“Come along quickly,” whispered Rob, in a faint, panting voice.
“Yes, but steady, my lad. Let’s try and see, our way. We don’t want to be taken by surprise. Get ready an arrow, and I may as well have my knife.”
“No: come on; don’t you know what it was? It was close here somewhere. Can’t you tell?”
“No, my lad, nor you neither. I’ve been a little longer in the woods than you.”
“How can you be so dull?” cried Rob. “Now, quick: it must have been somewhere here. I heard ‘Help’ as plainly as could be.”
“What?”
Just then the cry arose again, not fifty yards away; and unmistakably that word was uttered in a faint, piteous tone:
“Help!”—and again, “Help!”
The pair sprang forward together, crashing recklessly among the branches in the direction of the sound; but as they reached the place from whence it seemed to have come all was still, and there was no response to their cries.
“All a mistake, my lad,” said Shaddy. “We’re done up, and fancied it.”