Perhaps that was because I had learned their language."
"Learned their language!" I exclaimed, staring in amazement.
"Well, perhaps that's putting it a little too strong; but I have learned
enough to establish a pretty good understanding with them. There's
nothing like working together to make intelligent creatures comprehend
one another."
"But what kind of a language is it, then?" I asked.
"A language to make your hair stand on end," put in Jack. "The language
that ghosts speak, I reckon! Not that I understand the least little bit
of it, but I judge from what Edmund says."
With increasing bewilderment I looked at our leader. He smiled, and then
looked thoughtful for a moment before again speaking. At last he said:
"It's a subject that I may be better able to discuss after I have learned
more about it. All I can say at present is that it appears to be a kind
of telepathy. You know that their voices seem hardly more cultivated, or
capable of regular articulation, than those of mere brutes; and, besides,
they have a certain horror of sound. These smiths wear coverings over
their ears to minify the noise of their hammering.
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