The gates were now beginning gently to open one way, and the little bridge to swing round the other way. The din was hushed,—music, laughter, children’s cries, men’s shouts, the whining of dogs, and the tramp of horses. All was still, except the ripple and lapse of water, as a thousand eyes were bent to watch the first vessel that ever passed this way, noiselessly turning the point from the open sea, and gliding along the Cut. It was the first time that the gazers had ever had an opportunity of looking down into a vessel so immediately beneath their feet, (except during the few moments required for shooting a bridge.) It was a singular sight,—some of the tackle almost sweeping the rocks as it passed, and its bulk casting a black moving shadow on the bed of pure sand below the green water. The smutty-faced crew looked up to the thousand eager faces far above their heads, and gave a silent signal that all should be ready to cheer when the gates should be passed.
“There it goes!” said Tim, softly, as he sat on the parapet, with Walter’s arm about his waist, and the vessel passing just beneath him. “There it goes!” he whispered again, turning his head in due proportion to its progress.
“Does it graze the rocks or the sand?” asked Walter, wondering at the boy’s accurate knowledge of what was going on.
“No: but it makes a great stir in the air. I feel the wind upon my face. Tell me when I may speak, Walter. I have something to tell you.”
A vehement shout now rose on all hands, to put an end to Tim’s scruples about speaking amidst a dead silence. All the seamen present pushed, cuffed, and scrambled to get a good sight of the vessel’s farther progress when she had passed the gates. While the rivalry of blue jackets and gruff voices was going on, Tim uttered his strange communication.
“Walter! Walter! I am sure Cuddie is here.”
“My dear boy, what a fancy!”
“Ah! it seems an odd thing; but I heard Cuddie’s voice, just as I heard Adam’s before.”
“You know Adam’s voice well, hearing it so often as you do. But, remember, it is four years since you heard Cuddie’s; and I am afraid it may be more than four years before you hear it again.”
Well! Tim thought it better to be only almost sure.