“No,” said Josh. “I don’t believe he’d come.”
“Perhaps it’s nothing to mind,” said Will, thoughtfully; “only, working machinery is such a ticklish thing. There, I can’t hear it now.”
They stood listening for quite ten minutes, but the unusual sound was not renewed.
“Perhaps it’s somebody in the mill,” said Will. “Let’s go down and look.”
“All right; anything to fill up time,” said Manners, “before we get my eels. There’s no occasion to go up here.”
They descended cautiously through the darkness to the mill-yard, following Will, who made straight for the door leading into the machine-room, the fastening yielding to his hand, for few precautions were used in the shape of bar or bolt in that quiet, retired place; and, as the door swung back, the three stood gazing into the darkness before them, listening and feeling. The whole building seemed to thrill with the vibration caused by the turning wheel, the weight of the water making the entire building quiver as if it were alive.
“Rather weird,” said Manners. “I never was here before at such a time. Does the place always throb in this way?”
“When the wheel is going fast,” replied Will, “it gently shakes the biggest beams.”
“Sounds as if it might shake the place down in time.”
“Oh, no,” said Will; “it’s too solid for that.”