“Pooh, pooh!” laughed Mr. Evans. “What an idea! You are as silly as Katie, Rob. I don’t want you to get strange ideas into your head. But--well, come along, since you are so anxious that the famous water should not be wasted. I want to cover up the well tightly, so that no one can fall in.” Downstairs they went once more, Rob carrying the pail half full of water, which he poured back into the well. With a glad _splash_ it joined the hidden spring far, far below, and again Rob felt sure that he caught the sound of a whispering voice, tinkling, trickling, sighing, sobbing, as if it were trying to say something to him, perhaps to thank him. He bent over the well, listening eagerly. But his father pulled him back by the hand. “Come, Rob,” he said. “I want to put the cover in place, and then we must go upstairs. It is time that you were in bed.” So they let down the cover with a _bang!_ and Rob went away with his father out of the dark cellar and into the gaslight. But the sound of those queer little noises followed after him, upstairs and upstairs, and even after he was in bed. II The queer little sounds followed Rob upstairs, and even after he was in bed he could hear them echoing from far below in the cellar. At first they were only little trickly sounds, like water _seekling_ afar off. But by and by, when the house was very still, because everybody except Rob had fallen sound asleep, the noises grew louder and plainer. They grew into a soft murmur, sometimes a sob, sometimes the whisper of a little silver voice. And at the same time there was a gentle knocking. Rob listened and listened as hard as ever he could, and he said to himself,-- “Surely, Katie is right. There is something strange about the cellar, and I think it comes from the old well. What can it be?” Finally the voice sounded so loud and so plain that Rob could hear distinctly what it was saying, and it seemed to be talking to him. “Let me out; ah, let me out!” cried the silvery, trickly voice, and again Rob heard the knocking. “Good little boy, you who would not let the water of the Indian spring be wasted, come and free me from my prison of so many years.”