CHAPTER XIV
The Vigil on the Cliffs
At ten o'clock, having snatched two hours of sound sleep, Burgoynewas 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 forus, an' there's just about enough starlight. I've got the pickets andthe block, Withers has the rope, and Minalto and Twill are outside."
Although, with one exception, every officer, passenger and man of the_Donibristle_ knew of what was about to take place, and offers ofassistance had simply poured in, Burgoyne had been compelled to limitthe exploring-party to five. It was the absolute maximum and minimum,since two were required to descend the cliff, and three to man therope by which the others were to be lowered and hauled up again.
The only one not in the secret was the Canuk, Miles. One nightrecently he had not been in the compound, and, putting two and twotogether, Captain Blair had concluded that the fellow was in touchwith one section of the pirate crew. On that occasion the prisonershad been numbered off both in leaving and returning to the compound,and although one was missing, the fact did not appear to trouble thecustodians of the gate. When Captain Blair taxed the delinquent, anddemanded an explanation, Miles pitched in a plausible yarn to theeffect that he had been working down below on board the_Donibristle_, and had failed to hear the signal for theworking-parties to go ashore. Then, afraid of being found on board bythe pirates, he had lain low till the following day.
The Old Man accepted the statement without comment, but he fullyexpected that any day the "drummer" would openly join the pirates.
To prevent him from "walking in his sleep" and stumbling across themen working on the edge of the cliff, Miles was now closely watchedby three of the _Donibristle's_ crew, with instructions from the OldMan that if the fellow attempted to leave his hut before daybreak hewas to be forcibly detained.
"I can't do more simply on suspicion," the skipper confided toBurgoyne. "If I were sure that the miserable blighter was playing adirty trick, over the cliff he'd go one dark night, or my name's notRoger Blair."
In single file and with the utmost caution the five adventurers madetheir way to the cliff immediately above the caves that Burgoyne hadnoticed during the fishing expedition. From the huts where thepirates lived when ashore came the sounds of boisterous revelry. Nota light was visible on the island, but the silhouette of the look-outhill stood out sharply against the starry sky. There were alert menstationed on that lofty perch, but whether they could discern thefive figures working silently on the edge of the cliff was extremelydoubtful, since the latter did not cut the sky-line. Nor could thepirates 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 canvasJasper Minalto drove the iron rod deeply into the ground. Theoperation was anxiously watched by the rest, fearful lest even thedull thuds of the wood that served as a maul would betray theirpresence.
"All right, so far," declared Alwyn. "Carry on, Minalto."
A second crow-bar was driven home at about a foot from the first andparallel with the edge of the cliff. Between these and about sixinches from the ground the third bar was lashed horizontally. Underthe fork thus formed a stout beam was thrust, until its end projectedthree feet into space, with fifteen feet left resting on the turf.The beam had been removed under cover of darkness from one of thetumble-down huts, and must needs be replaced before dawn.
To the outward end of the projecting piece of timber the snatch-blockhad been securely strapped. Then the end of the coil of rope waspressed over the sheave, a "bowline on the bight" having been made toaccommodate the descending man.
"All ready, I think," said Burgoyne quietly. "Stand by, and when I'mready, lower away handsomely."
With four men holding on to the rope the Third Officer slipped intothe bowline. The rope ran slowly through the well-oiled block, andAlwyn vanished from sight.
It was an eerie sensation dangling at the end of a rope over a cliffmore than two hundred feet high. The darkness destroyed the idea ofdistance, but the descent was none the less hazardous on thataccount. Although every care had been taken in the surreptitiousmaking of the rope, and every precaution taken to test it, theremight be a weak spot that had escaped detection.
Almost from the first of the descent the rope began to turn until hewas spinning giddily; then, as the length of rope increased, aswaying motion was additionally imparted, until several times Alwynbumped heavily against the face of the cliff. He was thus able tocheck the rotary motion at the expense of sundry and various bruises.
"By Jove," he soliloquized, in the midst of this human punch-ballperformance, "it'll be rough on Young Bill if we ever have to lowerher down. It would scare her stiff right away."
The actual descent took four minutes. To Burgoyne it seemed muchlonger, and it was with considerable relief that he felt his feettouch the soft sand, and was able to extricate his cramped andbruised frame from the embraces of the bowline.
There was no need to shout to the others to "'vast paying out!" Therelease of the tension on the rope told them that the descent wasaccomplished. Then, like a phantom, the bowline vanished as thehelpers hauled the rope to the top of the cliff. Within five minutesJasper Minalto joined Burgoyne on the beach. Since there was thepossibility of the rope's shortening with the release of his weight,and contracting by the heavy dew, he took the precaution of bendingin a length of light line and weighting it with a lump of coral.
Burgoyne was not likely to fail through lack of precaution or byneglecting to take proper steps to facilitate his return.
The cave exceeded the Third Officer's expectations. It was for themost part dry, the floor being above high-water mark, and theundisturbed sand at its mouth pointed to the fact that a long timehad elapsed since human feet had trodden it. Darkness prevented aminute examination, and it was only by a sense of touch that the twomen were able to make their investigations.
About eighty feet in length, and with a gradually shelving floor, thecave was less than five feet in height at its entrance, but soonincreased until Minalto was unable to touch the roof even with hisenormous reach. In width it averaged about twelve feet when half adozen paces inside its mouth.
There was water, too. Eagerly Burgoyne groped for and found thesteady trickle. Holding his hands cup-fashion he filled his palmswith 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," addedJasper.
"Not even a petrol tin," added Alwyn. "Ever drunk water out of apetrol tin, Minalto?"
The Scilly Islander shook his head.
"Leave ut tu you, sir," he replied. "I've a-drunk water wi' threeinches o' paraffin on top of ut on the West Coast--Accra way. Thatwur enough for I."
Gently jerking the rope, as a signal to Branscombe for the stock ofemergency rations to be sent down, Burgoyne gave his companioninstructions to bury the stuff in the cave. Leaving Minalto to carryon, the Third Officer walked down to the water's edge, then, turningabruptly to the left, followed the line of wet sand left by thereceding tide.
At every possible spot where the cliff might be scalable heapproached the base of the rocks, always without the desired result.Carefully obliterating his footprints on the dry sand, he continuedhis way until farther progress was barred by the abrupt ending of thebeach at a point beyond which the cliff rose sheer from the lagoon.
The secret base was an unscalable plateau with only oneapproach--except by means of a rope--and that was thecarefully-guarded tunnel, where more than likely (although Burgoynewas not certain on that point) the double portcullis was loweredevery night.
Disappointed but by no means disheartened Burgoyne returned to thecave, where Jasper had completed his task and was awaiting him. Tohim Alwyn related the results of his investigations.
"Lawks!" exclaimed Minalto. "Y
ou can swim, can't you, sir? What'swrong 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 particularhurry."
"Sharks?" queried Alwyn.
"Sharks!" repeated Jasper. "Ain't seen none since I've bin on theisland, an' many's the time I've watched the water an' within' Icould 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 givethe 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 theirquarters.
"All right," agreed the Third Officer. "I'll come with you as far asthe end of the bay. Wish I could do the whole thing, only the otherswould be scared stiff and think we'd done ourselves in. When I returnI'll get myself hauled up and wait on the top of the cliff. You knowthe signal? Right, and don't forget to wipe out your footprints. Thetide will be at quarter flood on your return."
With many other cautions and suggestions, Burgoyne accompanied thestout-hearted seaman to a spot where the reef approached to withinthree hundred yards of the shore.
Taking off his shoes, and slinging them round his neck, Minalto wadedwaist-deep into the water and struck out for the line of milk-whitefoam that marked the reef. Burgoyne remained at the edge of thelagoon until the phosphorescent swirl that marked the swimmer'sprogress was merged into the darkness. He had no indication thatMinalto had reached the reef, for his white-clad form would beindistinguishable against the ever-breaking wall of foam.
Retracing his way to the cave Burgoyne slipped into the bowline andtugged three times at the rope. The signal was promptly answered, andthe swaying, roundabout ascent commenced.
"Well?" inquired Branscombe anxiously, when Alwyn landed safely onthe 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 voyageof exploration. That chap gave me a thundering good idea. I wasgetting a bit tied up in knots when I found there was no way up fromthe beach, so he suggested walking along the reef--and he's gone anddone 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 failureto return at the suggested time, the three officers prepared to makethe best of their long vigil. They took fifteen minutes' shifts totend the rope, so that should Minalto return before they expectedthere would be no delay in receiving his signal and hauling him up.
"Can you get hold of another length of signal halyard, Phil?" askedAlwyn. "Another three hundred feet of it."
"I dare say," replied Branscombe. "I'll have a jolly good shot atgetting it, anyway. What's the scheme?"
Burgoyne rubbed his aching shoulders.
"If you'd been barged into the cliff umpteen times, old son, you'dknow," he declared grimly. "We want a guide-line, stretched taut andabout eighteen inches inside the rope. That'll prevent anyone beingbumped, and also spare them the luxury of an impromptumerry-go-round. We'll have to lower Young Bill, and we may as wellmake things as comfortable as possible for her."
"Quite so," agreed Phil. "I'll get some line tomorrow, even if itmakes my figure look like that of a portly alderman. It wouldn't be abad idea either to get hold of some spare canvas. You'll want somesort of awning or tent for the boat, and it will come in handy. Forone 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 quiteso frightened when she's being lowered. At least, I shouldn't thinkso."
For some minutes silence reigned, save for the ever-present dullrumble of the surf. Then Withers apparently without any reason, beganchuckling to himself.
"What is it?" asked Phil.
"What's the joke," added Alwyn. "Out with it."
"Nothing much," replied Withers. "Only a reminiscence. This cliffrecalled 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 theSecond Engineer. "Must have been mistaken.... The yarn? Oh, it wasmerely an incident. It was in '14, just after war broke out. I was ona collier awaiting orders at Whitby. Everyone was on thorns over thespy scare. Well, one night, there was a report that lights wereflashing on the cliff, and a crowd of fellows went off toinvestigate. Having nothing better to do that evening, I went too.Sure enough there were lights about every half minute. About twomiles from Whitby we ran full tilt into a couple of men strikingmatches, 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. "Theywere deaf mutes. One lived in a small cottage near Kettleness, andthe other's home was in York. They had missed the last train forKettleness and were walking along the cliff path to Whitby. Theironly means of communicating with each other was by lip-reading, andsince it was dark they stopped and struck matches whenever theywanted to converse. They had used up three boxes of matches by thetime we came up. Poor blighters! As likely as not they didn't knowthere was a war on; if they did it was obvious they hadn't heardabout 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 canjust distinguish her port light."
"The _Malfilio_ perhaps?" suggested Branscombe.
"Not she," declared Withers. "That steam pipe of hers will take atleast 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 threeofficers been provided with means of signalling they would haveincurred heavy penalties by the pirates and the wrecking of all theformers' carefully laid plans--the watchers on the cliff awaitedevents.
The vessel was now steaming dead slow--at least she took anunconscionable time in approaching. That was in her favour. It mightgive 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, shewould not be likely to sustain serious damage.
Suddenly a dazzling glare leapt from the vessel and the giant beam ofa searchlight swept the island. From where the three officers layprone on the grass they could see the rim of the cliff outlined insilver. The crest of the Observation Hill was bathed in the electricgleams, but elsewhere, owing to the depression towards the centre ofthe plateau, the island was in darkness. So carefully chosen was thesite of the various buildings that nowhere from seaward could they bevisible.
"A warship!" declared Burgoyne. "I say, this complicates matters.Let's get back to the huts, or we'll be missed. We can return beforedawn."
Cautiously the three officers made their way down the slight slope,where the darkness, by contrast with the slowly traversing beam oflight overhead, was intense.
When within fifty yards of the nearest of the prisoners' hutsBurgoyne 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 pirateoutside every hut."