“What does that mean?” cried Neb. “Was it the devil who rang it?”
No one answered.
“The weather is stormy,” observed Herbert. “Might not its influence of electricity—”
Herbert did not finish his phrase. The engineer, towards whom all eyes were turned, shook his head negatively.
“We must wait,” said Gideon Spilett. “If it is a signal, whoever it may be who has made it, he will renew it.”
“But who do you think it is?” cried Neb.
“Who?” answered Pencroft, “but he—”
The sailor’s sentence was cut short by a new tinkle of the bell.
Harding went to the apparatus, and sent this question to the corral:—
“What do you want?”