Much to her astonishment this hole kept spreading wider and wider, and growing deeper and deeper, until it really seemed to have no bottom; and all the while, there came a rumbling noise out of its depths, louder and louder, and nearer and nearer, and sounding like the tramp of horses’ hoofs and the rattling of wheels.  Too much frightened to run away, she stood straining her eyes into this wonderful cavity, and soon saw a team of four sable horses, snorting smoke out of their nostrils, and tearing their way out of the earth with a splendid golden chariot whirling at their heels.  They leaped out of the bottomless hole, chariot and all; and there they were, tossing their black manes, flourishing their black tails, and curvetting with every one of their hoofs off the ground at once, close by the spot where Proserpina stood.  In the chariot sat the figure of a man, richly dressed, with a crown on his head, all flaming with diamonds.  He was of a noble aspect, and rather handsome, but looked sullen and discontented; and he kept rubbing his eyes and shading them with his hand, as if he did not live enough in the sunshine to be very fond of its light.

[Illustration:  They leaped out of the bottomless hole, chariot and all; and there they were tossing their black tails, and curvetting with every one of their hoofs off the ground at once, close by the spot where proserpina stood.  In the chariot sat the figure of A man]

As soon as this personage saw the affrighted Proserpina, he beckoned her to come a little nearer.

“Do not be afraid,” said he, with as cheerful a smile as he knew how to put on.  “Come!  Will not you like to ride a little way with me, in my beautiful chariot?”

But Proserpina was so alarmed that she wished for nothing but to get out of his reach.  And no wonder.  The stranger did not look remarkably good-natured, in spite of his smile; and as for his voice, its tones were deep and stern, and sounded as much like the rumbling of an earthquake under ground as anything else.  As is always the case with children in trouble, Proserpina’s first thought was to call for her mother.

“Mother, Mother Ceres!” cried she, all in a tremble.  “Come quickly and save me.”

But her voice was too faint for her mother to hear.  Indeed, it is most probable that Ceres was then a thousand miles off, making the corn grow in some far-distant country.  Nor could it have availed her poor daughter, even had she been within hearing; for no sooner did Proserpina begin to cry out, than the stranger leaped to the ground, caught the child in his arms, and again mounting the chariot, shook the reins, and shouted