e
off convenient portions; and making a bag of his shirt by tying the
sleeves and neck, he was speedily staggering into the cavern with a
supply of fuel. He made two trips, flinging down the wood on the floor
of the gallery that overlooked the sea, and was returning for a third,
when his quick ear caught the dip of oars. He had barely time to lift
the seaweed curtain that veiled the entrance to the chasm, when the
Eaglehawk boat rounded the promontory. Burgess was in the stern-sheets,
and seemed to be making signals to someone on the top of the cliff. Rex,
grinning behind his veil, divined the manoeuvre. McNab and his party
were to search above, while the Commandant examined the gulf below.
The boat headed direct for the passage, and for an instant John Rex's
undaunted soul shivered at the thought that, perhaps, after all, his
pursuers might be aware of the existence of the cavern. Yet that was
unlikely. He kept his ground, and the boat passed within a foot of
him, gliding silently into the gulf. He observed that Burgess's usually
florid face was pale, and that his left sleeve was cut open, showing a
bandage on the arm. There had been some fighting, then, and it was not
unlikely that all his fellow-desperadoes had been captured! He chuckled
at his own ingenuity and good sense. The boat, emerging from the
archway, entered the pool of the Blow-hole, and, held with the full
strength of the party, remained stationary. John Rex watched Burgess
scan the rocks and eddies, saw him signal to McNab, and then, with much
relief, beheld the boat's head brought round to the sea-board.

He was so intent upon watching this dangerous and difficult operation
that he was oblivious of an extraordinary change which had taken place
in the interior of the cavern. The water which, an hour ago, had left
exposed a long reef of black hummock-rocks, was now spread in one
foam-flecked sheet over the ragged bottom of the rude staircase by which
he had descended. The tide had turned, and the sea, apparently sucked in
through some deeper tunnel in the portion of the cliff which was below
water, was being forced into the vault with a rapidity which bid fair to
shortly submerge the mouth of the cave. The convict's feet were already
wetted by the incoming waves, and as he turned for one last look at the
boat he saw a green billow heave up against the entrance to the chasm,
and, almost blotting out the daylight, roll majestically through the
arch. It was