CHAPTER XIV

A FAMILY MATTER

“To count the life of battle good, And clear the land that gave you birth, And dearer yet the brotherhood That binds the brave of all the earth.” HENRY NEWBOLT.

JOHN O’NEILL was dressing for dinner: an operation which consisted in putting on a clean soft collar and brushing his hair, since the travellers’ possibilities of toilet were limited to one small kit-bag apiece. To him there came a discreet knock on the door; and Wally and Jim, suitably apologetic, appeared.

“You look like conspirators,” said Sir John, surveying the pair. “What’s the matter?”

“We’ve struck a job that’s a size too large for us,” Jim answered. “So we’ve come meekly to you.”

O’Neill’s short laugh was rather bitter.

“Too large for _you_!” he said. “If that’s the case, it would be rather an out-size for me, I should say.” His look travelled over the two tall lads, wiry and powerful. “Unless—it isn’t money, I suppose, Jim?”

“No, indeed; it’s brains!” Jim answered. “And we haven’t got any. Anyhow, we don’t know how to handle this situation.”

“Well, I’m at your disposal,” Sir John said. “Fire away—there’s plenty of time before dinner.”

“We’ve found a little submarine supply-depôt,” Jim said. “What does one do?”

O’Neill dropped his brush, and stared at him.

“You say it much as you might say, ‘We’ve found a mushroom: how do we cook it?’” he uttered. “It isn’t a joke, Jim?”

“Indeed it’s not,” the boy said, quickly. “It’s because it’s so horribly serious that we’ve come to you.”

“But—where?”

“In a little inlet about a couple of miles up the coast,” Jim said. “Funny little shut-in place: you could sail past it outside and never notice it, the headlands are so close together.” He described their discovery briefly.

O’Neill sat down on the side of his bed and knitted his brows.

“Of course, the first thing is to get a patrol-boat down,” he said. “As it happens, I know Bob Aylwin, who is in command of one of them: his headquarters are at Port Brandon, and he could get here quite quickly.”

“Then we must telegraph, I suppose,” Jim said. “But we were wondering if it would be safe; things leak out so quickly in a tiny place like this, and you know that people ashore are said to be helping the submarines in some districts. One doesn’t like to misjudge anyone, but——” He paused, knitting his brows.

“One has to suspect every one,” O’Neill said, shortly. “And telegrams are horribly public things.”

“If only the motor were available!” Wally said, anxiously.

“But it is!”

They stared at him.

“Didn’t you know Con was back? He turned up early this morning, with the things he went for: and he and a handy man he picked up have been inside her bonnet ever since. He came in just now to report that she is ready to start.”

“Oh, good business!” ejaculated Jim. “Will you send him?”

O’Neill thought swiftly.

“I can trust Con absolutely,” he said. “But he’s an ignorant lad, and he is lame. Would your father go with him, do you think?”

“He’ll do anything,” Jim said, quickly.

“Wally, will you bring him here?” O’Neill asked. “Hurry!” He sprang to the table and opened a touring map of Donegal. “Where’s your inlet, Jim?”

“Here,” Jim replied, promptly, indicating a tiny indentation on the rugged coast-line.

O’Neill drew a line round it with a red pencil.

“It will be quite clear on Aylwin’s charts, of course,” he said. “This will be sufficient guide to begin with. Now can you draw a rough plan of the cave and the path down to the water? I’ll explain to your father.”

Mr. Linton came hurrying in, and at Sir John’s request Wally told him the story, illustrating it with Jim’s drawing.

“I know the inlet,” David Linton said; “I walked past it the other day when I was out for an early-morning stroll. Queer, land-locked corner: I marked it down as a good bathing-place for you youngsters.”

“That’s excellent, for you’ll be able to direct them by land, if necessary. Now, will you go in the motor to Port Brandon, Mr. Linton? it’s only twenty miles, and Con knows the roads. They’re not good, but he’ll get you there quickly.”

“I’ll do anything you like,” David Linton said. “What will you do here?”

Sir John had taken instinctive command of the situation. For a few moments he did not speak.

“Aylwin must use his own judgment about coming,” he said. “He may not want to appear here in daylight, for fear of scaring the enemy away; on the other hand, they may be here already, lying snugly on the bottom of the inlet, and only waiting for night and low water to get the petrol. You say the pool was full of it, Jim?”

“So far as I could tell. I poked with a stick from one side, and waded in from the other. The tins are stacked in it; I don’t think they can have taken any out.”

“All the more likely that they will soon be in,” O’Neill said. “I knew they had been in the north lately; the brutes nearly got one of our transports. But if Aylwin shows up off the mouth of the inlet he may scare them away altogether. If one knew what was best to do! We’ve got to bag them!” His eyes were dancing. “Great Scott! what a chance it is!”

There came a knock at the door, and Norah’s voice.

“Is dad here?”

The conspirators looked at each other guiltily.

“Norah must be told,” Jim said. “She’s perfectly safe; and we can’t carry on this without explaining to her, poor kid. May she come in, O’Neill?”

Sir John was already at the door. Norah, her face troubled, spoke hurriedly.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for dad or the boys. Are they here, Sir John?”

“Come in, if you don’t mind,” O’Neill said, holding the door open. He closed it carefully behind her. “We’re having a council of war, Norah, and——”

Jim interrupted him, watching his sister’s face.

“Is there anything wrong with you, Nor?”

“There’s something I thought I’d better tell you,” Norah said. “I went along the road just now with some sweets for those babies in the end cottage, beyond the village; and coming back I got over the bank into the field to get some wild flowers. Just as I was going to climb back I heard voices, and I peeped through the hedge and saw two men—men in rough clothes. They had been buying things in the village, for they had parcels, and some bread that wasn’t wrapped up. So I bobbed down behind the hedge until they had gone past—they didn’t look nice, somehow.”

“Yes,” said Jim. “Did they see you?”

“No, it’s a lonely bit of the road, and there are no houses. I don’t suppose they even thought of any one being there. And, Jim, they were talking in German!”

“Are you sure?”

“Perfectly. I couldn’t make out what they said, for their voices were very low—and anyhow I never learned enough German at school to understand it when spoken. But I do know the sound of it, and I caught one or two words.”

O’Neill drew a long breath.

“If that U-boat isn’t lying on the bottom of the inlet I’ll eat my hat!” he said. “Probably they put up a collapsible boat last night and sent her round to some other beach—they’ll take risks to get fresh food. And to-night she’ll paddle back and get her cargo of petrol, and the submarine will take her on board and slide out to do a little more pirate-work. But we may have a few remarks to make first. If I only knew what Aylwin would want to do!”

He sat down, and put his face in his hands. Presently he looked up.

“Jim—is there driftwood on the shore?”

“Lots,” said Jim, briefly.

“That’s all right. Could we get some up on one of the headlands?”

“Oh—easily. We were bathing off the northern point, and there’s quite an easy way up—it isn’t nearly as high as the southern headland. Do you mean enough for a fire?”

“Yes. Mr. Linton, will you tell Captain Aylwin that he need not come right in to shore. We will build a signal-fire on the northern headland, and watch the cave at low tide—that will be about two o’clock in the morning. If the Germans come ashore, we’ll light the fire—we can carry up a few bottles of petrol from the motor supply to soak the drift-wood. Aylwin can have a boat ready and come in if he sees the blaze; unless he sees it he will know they won’t land for another twenty-four hours, for they’ll never try it in the daytime. Is that clear?”

“Quite. I have only to describe the place to Captain Aylwin, tell him about the signal-fire, and accompany him if he needs me. Otherwise, I suppose I may break the speed-limit in coming back?”

“Of course. There’s a wireless station up there—they’ll get Aylwin for you. If he should be away they will know where to send a message.”

“Very well. And what will you three do?” David Linton’s eyes lingered hungrily on his son.

“We can only get the beacon ready, and then watch. Two of us can hide near the cave, and the third must be up on the point to light the fire if he hears a shot. If they come—well, we must let them land and get to the cave; and then we must try to prevent their getting back.”

“You will be heavily outnumbered.”

“Yes—but the advantage of surprise will be on our side, and we can take cover. I do not dare to get help; it may not be safe to trust anyone.”

“Very well,” David Lint on said, quietly. “Will you order the motor, O’Neill? I can be off in three minutes.”

He shook hands with the boys, wishing them luck very gravely knowing that in all probability it was the last time he should speak to them. Jim went downstairs with him, without a word.

Con and the motor were at the door.

“You’ll be there by eight o’clock, with luck,” O’Neill said. “Remember, you’re racing, Con. And——” He dropped his voice. “I’ll keep him safe for you if I can, sir.’

“Thanks,” said David Linton. He shook hands with his boy again. The motor whirred off in a cloud of dust.

They went up the staircase in silence, to where Norah and Wally waited for them.

“Wally has told me all about it,” said Norah, pale, but steady-eyed. “Oh, Sir John, I could help! Do let me.”

“You can help by keeping out of harm’s way,” he told her, gently.

“And you all fighting!”

“Norah, dear, we can’t have you in it,” O’Neill said. “I know it’s hard: far harder than anything we have to do. But you have too much sense not to know that this isn’t woman’s work.”

Norah choked back a sob.

“I know you couldn’t have me where there’s shooting,” she said. “But I can do something, if you’ll let me: and in Australia women always did help men when there was need, and they didn’t talk about things being ‘women’s work.’ Women had to fight the blacks, too.”

“Norah, we _can’t_ let you fight,” Jim said. “Be sensible, old kiddie.”

“I don’t want to fight,” said poor Norah. “At least, I do, but I know that’s out of the question. But why on earth shouldn’t I light the beacon?”

“Because there would be risk,” O’Neill said roughly. “Norah, I hate hurting you. Don’t make it harder for us.”

“I don’t want to, indeed I don’t,” Norah faltered. “But . . .” There was a lump in her throat, and she turned away, fighting for her voice. Jim’s arm round her shoulders steadied her.

“You know you’ll be outnumbered,” she said. “You can’t tell any of these people, and there are only the three of you until daddy brings help. And one of you is going to light the beacon! If you let me do it, it leaves you all free to fight; and there’s no risk to me. No one will be on the point. I’d only have to light a match and get out of the way.”

“No,” said Wally, his young voice strained. “You aren’t going to do it.”

“I know what it will be,” Norah said. “The one of you who lights the beacon will come tearing down the rocks to help the others, and the Germans will just shoot him easily. I needn’t do that; I can hide up on the point. There isn’t any risk—not a bit.”

“Oh, Norah, Norah, I wish you’d gone to bed!” uttered Jim. “Don’t you see we can’t let you?”

“No, I don’t,” said his sister. “You haven’t any right to stop me. You know it will be only a chance if you three can stop the submarine going out if help doesn’t come in time. And if there are only two of you, it’s so much less chance. Dad’s gone away looking dreadful, only he wouldn’t say a word, because he knows he hasn’t any right to hinder you.” Norah was sobbing openly now. “And you have no right to lose any chances. We can’t let that beastly thing go out, to sink other ships full of women and kiddies like the _Lusitania_ babies. Goodness knows I’m f-fool enough,” said poor Norah. “But at least I can put a match to a fire!”

“She’s quite right,” Jim said, quietly. “All serene, Nor. Buck up, old kiddie!”

“Jim—you can’t——!” Wally burst out.

“I can’t agree to it,” John O’Neill said, wretchedly.

“She’s quite right,” Jim repeated. “The job is bigger than we are. It’s only a question, as she says, if all three of us can check those people at the cave: and if we can get the beacon lit in any other way, we simply have no right to reduce our number by one-third. There really should be no danger: she has only to put a match to it, and get away before the firelight shows her up.” He spoke firmly, but his young face was drawn and haggard. “I am quite sure dad would say the same.”

“I know he would,” Norah said.

“And I thought this was rather a lark!” said Wally, with a groan. He turned and walked to the window.

“If you are certain your father would be satisfied, I have no more to say,” O’Neill said. “It certainly makes an enormous difference: three can stop a rush where two would be hopelessly outclassed. And the man coming down from the headland wouldn’t have a chance: the people on the submarine would get him in a minute.”

“Remember,” said Wally sharply, turning from the window, “as soon as your match is lit, duck, and crawl away. That old wood will flare wildly directly it’s lit, if it’s soaked in petrol. Don’t wait a second.”

“I won’t,” said Norah, and nodded at him cheerfully. “Don’t worry; I’ll be all right.”

“All right! I think it’s awful to let you do it!” Wally uttered.

“Wally, I’ve _got_ to. Don’t you see I have?” Norah put her hand on his arm.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he said. “All our lives put together don’t matter twopence if we can put an end to even one submarine. I know we must let you. But I wish to goodness we’d left you in Australia!”

“Wally!” Norah flushed scarlet.

“I say . . . I didn’t mean to be a beast,” the boy said, contritely. “Only—I just can’t stand it!” He went out, his swift strides echoing down the corridor.

“Don’t mind him, little chap: he’s only worried about you,” Jim said, gently. “He’ll be all right when he comes back.”

“At any rate, we mustn’t have you bothered,” Sir John said, patting Norah’s shoulder. “You’ll need to be quite calm and cool for your job, and for getting away quietly after it. And I really don’t believe you’ll be in any danger; the Germans can’t possibly rake that point with gunfire from the submarine. They might hit a standing figure, but not one lying flat. And I hope the men on shore will be too busy to take interest in beacons.” There was a grim note in his voice, but his face was extraordinarily happy.

“The more I think of it,” Jim said, “the more likely it seems that we’re here just in time. You see, they can’t get into the cave except at low tide; and of course they want darkness. But there’s very little darkness just now; it’s twilight until nearly ten o’clock, and then dawn comes not long after three, or even earlier. The tide is out just before dawn: the very best time for them to work. In a few days it would not suit them nearly so well.”

“Quite so,” O’Neill said. “Everything seems to point to to-night or to-morrow. I would hope with all my heart for to-night if I were sure of Aylwin getting here in time; for every day means more risk of their suspecting us, especially if they are in league with any of the people on shore. The Irish peasants are very quick to suspect a stranger.”

“Oh, I hope it’s to-night!” Norah cried. “But, Sir John, supposing we can—I mean, you and the boys can——”

“Not a bit of it—it’s certainly ‘we,’” said O’Neill, laughing.

“Well, supposing we can cut off the men who come ashore. What will the submarine do? We can’t touch her.”

“There’s where Aylwin comes in, of course,” O’Neill said. “If we can cut off the shore party and keep them from rejoining the submarine, I don’t think she can get away. She would not have much fuel, for one thing; and for another, she does not carry enough men to spare those we may have the luck to bag. She would probably submerge; but she can’t remain below more than twenty-four hours; and then the destroyer would get her easily. Of course, there is a lot of supposition about it all. I am calculating by the little I know of submarines, but the Germans may have a later and more powerful pattern that I don’t understand, with a larger crew. We can only do our best. It ought to be a good fight, anyhow.”

A knock came, and Jim opened the door.

“The misthress is afther sending me up to say the dinner’ll be spoilt on ye,” said a patient voice. “Them little chickens do be boiled to rags; ’tis that tender they are they’d fall asunder if you did but prod them with your finger!”

“We’ll hurry, Mary,” said Jim. “Come on, you people.”

“Dinner!” said Norah. “Oh, I don’t believe I could eat any.”

“Yes, you could,” said Wally, appearing suddenly. “Little girls who won’t eat dinner can’t light bonfires!” He tucked her hand into his arm and raced her down the staircase. At the foot, he stopped.

“Norah, I’m sorry,” he said. “Is it all right?”

“Of course it’s all right,” said Norah. “But you were never cross with me before, in all your life, and don’t you do it again!”

“I never got you mixed up in a war before!” said Wally soberly. “Don’t you do it again, either!”