g to reach my back with this cane
for some minutes, when, just as he was about to aim a cruel blow, I
disappeared from his sight.

The good man had not much time for astonishment; for the next instant
the earth opened beneath him, and he too fell head foremost, from
depth to depth, as I had done, wondering in which part of the lower
world we should alight.

On reaching the bottom, we found ourselves in total darkness.

"O me! O me!" groaned the worthy man; "I am d----d--dead and d----d!
there is no doubt of it. Wo to my sinful soul! The good priest always
warned me not to swear, or the devil would carry me away; and now he
has me--with the guilt of meditated murder on my soul, too! Oh! Heaven
be merciful to my sinful soul, and I will never swear again, nor
poach! I will pay the priest's tithes, as much as is due, and give my
daughter to her lover--only let me be saved from perdition!"

The good man trembled like a jelly, firmly believing he was at least
in the vestibule of purgatory. Meantime, I had a good opportunity of
hearing his resolutions of amendment; and plainly enough, too, for we
had both fallen into the same wolf's trap, full twelve feet under
ground, and were thus in tolerably good arrest for the present.

I began to reflect that although I had escaped one danger, I had
probably fallen into another not less alarming; for, if a troop of
wolves came tumbling in upon us, our resurrection would certainly be
divested of all fleshly encumbrances.

However, it was no use to be afraid. One thing was certain: if the
wolves came they would devour us, and if they did not come they would
not devour us; but in either case, fear was useless. And, consoling
myself with this argument, I took my pipe and tobacco-pouch from my
pocket--for the pit was filled with innumerable gnats.

"Mercy on my sinful soul!" roared my uncle, starting up as he saw the
light of my pipe in the darkness.

Of course I sat as still as a hare, determined to let him tremble a
little longer; but, in the excess of his despair, he hit me such a
kick with his spurred foot, that I was under the necessity of
addressing him.

"Don't be uneasy, uncle," I exclaimed; "it is certainly an unfortunate
occurrence, but you need not break your neighbour's bones."

"Nephew!" cried my uncle, in a voice of joy, "Nephew Peti! are you
here too? are we alive? or where are we both, and how came we here?"

"Just as the rain comes from heaven, uncle, without a l