Now, a choking, gurgling sound manifested itself. It was a hideous noise— the gasping cry of a drowning person! An agonized exclamation came from Thomas Telford. It was quickly subdued, and the gurgling noise continued.
Finally, the choking was replaced by a gasping voice. A spirit declared itself in ghostly, whispered tones.
"My body lies in the deep. Far in the deep. I am one who was lost— lost— lost when the ship Castris settled to the bottom of the sea."
An awe-inspiring pause; then the weird words continued. "There is one here who wishes to know of that solemn tragedy. One here whom I cannot see. Let that person speak. I shall answer."
"Are you my son?" quavered Thomas Telford. "Are you my son — James Telford?"
"No," came the spirit response. "I can see your son. He is clinging to a small boat. The waves are beating against his body. He lives. Men are drawing him into the boat. He is safe. He is safe. I can see no more. My time has come!"
The voice ended in a spluttering gurgle that told its dreadful significance. The spirit was enacting the event that had ended its mortal career. The choking increased; then faded.
After a short silence, Rajah Brahman called through the dark.
"Are there any who can see farther?"
A whispered voice sighed from the trumpet as it wavered to and fro. It sounded like a wind passing through the treetops. It spoke in tones that were barely distinguishable.