Meanwhile, Keona re-entered the cavern with a diabolical grin on his sable countenance, which, although it savoured more of evil than of any other quality, had in it, nevertheless, a strong dash of ferocious jovialty, as if he were aware that he had got his enemies into a trap, and could amuse himself by playing with them as a cat does with a mouse.
Soon the savage began to step cautiously, partly because of the rugged nature of the ground, and the thick darkness that surrounded him, and partly in order to avoid alarming the three adventurers who were advancing towards him from the other extremity of the cavern. In a few minutes he halted, for the footsteps and the whispering voices of his pursuers became distinctly audible to him, although all three did their best to make as little noise as possible.
“Wot a ’orrid place it is!” exclaimed Bumpus, in a hoarse angry whisper, as he struck his shins violently, for at least the tenth time, against a ledge of rock—
“I do b’lieve, boy, that there’s nobody here, and that we’d as well ’bout ship and steer back the way we’ve comed; tho’ it is a ’orrible coast for rocks and shoals.”
To this, Corrie, not being in a talkative humour, made no reply.
“D’ye hear me, boy?” said Jo, aloud, for he was somewhat shaken again by the dead silence that followed the close of his remark.
“All right, I’m here,” said Corrie, meekly.
“Then why don’t ye speak,” said Jo, tartly.
“I’d advise you not to speak so loud,” retorted the boy.
“Is the dark ’un there?” inquired Bumpus.