strange ways, formed either by the
settling or opening of the rock, or literally cut away by the rushing
water; and every step was made interesting by the weird shapes around,
formed by the dripping of water from the roof.

Earth there was none, the stalactites and stalagmitic formations were of
the cleanest stone, pale drab, cream, or ruddy from the solution of
iron; and at last, when they must have been walking, climbing, forcing
their way through narrow cracks, or crawling like lizards, for hours,
the boy stooped by a little pool of crystal water in the floor, and
said:

"Don't you think a bit o' bread and cheese would be nice, Master Mark?"

"Yes; that's what's the matter with me," cried the lad. "I was
beginning to feel poorly. It's because I did not have a proper
breakfast."

The next minute they had stuck their twice renewed candles in a crack in
the rock wall, and were seated upon a dry stalagmite looking like the
top of a gigantic mushroom, eating ravenously, and moistening their dry
food with copious draughts from the crystal pool. There was water, too,
below them, a low rushing gurgle announcing that they were still
following the course of the subterranean stream running through a wide
crevice in the floor.

"How much farther does it go, Dummy?"

The boy shook his head.

"May be for miles; but we'll see now, won't we?"

"Let's finish our eating first, and then see how we feel," said Mark.
"If we don't now, we will some other time. I say, if that water was not
running, how quiet it would be!"

"Yes," said Dummy, with his mouth full. "I don't think anybody was ever
here before."

"I suppose not," said Mark, looking round.

"Here, have some more of my cheese," said the boy. "You haven't got
none."

Mark nodded, and took the piece cut by the boy's pocket-knife, for it
improved the dry bread.

"It's some of yours," said Dummy, with a grin. "They give it me in the
kitchen."

Mark was looking round, and listening to the water.

"I say, Dummy, suppose there was to be a storm outside, and this place
filled up, we should be drowned."

"Never been no water along here, only drips," said the boy, examining
the floor. "No, there's never been any floods here."

"How do you know?"

"Been some mud or sand left," said the boy, scraping in a narrow chink
in the floor. "All hard stone."

"I suppose you're right; but we must be very deep down."

"No. I have been thinking, just as you have to