lle, mystified.

He made no answer. He could not tell her that if one person had already
lost his life through his means he had saved another's life, which, but
for him, must have perished. He was not at all clear himself on the
merits of the case; neither was it one to discuss with a child.

'Come and see the last of these caves,' he said, rousing himself. 'It is
called the Mermaid's Cave, perhaps because it is the prettiest of them
all. It has an echo you may like to hear.'

A very narrow passage connected the Cave of the Silver Sand with the
Mermaid's Cave, and a pool of water filled it which reached to Jack's
knees. Before entering it, Jack lighted a candle-end he had brought in
his pocket, and put it into Estelle's hand.

'Hold it up high as we go along,' he said. 'I shall have to carry you;
the water is too deep for you to wade through, but the cave is worth
seeing as we step into it.'

And so it was. Estelle uttered a cry of delight as its beauties broke
upon her. The roof was white with stalactites of the strangest and
weirdest shapes, which reflected the light of the candle from their wet
surfaces. A stream of water was flowing silently down one side of the
sandy floor and into the pool they had crossed, which Jack told her was
called the 'Rift.'

'I'll show you one of the wonders of this cave,' he said, as he drew her
to one side. 'Now listen.'

In a clear, rich voice he sang a few notes, and in a moment a burst of
harmony broke out, full and grand as the organ in a cathedral. The sweet
tones echoed among the stalactites, lingering as if loth to die.

Estelle gasped. She had never heard anything like it. 'Again, again!'
she whispered.

Once more the sailor's rich voice rang through the silent caves, and
once more the echoes took up the chord in a flood of melody which,
surged over their heads as the little girl and the sailor stood
motionless, listening till the last tones trembled into silence. Even
then they did not speak for some moments.

'I could listen to it for ever,' said Estelle, drawing a deep breath.

'We must not stay for any more now,' replied Jack. 'The tide will soon
be on the turn, so we must move to the tune of homeward bound. _We_ may
be late--the tide will _not_ be.'

'Will you sing to me some day?' begged the little girl, as she was
carried through the Rift into the Cave of the Silver Sand. 'You have
such a good voice.'

'That's as may be, Missie. I haven't much heart for si