ten of little avail. I
did pay attention to it, and my spirits drooped.

The tunnel into the glacier spur had now attained considerable length,
and the ice in the interior was found to be of a much finer quality than
that first met with, which was of a grayish hue and somewhat inclined to
crumble. When the workmen reached a grade of ice as good as they could
expect, they began to enlarge the tunnel into a chamber, and from this
they proposed to extend tunnels in various directions after the fashion
of a coal-mine. The ice was hauled out on sledges through the tunnel and
then carried up a wooden railway to the mouth of the shaft.

It was comparatively easy to walk down the shaft and enter the tunnel,
and when it happened that the men were not at work I allowed visitors
to go down and view this wonderful ice-cavern. The walls of the chamber
appeared semi-transparent, and the light of the candles or lanterns gave
the whole scene a weird and beautiful aspect. It was almost possible
to imagine one's self surrounded by limpid waters, which might at any
moment rush upon him and ingulf him.

Every day or two Tom Burton came with a party of scientific visitors,
and had I chosen to stop the work of taking out ice, admitted the public
and charged a price for admission, I might have made almost as much
money as I at that time derived from the sale of the ice. But such a
method of profit was repugnant to me.

For several days after Susan's communication to me I worked on in my
various operations, endeavoring to banish from my mind the idle nonsense
she had spoken of; but one of its effects upon me was to make me feel
that I ought not to allow hopes so important to rest upon uncertainties.
So I determined that as soon as my house and grounds should be in a
condition with which I should for the time be satisfied, I would go
boldly to Mr. Havelot, and, casting out of my recollection everything
that Susan had said, invite him to visit me and see for himself the
results of the discovery of which he had spoken with such derisive
contempt. This would be a straightforward and business-like answer to
his foolish objections to me, and I believed that in his heart the old
gentleman would properly appreciate my action.

About this time there came to my place Aaron Boyce, an elderly farmer of
the neighborhood, and, finding me outside, he seized the opportunity to
have a chat with me.

"I tell you what it is, Mr. Cuthbert," said he, "the pe