(Continued from page 111.)

When at last Alan and Marjorie had turned their steps homeward from the cave, and had climbed the greater number of the rough steps, they came quite unexpectedly upon a most important discovery—one which, without their lamps, would have entirely escaped their attention.

They had reached a sort of landing, when Alan, looking keenly at the rocks, suddenly perceived a narrow opening, almost entirely concealed behind a projecting spur of limestone. Calling to Marjorie, who was in advance of him, and already some way up the last flight of steps, he held his lamp high, and examined the gap till she joined him.

'There is something more than a mere attempt at a cave here,' he said. 'We must see what it is.'

'It's very late,' hesitated Marjorie, doubtfully. 'If we are asked where we have been, what shall we say? All our secrets will come out, and then good-bye to all fun.'

'Oh, this won't take us long,' returned Alan, who did not intend to give up investigations just as he appeared to be on the verge of scoring the greatest success of the day.

As it turned out, it was fortunate indeed that the quest was not given up, for something happened only a few days later which made their discoveries of the utmost importance.

The narrow cleft led them, after some winding, into a comparatively wide passage, into which the daylight was streaming through a great opening to the right. In some excitement they ran to look out, and found, to their delight, that they were standing at the hole in the cliff which they had seen from the beach in Smugglers' Bay. Sure enough, there was the stream of water flowing at their side which made the thin cascade.

'I do believe we are in the passage which leads to the ruined summer-house!' cried Marjorie, breathlessly.

Alan was for trying it at once, but here Marjorie's counsels did prevail. She pointed out how low the sun was, and that probably they were very late for the schoolroom tea already.

'Right you are,' said Alan, looking longingly up and down the passage and walls, which stretched away into deep but—to him—alluring gloom. 'We will come again to-morrow. We must slip away directly after breakfast; and mind we don't let anybody see or follow us. It will be a feather in our caps if we can get into the ruined summer-house without troubling old Peet for the key.'

'But,' said Marjorie, after a long pause, during which she was thinking deeply, 'what if Thomas knows of this way in?'

'He can't,' returned Alan, 'or he would have been before, and got all he wanted.'

'Then,' replied Marjorie, after another pause for thought, 'you may be sure there is some reason: something that prevents his going up the passage, and will prevent our going too. Thomas is sure to be up to all dodges.'

This idea was so distasteful to Alan that he required a good deal of persuasion before he gave up his determination to explore further. Marjorie did persuade him, nevertheless, but next morning he could not refrain from reproaches for having yielded to her. It turned out that Colonel De Bohun had some business to do in the neighbouring town of Matherton, and told Alan at breakfast that he was to go and see if Estelle would like a ride. He intended to take the three elder children with him.

'What a nuisance!' exclaimed Alan, as he and Marjorie stood a moment on the doorstep before he started off on his father's mission. 'Why should father have ordered the horses just to-day? We can't make an excuse either, for we are all supposed to be keen on riding. If only the horses could go dead lame for an hour or two!'

Marjorie sympathised, but there was no help for it. More provoking still, there appeared to be things for the children to do for the next two or three days. A large garden party for young people, given by Mrs. De Bohun, took up most of one day, the children being required to help in the preparations for the entertainment of their guests. A picnic with friends, to a distant ruin by the sea, fully filled another day, and it was not till these and a tennis party for children at Lord Gallway's were over, that a free afternoon left the brother and sister at liberty to carry out their plans.

They had intended to set off immediately after breakfast, but an exciting rumour had come that a strange vessel was to be seen hanging about in rather a suspicious way. The coastguard had been on the look-out, but the result of his investigations being as yet unknown, the Colonel asked the children if they would like to accompany him to the cliffs. The proposal was hailed with delight. The whole morning passed only too quickly in talking to the coastguard on duty, peeping through his telescope, and staring at the vessel. The sailor gave it as his opinion that it was a French boat, though something in the rig made him not quite positive. It cruised about in a queer manner, 'just as if she was on the watch for something,' as the man said. However, towards mid-day she drew out into the offing, and they saw her sails slowly disappearing below the horizon.

The excitement of this incident only died down in the children's minds when, after lunch, they started off for the Wilderness. Alan and Marjorie had other ideas concerning the ship, and were determined to watch for its return. There would be plenty of time for that after their search in the cave was over. Meantime it was certain that neither Estelle nor Georgie must be allowed to accompany them. Happily for all parties, Estelle had promised to read a new fairy story to Georgie, and had settled to go to the top of the ruined summer-house for the purpose.

The air was fresher there, and the shade of the trees seemed cooler than anywhere else on that hot August day. Estelle sat lazily comfortable on some rugs, her back against the coping, while Georgie stretched himself at full length on the iron seat close to her. Here Alan and Marjorie left them, feeling sure that Georgie would be asleep in the twinkling of an eye. They begged him, nevertheless, to keep that eye, as long as it was open, on Bootles, the fox-terrier. Georgie gave a lazy assent, without troubling himself to keep either eye on the dog. Estelle was quite as capable of attending to such matters as he. Accordingly, she it was who drew the dog to lie down near her, keeping a hand on his collar till Alan and Marjorie were out of sight. Alas! they little knew what would be the result of her care.

(Continued on page 123.)