we strained our ears to distinguish the words spoken by the men beneath us, but without avail.

they seemed to be at work apparently in the thickness of the ponderous wall some few feet below where we stood. was it possible that they had ascertained from their plan the place where the gold was hidden?

sometimes it seemed as though they were working upwards towards us, for we could hear a pick upon the stones; and so we waited there, as terriers wait for rats.

through the remainder of the night we kept a watchful vigil, but about four o’clock in the morning the sounds ceased, and we concluded that they had completed their work—at least for the present. we waited an hour, and hearing no further sound resolved to open the flooring of the place wherein we stood and investigate.

this did not take us long, for as soon as we had cut through the cement we discovered, to our surprise, a wooden trap-door, and on pulling it up there was disclosed a narrow winding-stair in the thickness of the wall, leading down into the foundations of the house. the place smelt damp and musty, and the up-draught blew out the naked candle which the skipper held.

with reilly holding his hurricane lamp, i descended the rough-hewn stairs, revolver in hand, prepared for any attack. at the bottom, which i judged to be on a level with the cellars, was a stout door that had been recently sawn through, for the sawdust was fresh, and there lay near by several candle-heads. the door had succumbed to the attack of our enemies, and the latter, having opened a way into the house, had evidently retired until the following night.

i chuckled to myself that we were forearmed against any secret attack, and then went forward, finding myself in a dark and narrow tunnel built round with rough stone and sloping downwards. in places the stonework had given way, and it was with difficulty that i squeezed past the fallen earth. behind me came reilly with the swinging lantern, the skipper following us close in the rear.

scarcely a word was uttered by either of us. we were in a long, tortuous burrow that ran deep into the bowels of the earth. i had often read of subterranean passages made in ancient days to provide secret means of egress, but to traverse one was an entirely new and exciting experience.

bennett and his accomplices had left some of their tools near the scene of their operations, thus showing that they intended to return. but the passage seemed never-ending, now ascending, and again descending sharply. in places water percolated through the roof and fell in cold showers upon us as we passed, while beneath our feet it ran in a small channel onward before us.

on we went, determined to trace the burrow to its end, when, having gone fully a quarter of a mile, i suddenly stumbled, lost my breath, and found myself falling through space into a stygian darkness. a moment later i struck water, and with my hands frantically clutched at some slimy stones around.

where i was i had no idea, for the darkness there was impenetrable. i only felt my body in water that was icy cold, and my hands slipping in the thick slime. i cried out loudly for help, and heard the skipper’s answering shout.

“are you hurt, doctor?” i heard him inquire, and looking up i saw the light shining like a star far above me, and the form of my two companions peering down.

then i knew the truth. i had fallen into a well which, dug right across the path, served as a man-trap to any traversing the tunnel with hostile purpose.

i shouted back to them to return to the house and get ropes.

“can you hold on?” reilly inquired.

“not for long,” i answered, for the cold was already cramping my limbs, and in that blackness i dared not move, lest my grip should slip and i should sink. near me water trickled; beyond that there was no other sound. the air, too, was bad, although, fortunately, it was not poisonous, as is so often the case in wells. the tunnel above was well ventilated, for in places the draught was quite strong, showing that at the end it was open to the air.

above, my companions held consultation. there was but one lamp, and whoever went back would be compelled to take it. reilly, being fleet of foot, sped away, leaving the skipper lying full length with his head peering over the edge of the abyss.

he tried to cheer me and keep up my spirits, but i knew from the tremor in his voice how anxious he was.

“them swabs bridged this place over with planks,” he informed me. “but when they retired they drew back the boards after them. keep up your pecker, doctor, mr. reilly will be back in a moment and we’ll soon haul you out.”

“i’m cold,” i said wearily.

“don’t think of it,” came his cheery voice through the darkness. “you’re going to have a drop o’ grog hot when you come up. we can’t see you from up here. how far are you down?”

i guessed at about seventy feet, and told him so. but, of course, distances are very deceptive in the dark.

the minutes seemed hours, and a dozen times i felt that my strength must fail before the return of reilly. but at last i saw a welcome glimmer of light above, and gradually it approached me, let down by a string.

then i realized my desperate position. half submerged in the black water, i had only been saved by a jutting piece of stone to which i was clinging. save for this one piece, all else was smooth and covered with a thick grey slime, while from the light blind newts and strange creeping things scuttled away into their holes in the stones.

very quickly a rope was dangling near me, and after some effort, my limbs being so cramped, i succeeded in securing it round my waist.

then, having given the signal, my two friends hauled me out of the death-trap.

across the abyss there lay two planks that had been used by bennett and his men, but, not being able to reach them, we all three returned to the house, where i changed my clothes and took a nip of brandy to steady my nerves. my revolver i had lost at the bottom of the well.

eager to explore the tunnel to its end, my companions obtained two stout planks from the out-house and presently we retraced our steps in slow procession until we came to the death-trap. this we succeeded in bridging successfully, and then continued onward, stumbling over mounds of fallen earth and squeezing through places where the tunnel had collapsed.

certainly, whoever built the manor house, whether old bartholomew or some one before him, had taken precaution to provide a secret mode of egress. for nearly a mile the burrow ran, and although we held the lantern close to the ground, we discovered no other trap for the unwary. suddenly the narrow way began to ascend, slowly at first, then abruptly. a strange noise caused us to halt and listen. horses’ hoofs and wheels sounded above us. we were beneath a highway.

at last we came to a flight of rough-hewn stone steps leading straight up, with a closed door. we only spoke in whispers, and i, walking first, ascended and tried the latch. it yielded.

slowly i opened the door, but it creaked upon its hinges, and to our dazzled eyes shone the light of day. then i slipped through, followed by the others, and we found ourselves beneath a large barn.

this did not take us many minutes to explore, for peering out at the open door we found ourselves in a small farmyard, amid unfamiliar surroundings. the farmhouse, a long, low, thatched place half hidden by roses, lay a little distance off, and as we watched in secret we saw before the house a young girl with cotton sun-bonnet feeding a flock of cackling geese.

we were undecided how to act. it was clear that this was the starting-point of our enemies. beyond the house lay a small village surrounding a church, therefore it was agreed that while reilly went into the place to make inquiry as to the occupants of the farm, i should conceal myself with the skipper somewhere in the immediate vicinity.

therefore, one by one we slipped from beneath the barn, and crossed unnoticed to a small spinney in the rear. from a point of vantage we were afforded a good view of the farm premises, and while i waited with seal, reilly took a roundabout route to the village.

we lit our pipes, and, concealed amid the undergrowth, waited and watched. the house seemed a pleasant, old-fashioned one, but, with the exception of an aged labourer in a smock and the goose-girl, there seemed no sign of life. it was just after nine o’clock, a beautiful bright morning, and in the small garden there was a wealth of cottage flowers, the fresh scent of which reached us even in our hiding-place.

the barn beneath which the subterranean passage ended was very old, with patched roof and blackened gables, dating from the same period as the farmhouse, with its mullioned windows and small green diamond panes. some of the windows had, however, been blocked up in order to avoid the window tax of long ago.

nearly an hour had passed, and seal had been yawning, as was his wont, when of a sudden a neat female figure in dark blue appeared in the garden, stooping to gather flowers. she wore a large straw hat which flopped over her face, but as i looked she raised her head in my direction, and i uttered a cry of surprise.

the figure was none other than that of miss bristowe.

“look!” i cried, to seal. “look at that girl in the garden. that’s miss bristowe.”

the old skipper shaded his eyes with his hands, then ejaculated:?—

“je-hoshaphat! she’s a stunning fine woman, that she is! then it’s her lover who’s missing?”

“yes.”

“i wonder what she’s doing here?”

“ah, that’s the mystery!” i said, watching her gathering the old-fashioned flowers into a great posy.

“you’ll need to have a chat with her, doctor. if she likes she can tell us a lot, that’s certain.”

“but she won’t,” was my response.

“she may, now that the rascals have made away with the man she loves.”

“but don’t you recollect what reilly overheard?” i said. “it seems that, in obedience to the orders of the gang, she deceived him and enticed him, so that he fell into their hands. by that they managed to make her an accessory in the crime, and so ensure her secrecy.”

“that’s a bit of black bennett’s cunning ingenuity. he’s always artful enough to fix the blame on other people, which accounts for his hair-breadth escapes from the police.”

the girl, having gathered sufficient flowers, halted and, leaning her arms upon a small gate, looked wistfully away across the fields. i was near enough to see how wan and pale was her face, and how haggard and worn she seemed. a great change had been wrought in her since our first meeting in that dingy little consulting-room at walworth.

she had been my friend then. was she still? i had never ceased to think of her even in the wild excitement of that search after fortune. that pale, beautiful face was ever before me. those dark, wistful eyes, that told of a dread secret hidden within her heart, seemed everywhere to gaze into mine, just as they had gazed on the last occasion we had met.

i confess to you, my reader, that i loved her—yet she was unapproachable.