“Well, let’s get some of the crystals,” said Gwyn; “though it does seem a pity to break the walls of such a lovely place. But we must have some. Be quiet, Grip!”

“Let’s have some lunch first,” said Joe.

“Nay, gen’lemen,” said Hardock, whose face looked clay-coloured in the feeble light. “I don’t think we’ll stop for no crystals, nor no lunch, to-day, for, I don’t want to scare you, but I feel sure that there’s something very wrong.”

“Wrong! What can be wrong?” cried Gwyn, quickly.

“That’s more than I can say, sir,” replied the man; “but we’ve just heard something as we didn’t ought to hear; and if you’ve any doubt about it, look at that dog.”

“You’re not alarmed at the barking of a dog?” cried Gwyn, contemptuously.

“No, no, not a bit; but dogs have a way of knowing things that beats us. He’s barking at something he knows is wrong, and it’s that which makes me feel scared though I don’t know what it is.”


Chapter Forty Seven.