But just before looking to see if it had slipped in by some opening outside, it was necessary to make sure that the back wall had no orifice.
Candle in hand, the boatswain began to examine this wall.
John Block could only see on its surface a few fissures which were too narrow for the albatross or Bob to get through. But at the bottom a hole, twenty to twenty-five inches wide, was hollowed out in the ground, a hole big enough to take the bird and the child.
Meantime, however, the albatross’s cry had ceased, and all were afraid that Captain Gould, the boatswain, and Fritz must have been mistaken.
Then Jenny took John Block’s place, and stooping down level with the hole, she called the bird several times. The albatross knew her voice as well as it knew her caress.
A cry answered her, and almost immediately the bird came out through the hole.
“Bob! Bob!” Jenny called again.
The child did not answer, did not appear. Was he not with the bird behind the wall? His mother could not restrain a cry of despair.
“Wait!” said the boatswain.
He crouched down and enlarged the hole, throwing the sand out behind him. In a few minutes he had made the hole large enough for him to squeeze into it.