“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.”
“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.