The maire shouted a shout of triumph, and climbed the _cheminee_; and when we also had done the necessary gymnastics, we found a hole facing almost due north, all within being dark.

The current blew so determinedly, that matches were of no use, and I was obliged to seek a sheltered corner before I could light a candle; and, when lighted, the candle was with difficulty kept from being blown out.

No ice was visible, nor any signs of such a thing,--nothing but a very irregular narrow cave, with darkness at the farther end.

As we advanced, we found that the floor of the cave came to a sudden end, and the darkness developed into a strange narrow fissure, which reached out of sight upwards, and out of sight below; and down this the maire rolled stones, saying that _there_ was the glaciere, if only one could get at it without a _tourneau_.

Considering the persistency with which he had throughout declared that there was no possible need for a rope, I gave him some of my mind here, in that softened style which his official dignity demanded; but he excused himself by saying that the gentleman who owned the glaciere, and extracted the ice for private use only, was now living at his summer chalet, a mile or two off, and he, the maire, had felt confident that the _tourneau_ would have been fitted up for the season.
On letting a candle down from the termination of the floor, we found that the perpendicular drop was not more than 12 feet, and from the shelf thus reached it seemed very possible to descend to the farther depths of the fissure; but I had become so sceptical, that I persisted in asserting that there was no ice below.