Can't you hear them rattling their shanks and talking all round us ?" "Certainly I do hear something," I answered, "but I think it must be the echo of our own voices." "Well, let us hold our jaw, sir, and perhaps they will hold theirs, for this kind of conversation ain't nice." So we were silent, but the strange murmuring still went on, coming apparently from the wall of the cave behind us, and it occurred to me that I had once heard something like it before, though at the time I could not think where.

Afterwards I remembered that it was when, as a boy, I had been taken to see the Whispering Gallery in St.Paul's Cathedral in London.
Half-an-hour or so went by in this fashion, and still there were no signs of the Abati or of our missing pair.

Quick began to fumble among his clothes.

I asked him what he was doing.
"Can't help thinking I've got a wax match somewhere, Doctor.

I remember feeling it in one of the pockets of this coat on the day before we left London, and thinking afterwards it wasn't safe to have had it packed in a box marked 'Hold.' Now if only I could find that match, we have got plenty of torches, for I've stuck to my bundle all through, although I never thought of them when the lamps were going out." Having small belief in the Sergeant's match, I made no answer, and the search went on till presently I heard him ejaculate: "By Jingo, here it is, in the lining.