ran far beyond our sight.

"My Boutiques," said Uncle George, "and no man--no living man but myself
has ever been here till now, so far as I know." And round the walls we saw
a very large number of neatly piled kegs and packages, at which my
grandfather said, "Ah ha, mon beau!" and Uncle George smiled cheerfully in
the candle-light.

"The Great Boutiques lie over there," he said, pointing. "There are
communications, high up along the cross shelves. But they need not trouble
you. I am quite certain no man but myself knows them. So if you hear the
waves tumbling about in the big cave you don't need to be frightened."

"And how far does this go?" asked my grandfather, trying to see the end.

"Right through the Eperquerie. It runs into a water cave there. Its mouth
is below tide level, but sometimes the light comes through. If you want
brandy, Phil, broach a keg. If you want more tobacco, open a package."

"And water?" asked Carette.

"About fifty yards along there on the right in a hollow place. You can't
miss it."

"Keep your hearts up, my children," said my grandfather. "You will be quite
safe here. Our work lies outside, and we must get back. George will come to
you as soon as the way is clear. God be with you!"

"You are quite sure there are no ghosts about, Uncle George?" asked
Carette in a half-scared whisper, for she was still a devout believer in