azed into the mysterious darkness beyond the pool. "I must
explore this place to the end, one of these days. The chief boatman
waded through, and reported yet another passage beyond; but of course I
wouldn't let my men waste time in exploring it. What a place for seals,
hey?"

"Seals?" queried the Commandant.

"Leggo gave me a sort of description of the place on our way here. He
tells me that this cave and the next are a favourite haunt of the seals
when they visit the Islands. In fact, he used to hunt them here with
his father. But of late years, for some reason, they have given the
Islands the go-by."

"You think it possible," suggested the Commandant, "Sir Caesar may have
seen one, and taken a shot at it?"

"That's not likely; and anyway it doesn't help us. It won't account for
his gun being found in the bushes, half-way down the cliff, nor for his
disappearing. Among a deal that's mysterious, this much is clear: Leggo
left him on the cliff above us; within twenty minutes Sir Caesar's gun
went off, whether fired by himself or by someone else; and whether
wounded or not, he slid down the cliff and over the ledge above the
cave. His body is not in the cave; therefore, presumably, it was sucked
out to sea by the time, and presumably has been carried somewhere to
the westward. Shall we turn back?"

The Commandant nodded. "You will have plenty of folk to help your
search," said he, "to judge from the number of boats we passed on our
way. By spreading your forces, in less than two hours you can have the
whole shore examined, from here to the west of Brefar. By the way, who
has possession of Sir Caesar's gun?"

"It was passed up to Sam Leggo, on the cliff. But if you wish to take
charge of it----"

"It will probably be wanted for evidence."

"Come, then." Mr. Rogers led the way back to the entrance, and called
up an order to have the gun lowered by a shore-line; which was done,
the coast guardsmen on the cliffs fending the line clear of the bushes,
and so passing it from one to another until it dangled over the ledge
within grasp. The Commandant, as the taller, reached up for the gun,
took it, and examined it by the light of the lantern which Mr. Rogers
held for him.

The gun was undoubtedly the Lord Proprietor's; a breechloader of
curiously fine workmanship, bearing the name of a famous St. James'
Street maker. Of the hammers, one was down, the other at half-cock;
and, pulling open the breech, the Commandant dr