e black river?"

"No, madam, not with you on the other side, and my father to follow me."

"Well said. Let the maiden follow next after me. Or mayhap Master
Eyre should come next, then the young lady. For you, my ladies, and
you, good sirs, you are free to follow or not, as the fancy strikes
you. So--here is Charon once more--must I lie down?"

"Ay, madam," said Eyre, "if you would not strike your head against
yonder projecting rock."

Mary lay down, her cloak drawn about her, and saying, "Now then, for
Acheron. Ah! would that it were Lethe!"

"Her Grace saith well," muttered faithful Jean Kennedy, unversed in
classic lore, "would that we were once more at bonnie Leith. Soft
there now, 'tis you that follow her next, my fair mistress."

Cicely, not without trepidation, obeyed, laid herself flat, and was
soon midway, feeling the passage so grim and awful, that she could
think of nothing but the dark passages of the grave, and was shuddering
all over, when she was helped out on the other side by the Queen's own
hand.

Some of those in the rear did not seem to be similarly affected, or
else braved their feelings of awe by shouts and songs, which echoed
fearfully through the subterranean vaults. Indeed Diccon, following
the example of one or two young pages and grooms of the Earl's, began
to get so daring and wild in the strange scene, that his father became
anxious, and tarried for him on the other side, in the dread of his
wandering away and getting lost, or falling into some of the fearful
dark rivers that could be heard--not seen--rushing along. By this
means, Master Richard was entirely separated from Cicely, to whom,
before crossing the water, he had been watchfully attending, but he
knew her to be with the Queen and her ladies, and considered her
natural timidity the best safeguard against the chief peril of the
cave, namely, wandering away.

Cicely did, however, miss his care, for the Queen could not but be
engrossed by her various cicerones and attendants, and it was no one's
especial business to look after the young girl over the rough descent
to the dripping well called Roger Rain's House, and the grand
cathedral-like gallery, with splendid pillars of stalagmite, and
pendants above. By the time the steps beyond were reached, a toilsome
descent, the Queen had had enough of the expedition, and declined to go
any farther, but she good-naturedly yielded to the wish of Master John
Eyre and Dr. Jones,