"It was a voice," answered Mogger. "I heard it, I'll swear; my ears never play me false."
"You heard a good many voices, I suppose, seeing that we was most of us talking," retorted one of his companions, with an uneasy catch in the blustering tone which he tried to assume.
"I know all your voices," was the reply. "This was strange, and seemed to come from a distance. Hark!"
The man held up a warning hand. In the death-like stillness which followed I strained my ears to catch the faintest whisper; but no sound reached them save the plash of the water and the heavy breathing of Lewis, who stood close at my side.
"Be hanged to you!" burst out Rodwood. "You'll cry 'wolf' so often that we shall pay no heed to real danger when it comes. What you heard was the seagulls crying.—Confound the man, he's enough to send a nervous old woman into a fit with his prick ears and bladder face!"
The blind man seemed too intent in listening for a repetition of the sounds which he believed he had heard to take much notice of this speech. The convicts joined in a rough jeer, but it was evident that they had not recovered from the shock of the alarm.
"The dog's given no sign," said Lewis presently, looking hard at his four-footed companion. "He'd be uneasy if there was strangers about.—Eh, Joey? Is the coast clear?"
The animal merely wagged its tail, and before the subject could be discussed any further the attention of the party was diverted to another matter.
"Here's something in the water!" exclaimed one of the convicts, who had wandered to the edge of the platform. "Looks like a cask of some sort. Come on, and help to fish it out."
"If I were you I'd leave it where it is," interposed Lewis; "it'll bring you no luck."