A DANGEROUS REFUGE.

OUR story goes back to Spankle and Tom Hughes, whom we left just starting for the cave, at the head of quite a goodly company.

The two informers had heard, about a week before, of a reward having lately been offered for every smuggler caught, and their covetous longing for the reward was backed up by the hatred they felt in common for Captain Smythe, and their jealousy of Ben, Johnnie, and Red Beard, who were more trusted than themselves. Also, they had begun to fear for their own personal safety in so dangerous a trade, and thought to do a double stroke of business for their own benefit, by betraying the gang. So now it was with the kind of triumph and satisfaction which only such mean souls can feel, that these two worthies led the way to Hoyle's Mouth.

"I know every stone in the whole of that great cavern," said Tom, boastfully, to a constable who was walking near him. "I'm sure I could find my way about there blindfold. A nice place it is, too," he added with the easy, affable assurance so entirely his own—"yes, a fine place, and but for this conscience of mine being that tender as I couldn't stand by and see such goings on, I might have stayed with the smugglers all my life. But there! My conscience has always stood in the way of my getting on."

"From the looks of you, I should say it might," remarked the policeman, with a little dry chuckle. "But now s'pose you drop what's left of your conscience, and lead the way in with this man Spankle."

Lighted by their lanterns, the whole company entered the cave, Tom and Spankle heading the procession. One by one they crept through the narrow corridor, and so on through the various chambers, till they reached the one that should have led by the opening usually blocked with the great rock boulder—into the big dwelling cave of the smugglers.

But, to the astonishment and chagrin of both the guides, all was changed. Instead of the huge stone door, set in the opening of the cave wall, there were several unequal piles of rocks and stones, some reaching nearly to the roof, others heaped along the entire length of the wall. Nowhere was there the least sign of any opening at all.

"Isn't it just here that the doorway was, Spankle?" asked Tom of his companion.

"Don't ask me," replied Spankle; "I never was much in this place. 'Twas to you I trusted in coming here."

"Now then, Thomas Hughes," said the head constable, "lead on, or we may lose these precious rascals after all."

Tom turned round.

"Well, I never!" said he. "Something's gone and happened to the wall. We can't tell where the opening is."

"Opening? And is it here you expected to find an opening?" questioned the policeman, with fine scorn. "Why, all this stone and rubbish must have been lying here for no end of time. How could anything happen to the wall, you simpleton?"

"I don't know, sir," rejoined Tom, "but somehow it's different."

"Why don't you say at once that you've led us wrong, and don't know anything about it?" cried the constable. "Here's a wild-goose chase all for nothing! You'll hear of this, you two, at headquarters, in a way you won't like."

After some time spent in grumbling and fruitless search after an opening into the big cave, the head man said at last, "There's nothing for it but to go back to Tenby. A fine bother you've made for us, but you shall smart for it—both of you!"

"Oh, indeed! So that's the little game, is it?" said Tom to himself. "Then I won't go back to Tenby at all. I'll hide here, and they'll never miss me. Will you please take my lantern, policeman, while I tie my shoe? Thank you—don't wait for me! I'll be after you in a minute."

The man took the lantern and walked on with the others, who were following Spankle towards the entrance.

Tom hid himself in a corner until they had gone some distance, then he began to walk slowly in the same direction, and heard them talking, but his name was not mentioned. Evidently they had not missed him. Another minute or two and the whole company, all but himself, had left the cave, and were making good their return journey.

"Now then!" said Tom to himself, after waiting to make sure that all was safe. "Now then, it's my turn!"

And he was about to cross the threshold of the cave, when he fancied he heard some soft cushioned footsteps approaching from an opposite direction to that taken by the smuggler-hunters. Patter, patter, over the dry leaves, on came the hushed footfalls; then they paused, and a dark shadow half filled up the mouth of the cave. Just at that moment, the moon struggled from behind the black clouds, and threw a pale, quivering shaft of light right across the space in front of the cave and on to an enormous, tawny beast that stood there, with head erect, with ears on the alert, with fiery eyes, with a shaggy mane, and a waving, tufted tail, and with great, half-open jaws that dripped blood.

With a yell of horror and fear that sounded scarcely human, Tom turned and fled headlong into the inner darkness of the cave. In a more dignified and leisurely manner, the king of beasts followed. There was another shriek, a hollow roar which reverberated horribly through the arches of Hoyle's Mouth,—then came the sound of a fall, and silence. Then another low growl, and again silence.

"Hark, Waif! That was Ahab's voice!" said Leo, as he and Davey stepped into the cave, followed by the rest of the little party.

The dogs were kept outside for fear of infuriating the lion. "Ahab, old man, where are you?"