ce of hanging directly over the ship. There was no mistaking the
danger now. In a few minutes more the ship was between walls of rock
three hundred feet high, drifting swiftly through a narrow channel of
deep and agitated water into a dark and dangerous cavern.

The ship passed in under full sail; the atmosphere changed and became
singularly oppressive; the very blood chilled; fear seized on all on
board, and men who a short time before were full of courage and strength
now became as helpless as children. The current was less rapid inside,
but the noise increased and became even more bewildering; while the
barometer would rise and fall quickly, and the compasses became
agitated under the influence of some strong magnetic disorder. Every few
minutes deep and rumbling sounds would break in the distance, roll along
the cavern, and echo and reecho through the great arches overhead. And
these would be succeeded by soft, flute-like voices, mingling in chorus.
The effect of this, in so dark and dungeon-like a place, where the
mighty hand of Nature had performed one of her wildest freaks, was
bewildering in the extreme, and gave wing to the strangest fancies.
Hardly a word was spoken; not a brace manned, nor a sheet touched. The
ship moved along as if directed by some unseen hand, for there was no
wind in that deep, dark cavern. Then the water became broken, and the
surface checkered with phosphoric lights, flitting and dancing, like so
many sprites on a revel. The arch overhead became covered with a pale
light, which seemed to struggle against the darkness; then stars, or
what appeared to be stars, were seen, as through a mist. Then they would
suddenly change into every variety of color, and reveal the existence of
massive columns of basaltic rock supporting the arch. Still the
distracting sounds were heard, but no order was given concerning the
ship, scarcely a word exchanged between the men. They felt that they
were drifting into some unknown sea, perhaps some place of enchantment,
where death was certain, and from whence nothing more would ever be
heard of them.

Could this be the mermaid's retreat of which the old captain had spoken,
and of which the natives on Queen Charlotte's Island had such a strange
superstition? Tite thought to himself. All the pleasant associations of
home, all that he loved there, and all that he had hoped for, now rose
up in his mind like a sweet and beautiful dream, only to be overshadowed
by th