'Now for the sentry!' he whispered.

Foreseeing that the native prisoners, when they should be discovered and released, might hail their deliverance with shouts of joy, Trentham had arranged with Grinson that Lafoa, the interpreter, should be lowered to the ledge when he gave the signal. But he had not expected any difficulty in finding the prisoners' whereabouts. The presence of the sentry showed that they were somewhere on the ledge, and he felt some anxiety lest they were near the German, and would be disturbed as Hoole went forward to deal with him. For this reason, when Hoole was about to grope his way along the ledge, Trentham detained him by a whisper, and signalled to Grinson by means of the line. A minute later he heard a sound above as the Papuan came dangling down at the end of the rope--a sound so slight that it could not have been heard by the sentry amid the rustle of the surf. He caught Lafoa about the body, released him from the rope, and then, in the briefest sentences of which pidgin English is capable, instructed him in the part he was to play presently.

Hoole started, stealing along inch by inch under the cliff wall, taking advantage of its inequalities and of the baskets which were ranged in line against it. He had gone forward only about a dozen yards, however, when Trentham, who could just distinguish his form, saw him halt, crouching low. The sentry's pipe was still emitting its glow at regular intervals as the man puffed. It was clear that he had not been disturbed, and Trentham, wondering why Hoole had stopped, stole forward to join him, carrying the rope with which Meek had been bound.

The American was lying almost flat, peering between the bars of a wooden grating that covered a hole in the cliff.

'Listen!' he whispered, as Trentham came up behind him.

And then Trentham heard, from behind the grating, sounds of deep breathing, as of many men asleep. Nothing could be seen in the pitch blackness within; but the two men concluded that they had found the place in which the natives were confined. Worn out by long hours of fatiguing work to which they were unused, the prisoners, no doubt, were sleeping the heavy sleep of exhaustion.

Hoole was about to go forward, when he was arrested by a sound some distance ahead. He dropped flat again, and taking up handfuls of coal dust, rubbed it all over his clothes. Trentham followed his example.

They now identified the sound as footsteps; in a few moments they heard a voice, then a tapping.

'Sentry being relieved; knocking out his pipe,' Hoole whispered.

They lay watching, listening, with their hearts in their mouths. Would the Germans come to look at the man they had tied up? Or would the relieving sentry be satisfied by his comrade's report that all was well, and take up his post without investigation? If both should come along the ledge together, it was hopeless to expect that they could be silenced without one or other having time to give the alarm. They might even see the white clothes, in spite of the coating of coal dust, before they came within reach. A single shout would arouse the Germans below, and all would be over.

The footsteps drew nearer; two voices were heard. The new sentry exchanged a few words with his comrade; then the heavy boots of the latter rang on the path leading downwards to the beach. The risk was halved! A match was struck; the newcomer lit his pipe, and for a minute or two paced up and down a short stretch of the ledge. Hoole hoped that he would soon tire of this, and sit, as his comrade presumably had done, smoking placidly, dreaming perhaps of a little cottage somewhere in the Fatherland.

But presently the slow footsteps approached. The scent of tobacco smoke touched the nostrils of the waiting men. The sentry was coming to look at his prisoner. Trentham and Hoole crawled back silently a few yards, and effaced themselves as well as they could behind the baskets. The German came slowly on, humming between his closed lips. He reached the tunnel, and stood at the grating for a few moments; the watchers saw the reflection of his glowing pipe on his face as he pressed it close against the bars. Humming again, he sauntered on towards the post where Meek had been tied, walking outside the line of baskets, and pa.s.sing the hidden men within a couple of yards.

Now was the critical moment. Feeling that the whole success of the enterprise hung on the next few seconds, Hoole pulled himself together, got to his feet, and noiselessly on his stocking soles tip-toed after the German. From below came the restless murmur of the surf. Hoole's footsteps could not have been heard, yet the German, perhaps moved by that strange sense one has of being followed, was on the point of turning round, when a hard fist caught him with the force of a sledge-hammer behind his right ear, and he fell like a log. Trentham, who had followed stealthily, instantly dashed forward, and before the stunned man regained consciousness he was bound hand and foot with the rope that had tortured Meek, and a gag, torn from Hoole's coat, was firmly wedged between his teeth.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NOISELESSLY ON HIS STOCKING SOLES TIP-TOED AFTER THE GERMAN.]

Leaving him where he lay, the two men summoned Lafoa to join them, and led him to the tunnel. Groping over the grating, Hoole discovered the wooden bolt with which it was fastened, quietly removed the cover, and signed to Lafoa to go in.

There was another moment of tense anxiety. Grunts, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, the stir of movement, were heard from the depths of the tunnel. Something fell with a sharp crack--a pick which one of the men had displaced. At the mouth of the tunnel it sounded like a pistol shot, and Hoole and Trentham swung round and looked apprehensively towards the beach. All was still, there. No doubt the wash of the sea was loud enough to smother the single sharp sound at a distance.

It was evident that Lafoa had intelligently grasped his instructions, for the natives, as they filed out, though their movements were quick and urgent, made scarcely a sound. In a long string they followed Trentham to the spot where the rope dangled over the wall of the ledge.

Trentham found that his hands were trembling as he slid the rope over the shoulders of the first man. If only he could have multiplied the rope! Each ascent would take at least half a minute. How many men were there? What might not happen before they were all in safety above? One by one he looped them, saw them rise, caught the descending rope.

Hoole, who had counted them out, came up to them and whispered 'Thirty-four.' More than a quarter of an hour must elapse before the last man had ascended, and some of those at the end of the line were showing signs of restlessness, grunting, sighing, clicking with their tongues. Moment by moment Trentham expected some of them to whoop with excitement. 'Make all fella no talkee!' he whispered to Lafoa, and the man went along the line muttering fierce threats.

The thirty-fourth man had gone. Lafoa followed him, then Hoole. Not a sound had been heard from below but the murmur of the sea and the m.u.f.fled voices of the men in the sheds. With intense relief, and the feeling that fortune could hardly betray them now, Trentham looped himself and signalled to be hoisted. He was barely half way to the top when a sharp clatter above made his blood run cold. Crack followed crack, then for a second there were a number of dull thuds, and finally, a tremendous crash on the ledge below, waking echoes around the cove.

One of the natives, in climbing among the boulders, had displaced a large rock.

The doors of the sheds were burst open. Lights shone across the cove.

Men came rushing out, calling to one another, to the sentry above, to the men on the Raider. 'Faster! Faster!' Trentham cried inwardly, as he was jerked upward. He was just over the edge when a blinding light swept across the face of the cliff. The searchlight's beams fell full upon Trentham's white-clad form. Slipping out of the loop, he scrambled on hands and knees up the sloping ascent towards the boulders. Below him there was a sputtering rattle, and he felt himself splashed with earth and stones as the rain of machine-gun bullets pecked at the cliff.

Something hot stung his leg; he crawled faster; in another moment his shoulders were grasped by sinewy hands, and Grinson and Hoole between them lugged him over the brink and behind the protecting boulders.

'Thanks be for all mercies!' panted Grinson. 'And as for that clumsy lubber that kicked down the rock----'

'Shoo!' whistled Hoole, 'it's time, sure, to cut and run!'

CHAPTER XIII

A FORCED LANDING

'For goodness' sake keep them quiet!' gasped Trentham, clambering up among the boulders to the top of the slope. The native prisoners, hysterical in their joy, were laughing and shouting and smacking their thighs.

'Say, Lafoa,' said Hoole, 'tell that chief of yours to stop the hullabaloo. Black fella no talkee this time.'

Flanso gathered his men together, and reduced the hubbub somewhat.

Meanwhile Trentham had gained the top.

'We must get out of reach at once,' he said. 'The searchlight's no good to them now, nor the machine-gun; but if these fellows make such a row the Germans will track us.'

'We make for the village?' asked Hoole.

'Not directly; the Germans are sure to put men on the paths. But I fancy they won't risk a regular pursuit in the dark, and if we get away from the coast and avoid the direct route to the village, we shall at any rate not run into them. How 's Meek?'

'Just alive, sir, that's all I can say,' replied Grinson. 'What they 've been doing to him----'

'Can he walk?' Trentham interrupted.

'Says he ain't got no feeling in his legs. But what's the odds? I 'll heave him across my back. Lucky you 're lean, Ephraim, me lad!'

'Come, let's start at once. Where's Lafoa?'

He explained his plan to the interpreter, who imparted it to the young chief, and the whole party moved off silently into the forest, Grinson mounting Meek pickaback.

Trentham's inferences as to the actions of the enemy were better justified than he knew. All the Germans with the exception of Hahn had been thrown into a state of utter consternation by the discovery that Meek was not the only white man in their neighbourhood. Hahn, professing himself to be as much surprised as the rest, had discreetly held his tongue. Consequently the commander, ignorant of the number of the rescuers, had contented himself with posting parties of the crew on the paths which the fugitives must cross to regain their village, postponing organised pursuit until the morning.

It was slow going in the darkness. Several of the natives who had been longest enslaved were weak from overwork, ill-treatment, and confinement. The stronger among them, eager to press on, were restrained by fear of the dark and the necessity of helping the weaker.

Hoole noticed that Trentham was limping.

'Hurt your leg?' he asked.

'Got a bullet, I think, but it's nothing.'

'Shucks! Let me have a look at it right now. You might bleed to death.'

He knelt down and groped for the wound.

'The bullet has ploughed up a bit of your calf,' he said in a minute or two. 'Lucky it's no worse. Wait half a second while I tie it up; then I guess you can go on till we strike some water.'

They went on, struggling over rough country amid thick bush and trees.

Even the natives were at a loss in the darkness. They could not choose a definite direction, and it seemed obvious to the white men that some of them would soon collapse. Grinson was panting under his load, light though it was, but steadfastly refused to allow the others to take turns with him. At length, coming to a patch of open ground, Trentham called a halt.

'We ought to be pretty safe now,' he said, 'and had better camp here till the morning. With daylight some of the natives will be able to take their bearings.'

They lay down on the rough gra.s.s, already wet with dew.