lap Pearson's Xane 



" Can I have a lantern ? " 



" Yes, but don't smash it." 



" Are you coming ? " I asked of my com- 

 panion. 



" Not much," he replied, emphatically. " I '11 

 go back to the spring-house." 



The feeble rays of the smoky lantern availed 

 little against the darkness. It seemed as if no 

 daylight had been here since 1737, when the cel- 

 lar was dug, and that year after year the darkness 

 had thickened, so that now you waded through a 

 condensation of gloom. It pressed upon you and 

 fought the lantern's feeble flame until it dwindled 

 to a pale red spark. By looking backwards I 

 could see the steps down which I had come, 

 so I was not lost, and I knew that this hole in the 

 ground had narrow metes and bounds. The old 

 man was right ; there was in it rubbish and noth- 

 ing else. By dint of much feeling about, and 

 casting occasional rays of light upon objects in 

 reach, I made out, in one corner, what appeared 

 to be part of a cheese-press, of itself of no mo- 

 ment, but there was a bit of an old book in it, and 

 this I pocketed. Then on and on from corner to 

 corner, but nothing strange or wonderful was 

 found. Old garrets of late had become common- 

 place, and I had been hoping much from cellars 

 as promising new hunting grounds. It was very 

 provoking. As I neared the door I noticed a 

 slight break in the wall, with what seemed the neck 

 190 



