"Well, I may as well go on a little bit," thought Saxe; and cautiously advancing, so as not to step down some horrible rock split, he went forward rapt in wonder at the beauty of the scene, as at the end of a few yards the pa.s.sage curved round so that the opening became invisible, and he was gazing at the glorious rays of light which shot right by him, all tinted with celestial blue.

"It is glorious," he thought; and then he gave quite a start, for the goat beside him suddenly set up a loud bleat and began to advance farther beneath the glacier, its pattering hoofs on the stone sounding loudly above the water.

"Here, you: stop! Come back," cried Saxe: "you'll be tumbling down some hole. Do you hear?"

If the goat did hear, it paid no heed, but went on; and as the way seemed to be safe in the dim blue light, Saxe followed, till from twilight it began to grow purply-black before he had nearly overtaken the goat, which uttered a mournful baa, and stopped short, as a good-sized lump of ice flew by its head, and smashed upon the rock; and as the goat still advanced, another and another came flying.

Saxe retreated horrified and startled, to reach the spot where the others were, breathless and pale.

"Hullo! What's the matter?"

"The ice is falling in. Come out."

"Nonsense!" cried Dale.

"It is; or else lumps are flying out from inside; and the goat and I were nearly hit."

Dale looked at the guide, who shook his head.

"Some ice might fall farther in," he said; "but pieces could not come flying out."

"Of course not," said Dale, returning to his observations. "Go in and see."

It was on Saxe's lips to say, "Never again!" for his thoughts flew back to his last night's experience; but just then the goat bleated, looked inquiringly along the blue winding cavern, with its amethystine roof, and began to advance.

"There you are, Saxe," cried Dale: "go after that goat and turn her back, or she'll lose herself, and there'll be no milk for tea."

Saxe felt obliged to go now; and, calling himself a coward to be afraid to enter that long cellar-like place, he walked boldly in after the goat, turned the corner where the arch of light was left behind, with the two fingers busy chipping and measuring, and went on.

The goat looked very indistinct now, then it disappeared in the purple gloom; and it was only by listening to the pat-pat of its hoofs on the stone that Saxe could satisfy himself that it was going forward, and that there was no dangerous fall awaiting him.

Then the goat bleated again, and _crick_, _crack_, _crash_, came the sound of pieces of ice striking the walls and floor. The goat came bounding back, followed by another piece of ice, which broke close to Saxe's feet, as he turned and took flight once more.

"Hullo!--back! Why, you look scared, boy!"

"There is ice falling or flying out."

Dale laughed; and this put the boy upon his mettle, as he now argued with himself that help was very near.

"I want the lanthorn," he said aloud.

"What for?"

"To go and see what it is."

"That's right. Give him the lanthorn, Melchior. We'll follow him directly."

The guide swung the lanthorn round from where it hung at his belt, detached it, lit it; and, with the confidence afforded by the light, Saxe grasped his ice-axe firmly, and walked right in, preceded once more by the goat.

The mingling of the light with the amethystine gloom had a very beautiful effect, as the former flashed from the surface of the walls and made the ice glitter; but Saxe had no eyes then for natural beauties. He could think of nothing but the flying lumps of ice, and, oddly enough, the remembrance of the horrible head which he had seen in the night now came strongly back.

But he went on, and, if not boldly, at any rate with a fixed determination to see the adventure to the end.

Saxe was able to penetrate farther this time, with the goat pattering on before him; and to show that there was no fancy in the matter, the light flashed from some broken fragments of ice lying close beside the rushing stream. But though he held the lanthorn high above his head, he could see nothing, only the dim arch, the line of shining water, and the pale stony floor.

Just ahead, though, the stream took a sudden bend round to the left, and the dry portion of the stone taking the same direction, Saxe went on, involuntarily raising his axe as if there might be danger round beyond that bend where the ice projected like a b.u.t.tress.

He was close upon it now, and, holding the light well up with his left hand, he was in the act of turning the corner, when something moved out of the darkness on the other side, and Saxe stood once more petrified with horror as the light fell upon the huge face he had seen in the night, but hideously distorted, and with the glowing bloodshot eyes within six inches of his own.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

MELCHIOR WAKES UP.

The boy's lips parted, but no words came; his arm was raised with its weapon, but he could not strike--only stand shivering; until, by a tremendous effort, he flung himself round and dashed back.

"Why, hallo, lad! what is it? Have you seen a ghost?"

Saxe tried to speak, but no words would come for a few moments.

"Yes--no," he panted at last. "Something dreadful--in there."

Dale caught up the ice-axe which he had laid down while he was measuring, and turned to the guide.

"What is it likely to be, Melchior--a bear?"

"I cannot say, herr," said the guide, whose countenance changed a little as he, too, caught up his ice-axe. "But I should think not--in there."

"No--not a bear," panted Saxe. "I saw it--last night. Horrible-- horrible."

"Don't rave like a hysterical girl, my lad," cried Dale, grasping Saxe's arm. "Now, then: speak out--like a man. Is it the body of some poor creature dead?"

"No--no," said Saxe, struggling to master himself, and now speaking calmly: "I went to the fall to drink in the middle of the night, and I saw it there. It cast lumps of ice at me, and I saw it close to the lanthorn."

"A wild beast?"

"No," said Saxe, with a shudder.

"Come; you must not be scared like that, my lad. What was it?"

"I don't know; unless it is true that there are gnomes and kobolds, and this is one."

"Well, then, boy--it is not true, and this is not one."

"No--no: of course not," said Saxe, who was now strung up. "It must be a man."

"Of course. What do you say, Melchior?"