then it disappeared in the purple
gloom; and it was only by listening to the pat-pat of its hoofs on the
stone that Saxe could satisfy himself that it was going forward, and
that there was no dangerous fall awaiting him.

Then the goat bleated again, and _crick_, _crack_, _crash_, came the
sound of pieces of ice striking the walls and floor. The goat came
bounding back, followed by another piece of ice, which broke close to
Saxe's feet, as he turned and took flight once more.

"Hullo!--back! Why, you look scared, boy!"

"There is ice falling or flying out."

Dale laughed; and this put the boy upon his mettle, as he now argued
with himself that help was very near.

"I want the lanthorn," he said aloud.

"What for?"

"To go and see what it is."

"That's right. Give him the lanthorn, Melchior. We'll follow him
directly."

The guide swung the lanthorn round from where it hung at his belt,
detached it, lit it; and, with the confidence afforded by the light,
Saxe grasped his ice-axe firmly, and walked right in, preceded once more
by the goat.

The mingling of the light with the amethystine gloom had a very
beautiful effect, as the former flashed from the surface of the walls
and made the ice glitter; but Saxe had no eyes then for natural
beauties. He could think of nothing but the flying lumps of ice, and,
oddly enough, the remembrance of the horrible head which he had seen in
the night now came strongly back.

But he went on, and, if not boldly, at any rate with a fixed
determination to see the adventure to the end.

Saxe was able to penetrate farther this time, with the goat pattering on
before him; and to show that there was no fancy in the matter, the light
flashed from some broken fragments of ice lying close beside the rushing
stream. But though he held the lanthorn high above his head, he could
see nothing, only the dim arch, the line of shining water, and the pale
stony floor.

Just ahead, though, the stream took a sudden bend round to the left, and
the dry portion of the stone taking the same direction, Saxe went on,
involuntarily raising his axe as if there might be danger round beyond
that bend where the ice projected like a buttress.

He was close upon it now, and, holding the light well up with his left
hand, he was in the act of turning the corner, when something moved out
of the darkness on the other side, and Saxe stood once more petrified
with horror as the light fell upon the huge fa