At this moment, a noise, as of human voices, was heard at a distance; this caused a momentary pause, and, the whole party stood still and listened.
The murmurs and shouts that now arose in the distance were indistinct and confused.
"What can all this mean?" said Marchdale; "there is something very strange about it. I cannot imagine a cause for so unusual an occurrence."
"Nor I," said Sir Francis Varney, looking suspiciously at Henry Bannerworth.
"Upon my honour I know neither what is the cause nor the nature of the sounds themselves."
"Then we can easily see what is the matter from yonder hillock," said the admiral; "and there's Jack Pringle, he's up there already. What's he telegraphing about in that manner, I wonder?"
The fact was, Jack Pringle, hearing the riot, had thought that if he got to the neighbouring eminence he might possibly ascertain what it was that was the cause of what he termed the "row," and had succeeded in some degree.
There were a number of people of all kinds coming out from the village, apparently armed, and shouting. Jack Pringle hitched up his trousers and swore, then took off his hat and began to shout to the admiral, as he said,—
"D——e, they are too late to spoil the sport. Hilloa! hurrah!"
"What's all that about, Jack?" inquired the admiral, as he came puffing along. "What's the squall about?"