“I hope it will be a lesson to you,” she rejoined, breathing a sigh of relief as they emerged into the dim twilight of the cave.  “Oh, isn’t it nice to see again!  I feel as if I have been blindfolded for years.”

“Poor little one!” he said.  “Can you ever pardon me?”

They stood together in the deep gloom.  They could hear the water lapping the sides of the passage that led inwards from the shore.

“It must be knee-deep round the bend,” said Chris.  “Yes, I’ll forgive you, Bertie.  I daresay it wasn’t altogether your fault, and I expect your head aches, doesn’t it?  I hope it isn’t very bad.  Is there a very big lump?  Let me feel.”

She passed her hand over his forehead till her fingers encountered the excrescence they sought.

“Oh, you poor boy, it’s enormous!” she exclaimed.  “Why didn’t you tell me before?  We must bathe it at once.”

But Bertrand laughed and gently drew her hand away.  “No—­no!  It is only a bagatelle.  Think no more of it, I beg.  I merited it for my negligence.  Now, while there is still light, let us decide where you can with the greatest convenience pass the night.”

He was prepared for some measure of dismay, as he thus presented to her the worst aspect of the catastrophe.  But Chris remained serene.  She was rapidly recovering her spirits.

“Oh, yes,” she said.  “And poor Cinders too!  We must find him a nice comfy corner.  He can lie on my skirt and keep me warm.  Oh, do you know, I heard such a funny story the other day about this very cave.  I’ll tell you about it presently.  But do find the cake first.  I’m so hungry.  We needn’t go to bed yet, need we?  It must be quite early.  What time do you think the tide will let us get out?  Poor Mademoiselle will think I’m drowned.”

Chris’s awe of the Magic Cave had evidently evaporated.  The picnic mood had returned to take its place, and Bertrand knew not whether to be more astounded or relieved.  He began to feel about for the basket containing the remnants of their feast, while Chris with much volubility and not a little merriment explained the situation to Cinders.

He calculated that they would be at liberty in the early hours of the morning unless he tempted Fate a second time by climbing the cliff.  But Chris would not for a moment consider this proposition, and he was too shaken by his recent fall to feel assured of success if he persisted.  Moreover, he seriously doubted if any boat could be brought within reach of her while the tide remained high.

Plainly his only course was to follow her lead and make the best of things.  If she managed to extract any enjoyment from a most difficult situation, so much the better.  He could but do his utmost to encourage this enviable frame of mind.

Chris, munching cheerfully in the twilight, had evidently quite forgotten her woes.  They went down the passage later as far as the bend, and looked at the seething water, all green in the evening light, that held them captive.