lanterns have worked around to the neighborhoods of their spines, so
that, whichever way they turn, the light is all behind them. Greatly
agitated, as men are apt to be when surrounded by supernatural
influences, they do not perceive the cause of this apparently unnatural
illumination; and, upon turning round and round in irregular circles,
and still finding the light in the wrong place, they exhibit signs of
great trepidation.

"Warzemarrer wirra _light?_" repeats Mr. BUMSTEAD, spinning wildly until
he brings up against the wall.

"Ishgotb'witched, I b'lieve," pants Mr. McLAUGHLIN, whirling as
frenziedly with his own lantern dangling behind him, and coming to an
abrupt pause against the opposite wall.

Thus, each supported against the stones by a shoulder, they breathe hard
for a moment, and then sink into a slumber in which they both slide down
to the ground. Aroused by the shock, they sit up quite dazed, brush away
the swarming snakes and monkies, are freshly alarmed by discovering that
they are now actually sitting upon that perverse light behind them, and,
by a simultaneous impulse, begin crawling about in search of the ladder.
Unable to see anything with all the light behind him, but fancying
that he discerns a gleam beyond a dark object near at hand, Mr. BUMSTEAD
rises to a standing attitude by a series of complex manoeuvres, and
plants a foot on something.

"I'morth'larrer!" he cries, spiritedly.

"Th'larrer's on me!" answers Mr. MCLAUGHLIN, in evidently great
bewilderment.