CHAPTER XV

PLANS OF CAMPAIGN

“They are fighting in the heavens: they’re at war beneath the sea— Ay, their ways are mighty different from the ways o’ you an’ me!” DUDLEY CLARK.

DINNER at the Carrignarone Hotel, where the Australians and Sir John were the only guests, was apt to be a lengthy and hilarious affair, with everybody very hungry and very merry, and with jokes flying, much to the disorganization of the waitress, who was wont to spend much of her time in clapping her hand over her mouth and rushing from the room. When the necessities of the meal forbade these hasty retreats, the waitress was apt to explode in short, sharp gasps, greatly endangering whatever dish she happened to be handing.

This evening, however, the younger members of the party were inclined to be unusually silent. Mr. Linton’s vacant seat was in itself depressing; and since it was impossible to talk of the subject seething in their minds, conversation of any kind was not easy. But John O’Neill was like a child; and before long they all fell under the spell of his merriment. Never had they seen him in such a happy mood. Every line was smoothed from his worn face, and his eyes danced with an eager joy that was almost uncanny. All his being seemed transformed in the complete contentment that had possession of him. Deliberately he set himself to make the others laugh; and succeeded so well that they astonished themselves by making an extremely good dinner and feeling, at its conclusion, considerably reinforced for the work that lay before them.

O’Neill led the way out to the little landing-stage near the inn, where the fishing-boats were anchored, their brown nets drying on rough fences on the beach. They sat down on some upturned fish-boxes, looking westward across the water, where the sun was preparing to set in a glory of golden cloud.

“Now I’m going to be sensible,” Sir John said. “I’ve been thinking out a plan of campaign, and I want your views.”

He brought out from his pocket a plan of the inlet, drawn by Jim—a companion to the one Mr. Linton had carried to Captain Aylwin.

“You have ‘Flat Rock’ marked here over the cave,” he said. “Is that the rock you were sitting on when Wally dropped his knife?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” Jim answered. “It has a cleft in it through which the knife went down—just wide enough to admit the knife. It’s really a kind of lid over the rocks that form the first cave.”

“And you said there were loose boulders lying on it?”

“Yes; big fragments of rock. I should think that a big chunk of the cliff must have fallen on it once, probably splitting it and making the crack, and breaking itself as well. A lot of it went down: the biggest piece buried itself partly in the sand.”

“That’s the boulder that almost hides the entrance, then?”

Jim nodded assent.

“It’s about three feet from the entrance and a good deal wider than it,” he said. “There are so many similar rocks lying about that it would be quite easy to miss the cave altogether.”

“Then I take it that the top of the flat rock is above high-water mark?”

“Oh, yes,” Jim answered. “High-water mark is about a foot over the top of the entrance, and the rock is quite four feet higher than that. Otherwise I don’t fancy the waves would have left those big pieces of loose rock lying on it.”

“That’s what I wanted to know. Now listen. Suppose the Germans land, and most of them disappear into the caves, to fish for petrol. What is to hinder two active people, armed with levers, from sending down from the top of the rock enough boulders to block the entrance?”

Jim started, his pipe falling from his hand.

“By—Jove!” he uttered. “What a ripping idea!”

“Why, we could do it as easily as possible,” Wally said, excitedly. “The rocks are quite close to the edge: one of them is so loose that we were rocking it this afternoon. We’ve pretty hefty muscles—we could send half a dozen over in no time with a couple of iron bars. Glory, O’Neill, you _have_ a head!”

“Yes,” said Jim, his eyes dancing—“and they could hardly miss the entrance, because the big boulder in front would prevent their rolling out too far. What chumps we were, not to think of it, Wal!”

“Then you’d have the Germans like rats in a trap—and with no shooting at all!” Norah cried, delightedly.

“Something like that: with luck,” said O’Neill. “Of course, they would have a guard posted outside, and another at the boat. But the main crowd would be inside, I should think.”

“It’s really rather a staggering notion, it’s so simple,” Jim said. “And I don’t see how it can go wrong.”

“It certainly simplifies our plan of action,” O’Neill remarked. “And it doesn’t beat us, even if it fails; you would have to jump down among the boulders, in that case, and do the best you could with your revolvers as the people inside came out—which they would do in a hurry. My own little game must be the boat and the guard at it. It’s rather important that it should not be allowed to get back; a submarine without a collapsible is rather like a horse with a lame leg.” He turned his face towards the sunset, its expression of child-like happiness stronger than ever. “Wow! isn’t it going to be a jewel of a fight!”

Jim laughed.

“Aren’t you the Berserk!” he said. “But I don’t much like being separated. You’ll be careful, O’Neill, won’t you, and keep well behind cover? There are plenty of boulders near where they must land.”

“Rather!” Sir John answered. “For once in my life I have a job that matters, and I’m certainly not going to risk carrying it out by getting shot unnecessarily. They won’t leave a strong guard at the boat: a submarine crew is too limited to use many men, and then, so far as we know, they feel perfectly safe, and have no reason to take extra precautions. Speed will be their main idea; they must make the most of the short time between low-water and daylight.” He swung round towards Norah, smiling at her. “How are you feeling, mate?”

“I’m feeling very cheerful,” said Norah, whose face bore out her words. “There isn’t nearly so much danger for the boys on top of the rock, is there, Sir John?”

“Certainly not; if they can block the entrance from above they may not even have to use their revolvers—which will be a sad blow to them,” O’Neill answered. “I’m always against promiscuous shooting, especially when there are ladies present—even to satisfy fire-eaters like Wally and Jim!”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right, Sir John?”

“I’ll be as right as possible,” he assured her, laughing at her anxious face. “All I have to do is to sit comfortably behind my little rock and pot at fat Germans; and when you hear me potting, you can light the beacon and crawl away with discreet haste. I hope you realize that we couldn’t carry out this plan at all if we hadn’t you as fire-lighter: we couldn’t do without a fourth hand.”

“I’m so glad,” Norah said, happily. “When do we start, Sir John?”

“We’ll slip out about half-past nine,” he answered. “You and I will stroll along in one direction, and the boys in another, and we can meet near the northern headland where we must have the beacon. Each of us must carry a bottle of petrol—I’ll see to getting them ready; and as we go we can pick up stray bits of wood. There is driftwood everywhere on the beach, and we can collect plenty beyond the inlet: I don’t want to go there, nor do I want to show up on the north headland while there is much light. We don’t know where the Germans you saw this evening may be hiding—though I would think, judging from the direction in which they were going, that their boat must be hidden in a tiny bay that lies south of the inlet. Still, it doesn’t do to risk things.”

“I suppose,” said Wally, “those fellows with the boat will stay wherever they are hiding until nearly low-water; then they’ll pull round to the inlet, and the submarine will bob up, and they’ll take the other men on board and go ashore after the petrol.”

“That’s the most likely thing,” O’Neill said. “We must be in position long before that. A good thing it’s a warm night: still, we shall have to lie still for a good while, and you’d better dress warmly, all of you.” He looked at his watch. “Nine o’clock, and time we began to get ready. There are crowbars in the old shed Con used as a garage, boys; I noticed them this morning. I’m going after bottles for the petrol.”

He stood up, looking at the three young faces. They were all eager; but it was as though a living light glowed in his own dark eyes. He held his gallant head high, the twisted body forgotten.

“I’d like to say ‘Thank you,’ only I don’t know how,” he said. “If you hadn’t come, this wouldn’t have happened; and now, whatever comes, I’ll always have it to remember that just once in my life I had a chance of a man’s job.” His light stride carried him quickly across the beach.