It was as if some mysterious influence held them in its power, forbidding speech, holding their eyes in staring expectancy straight ahead, filling them with indefinable sensations that made their hearts beat faster and their blood tingle.
Softly, from far ahead, at last there came a murmur.

It was like the first gentle whispering of an approaching wind, the soughing of a breath among the pines at the top of the chasm.

But a wind among the trees rises, and then dies away, like a chord struck low and gently upon some soft-toned instrument.

This whisper that came up the chasm remained.

It grew no louder, and sometimes it almost faded away, until the straining ears of those who listened could barely detect it; but after a moment it was there again, as plainly as before.