"Good old Joey!" cried Magnus, as my brother lay on the turf beside him; "crowd in, old hoss--lots of room!"

"Good old Magny!" responded Joe; "what a day we're having!"

Presently they condescended to look about them. They were on a sharp ridge, one side of which sloped down into the valley from which they had ascended, the other looked out on an uninterrupted prospect of cloud and mist.

"This isn't what's-his-name at all," said Joe. "There's a tuck shop on the top of it--there's none here."

"That chap was right," said Magnus. "That must be Snowdon over there-- we've missed him."

"Horrid bore," said Joe, who, however, regretted the mountain less than the tuck shop.

The afternoon was changing. The clouds were beginning to sweep up from the other side and begriming the sky which had been so ruthlessly clear all the morning.

All of a sudden the mist below them parted, and disclosed through a frame of cloud a great cauldron of rock yawning at their feet, at the bottom of which--as it seemed, miles below--lay a black lake. It was a scene Dante could have described better than I.

"If we could get down there we could have a tub," said Magnus.

"It's snug enough up here," replied the poet; "don't you think so?"

Magnus admitted it was snug, and did not press his motion. For, though he scorned to say so, he was f.a.gged, and felt he could do with a half- hour's lounge before undertaking a new venture.

So the reconciled friends took their siesta on the top of the mysterious mountain, and, in doing so, oddly enough fell asleep.

Sub-Chapter II.

THE IMMORTALS.

When they woke, the sun was still shining; but it had got round to the side of them which, when they dropped off, had been wrapped in cloud, while the mist had taken possession of the valley and hillside by which they had ascended.

The transformation scene was so complete that had they not seen Joe's paper on the ground beside them, and recognised the bank of heather against which they reclined, they would have found it difficult to say exactly where they were.

To all appearances they were at the end of the world. The great cauldron gaped below them, apparently perpendicular on every side, enclosing in its depths the black lake, on whose still surface the rays of the sun gleamed weirdly and gloomily.

Not a sound was to be heard except a distant sullen rumble, which might have been thunder, or earthquake, or the six-o'clock train going back to Llandudno. Above them, as the clouds drifted past, they could see, as they lay on their backs, occasional glimpses of blue, and sometimes in the far distance a shining peak bathed in crimson light.

All this was natural enough; and, were it not that they had their return tickets in their pockets, Magnus minor and Joe would probably have been content to enjoy the show for an hour or so.

What did concern them, when they got to their feet, was to observe that, so far from being as they supposed, and could have testified on solemn affidavit, on the top of the mountain, the ground now appeared to rise on every side except that occupied by the cauldron.

Whichever way they tried to walk they found themselves going uphill.

"Rum start," said Magnus minor, after ramping round in a semicircle and finding no trace of their homeward path. "It strikes me we shall have to hang out here till the clouds roll by, Joey."

"All very well. How about grub?" said the poet. "We shall be just about what-do-you-call-it by then."

"Hullo," said Magnus, looking at his watch, "do you know it's 11 p.m.

and broad daylight."

Joe consulted his watch, and wound it up as he did so.

"So it is--must be a thingamybob--a roaring boreali, or whatever you call it, going on. Wouldn't be so bad if it was good to eat."

Magnus a.s.sented, and the two outcasts stood and watched with somewhat mingled feelings the battalion of clouds as they swirled past and soared up at the heights above.

"May as well go upstairs too," said the poet, dismally. So they began the ascent. This time Magnus showed no inclination to forge ahead, and Joe took every precaution not to lag behind. In fact, they proceeded arm in arm, trying to enjoy it, but inwardly wondering who would have the benefit of their supper at Llandudno.

It was easy enough going; the turf was crisp and soft, and as they got up a little, flowers began to peep out. Though they could not see through the mists, they fancied they could catch the sound of birds and the splash of water. The clouds, sweeping up on every side, seemed to help them along, so that sometimes they could hardly be quite sure whether they were walking on earth or air. Altogether, had they but dined, they would have voted the walk one of the jolliest they ever had in their lives.

Presently a strange sound above brought them suddenly to a halt. It was music of some sort, but mingling with it the even sweeter music of plates and knives and forks; and when for a moment the music ceased, they seemed to detect voices and laughter.

"Some fellows having a picnic," said Magnus, joyfully; "keep it up, chappie, and we shall get some of the pickings--you see."

"Give them a--what-do-you-call-it?" said Joe. Whereupon Magnus startled the air with a loud "coo-oo-ey!"

The sounds above ceased all of a sudden, and the weather seemed to change to thundery.

Then a faint echo of the shout came back, and almost immediately afterwards a gentleman appeared through the mist.

He was a young-looking man, who had apparently been bathing, and had not had time to dress after it. He wore a curious sort of cap, with a wing sticking out at either side, and carried in his hand a very elaborately carved walking-stick.

"Please, can you tell us the way down to Llanberis?" asked Magnus, thinking it better not to appear to notice the gentleman's _deshabille_.

The gentleman stared at the two boys in a startled sort of way, and shrugged his shoulders.

"A foreigner," said Joe. "Try him in--what's-its--name--French."

"_S'il vous plait, pouvez vous dire nous le chemin a bas a Llanberis_?"

said Magnus, who was a capital French scholar.

It was not at all certain that the gentleman understood even this. He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder up at the clouds, which was certainly not the shortest way down to Llanberis. But as it was the direction from which the sound of the knives and forks had proceeded, it seemed as if nothing would be lost by following.

The gentleman, who in his excitement had clean forgotten about his garments, hurried the boys up the hill at a terrific pace, until all of a sudden they got out of the clouds and saw clear ahead.

The scene was a remarkable one--Magnus's idea of a picnic had been a correct, one. But such a picnic!

A party of some fifteen persons, not by any means all gentlemen, was sitting round a medium-sized table, spread with cups and dishes. The entire company, if they had not been bathing, were apparently preparing to do so, except one gentleman, who was so encased in armour that it would have been a very tedious job to take it off, and one lady, who was also got up in a military fashion, and carried a very ugly shield on her arm. The person at the head of the table was an imposing-looking gentleman, who held a sort of stuffed football in his hand, and had a tame eagle perched on his shoulder. Near him was a very good-looking, self-satisfied fellow with long curls, who had evidently been entertaining the company with a performance on a Jew's harp. Then there was a lame old gentleman, who looked as if he would be all the better for his bath when the time came, who carried a big sledge-hammer in his hand; and another fishy sort of person, who flourished about with a three-p.r.o.nged pitchfork. A very cross-looking lady sat next to the gentleman at the head of the table. By the way she kept her eye upon him, contradicting every word he said, and snubbing him at every opportunity, she was evidently his wife. Another good-looking lady was playing with a very pert-looking boy, who wore a pair of toy wings on his shoulders, and appeared to be a general favourite with every one except the other ladies, who seemed generally a disagreeable lot, and not at all good form in their manners at table.

The refreshments were being served by a nice-looking housemaid and a page-boy, who had their work cut out for them in keeping every one supplied. For these ladies and gentlemen, whatever else may be said of them, had uncommonly good appet.i.tes.

Magnus minor and Joe were too busy at first taking stock of the provender to devote much attention to the picnic party itself; but when at last they did take a look round, each uttered a cry of consternation, and crowded up to his chum for protection.

"Joey," said Magnus, "don't you know them?"

"Rather," said Joe. "I could tell them at once from the likenesses in-- what do you call him's--Smith's cla.s.sical thingamybob. It's Olympus, after all!"

"So it is," groaned Magnus. "Oh, Jupiter!"

At the mention of his name, the gentleman at the head of the table looked up.