dark."

"'Fraid, Master Mark? No: why should I be? Nothing to hurt you here."

"You're a queer fellow, Dummy," said Mark.

"Yes, master. That's what father says. I s'pose it's through being so
much in the mine."

"I suppose so. But you don't mind?"

"Mind, Master Mark? I like it. Wish you was at home more, though.--I
say--"

"Well?"

"If ever you go to fight the Darleys, take me, Master Mark."

"I shall not go to fight the Darleys, Dummy. They may come to fight us,
and if they do, you shall come and help."

"Hah!" ejaculated the rough-looking boy. "I'm pretty strong now. If
they come and meddle with us, do you know what I should like to do,
Master Mark."

"No: hammer them, I suppose."

"Nay; I should like to drive 'em all down to the place I'm going to show
you."

"Well, where is it?"

"Oh, ever so far yet. 'N'our away."

Mark whistled in surprise.

"Not tired, are you, sir?"

"Tired? No; but I didn't think you could go so far."

"Oh yes, you can, sir, if you don't mind crawling a bit now and then.
You can go miles and miles where the stone's split apart. I think it's
all cracks under the hills."

"On you go, then; but don't you want a candle?"

"No, sir; I can see best like this, with you holding the light behind."

Mark relapsed into silence, and his guide remained silent too, and went
on and on, along passages formed by the busy miners of the past, in
following the lode of lead, and along ways that were nature's work.

At last, fully an hour after Dummy had announced how far they had to go,
he stopped short, took a candle, lit it, and looked smilingly at Mark,
who gazed round the natural cavern in which they were, and then turned
to his guide.

"Well," he said, "is this it? Not much of a place. I thought you said
it went farther."

"So it does, Master Mark. Shut your eyes while you count a hundred."

Mark obeyed, and counted his hundred aloud, opened his eyes again, and
he was alone.

"Here! Where are you?" he cried; and he looked about the place, up and
down, but to all appearances, he was in a _cul de sac_, whose walls were
dotted with the fossil stems of _pentacrinites_, over which stalagmitic
petrifaction had gradually formed, looking as if dirty water had run
over the walls in places, and hardened in the course of time to stone.

"Here, Dummy! Haven't run back, have you?" shouted Mark, as it occurred
to him that should the boy have played him a trick, he woul