“All right,” said the others. “Now’s our chance.”
Bruce and Arthur each took a lamp, and they started off. Scarcely had they passed out into the hall, than another of those shrill cries came, and at the same time they heard three peculiar knocks. They stopped for a moment to listen. As they stopped, the door opposite opened, and Jiggins appeared. He looked pale and disturbed.
“What’s all the row, Jiggins?” asked Bart. “Row?” said Jiggins; “I don’t know. I don’t like it at all. It don’t somehow sound altogether right. I think you’d better not—”
At this moment Jiggins’s voice was drowned by another howl. He started, and looked at the others in silence.
By this time they heard below the noise of doors opening, and shuffling feet. The voices of Bogud and Billymack, and Johnny Blue, and Muckle, were heard calling up to them. They shouted back, after which the others came up to the hall, and they all stood listening at the foot of the stairs. In the midst of this, other footsteps were heard, and Pat made his appearance.
“I ran out,” said he, “an I saw lights up here—an I came up. Ye’v heard it—haven’t ye’s?”
“Yes,” said Bart; “do you know what it is?”
“Me!” cried Pat; “sure didn’t I hear it close by me room? and didn’t I run for it?”.
“It’s mighty queer,” said Jiggins.
“I think we’d better go down,” said David Digg; “whatever it is, it’s something that we ought not to face.”