passed his arm through that of his friend, took a
torch in his other hand, and passed into the depths of the grotto,
where we will follow him if our readers are not too weary of this long
session.

It was the first time that Valensolle, who came, as we have said,
from the neighborhood of Aix, had had occasion to visit the grotto of
Ceyzeriat, recently adopted as the meeting-place of the Companions of
Jehu. At the preceding meetings he had occasion to explore only the
windings and intricacies of the Chartreuse of Seillon, which he now knew
so well that in the farce played before Roland the part of ghost was
intrusted to him. Everything was, therefore, curious and unknown to him
in this new domicile, where he now expected to take his first sleep,
and which seemed likely to be, for some days at least, Morgan's
headquarters.

As is always the case in abandoned quarries--which, at the first glance,
partake somewhat of the character of subterranean cities--the different
galleries excavated by the removal of the stone end in a cul de sac;
that is to say, at a point in the mine where the work stops. One of
these streets seemed to prolong itself indefinitely. Nevertheless, there
came a point where the mine would naturally have ended, but there, in
the angle of the tunnelled way, was cut (For what purpose? The thing
remains a mystery to this day among the people of the neigbborhood) an
opening two-thirds the width of the gallery, wide enough, or nearly so,
to give passage to two men abreast.

The two friends passed through this opening. The air there became
so rarefied that their torch threatened to go out at every step.
Vallensolle felt drops of ice-cold water falling on his hands and face.

"Bless me," said he, "does it rain down here?"

"No," replied Morgan, laughing; "only we are passing under the
Reissouse."

"Then we are going to Bourg?"

"That's about it."

"All right; you are leading me; you have promised me supper and a bed,
so I have nothing to worry about--unless that light goes out," added the
young man, looking at the paling flame of the torch.

"That wouldn't matter; we can always find ourselves here."

"In the end!" said Valensolle. "And when one reflects that we are
wandering through a grotto under rivers at three o'clock in the morning,
sleeping the Lord knows where, with the prospect of being taken, tried,
and guillotined some fine morning, and all for princes who don't even
know our names, and who