I hope not," said Jack quietly. "But listen, Ned; can you hear the
blacks?"

"Hear 'em! No, sir. My ears seem full of the shrieks and cries of
those things as they tore out of the place, and you would stick out that
they were bats. Phew, can't you smell 'em?"

"Yes, plainly enough; but it was not the bats made those noises, it must
have been the blacks."

"No, no, sir, it was those horrid things. I felt 'em hitting me with
their wings as they swooped by."

"Nonsense, nonsense. They were scared by the noise of the stones
falling, and the echoes, and it seems to me that they scared the blacks
as well as us, and they have run out again."

"What!" cried Ned. "You don't mean that, Mr Jack?"

"But I do. Ned, they've gone."

"Well! and I was only just before thinking that I was getting over being
so shaky and nervous, and not so queer about myself, and then for me to
break down like that. Of all the cowardly cranks I ever did come
across! Oh, I say, Mr Jack, sir, ain't you ashamed of me?"

"I'm quite as ashamed of myself, Ned. I don't know who could help being
frightened; my heart's beating tremendously still. But they've gone,
Ned, I feel sure."

"Well, I believe they have, sir, 'pon my word. But I say, Mr Jack,
sir, don't be offended at what I say."

"Of course not. Say it quick."

"It's on'y this, sir; are you the same young gent as sailed with us from
Dartmouth a short time ago? because you cap me."

"Here, give me your hand," cried Jack. "No; stop. Don't move. You
might slip. Can't we get a light?"

"Light, sir? Yes; of course. I've got a little box of wax matches in
my pocket."

There was a faint rustling sound in the darkness, and then Ned uttered a
groan.

"Lost them?"

"No, sir; here they are, but I forgot about the rain last night. They
must be all soaked and spoiled."

"Try one."

"Yes, sir, I'll try. But I say, Mr Jack, this is like being in a mine,
and it must be fiery, as they call it, being so hot. Will there be any
danger of an explosion from gas?"

"Oh, surely not. This isn't a coal-mine, but a sort of grotto under a
flow of lava. Try if one of them will light."

"All right, sir. I say, they rattle all right, as if they were hard."

The box clicked as Ned opened it; he took out a match, rubbed it
sharply, and there was a faint line of phosphorescent light.

"No go, sir; just like one of them fishy things we get alongside."

"Try another."

_Whisk_--_cr