began, accompanied by a display of flowery little
sparks. At the end of a minute the frowning face of the smuggler was
lit up as he blew softly at the tinder, into which a spark had fallen
and caught; the light increased, and as a brimstone match was applied to
the incandescent tinder, the brimstone melted, bubbled, and began to
turn blue. Then the splint of wood beneath began to burn, and at last
emitted a blaze, which was communicated to the wick of the candle.
This, too, began to burn, and then the door of the lanthorn was closed.

"There we are," said the smuggler. "Now let's go and see our bird."

Aleck made no reply, for his eyes were wandering over all that the
feeble light of the dim horn lanthorn threw up; and very little though
this was at a time, it was enough to fill the lad with wonder. For as
far as he could make out, they were in a vast cavern, whose floor about
where they stood supported stacks of kegs and piles of boxes and bales.
There was also a tremendous collection of wood, the most part being
evidently the gatherings of wrecks, and in addition there were the
fittings of vessel after vessel, so various in fact that Aleck hurriedly
turned away his eyes, to gaze with something like a shiver at the
reflection of the lanthorn in a far-stretching mirror of intense
blackness which lay smooth and undisturbed, save in one part away to his
left, where it was blurred and dimmed, rising and falling as if moved by
some undercurrent.

"Water," he said, at last, as the smuggler raised up his lanthorn and
smiled.

"Yes, and plenty of it."

"But where's the mouth of the cave?"

"Over yonder," said the man, pointing towards where the surface was in
motion.

"Let's walk towards it with the lanthorn," said Aleck.

"Why, my lad?"

"I want to see the daylight again."

"But we couldn't get far along there with the tide up, and even if we
could you wouldn't see the mouth of the cave."

"Why not?" asked Aleck.

"Because it's under water."

"Never mind; hold up the lanthorn, and let me see what I can."

"Then I'd better hide it or shut it," said Eben, and, setting the
lanthorn down upon the rocky floor, he slipped off his rough jacket and
covered the lanthorn so that not a ray of light could be seen escaping
through the panes of thinly-scraped horn.

To the lad's wonderment, no sooner was the lanthorn hidden than instead
of the place being intensely dark, it was lit up by a soft translucent
twilight