“Yes,” said Mike, in a whisper, as a peculiar hollow plashing sound arose some distance down the low dark passage, and the water at the mouth became disturbed. “Shoal of congers, perhaps—monsters.”
“Pooh! It was another seal coming out till it saw or heard us, and then it gave a wallop and turned back. Look here, I’ll wade in this afternoon if you will.”
Mike spun round on his heels. “No, thank you,” he cried. “Come on, and let’s look round to see if all’s right.”
A few minutes proved that everything was precisely as they had left it; and as soon as they had come to this conclusion, they found themselves opposite the fissure which led into the other cavern.
Mike glanced at the rope and grapnel, and then back inquiringly at his companion.
“No!” said Vince, answering the unspoken question that he could plainly read in Mike’s eyes; “we can have a good afternoon without going there.”
“How? What are we going to do?”
“Fish,” said Vince shortly.
“But I should like to go and see if everything is there just the same as it was.”
“If it has been there for a hundred years, as you say, it’s there all right still. Come on.”