For some moments Burgoyne was completely dumbfounded. He could form no satisfactory reason for the Old Man's emphatic decision, unless Captain Blair was labouring under a delusion owing to a hitherto unsuspected mental trouble.
It seemed incredible that Alwyn's carefully-thought-out plans and careful preparations (although the latter were only in the initial stages) should have been drastically turned down, especially as they had met with the approval and gained the co-operation of every other surviving officer of theDonibristle.
Burgoyne uttered no word of protest. It was not for him to reason why—at least audibly. His sense of duty—impressed upon him from his early days of Osborne—had taught him to receive and carry out orders unquestioningly. So he held his peace and waited.
"I suppose you'd like my reasons for the decision, Mr. Burgoyne?" asked the Old Man.
"I would, sir, if you have no objection."
"Not in the least," rejoined the skipper. "The chief one is that there is no immediate necessity for you to take this step. As things go we have nothing much to complain about." ("Exactly what Miss Vivian said," thought the Third Officer.) "It is reasonable to assume that Porfirio cannot carry on for long, and release will come possibly long before you could reach the Marshall Islands. It's a tremendous voyage for an open boat, and the results gained, if any, would not justify the risk. Then, again, there's the question of reprisals. The pirates would miss the boat and draw perfectly logical conclusions. They would revenge themselves on those who would be still in their power, even to the extent of committing cold-blooded murder. No doubt you think I'm a bit in a blue funk, but I have the advantage of years, and that has taught me to look ahead and not wait till I see a rock under my bows. However, I don't want to moralize. I hope you see my point?"
"Yes, sir," replied Alwyn.
"However," continued the Old Man briskly, "there's no reason why you shouldn't carry on with your preparations. If occasion should arise for someone to leave the island in a hurry, it is as well to be ready for the emergency. But, until occasion does arise, it is folly to precipitate matters, and deliberately seek the path of a typhoon when we are bowling along before a steady breeze. By the by, what has that wash-out Miles been doing?"
"He was placed in Mr. Branscombe's party working on board theDonibristle, sir."
"H'm. I'll tell Branscombe to keep a pretty sharp eye on him. Captain Davis informs me that Miles seems rather fond of that ruffian Strogoff."
"Is that so?" remarked Alwyn. "I was under the impression that Strogoff was sent on board theMalfilio."
"He was aboard the oldDonibristleyesterday, at any rate," declared the skipper. "Miles knows about Miss Vivian, and, although I cannot say definitely, I think he's the sort of man who wouldn't hesitate to give the show away if he could make his own case good."
The seriousness of Captain Blair's words took Burgoyne aback. The Third Officer remembered that little incident of the chocolate. It was but a straw that showed the direction of the wind. Miles had proved himself to be a man of no moral fibre. To what depths would he descend to obtain consideration from the villainous Strogoff?
"That is why you wanted the boat held in readiness, sir," he asked. "To remove Miss Vivian from the island in the event of discovery?"
"You've hit it, Mr. Burgoyne. The sooner the preparations are completed the better; but, of course, there may be no necessity for them. I quite agree with you that Minalto is the right man for the job, with you in charge of the boat."
"And Colonel Vivian."
"He won't be going," declared the skipper. "I pointed out to him the almost unsurmountable disadvantages of having a cripple in the boat. His health, too, isn't at all good. He quite saw the force of my contention."
"We are speaking, sir, as if the lifeboat were already in our possession."
"Aye," rejoined the Old Man. "It's a rough proposition, Mr. Burgoyne, but from what you've told me the task is not beyond your ingenuity."
That night Burgoyne carefully revised the altered situation. The perplexing factor in the case was the uncertainty of the time when the boat might be required. He could not completely grasp the meaning of Captain Blair's decision to refrain from action until Miss Vivian was in immediate danger. It was obvious that the boat must be seized, taken to the western side of the harbour, and provisioned all within a few hours, and be out of sight before dawn. There wasn't the faintest hope of being able to conceal the boat for several days prior to the dash for freedom. The mere fact that the lifeboat had been removed from the beach would be sufficient to put the pirates on the qui vive.
And, again, although a fair amount of provisions had been set aside to victual the boat, nothing had yet been done to hide them in the cave. Neither had any of the people in the secret been able to obtain a receptacle of any description to carry water, and fresh water was indispensable for the voyage.
Nor had the cave been explored. Branscombe had collected enough rope to make a three-inch hawser of two hundred and fifty feet in length, more than sufficient to reach from the top of the cliff to the beach, but the actual descent had not yet been attempted.
Clearly a stupendous task confronted Burgoyne. Much had been accomplished, but more remained to be done in secrecy and with dispatch.
On the following morning Burgoyne rejoined his working-party. Fernando, the half-caste who had succeeded Black Strogoff as overseer-in-chief to the prisoners, nodded and made some remark. The words being Spanish, Alwyn failed to understand them, but evidently they were of a complimentary nature.
Before the working-party arrived upon the scene of operations, one of the men who had done a good deal of voyaging on the South American coast explained that Señor Fernando was delighted that Perez —Burgoyne's late opponent—had been vanquished. There was no love lost between Fernando and the late leading gun-layer of theMalfilio.
The work of unloading theDonibristle'scargo had been completed, but most of her stores were taken on board theKittiwake. It was obviously the intention of the pirates to keep the latter vessel in a seaworthy condition, since she had not been stripped as in the case of the other prizes. In addition, a wireless operator, a German with a knowledge of four or five languages, was constantly on duty on board theKittiwake. He merely "caught" and reported radios from vessels within range of the apparatus, making no attempt to transmit, lest the source of origin might be located.
Instead of being ordered to man the crane, Burgoyne's party were marched through the tunnel down to the beach. Here they "stood easy", while a number of theMalfilio'screw launched and loaded a boat, placing a number of explosive charges into the stern-sheets. The pirates then pushed off and made for theDonibristle.
Presently the reason for the unusual "stand easy" became apparent. Pablo Henriques, being unable to give intelligible orders in English, had reluctantly been compelled to bring Black Strogoff upon the scene.
For the next three hours the captives were kept hard at it, laying out anchors in the centre of the deep channel, until a continuous line of warping buoys was laid from theDonibristle'sberth to the entrance to the enclosed harbour. It was heavy and exacting work handling those anchors, weighing anything between five and nine hundredweight. A hitch in the operations, or the slightest lubberly work, might easily result in the capsizing of one of the boats, and more than likely the loss of several of her crew.
This task completed, the men expected a respite. They got none. Instead, Black Strogoff ordered them to take other anchors and place them on either side of the narrow channel turning southward between the island and the long narrow mass of rock that protected the entrance to the harbour.
Fortunately the water inside the lagoon was as smooth as a mill-pond, and by "knocking-off time" six pairs of anchors were in position, "backed" by pickets and crowbars. Each pair of anchors was connected by cables, buoyed in the centre of the span.
Still "in the dark" as to the reason for this strenuous labour, Burgoyne returned with his party to the compound. Three of the men walked back with severe physical discomfort, apparently suffering from what is popularly known as a stiff knee. Within five minutes after they were dismissed they were all right again—and Burgoyne had added three useful crow-bars to the steadily accumulating stock.
Literally speaking, Burgoyne had returned empty-handed. Metaphorically he had not; for, strapped to the small of his back was a flat pulley of the "snatch-block" type, with a sheave capable of taking a three-inch rope.
All this was attended by great risk to the parties concerned. Although the systematic search to which the prisoners were at first subjected had been discontinued, the pirate guards occasionally went to the length of ordering some of the captives aside; but fortunately the greatly desired articles were smuggled into the compound without detection.
During the day Captain Blair had not been idle. Although "fit for duty" he had remained in the compound with the idea of obtaining a greatly-needed water-barrel.
Directly the working-parties had cleared off, the Old Man, armed with an axe that had been issued to the "galley", made his way to the spring that supplied the prisoners with fresh water. There was not a large supply, although the flow was fairly constant, and in order to ensure that a sufficient quantity should always be on hand, a large cask with the head knocked off had been sunk in the sand to catch the trickle of water from the spring.
Cautiously, so as not permanently to injure the cask, Captain Blair removed three of the hoops and "started" some of the closely-fitting staves. Then, wedging the openings with pebbles, he brought the "chine" back into position and replaced the chine-hoop. When the sand was replaced around the barrel, it appeared to be intact though utterly leaky.
His next step was to go to the wicket-gate and report the lack of fresh water to Señor Fernando.
The latter inspected the faulty cask, and by a smattering of English, aided by signs, told the skipper to get another cask from the cooperage.
Delighted with the way in which his little "stunt" was panning out, Captain Blair ordered the steward and Twill to accompany him. Escorted by Fernando the three men passed through the wicket-gate without difficulty, and proceeded to the store where spare casks and barricoes were kept.
The door of the cooperage was open, as was the case with most buildings containing articles of bulk and of no great value, although everything was carefully locked after working hours. Fernando was smoking the inevitable cigarette, and, since Ramon Porfirio's instructions against smoking in wooden buildings were very exact, he remained outside.
It did not take the Old Man long to choose a suitable cask. Into it he placed two barricoes, each capable of holding twelve gallons of water, and jammed them tightly against the bottom of the cask. The head of the latter was then deftly replaced and Captain Blair and his two assistants rolled their prize into the open.
With perspiration oozing from every pore, Barnes and Twill propelled the cask to the gate of the compound. Here Fernando left them, and the guard, taking it for granted that no search was necessary, since the prisoners were escorted, made no attempt to examine the seemingly empty barrel.
Under the lee of the cook-house the skipper removed the barricoes and carried them into his quarters. An hour later the prisoner's water-supply was again normal.
But the Old Man's triumph was short-lived. The unexpected and dramatic appearance of the Chinese store-house man, Li Whong, accompanied by a couple of armed pirates, completely took the wind out of his sails.
In pidgin English Li forcibly demanded the return of the barricoes. Vainly Captain Blair tried to explain that he had taken the water-barrels with the idea of saving numerous journeys to the spring.
The Old Man had to surrender his hard won trophies, and received an admonitory kick from the Chink into the bargain. No wonder, then, he was "fed up to the back teeth" when Burgoyne returned.
"Rough luck, sir," sympathized Alwyn. "Wonder how that Chink got wind of it?"
"Dashed if I know," replied Captain Blair. "It only shows we'll have to be most careful. Do you think it safe to carry out your investigations to-night?"
"I think so, sir," said Burgoyne. "For one thing, there's no moon and the tide's favourable."
"The tide!" exclaimed the Old Man. "What's the tide got to do with it? There's always a beach above high-water mark down there."
"Quite so, sir," agreed the Third Officer. "But I want to explore the whole extent of the bay to see if there's a practicable means of ascent on the other side of the fence. As the tide's falling, I can keep below high-water mark, and the flood tide will wipe out my footprints."
"That didn't occur to me," admitted Captain Blair. "Well, good luck, and may you fare better than I did."
At ten o'clock, having snatched two hours of sound sleep, Burgoyne was awakened by Phil Branscombe and Withers.
"What's it like outside?" was Alwyn's first question.
"Quiet," replied Phil. "What little wind there is is off shore for us, an' there's just about enough starlight. I've got the pickets and the block, Withers has the rope, and Minalto and Twill are outside."
Although, with one exception, every officer, passenger and man of theDonibristleknew of what was about to take place, and offers of assistance had simply poured in, Burgoyne had been compelled to limit the exploring-party to five. It was the absolute maximum and minimum, since two were required to descend the cliff, and three to man the rope by which the others were to be lowered and hauled up again.
The only one not in the secret was the Canuk, Miles. One night recently he had not been in the compound, and, putting two and two together, Captain Blair had concluded that the fellow was in touch with one section of the pirate crew. On that occasion the prisoners had been numbered off both in leaving and returning to the compound, and although one was missing, the fact did not appear to trouble the custodians of the gate. When Captain Blair taxed the delinquent, and demanded an explanation, Miles pitched in a plausible yarn to the effect that he had been working down below on board theDonibristle, and had failed to hear the signal for the working-parties to go ashore. Then, afraid of being found on board by the pirates, he had lain low till the following day.
The Old Man accepted the statement without comment, but he fully expected that any day the "drummer" would openly join the pirates.
To prevent him from "walking in his sleep" and stumbling across the men working on the edge of the cliff, Miles was now closely watched by three of theDonibristle'screw, with instructions from the Old Man that if the fellow attempted to leave his hut before daybreak he was to be forcibly detained.
"I can't do more simply on suspicion," the skipper confided to Burgoyne. "If I were sure that the miserable blighter was playing a dirty trick, over the cliff he'd go one dark night, or my name's not Roger Blair."
In single file and with the utmost caution the five adventurers made their way to the cliff immediately above the caves that Burgoyne had noticed during the fishing expedition. From the huts where the pirates lived when ashore came the sounds of boisterous revelry. Not a light was visible on the island, but the silhouette of the look-out hill stood out sharply against the starry sky. There were alert men stationed on that lofty perch, but whether they could discern the five figures working silently on the edge of the cliff was extremely doubtful, since the latter did not cut the sky-line. Nor could the pirates on the hill command the expanse of beach below the cliff.
Muffling the head of one of the crow-bars with a piece of wet canvas Jasper Minalto drove the iron rod deeply into the ground. The operation was anxiously watched by the rest, fearful lest even the dull thuds of the wood that served as a maul would betray their presence.
"All right, so far," declared Alwyn. "Carry on, Minalto."
A second crow-bar was driven home at about a foot from the first and parallel with the edge of the cliff. Between these and about six inches from the ground the third bar was lashed horizontally. Under the fork thus formed a stout beam was thrust, until its end projected three feet into space, with fifteen feet left resting on the turf. The beam had been removed under cover of darkness from one of the tumble-down huts, and must needs be replaced before dawn.
To the outward end of the projecting piece of timber the snatch-block had been securely strapped. Then the end of the coil of rope was pressed over the sheave, a "bowline on the bight" having been made to accommodate the descending man.
"All ready, I think," said Burgoyne quietly. "Stand by, and when I'm ready, lower away handsomely."
With four men holding on to the rope the Third Officer slipped into the bowline. The rope ran slowly through the well-oiled block, and Alwyn vanished from sight.
It was an eerie sensation dangling at the end of a rope over a cliff more than two hundred feet high. The darkness destroyed the idea of distance, but the descent was none the less hazardous on that account. Although every care had been taken in the surreptitious making of the rope, and every precaution taken to test it, there might be a weak spot that had escaped detection.
Almost from the first of the descent the rope began to turn until he was spinning giddily; then, as the length of rope increased, a swaying motion was additionally imparted, until several times Alwyn bumped heavily against the face of the cliff. He was thus able to check the rotary motion at the expense of sundry and various bruises.
"By Jove," he soliloquized, in the midst of this human punch-ball performance, "it'll be rough on Young Bill if we ever have to lower her down. It would scare her stiff right away."
The actual descent took four minutes. To Burgoyne it seemed much longer, and it was with considerable relief that he felt his feet touch the soft sand, and was able to extricate his cramped and bruised frame from the embraces of the bowline.
There was no need to shout to the others to "'vast paying out!" The release of the tension on the rope told them that the descent was accomplished. Then, like a phantom, the bowline vanished as the helpers hauled the rope to the top of the cliff. Within five minutes Jasper Minalto joined Burgoyne on the beach. Since there was the possibility of the rope's shortening with the release of his weight, and contracting by the heavy dew, he took the precaution of bending in a length of light line and weighting it with a lump of coral.
Burgoyne was not likely to fail through lack of precaution or by neglecting to take proper steps to facilitate his return.
The cave exceeded the Third Officer's expectations. It was for the most part dry, the floor being above high-water mark, and the undisturbed sand at its mouth pointed to the fact that a long time had elapsed since human feet had trodden it. Darkness prevented a minute examination, and it was only by a sense of touch that the two men were able to make their investigations.
About eighty feet in length, and with a gradually shelving floor, the cave was less than five feet in height at its entrance, but soon increased until Minalto was unable to touch the roof even with his enormous reach. In width it averaged about twelve feet when half a dozen paces inside its mouth.
There was water, too. Eagerly Burgoyne groped for and found the steady trickle. Holding his hands cup-fashion he filled his palms with water and held the liquid to his lips.
"Fresh!" he exclaimed to his companion. "We're in luck this time."
"But we've nothin' in the barrel line for tu put et in," added Jasper.
"Not even a petrol tin," added Alwyn. "Ever drunk water out of a petrol tin, Minalto?"
The Scilly Islander shook his head.
"Leave ut tu you, sir," he replied. "I've a-drunk water wi' three inches o' paraffin on top of ut on the West Coast—Accra way. That wur enough for I."
Gently jerking the rope, as a signal to Branscombe for the stock of emergency rations to be sent down, Burgoyne gave his companion instructions to bury the stuff in the cave. Leaving Minalto to carry on, the Third Officer walked down to the water's edge, then, turning abruptly to the left, followed the line of wet sand left by the receding tide.
At every possible spot where the cliff might be scalable he approached the base of the rocks, always without the desired result. Carefully obliterating his footprints on the dry sand, he continued his way until farther progress was barred by the abrupt ending of the beach at a point beyond which the cliff rose sheer from the lagoon.
The secret base was an unscalable plateau with only one approach—except by means of a rope—and that was the carefully-guarded tunnel, where more than likely (although Burgoyne was not certain on that point) the double portcullis was lowered every night.
Disappointed but by no means disheartened Burgoyne returned to the cave, where Jasper had completed his task and was awaiting him. To him Alwyn related the results of his investigations.
"Lawks!" exclaimed Minalto. "You can swim, can't you, sir? What's wrong with the reef? Can't us swim off to 'en and walk round to t' harbour? I'd do it now, on my head like, if you're in no particular hurry."
"Sharks?" queried Alwyn.
"Sharks!" repeated Jasper. "Ain't seen none since I've bin on the island, an' many's the time I've watched the water an' within' I could have a swim. What d'ye say, sir. Might I go?"
Burgoyne was fired by the man's enthusiasm. It was now midnight. Allowing three hours to cover a distance of six or seven miles, Minalto ought with luck to be back well before four. This would give the party an hour and a half before dawn in which to "pack up", replace gear, remove all traces of the night's work, and regain their quarters.
"All right," agreed the Third Officer. "I'll come with you as far as the end of the bay. Wish I could do the whole thing, only the others would be scared stiff and think we'd done ourselves in. When I return I'll get myself hauled up and wait on the top of the cliff. You know the signal? Right, and don't forget to wipe out your footprints. The tide will be at quarter flood on your return."
With many other cautions and suggestions, Burgoyne accompanied the stout-hearted seaman to a spot where the reef approached to within three hundred yards of the shore.
Taking off his shoes, and slinging them round his neck, Minalto waded waist-deep into the water and struck out for the line of milk-white foam that marked the reef. Burgoyne remained at the edge of the lagoon until the phosphorescent swirl that marked the swimmer's progress was merged into the darkness. He had no indication that Minalto had reached the reef, for his white-clad form would be indistinguishable against the ever-breaking wall of foam.
Retracing his way to the cave Burgoyne slipped into the bowline and tugged three times at the rope. The signal was promptly answered, and the swaying, roundabout ascent commenced.
"Well?" inquired Branscombe anxiously, when Alwyn landed safely on the top of the cliff.
"All serene," replied the Third Officer, a little breathlessly. "We'll have to stand by for a few hours. Minalto has gone on a voyage of exploration. That chap gave me a thundering good idea. I was getting a bit tied up in knots when I found there was no way up from the beach, so he suggested walking along the reef—and he's gone and done it," he added vernacularly.
Dispatching Twill to inform Captain Blair of the alteration of plans, so that the Old Man would not be unduly anxious about their failure to return at the suggested time, the three officers prepared to make the best of their long vigil. They took fifteen minutes' shifts to tend the rope, so that should Minalto return before they expected there would be no delay in receiving his signal and hauling him up.
"Can you get hold of another length of signal halyard, Phil?" asked Alwyn. "Another three hundred feet of it."
"I dare say," replied Branscombe. "I'll have a jolly good shot at getting it, anyway. What's the scheme?"
Burgoyne rubbed his aching shoulders.
"If you'd been barged into the cliff umpteen times, old son, you'd know," he declared grimly. "We want a guide-line, stretched taut and about eighteen inches inside the rope. That'll prevent anyone being bumped, and also spare them the luxury of an impromptu merry-go-round. We'll have to lower Young Bill, and we may as well make things as comfortable as possible for her."
"Quite so," agreed Phil. "I'll get some line tomorrow, even if it makes my figure look like that of a portly alderman. It wouldn't be a bad idea either to get hold of some spare canvas. You'll want some sort of awning or tent for the boat, and it will come in handy. For one thing, we can wrap Miss Vivian up in it when we lower her."
"What for?" asked Withers.
"To protect her in case any loose stones fall from the cliff," explained Branscombe. "'Sides, if she's covered up she won't be quite so frightened when she's being lowered. At least, I shouldn't think so."
For some minutes silence reigned, save for the ever-present dull rumble of the surf. Then Withers apparently without any reason, began chuckling to himself.
"What is it?" asked Phil.
"What's the joke," added Alwyn. "Out with it."
"Nothing much," replied Withers. "Only a reminiscence. This cliff recalled it."
He paused, his eyes fixed seaward.
"Let's have it, old son," prompted Branscombe.
"I thought I saw a vessel's masthead light out there," declared the Second Engineer. "Must have been mistaken.... The yarn? Oh, it was merely an incident. It was in '14, just after war broke out. I was on a collier awaiting orders at Whitby. Everyone was on thorns over the spy scare. Well, one night, there was a report that lights were flashing on the cliff, and a crowd of fellows went off to investigate. Having nothing better to do that evening, I went too. Sure enough there were lights about every half minute. About two miles from Whitby we ran full tilt into a couple of men striking matches, so they were promptly collared."
The narrator paused and looked seaward again.
"What happened?" asked Burgoyne.
"Nothing—they were released," replied Withers.
"I can't see anything funny in that," remarked Phil.
"Well, it was funny—and pathetic, too," explained Withers. "They were deaf mutes. One lived in a small cottage near Kettleness, and the other's home was in York. They had missed the last train for Kettleness and were walking along the cliff path to Whitby. Their only means of communicating with each other was by lip-reading, and since it was dark they stopped and struck matches whenever they wanted to converse. They had used up three boxes of matches by the time we came up. Poor blighters! As likely as not they didn't know there was a war on; if they did it was obvious they hadn't heard about the regulations concerning coastwise lights. But, by Jove! surely those are vessel's steaming lights?"
"It is, by smoke!" exclaimed Burgoyne. "A steamer going south. I can just distinguish her port light."
"TheMalfilioperhaps?" suggested Branscombe.
"Not she," declared Withers. "That steam pipe of hers will take at least two days more before it's patched up."
"I can see her green, now," announced Alwyn "She's altering course. If she holds on she'll pile herself upon the reef."
Helpless to warn the on-coming vessel—for even had the three officers been provided with means of signalling they would have incurred heavy penalties by the pirates and the wrecking of all the formers' carefully laid plans—the watchers on the cliff awaited events.
The vessel was now steaming dead slow—at least she took an unconscionable time in approaching. That was in her favour. It might give the look-outs the opportunity to hear the roar of the surf; while, even if she did strike, and were held by the coral reef, she would not be likely to sustain serious damage.
Suddenly a dazzling glare leapt from the vessel and the giant beam of a searchlight swept the island. From where the three officers lay prone on the grass they could see the rim of the cliff outlined in silver. The crest of the Observation Hill was bathed in the electric gleams, but elsewhere, owing to the depression towards the centre of the plateau, the island was in darkness. So carefully chosen was the site of the various buildings that nowhere from seaward could they be visible.
"A warship!" declared Burgoyne. "I say, this complicates matters. Let's get back to the huts, or we'll be missed. We can return before dawn."
Cautiously the three officers made their way down the slight slope, where the darkness, by contrast with the slowly traversing beam of light overhead, was intense.
When within fifty yards of the nearest of the prisoners' huts Burgoyne gripped his companions' arms.
"Lie down!" he whispered.
Both officers obeyed promptly. Alwyn, on hands and knees, went on. Presently he rejoined them.
"It's too late," he said in a low voice. "There is an armed pirate outside every hut."
Burgoyne and his companions were on the horns of a dilemma. If they persisted in their attempt to regain their quarters they would almost certainly be detected, while even if they succeeded they would be unable to return to the cliff. Minalto would have to be left to take his chance, and the gaunt evidence of the night's work would be laid bare with the dawn. If they returned to the cliff there was the possibility that they would have to hide all next day, and be faced with the awkward problem of explaining their absence satisfactorily.
They chose the latter course, and upon returning to the scene of the lowering operations they flung themselves flat upon the turf, lest their silhouettes would betray them to the pirates stationed about the camp and concealed in the bushes on the summit of Observation Hill.
There they lay, hardly daring to stir a limb and maintaining absolute silence for the best part of an hour. Then the searchlight, which had been playing continuously upon the island, was suddenly masked. Twenty minutes later Burgoyne cautiously raised his head and looked seaward. A flickering white light informed him that the vessel was steaming rapidly away.
"Hang on here," he whispered to his companions "I'm going to have a look round."
He was back in a quarter of an hour, with the report that he had seen the pirate guard form up and march through the gate of the compound.
"That leaves us with a tolerably free hand," he added. "I was afraid they'd muster all hands and call the roll. No sign of Minalto yet, I suppose?"
"None," replied Withers, who had been holding on to the rope. "He's a bit behind time. I hope nothing's gone wrong."
"So do I," agreed Alwyn fervently.
Slowly the minutes passed. Momentarily doubts grew in the minds of the three watchers. Even Alwyn's faith in Minalto's powers was waning.
"I'll take on now," he remarked, relieving the Second Engineer at the rope.
He had barely resumed his "trick" when the manila rope was almost jerked out of his hand. From the unseen depths below came three decided tugs.
"He's back, lads," whispered Burgoyne joyously. "All together. Man the rope—walk back."
It was no easy task to hoist the ponderous seaman, but at length Jasper Minalto's head and shoulders appeared above the edge of the cliff. With no apparent effort he swung himself up by the projecting beam and gained the summit. Slipping out of the bowline, he shook himself like a Newfoundland dog, for water was dripping from his saturated clothes.
"I've been there sartain sure," he announced coolly, "an' back agen, sir. If you'm your doubts, sir, there's my 'nitials scratched on ter boat's back-board, fair an' legible-like s'long as you looks carefully."
Burgoyne brought his hand down upon the seaman's shoulder.
"Splendid!" he exclaimed. "You must spin your yarn later, after we've packed up and stowed away the gear. There's not much time. But, in any case, Minalto, you've won your place in the boat."
"Thank'ee, sir," replied Jasper gratefully.
Grey dawn was showing over the eastern height of the island when the four men returned to their huts. Burgoyne reported "all well" to Captain Blair, who, declining to hear details, told the Third Officer to turn in.
"You can't work watch and watch for two successive days unless you have a 'caulk'," he added. "It will be another hour and a quarter before the hands are turned out. Make the best of it."
But the Old Man was wrong in his estimate. No attempt was made to summon the crews of the three captured ships to their forced labour. They were piped to breakfast and then allowed to "stand easy", while armed pirates patrolled the inner circle of huts in addition to augmenting the guards in the two block-houses.
"Something's in the wind," declared Captain Blair. "The vessel that used her searchlight last night is evidently beating up for the island."
Soon there was no doubt on the point. From the compound the heights commanding the harbour and eastern approach to the island were plainly visible. Bodies of pirates were being rushed up to the concealed gun emplacements, which they could reach without being seen from seaward. Others were hurrying towards the tunnel, with the idea of manning the machine-guns that swept the entrance to the harbour and the only landing-place.
"The ball's about to commence," said Branscombe. "Wonder who'll open fire first?"
The prisoners listened in breathless suspense for the crash of the opening contest between the warship—or whatever she might be—and the quick-firers comprising the principal defences of the island. At intervals a powerful syren boomed out its raucous wail, demanding in Morse Code whether there were any people on the island.
Presently the sound came from the south'ard and then the west'ard, but no reply was sent from the pirates lying low on the apparently uninhabited island.
An hour later the captives caught sight of the trucks and aerials of a two-masted vessel proceeding on an easterly course at a distance of about two miles north of the island. Then the two mastheads vanished behind the rising ground; but from the fact that the batteries were still manned theDonibristle'speople drew what proved to be a correct conclusion that the vessel had once more taken up a position off the eastern face of the secret base.
At noon, the prisoners still standing easy, Captain Blair called a meeting of officers to receive the reports of the investigating party.
It was Jasper Minalto's recital which created the greatest interest. After parting with Mr. Burgoyne on the shore, he said he swam to the reef, landing without difficulty on a flat expanse of coral. Although the reef averaged twenty yards in width and the state of the tide was almost low-water, the breakers swept far across the coral barrier before they expended their strength. Had it been anything near approaching high-water progress along the reef would have been extremely dangerous, if not impracticable.
But in present circumstances Minalto found the reef "fair going". There were several deep and narrow gulleys to be crossed, while there was a strong tidal current setting out of the only possible boat channel—not taking into consideration the ship passage—which was on the extreme south-western part of the reef.
It required a strenuous effort to swim across the narrow gap, but Minalto expressed an opinion that at dead low-water, or thereabouts, there would be little or no current.
Off the south-eastern end of the island he found himself quite a mile from shore, but on the eastern side the reef converged towards the island. Nevertheless he had to swim a quarter of a mile, aided by the set of the current, to gain the long, narrow and lofty ledge of rock that screened the harbour in which theMalfilioand her prizes were lying.
Here the buoys laid down the previous day by theDonibristle'screw helped him considerably, since he was able to hang on to them and rest as he made his way up the narrow channel.
Swimming close to the rocks on the island side of the channel, he arrived at the entrance to the harbour, and was glad to find his feet touch bottom just within the southern spur of rock that practically enclosed the anchorage.
From that point he waded until he reached the sandy beach. Everything was quiet. Keeping close to the cliff he passed the boatsheds and almost tripped over the chain securing the hauled-up boats.
Arriving at his goal, Minalto, as he told Burgoyne, scratched his initials upon the lifeboat's back-board. Then, having established his claim, he began to retrace his course.
At that moment he was considerably taken aback by seeing a light flash across the sky. His first thought was that the pirates had discovered him, but upon second consideration he rightly concluded that the flash came from a searchlight in the offing.
Before he had gone very far a faint light blinked from a point half-way up the cliff and immediately above (so he judged) the entrance to the tunnel. It was promptly answered by a light from theMalfilioand in a few minutes the crew of the pirate cruiser were standing to their guns. From where Minalto stood he could see all the starboard guns trained upon the entrance to the harbour, and rather apprehensively he wondered what would happen to him if they opened fire when he was swimming through that narrow gap.
He remained for some minutes crouching against the cliff, until it occurred to him that time and tide wait for no man, and that if he were to return by the way he came he would have to hurry his movements.
Minalto took the water as noiselessly as an otter. Swimming dog-stroke in order to minimize the phosphorescent swirl of his wake, he kept close to the cliffs—so close, in fact, that once his right knee came into sharp contact with a rock.
Then came the crucial point of his return journey—the passage of the harbour mouth. Dozens of pairs of eyes must, he knew, be peering in that direction, but he reckoned on the possibility that while they were looking for a large object, namely an armed boat from the warship off the island, they would fail to detect a small one—the head of the swimmer.
Unobserved he cleared the projecting headland, and working from buoy to buoy along the south approach channel until he came in view of the reef, gained a "kicking-off" position for the longest and most strenuous of his many swims that night.
Although the sea was warm he was beginning to feel that "water-logged" sensation that results from keeping in too long. Alternately swimming on his breast and back he continued doggedly, knowing that if he rested he would be swept out of his course by the steady indraught into the lagoon, for by this time the young flood was making.
At length he gained the reef, rubbed his cramped limbs, and set off briskly to the point nearest that part of the island whence he had set out, and an hour and a half later he was being hauled up the cliff.
Jasper Minalto had told his story, without any embellishments, in the broad, burring dialect of the West Country. But behind that simple narrative his listeners detected a ring of indomitability that had brought the man safely through the grave perils by land and sea.
"That coral is most heavy on shoe leather," he remarked. "Fair cut to pieces 'un is. But nex' time 'twill be only one way, like; seein' as how us be a-comin' back wi' the boat."
"You think we'll be able to launch the lifeboat and get her round without being spotted?" asked Captain Blair.
"We'd best wait till theMalfilio'sa-put to sea, sir," replied Minalto. "There wur nobody on the beach as far as I could see, an' t' other craft wur quiet enow."
"It was the vessel in the offing that put the crew of theMalfilioon the qui vive, I fancy," observed Burgoyne. "We'll have to take the ship into consideration, I'm afraid, sir. That is, if we are to take advantage of these moonless nights."
"We'll have to," decided the Old Man. "We've five clear days before the new moon grows sufficiently to cause trouble. Failing that it will mean a fortnight's delay—and then it may be too late. And then there's the question of fresh water," he added, still smarting from the effect of his splendid failure. "That is the question."
"What's wrang wi' a bit o' canvas?" inquired Angus. "A pair o' canvas tanks fitted 'tween thwarts'll just dae fine."
"A good idea, Mr. Angus," said the skipper. "We'll have to knock up a couple of canvas tanks. There's the question of evaporation and leakage by the boat heeling to be taken into account."
"And, perhaps, the water might be tainted by the canvas," added Alwyn.
"Havers, mon!" ejaculated the First Engineer scornfully. "May ye never hae wurrse. Mony a day I've drunk bad water—an' bad whusky forbye, an' I'll live to dae it again," he added with an air of finality. "We'll get on with it," decided Captain Blair. "After all, beggars can't be choosers. Any more points to raise? None. Very well, then; unless anything unforeseen takes place Mr. Burgoyne and Minalto will bring the boat round to the west beach at——?"
"Three a.m. on Thursday," said Alwyn.
For the remainder of the day the captives' "stand easy" continued. As far as the men taking part in the previous night's work were concerned nothing could have been more welcome. It enabled them to make up arrears from loss of sleep and strenuous activity. Nevertheless the additional length of line for the guide-rope was forthcoming, the canvas water-tanks were sewn up and tested, and more provisions lowered and hidden in the cave.
There remained three clear days before the die was cast and the momentous step taken—unless events over which the late officers and crew of theDonibristlehad no control should necessitate a hurried change of plans.
Just before sunset the guns' crews were withdrawn from the emplacements, and the guards stationed outside the huts were marched out of the compound, so apparently Señor Ramon Porfirio was satisfied that the vessel that had caused him great uneasiness had really taken her departure.