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One day, making his way along a rocky path, he found a swineherd guarding his flock.

‘Good-morrow!’ said the man, and asked Amyntas whither he was bound.

‘God knows!’ answered Amyntas. ‘I am wandering at chance, and know not where I go.’

‘Well, youth, stay the night with me, and to-morrow you can set out again. In return for your company I will give you food and shelter.’

Amyntas accepted gratefully, for he had been feeding on herbs for a week, and the prospect of goat’s milk, cheese and black bread was like the feast of Trimalchion. When Amyntas had said his story, the herdsman told him that there was a rich man in the neighbouring village who wanted a swineherd, and in the morning showed him the way to the rich man’s house.

‘I will come a little way with you lest you take the wrong path.’ …

They walked along the rocky track, and presently the way divided.

‘This path to the right leads to the village,’ said the man.

‘And this one to the left, swineherd?’

The swineherd crossed himself.

‘Ah! that is the path of evil fortune. It leads to the accursed cavern.’

A cold wind blew across their faces.

‘Come away,’ said the herdsman, shuddering. ‘Do you not feel on your face the cold breath of it?’

‘Tell me what it is,’ said Amyntas. He stood looking at the opening between the low trees.

‘It is a lake of death–a lake beneath the mountain–and the roof of it is held up by marble columns, which were never wrought by the hand of man. Come away! do you not feel on your face the cold breath of it?’

He dragged Amyntas away along the path that led to the village, and when the way was clear before him, turned back, returning to his swine. But Amyntas ran after him.

‘Tell me what they say of the accursed cavern.’

‘They say many things. Some say it is a treasure-house of the Moors, where they have left their wealth. Some say it is an entrance to the enchanted land; some say it is an entrance to hell itself…. Venturous men have gone in to discover the terrible secret, but none has returned to tell it.’

Amyntas wandered slowly towards the village. Were his dreams to end in the herding of swine? What was this cavern of which the herdsman spoke? He felt a strange impulse to go back and look at the dark opening between the little trees from which blew the cold wind…. But perhaps the rich man had a beauteous daughter; history is full of the social successes of swine herds. Amyntas felt a strange thrill as the dark lake came before his mind; he almost heard the lapping of the water…. Kings’ daughters had often looked upon lowly swineherds and raised them to golden thrones. But he could not help going to look again at the dark opening between the little trees. He walked back and again the cold breath blew against his face; he felt in it the icy coldness of the water. It drew him in; he separated the little trees on either side. He walked on as if a hidden power urged him. And now the path became less clear; trees and bushes grew in the way and hindered him, brambles and long creeping plants twisted about his legs and pulled him back. But the wind with its coldness of the black water drew him on…. The birds of the air were hushed, and not one of the thousand insects of the wood uttered a note. Great trees above him hid the light. The silence was ghastly; he felt as if he were the only person in the world.

Suddenly he gave a cry; he had come to the end of the forest, and before him he saw the opening of the cavern. He looked in; he saw black, stagnant water, motionless and heavy, and, as far as the eye could reach, sombre pillars, covered with green, moist slime; they stood half out of the water, supporting the roof, and from the roof oozed moisture which fell in heavy drops, in heavy drops continually. At the entrance was a little skiff with a paddle in it.