Chris, munching cheerfully in the twilight, had evidently quite forgotten
her woes. They went down the passage later as far as the bend, and looked
at the seething water, all green in the evening light, that held them
captive.

"I wish it wasn't going to be quite dark," she said when they returned.
"But if we hold hands and talk I shan't mind. That was a lovely cake of
yours, Bertie, I shall never forget it."

They found a ledge to sit on, Chris with her feet curled up; and Cinders,
grown sleepy after a generous meal, pressed against her. She protested
when Bertrand took off his coat and wrapped it round her, but he would
take no refusal. There was a penetrating dampness about the place that he
feared for her.

"If you sleep, you will feel it," he said.

"But I'm not going to sleep," declared Chris. "I never felt more
wide-awake in my life. I often do at bedtime. I hope you are not feeling
sleepy either, for I want to talk all night long."

Bertrand professed himself quite willing to listen. "You were going to
tell me something about this cave," he reminded her.

"Oh, yes." Chris swooped upon the subject eagerly. "Manon, the little
maid-of-all-work, was telling me. She said that no one ever comes here
because it is haunted. That's what made Cinders and me call it the Magic
Cave. She said that it was well known that no one ever came out the same
as they went in even in the daytime, and if any one were to spend the
night here they would be under a spell for the rest of their lives. Just