How long I was dead I can not say. It seemed like death, and I shall ever feel that I have tasted of that other life which will be my portion now before many years have passed away. I will not weary you, Adoniah, with the experiences that seemed to be mine—the years in which I seemed to be floating through space. We will pass over the dreams and return to the stern reality.

My first return to consciousness was to feel a strange sensation in my fingers. I seemed to be in a cramp. I tried to stretch out my foot, but I had no power over my muscles. It seemed as if my extremities were swollen to twice their size. I tried to feel for the side of my bunk. If I were in the Yankee Blade, it seemed so strange that there was no motion. We were in port, then! If so, why had I not been on deck to take my place on the fo'c'sl? What was that gasping, sighing sound that fell on my ear? It must be the water sobbing against the sides of the old barco. I tried again to move my foot. Again there was no result, but a seasick motion of my body, a faint clink, as of metal. I endeavoured to open my eyes. The lids were closed as if glued together. If I could but get my hand up and pull at the lids. Suddenly it came back to me. I was shut up in the devil's cavern, and the tarantula and serpent were making in a straight line for my helpless body. I was one of that deathly row of counterfeits which hung against the damp wall of the cave. I was alone with the dead, myself a corpse, shut off from human kind forever.

As these thoughts jumbled chaotically through my mind, I turned my eyes to the floor beneath. The light had grown so dim, and the smoke of the oil so filled the cave, that it almost obscured my vision. I remember thinking if those fearful enemies were to strike, I hoped that they would not long delay. I was so tired, so tired. Let death come quickly and end it all. But would death end it soon? Would there not be suffering, the more intense from the poison of those denizens of the cavern than if my life were to slowly ebb away for want of food? I suddenly bore downward with all my weight. The band round my neck was tight. Perhaps I could choke myself. But beyond a sensation as of suffocation, there was no answer from the friend on whom I called. Death did not reply. Had those ruffians killed my friends, and was I to hang here as he had hung who had been removed to make room for me? Was I to be left to linger and rot, the flesh to drop from my bones, the threads of my clothing to fall in dust heaps around me? I tried to shout, but my tongue was swollen and filled my mouth. If I had been dead for so long, why had not the tarantula come closer to my helpless frame. Perhaps they would not touch the dead. I struggled, my cage swayed and struck against the walls of my open coffin. I tried to spring up or down to make my weight drop heavily on one side or the other. Perhaps the cage thus might fall. Even if it killed me in so falling, such death were welcome. The cage might burst asunder. Strange things of the kind had happened. I had heard many tales of adventure, but nothing more wonderful than this which had come to me. Why, then, should not this incredible tale be carried on to the end? Why should not my cage burst open and set me free, even if my friends were captured or dead? Oh, for life! Only life! That was all that I asked. Only that God would set me free. I have made many bargains with God and have seldom kept my contract. Man when in straits is prone to tempt his Creator into making a bargain with him, promising on his part the relinquishment of this sin, that weakness, the doing of that good or the other charity, if God will only surrender his plan and let man act the part of Providence for a while. I can not understand, with the doctrine of foreordination imbedded in the very fibres of my being, how God did really change any portion of his plans for me. But I wanted to be Providence for a little. So I prayed and promised, and it seemed that he heard me. He kept his side of the compact, and I have broken mine a hundred times.

The fitful gusts of wind blew through the cavern and rattled the dry forms hanging near, and blew the air from them to me. But they also brought to me the sound of voices. God bless them, whosever those voices might be! They meant human companionship and hope. The chamber was very dark, but I heard steps which groped and stumbled as they came. There was a shout. It was the Skipper's voice, but I could not answer him. "He is not here," I heard him say. O my God! would they go away and leave me? Thank Heaven, that was not their purpose. I heard a fumbling, and flashes of light shot out; then all was dark again. And then they had come to the centre of the cave and had lighted the lamp. At first, the Skipper did not discover where I hung. I heard an exclamation, and saw that he was regarding something almost beneath his foot. I turned my burning eyes to the spot from which he had sprung, and saw that my two enemies had met and had given battle. The serpent, swollen to three times its natural size, was coiled round its enemy, out of which it had crushed the life, receiving each one the death that it gave. And now that the tarantula and serpent were dead, and the Skipper had come, and the lamp was again lighted, I seemed to have nothing more to worry about, and so I fainted.

When I awoke I was lying on the ground, my head wet with water, my neck and collar soaked with the rum which the Minion had tried to pour between my clinched teeth. He was still endeavouring to reach my stomach by the outside passage. I certainly think that a gallon of rum had been poured down my neck—in fact, I was bathed in that potent liquor, which probably saved me from taking an ague.

"Suz! suz! suz!" growled the Captain. He clicked with his tongue like an old woman, as your Aunt Mary 'Zekel used to.

"You, Minion, run and tell the Bo's'n to come here at once!"

"Did," answered the Minion.

"Doesn't he intend to obey my orders any more?" asked the Captain. "He's in my pay."

"How?" inquired the Minion.

"That's so!" said the Captain. "I s'pose he saw a serpent or something in here. Got a mark or something, 't makes him to act so. How'd ye find the Mate, boy?"

"Lookin' for somepun," answered the Minion, in the longest sentence that I had ever heard him utter.

I felt kindly hands busied about me. It was so delightful that I lay there just to be taken care of. I felt the Captain unclasping those rusty catches and saying his "Suz! suz! suz!" over and over.

"Think o' bein' triced up and left for dead!" commented the Captain.

"'Tain't bad," I heard the Minion answer. "Pirates is fine."

"'Tain't bad, ain't it?" said the Skipper. "Why, boy, hell's a garden party to it; that's what it is, a garden party, hell is. Look there on the deck! See where those beasts were fightin' for the first bite of the Mate. Why in thunder don't this fellow come to?"

"Dead," said the Minion laconically. I promptly shuddered and opened my eyes. I did not say what every fainting or resuscitated man says when he first opens his eyes. Usually they ask, "Where am I?" I knew where I was, so I gasped, "Water!"

Upon this, action being easier and more agreeable than words to the Minion, he ran to the bowl and redeluged me with liquor.

"The lad," said I, partly raising myself on my elbow.

"Think he's dead, anyway. You come first, Jones. Now we'll try what we can do for him."

I heard them go to the niche next my own and work over the lad's ingenious contrivance.

"Hold him up!" I heard the Skipper say. "Push back! push back!" Then there was the sound of the working of tools, and finally I knew that they had released my companion. I was now sitting up, and watched all their motions. The Minion bent over young Trevelyan, pushing the Skipper aside, who as promptly kicked him halfway across the cave.

"When I want your help, I'll ask for it," remarked the Skipper, which I thought rather ungrateful. "You don't know anything about this devilish contrivance."

The Minion, not at all abashed, nodded violently.

"How do you know?"

"Saw 'em."

"When?"

"Me and the lady."

So it was "the lady's" shriek that I had heard as they were riveting my cage to the top of the arch.

"What lady? My niece?"

The Minion nodded.

"Who brought her? You?"

The Minion nodded again.

"You fool!" roared the Skipper. "Get out of my sight! Do you know you've driven her raring, staring, stark mad?"

The Minion nodded again, as if such happenings were of daily occurrence. I smiled placidly. I suppose the contented smile which settled over my features seemed somewhat conceited to the Skipper.

"Oh, you needn't grin, so mighty pleased and all," said the Skipper to me. "My niece never could bear to look at suffering. It wasn't you she was worrying about. It would be just the same about any one." I looked crestfallen probably, but I managed to gasp out a few words.

"How did you find me?" I said.

"Well, good Lord! don't wonder you ask. This young devil wouldn't have troubled himself to tell. My niece couldn't tell. She was stark, staring, raving mad! Crazy! Is now, for that matter! The Bo's'n has run away, the Lord knows where! He came tearin' into the cave, long before those devils left, a-shoutin', 'The serpent! the serpent!' Probably saw one. Queer man to stay in the woods." I thought that the solution of the Bo's'n's action lay in the fact that, like a historical gentleman named Hobson, the Bo's'n, as well as ourselves, had no choice.

The Minion had stolen near again, and was busy with the cage, and soon they rolled the young English lad out of his tomb and on to the dusty rock floor.

"You go and see how my niece is, do you hear? And see if you can get Lazy to come back for a minute with you."

The Minion sped away on mercury feet, and I crawled to the Skipper's assistance. Together we released the lad and made him comfortable. I will not weary you with details. Suffice it to say that, after we had given him some of the liquor, he sat up, dazed, it is true, but thankful. He did not speak, but I saw that his cheek was wet. He was little more than a child, and it would have taken a much stouter heart than his to suffer what he had suffered and make no sign. I arose unsteadily to my feet and tried to aid the lad; but the Skipper told me to go on ahead, saying that he would support young Trevelyan. As we dragged ourselves to the entrance of the chamber, we met the Minion coming in.

"How is she?" asked the Skipper anxiously. I was no less so. I gazed on him with bated breath.

"Dead——" drawled the boy.

The Skipper staggered against the wall of the cavern, throwing young Trevelyan to the floor.

"Faint," said the Minion, completing his sentence. I was weak, but I raised my foot and gave the young villain a vicious kick.

"Ain't to yet," added he, as he was propelled toward the opening.

"Hold your jaw!" roared the Skipper. And then to me: "I want to get back to her, Jones. Help me, if you can."

He then turned to the Minion. "You go back and put out that light, do you hear?" said he.

I have spent too long a time over these incidents, but it is no slight thing to have been to the gates of death in such company, and its dread experiences will remain with me while life shall last. I followed the Skipper and his young charge over and down the hill, and, finding the opening, I entered. It was early morning now, and I easily discovered the archway. It was black as ever inside, but I pushed through the passage and, on entering our chamber, came face to face with the Bo's'n. He started when he saw me.

"What about Miss Archer?" said I.

"Is it really you, sir?" asked the Bo's'n.

"Of course it is. Where is she?"

The Bo's'n nodded toward the pillars at the back of the cave, and then looked at me scrutinizingly.

"They didn't get you, then, did they, sir?"

"Yes, they got me fast enough," said I.

"Oh, the pirates! Yes, sir. But they didn't get you. I mean the——"

The man fell a-trembling, his face turned ghastly pale.

"What under heaven do you mean, Bo's'n?" asked I.

"I can not talk of it," he said. "I saw them open that hole before they left. When you ran from the gallery, I ran, too, but my curiosity was too great for me, and I sneaked back to the gallery. I saw 'em bring you in, sir, and I'd have tried to rescue you, Mr. Jones, but suddenly I saw those——"

The man shook as if with an ague.

"You mean the tarantula and the——"

"Don't mention the name, sir, don't! It's uncanny, sir! After that, sir, I couldn't return. You don't blame——"

"You're no use at all, Bo's'n. You might better have gone with the pirates. Where are they, by the way?"

"Gone," said the Bo's'n, with a return of his confident tone. "Gone like the morning dew."

I looked at him in amazement as he stretched his arm toward the latticed opening and waved it toward the sea.

I remembered hearing the Skipper speak of the Bo's'n as "that dam poetry cuss!" What a broken reed he was! The Skipper came slowly into the cave now, upholding and almost carrying the young English lad, and we turned our attention to him.

Lacelle came also from the back just then, and I asked her how Cynthia was. She answered what sounded like "No compre," which the Bo's'n translated as meaning "No comprehendy," and I suppose he was right. I never was much of a hand at foreign languages.

The Skipper went into his niece's room. He came back, looking very mournful. He shook his head sadly.

"She don't move," said he. "She lays there just so."

"It's that dam Minion," said the Bo's'n, "begging your pardon, sir. He took her on what he called a voyage. I suppose he meant of discovery. I heard her shriek way in here, and then the two came runnin', and I believe she's been so ever sence."

The Captain went to the window and parted the screen of leaves boldly. He saw me start, So short a time does it take for a habit to become fixed that it seemed to me as if we must still be cautious about the strangers below.

"Oh, you needn't be so terrible afraid!" said the Skipper. "They went out in the night. There was lots of firing. I shouldn't wonder if something attacked 'em. We heard a great whooping, and they rushed right down the hill, as if some of those ghosts was after 'em. They scrambled into their boats in a mighty hurry, and we saw the flash of the powder as they fired, and then we saw two ships racing out to sea. One was running away from the other. Don't know which, but, thank God, they're gone!"

"Yes, thank God!" said I.

"Did that dam' ghost fellow show you the way in again?" asked the Skipper.

"No," said I.

"Did me! I'm gettin' a little tired of him. Think I'll shoot next time he comes round."

"You might create a ghost instead of getting rid of one," said I warningly. "I don't think I'd shoot him. He seems a very kindly disposed ghost. He has done us only favours thus far."

"That's so," said the Skipper. "Don't you want some rest?"

In answer I stretched myself upon the ground. Although it was early morning, there was little or no light in the cave. Seeing me lie down, the Bo's'n said that while I took a rest he would prepare some food.

"I can go down the hill now, Mr. Jones, sir. There is nothing to fear." I was weary in mind and body, and I turned over to lay my head upon my arm. As I did so there came a faint sound as of a footstep, and I saw Cynthia approaching. She seemed like herself. She walked with her eyes open, and advanced with confidence. I arose to my feet at once.

"Are you better?" I asked.

"S-h-h-h!" said the Skipper, his warning finger upraised.

Cynthia started at the sound of my voice, put her hand to her head, rubbed her eyes and opened them. They fell upon my face. A smile of recognition overspread her features as she raised her eyes to mine, when a shout of terror filled the chamber. It came from the Bo's'n. The others sprang up, and with me followed with their gaze the direction of his pointed finger. We each, I think, emitted a sound of some kind, all but the English lad, who was still sleeping.

I can see the Bo's'n now, his hair standing on end, his arms raised across his forehead. Cynthia fell back into my arms and pinioned me against the wall, for it was a sight which made the other occupants of the cave fall each one upon his face.