“Wouldn’t it be better to keep on up it? Should be sure of it then.”
“But don’t you see that we can go no farther?” I said wonderingly.
“No, sir, I don’t. Water’s not above eighteen inches deep, and it’s nice sandy bottom.”
“But it nearly touches the top of the arch,” I said.
“Just there it do, sir, but that’s only the doorway; it may be ever so high inside. P’raps I’m wrong, though. You’ve tried it, then?”
“What, tried to get under that horrible dark arch? Oh, no!”
“Why not?” said the man coolly. “I don’t see nothing horrid. Dessay it’ll be dark, but we’ve a lanthorn.”
“But we should have to wade, and in the darkness we might go down some horrible hole.”
Cross shook his head.
“Nay,” he said; “you might do that if the water was running the other way downward, but we should have to go up stream with the water coming to us. We shouldn’t find any holes; what we should find more likely would be waterfalls, and have to climb up ’em.”