Excitedly they all joined in the hail that followed. The answer was more distinct.
Dick had found an oar, and he slowly propelled the boat in the direction from which the answering cries seemed to come. Occasionally they bumped against the marble pillars, but these collisions did no damage.
Soon they could hear the answers to their cries and knew they were drawing nearer to the unknown person or persons who were thus responding.
Suddenly a tiny gleam of light showed amid the pillars at some distance.
“Looks like that’s a match, pard,” observed Buckhart. “I reckon I’ll strike one, too.”
He did so, but the other light disappeared even as he held his own above his head. Apparently his match was seen, for the voice of a man reached them, urging them to come in that direction.
By answering call for call they continued to draw nearer to the strangers, for they soon heard enough to satisfy them that at least two persons besides themselves were afloat on the bosom of that buried lake.
“One is a woman!” asserted Dick.
Lifting his voice, he asked:
“Who are you?”