"Yes, this must be it," Jack said, excitedly, "but I can't see anything inside, Theo. Do you mean to go in?"
"Of course I do."
Theodore proceeded to pull an end of candle, about two inches in length, and the box of wax matches he had purloined from Jane's dressing-table, from the depths of his trousers' pockets.
"There!" he cried, triumphantly, as he struck a light and lit the candle, which had become rather soft and bent.
"You think of everything, Theo," Jack exclaimed, admiringly. "Shall we have to get into the cave through that hole? It's not big enough."
"Oh, yes, it is; only we must crawl in. I'll go first, and you follow. You aren't afraid, are you?"
"Oh, no!"
Theodore went down on his knees, and holding the lighted candle in one hand, and feeling his way with the other, he disappeared through the opening. A minute later Jack heard him utter an exclamation of vexation and dismay; but he was reassured by the sound of his stepbrother's voice saying:
"The candle's gone out; I'll light it again! Wait a minute, Jack. There's plenty of room in here. Now then, come along."
With some misgivings Jack crawled through the opening. As he advanced cautiously, there was more space, and when he reached Theodore's side he found himself in a cave about six feet in height, and large enough to hold several people comfortably. Theodore had successfully relit his candle, and by its feeble light they examined the place, afterwards sitting down on the stony floor side by side to talk matters over.