Several of the watch on deck also caught the cry, but, too astonished to reply, they crowded to the bulwarks and listened with awestruck feelings for a repetition of the hail.
Again the shout, "Golden Hope, ahoy!" pierced the darkness.
"Who can it be?" muttered one of the men. "All hands are aboard, for they were mustered just before eight bells."
"I like it not," replied another, with a shudder. "'Tis the ghosts of the slain men. We'll never reach home after this."
"Run and tell the Cap'n," suggested a third, with more good sense than his comrades.
Just as Captain Jeremy came on deck the hail was again repeated.
"Who are ye, and what d'ye want?" shouted our Captain. He, too, was puzzled by the mysterious cry. Something was shouted in reply, but the words were unintelligible.
"Lower away a boat," ordered Captain Jeremy curtly.
The men moved aft to obey, obviously with reluctance.
"What are ye afraid of?" demanded our commander. "I'll go ashore in her. Take arms and a lantern, and we'll soon sift this business."