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Here some moments were given to recapitulating the marvels of the long route; the rivers, lakes, hills, ravines and valleys; and above all, another black, yawning chasm similar to that which had startled them on the short route.

“Stephen, where does that lead?” was the query.

“That leads into the one we saw yesterday. We call this end Beersheba, and the other Dan, because it is so much nearer the mouth of the cave. I have explored the whole passage, but it has nothing worth showing visitors. But I have no doubt there’s miles that nobody has ever been over. It’s a big place, I tell you.”

“Didn’t you find the dead stranger?” asked the tall girl, who always had something to say.

“Can’t say as I looked for him, miss.”

In high spirits the party retraced their steps as far as the Bottomless Pit on the right, and the black chasm Beersheba, on the left, a distance of about five miles from the entrance to the cave.

“Take care!” warned the guide; “it is wet and slippery here, and the path is very narrow.”

They were creeping on in single file when Stephen called back,–

“Mr. Hammond, you look pretty strong–would you help steady this railing? It seems a little shaky.”

Hammond came on ahead and stood bracing the bridge, which was one of the very few man-made structures in the cavern, while the other escorts led the girls, one at a time, around the abrupt and slippery ledge. In consequence of this stringing out of torches, the light was dim along the narrow way, so that even these few steps of advance had left the Bottomless Pit in darkness.

Suddenly there was a rapid, rushing sound in the rear; a whirring echo; a suppressed cry, and a heavy splash far below. The ladies screamed, and the faces of the men grew pallid with horror.

“My God! What was it? Who was it?” burst from their lips.

“Don’t go back, gentlemen!” shouted the guide. “It’s no use! Come on this side here–I’ll go back. First, see who is missing. If anybody is down there, the Lord have mercy on him, for man can’t help him.”

Soon the trembling, awe-struck party were safe on a platform, and the lights were bunched to their full radiance. Some one cried:

“Minnie Dare is not here!” “And, by Jove, Eldon Brand is not here, either!” said the chorus. Then in a low tone, “Could it have been suicide? How horrible!”

And this thought was the prevailing one, for the trials of the lovers were well known.

Jason Hammond ran back precipitately with the guide, and in a sort of frenzy peered far into the awful chasm. Words of blasphemy were on his lips as he began to realize to what end his persecution had driven the fair young creature he had sworn to win. As for Brand, he rejoiced in his fate. Could it have been an accident? He thought not.

“No use,” repeated the guide, “I can come back here and bring somebody who will go down on a rope. But I tell you the bottom of that place has never been found yet. We let a young fellow down by a rope last summer in a frolic–his name was Mr. Clarence Prentice–and he pretty soon called out to haul him up. Learned folks say a river runs down there, and there ain’t any bottom at all. Everything gets swept away with the current. I don’t know how it is, I am sure,”

Slowly the terror-stricken company wended their way back to earth, the light of enjoyment driven from their hearts. The girls gave themselves up to sobs and tears, and all dreaded to convey the tidings to the bereaved families.

The men went back with ropes and grappling hooks, but nothing came of their labors. The bodies of the hapless lovers were not found, and none knew how they had gone over the treacherous crag into the abyss below. Surmises were rife, but prudence chose the better part of silent sympathy. The newspapers fairly gloated over the tragedy, and summer visitors were divided between curiosity to look upon the spot and fear lest they, too, might miss their footing; hence the profits of Cave Hotel were not noticeably on the decrease.