It sounded like a voice inside the rock.

After a while he heard it again.

It was a goblin voice--there could be no doubt about that--and this time he could make out the words.
'Hadn't we better be moving ?'it said.
A rougher and deeper voice replied: 'There's no hurry.

That wretched little mole won't be through tonight, if he work ever so hard.

He's not by any means at the thinnest place.' 'But you still think the lode does come through into our house ?' said the first voice.
'Yes, but a good bit farther on than he has got to yet.