behind his companion, so close to him that he kept kicking
his heels, he felt the difference underfoot for a few paces and the tree
trunk yield and give a little in an elastic way. Then all at once the
character of the path was changed, and Nic felt the hard rock beneath
his feet.

"Is that deep?" he said, rather huskily.

"Well, with what we've got not far away we don't call that deep. It's
on'y a sort o' crack like. 'Bout hundred and fifty foot, say."

"A hundred and fifty feet!" cried Nic, with an involuntary shiver.

"Somewheres about that," said Samson coolly. "But you wouldn't hurt
yourself if you went down, for there's a good depth o' water in the
pool. But you'd get strange and wet."

Nic drew in a deep breath.

"There--it's all good going now, sir: