He placed the message carefully in his pocket-book. Then, a new thought having struck him, he hurried out and sought Sergeant Ewins. The sergeant occupied one compartment of an old railway coach, which had been turned into huts for the men. Ewins was lying on his bunk when John entered, reading a Sunday paper by the light of a fort candle as thick as a man's wrist.
"I want to have a word with you, Ewins," said John, sitting on the edge of the chief gunner's bunk, which had formerly been a railway seat. "Can you tell me," he went on, "if it is possible for anyone to make a landing on the south shore, there? I mean in the bay below the look-out."
"It's possible, of course," Ewins answered, "but risky."
"You don't think it possible," inquired John, "for a submarine to lie out there in the bay and send a small canvas boat ashore?"
"You've forgotten our minefield--a submarine could not pass it, sir."
"No, I haven't forgotten that," answered John; "but suppose the Germans know where our mines are?"
"Then they'd know more than we do, sir," answered Ewins. "Nobody in the fort knows that, except the Commander, and perhaps the Colonel."
"The reason I am asking you," went on John, "is that I have discovered something and want to give you an opportunity of coming down on the shore with me."
"I suppose, Ewins, it seems fantastical and impossible to you, but I have a theory that the Germans intend to bring a boat ashore there. In my opinion, they have been there before to-night."
"Do you think that is so, sir?" he asked in a voice of deep amazement. Then his eyes brightened. "I'd like to come with you, sir, if you think there's any likelihood of that sort of thing."
"I don't only think it, I know it," said John. "It may not be to-night, because of the full moon, nor to-morrow night. But some time or other, and maybe soon, I am prepared to bet my hat that a German will land from the sea. He will land, Ewins, in the bay below us, within a quarter of a mile of where we are now sitting."
The manner in which Ewins took this information filled John with satisfaction. The old soldier was spoiling for a fight. For four years he had had nothing better to shoot at than a target, and he was longing for a chance of real action.