“Why not have a picnic here, then?” he answered. “It is quite warm still.”
“We will,” she said gaily. “Come on, or the others will get restive. My aunt sees nothing in these rocks—in fact, she is rather frightened.” They descended to the caves no less wonderful.
There were no tourists at that time so they made a party by themselves and went in with a guide.
Far in the depths of “Solomon’s Temple” with its amazing stalactites lit by electric light, they saw the entrance of a dark cave.
The guide was speaking: “That cave has been explored for over two miles, but is not open to the public. We do not know where it ends. There must be exits somewhere, or the air would not keep so fresh.”
“What a place for a criminal to hide from justice,” said Collins. “If one of our friends could make his way from Dartmoor here, he might stay for months with an accomplice to bring him food.”
“Only in the summer,” said the guide; “the caves are flooded in the winter.”
Mabel shivered.
“How cold and damp it would be,” she said, “and fancy a storm coming on and the water dashing down on one from above.”
“Really, Mabel,” said Sanders, “you are getting very morbid, let’s get out and have some lunch.”