Us homeward is the ocean bearing

Upon its gentle, azure swell."

Just as the old man ended, it struck Henry that he had somewhere heard that song. He asked him to repeat it and wrote it down. The old man then departed, and the merchants conversed with the other guests on the pleasures and hardships of mining. One said "I don't believe the old man is here without some object. He has been climbing to-day among the hills, and has doubtless discovered good signs. We will ask him when he comes in again."

"See here," said another, "we might ask him to hunt up a well for our village. Good water is far off, and a well would be right welcome to us."

"It occurs to me," said a third, "that I might ask him to take with him one of my sons, who has already filled the house with stones. The youngster would certainly make an able miner, and the old man seems honest, and one who would bring him up in the way he should go."

The merchants were thinking whether they might not establish, by aid of the miner, a profitable trade with Bohemia, and procure metals thence at low prices. The old man entered the room again, and all wished to make use of his acquaintance, when he began to say:--

"How dull and depressing is this narrow room! The moon is without there in all her glory, and I have a great desire to take a walk. I saw to-day some remarkable caves in this neighborhood. Perhaps some of you would like to go with me; and if we take lights, we shall be able to view them without any difficulty."

The inhabitants of the village were already acquainted with the existence of these caves, but no one had as yet dared to enter them. On the contrary they were deceived by frightful traditions of dragons and other monsters, which were said to dwell therein. Some went so far as to say that they had seen them, and insisted that the bones of men who had been robbed, and of animals which had been devoured, were to be found at the entrances of these caves. Others thought that a ghost haunted them, for they had often seen from a distance a strange human form there, and songs had been heard thence at night.

The old man was rather incredulous upon the point, and laughingly assured them that they could visit the caves with safety under the protection of a miner, since such monsters must shun him; and as for a singing spirit, that must certainly be a beneficent one. Curiosity rendered many courageous enough to accept his proposition. Henry wished also to accompany him, and his mother at length yielded to his entreaties, and the persuasion and promises of the old man, who agreed to have a special eye to his safety. The merchants promised to do the same. Long sticks of pitch-pine were collected for torches; part of the company provided themselves plentifully with ladders, poles, ropes, and all sorts of defensive weapons, and thus finally they started for the neighboring hills. The old man led the way with Henry and the merchants. The boor had brought that inquisitive son of his, who full of joy held a torch and pointed out the way to the caves. The evening was clear and warm. The moon shone mildly over the hills, prompting strange dreams in all creatures. Itself lay like a dream of the sun, above the introverted world of visions, and restored nature, now living in its infinite phases, back to that fabulous olden time, when every bud yet slumbered by itself, lonely and unquickened, longing in vain to expand the dark fulness of its immeasurable existence. The evening's tale mirrored itself in Henry's mind. It seemed as if the world lay disclosed within him, showing him as a friendly visitor all her hidden treasures and beauties. So clearly was the great yet simple apparition revealed to him. Nature seemed incomprehensible, only because the near and the true loomed around man with such a manifold lavishment of expression. The words of the old man had opened a secret door. He saw a little dwelling built close to a lofty minster, from whose stone pavement arose the solemn foreworld, while the clear, joyous future, in the form of golden cherubs, floated from the spire towards it with songs. Loud swelled the notes in their silvery chanting, as all creatures were entering at the wide gate, each audibly expressing in a simple prayer and proper tongue their interior nature. How strange it seemed that this clear view, so necessary to his existence, had been so long unknown to him. He now reviewed at a glance all his relations to the wide world around him. He felt what he had become, and was to become, through its influence, and comprehended all the peculiar conceptions and presages, which he had already often stumbled upon in contemplation. The story which the merchants had related of the young man, who studied nature so assiduously, and who became the son-in-law of the king, recurred to his mind, with a thousand other recollections of his past life, weaving themselves involuntarily on his part into a magic thread. While Henry was thus occupied in his inward musings, the company had approached the cave. The entrance was low, and the old man took a torch and first clambered over some fragments of rock. A perceptible current of air blew towards them, and the old man assured them that they could follow with confidence. The most timorous brought up the rear, holding their weapons in readiness. Henry and the merchants were behind the old man, and the boy walked merrily at his side. The path, at first narrow, emerged into a spacious and lofty cave, which the gleam of the torches could not fully illumine. Some openings, however, were seen in the rocky wall opposite. The ground was soft and quite even; the walls and ceiling were also neither rough nor irregular. But the innumerable bones and teeth which covered the ground, chiefly attracted the attention of all. Many were in a full state of preservation, some bore marks of decay, while some projecting here and there from the walls seemed petrified. Most of them were of extraordinary size and strength. The old man was much gratified at seeing these relics of gray antiquity; they added little courage, however, to the farmers, who considered them downright evidence, that beasts of prey were near at hand, although the old man pointed out the signs upon them of a remote antiquity, and asked them whether they had ever heard of destruction among their flocks, or the seizure of men in the neighborhood, and whether they thought these relics the bones of known beasts or men. The old man wished to penetrate farther into the cave, but the farmers deemed it advisable to retreat to its mouth, and there await his return. Henry, the merchants, and the boy remained with him, having provided themselves with ropes and torches. They soon reached a second cave, where the old man did not forget to mark the path by which they entered, by a figure of bones which he erected before the mouth. This cave resembled the other, and was equally full of the remains of animals. Henry's mind was affected by wonder and awe; he felt as if passing through the outer-court of the central earth-palace. Heaven and earth lay at once far distant from him; these dark and vast halls seemed parts of some strange subterraneous kingdom. "May it not be possible," thought he to himself, "that beneath our feet there moves by itself a world in mighty life, that strange productions derive their being from the bowels of the earth, which sends forth the internal heat of its dark bosom into gigantic and preternatural shapes? Might not these awful strangers have been driven forth once by the piercing cold, and appeared amongst us, while perhaps at the same time heavenly guests, living, speaking energies of the stars, were visible above our heads? Are these bones the remains of their wandering upon the surface, or of their flight into the deep?"

Suddenly the old man called them to him, and showed them the fresh track of a human foot upon the ground. They could discover no more, so that the old man concluded they might follow the track without fear of meeting robbers. They were about to do this, when suddenly, as from a great depth beneath their feet, a distinct strain arose. They listened attentively, with not a little astonishment.