"Canaris," he whispered, "do you hear anything?"
An interval of silence followed, inexpressibly painful to Guy, and then the Greek cried excitedly, "Yes, I hear running water. It comes from the other side of the cliff."
"Then I am not mistaken," was Guy's joyful exclamation. "We both hear it. It can be no delusion."
Then his heart sank as he thought of the wall of rock before them.
"It is the outlet of the river," he said bitterly, "only a few yards distant, and it might as well be a thousand miles."
Remembering what Sir Arthur had told them, he looked anxiously at the surface of the lake, but the water was calm and quiet, and the raft hung motionless.
"The outlet is far beneath the surface," said Canaris. "You can tell that by the sound. If it were near the top we would be instantly sucked under."
Impelled by an irresistible impulse Guy seized the torch and held it above his head.
"Look! Look!" he cried, in a voice that trembled with excitement. "The cliff slants at an angle. There are crevices to hold one's hands and feet. Make no noise, Canaris; don't wake the rest, but help me to reach that ledge yonder and I will see where this leads."
The cliff slanted indeed, but at an almost imperceptible angle. The raft tilted slightly as Canaris pushed Guy up the face of the rock, but the latter succeeded in reaching a small ledge six feet above the water.