'Hollo!' said a voice from the boat; but it wasn't Jem's voice.

'Whereabouts is your landing-place?' said the voice; 'it's so thick, I
can't see.'

'Why, Jem isn't there, grandfather!' I said, catching hold of his arm.

'No,' said my grandfather; 'I knew there was something wrong with the
lad.'

He called out to the man in the boat the direction in which he was to
row, and then he and I went down the steps together, and waited for the
boat to come up.

There were four men in the boat. They were sailors, and strangers to me.
One of them, the one whose voice we had heard, got out to speak to my
grandfather.

'Something's wrong,' said my grandfather, before he could begin;
'something's wrong with that poor lad.'

'Yes,' said the man, 'we've got him here; and he pointed to the boat.

A cold shudder passed over me as he said this, and I caught sight of
something lying at the men's feet at the bottom of the boat.

'What's wrong with him? Has he had an accident? Is he much hurt?'

'He's dead,' said the man solemnly.