Old Master Huckaback made no answer, but (so far as I could guess) beckoned me to come to him.  There was just room between the fringe of reed and the belt of rock around it, for a man going very carefully to escape that horrible pit-hole.  And so I went round to the other side, and there found open space enough, with stunted bushes, and starveling trees, and straggling tufts of rushes.

“You fool, you are frightened,” said Uncle Ben, as he looked at my face after shaking hands:  “I want a young man of steadfast courage, as well as of strength and silence.  And after what I heard of the battle at Glen Doone, I thought I might trust you for courage.”

“So you may,” said I, “wherever I see mine enemy; but not where witch and wizard be.”

“Tush, great fool!” cried Master Huckaback; “the only witch or wizard here is the one that bewitcheth all men.  Now fasten up my horse, John Ridd, and not too near the slough, lad.  Ah, we have chosen our entrance wisely.  Two good horsemen, and their horses, coming hither to spy us out, are gone mining on their own account (and their last account it is) down this good wizard’s bog-hole.”

With these words, Uncle Reuben clutched the mane of his horse and came down, as a man does when his legs are old; and as I myself begin to do, at this time of writing.  I offered a hand, but he was vexed, and would have nought to do with it.

“Now follow me, step for step,” he said, when I had tethered his horse to a tree; “the ground is not death (like the wizard’s hole), but many parts are treacherous, I know it well by this time.”

Without any more ado, he led me in and out the marshy places, to a great round hole or shaft, bratticed up with timber.  I never had seen the like before, and wondered how they could want a well, with so much water on every side.  Around the mouth were a few little heaps of stuff unused to the daylight; and I thought at once of the tales I had heard concerning mines in Cornwall, and the silver cup at Combe-Martin, sent to the Queen Elizabeth.

[Illustration:  541.jpg Never had seen the like before]

“We had a tree across it, John,” said Uncle Reuben, smiling grimly at my sudden shrink from it:  “but some rogue came spying here, just as one of our men went up.  He was frightened half out of his life, I believe, and never ventured to come again.  But we put the blame of that upon you.  And I see that we were wrong, John.”  Here he looked at me with keen eyes, though weak.

“You were altogether wrong,” I answered.  “Am I mean enough to spy upon any one dwelling with us?  And more than that, Uncle Reuben, it was mean of you to suppose it.”

“All ideas are different,” replied the old man to my heat, like a little worn-out rill running down a smithy; “you with your strength and youth, and all that, are inclined to be romantic.  I take things as I have known them, going on for seventy years.  Now will you come and meet the wizard, or does your courage fail you?”