eble to act as exhibitor of the cave, and his
son was deputed to lead the Queen forward. This was, of course, Lord
Shrewsbury's privilege, but he was in truth beholden to her fingers for
aid, as she walked eagerly forward, now and then accepting a little
help from John Eyre, but in general sure-footed and exploring eagerly
by the light of the numerous torches held by yeomen in the Eyre livery,
one of whom was stationed wherever there was a dangerous pass or a
freak of nature worth studying.

The magnificent vaulted roof grew lower, and presently it became
necessary to descend a staircase, which led to a deep hollow chamber,
shaped like a bell, and echoing like one. A pool of intensely black
water filled it, reflecting the lights on its surface, that only
enhanced its darkness, while there moved on a mysterious flat-bottomed
boat, breaking them into shimmering sparks, and John Eyre intimated
that the visitors must lie down flat in it to be ferried one by one
over a space of about fourteen yards.

"Your Majesty will surely not attempt it," said the Earl, with a
shudder.

"Wherefore not? It is but a foretaste of Charon's boat!" said Mary,
who was one of those people whose spirit of enterprise rises with the
occasion, and she murmured to Mary Seaton the line of Dante--

"Quando noi fermerem li nostri passi
Su la triate riviera a' Acheronte."

"Will your Majesty enter?" asked John Eyre. "Dr. Jones and some
gentlemen wait on the other side to receive you."

"Some gentlemen?" repeated Mary. "You are sure they are not Minos and
Rhadamanthus, sir? My obolus is ready; shall I put it in my mouth?"

"Nay, madam, pardon me," said the Earl, spurred by a miserable sense of
his duties; "since you will thus venture, far be it from me to let you
pass over until I have reached the other aide to see that it is fit for
your Majesty!"

"Even as you will, most devoted cavalier," said Mary, drawing back; "we
will be content to play the part of the pale ghosts of the unburied
dead a little longer. See, Mary, the boat sinks down with him and his
mortal flesh! We shall have Charon complaining of him anon."

"Your Highness gars my flesh grue," was the answer of her faithful Mary.

"Ah, ma mie! we have not left all hope behind. We can afford to smile
at the doleful knight, ferried o'er on his back, in duteous and loyal
submission to his task mistress. Child, Cicely, where art thou? Art
afraid to dare th