“We 'll not have long to wait for that,” cried the other; “see there!”
I lifted my eyes as he spoke, and beheld the pink stain of coming day rising above the top of a large mountain.
“That's Howth,” said Darby, seizing with eagerness the proof of my returning senses.
“Come, press on as fast as you can,” said one of the men; “we must catch the ebb, or we'll never do it.”
“Where does she lie?” said Darby, in a low whisper.
“Under the cliffs, in Bolskaton Bay,” said the last speaker, whom I now perceived by his dress and language to be a sailor.
My curiosity was now excited to the utmost to know whither we were bound; and with an effort I articulated the one word, “Where?”
Darby's eyes brightened as I spoke; he pressed my hand firmly within his, but made no reply. Attributing his silence to caution, I pressed him no further; and indeed, already my former indifference came back on me, and I felt listless as before.
“Turn off there to the right,” cried the sailor to the driver. And suddenly we left the highroad, and entered a narrow byway, which seemed to lead along the side of the mountain close to the water's edge. Before we had proceeded far in this direction, a long, low whistle was heard from a distance.
“Stop there, stop!” said the sailor, as he knelt upon the car, and replied to the signal. “Ay, all right; there they are,” said he, as, pointing to a little creek between the rocks below us, we saw a small rowboat with six men lying on their oars.