It was farther than it looked, but we met no more sentries. No further trace of life showed in the wooden house as we worked our way cautiously forward.
“Careful.” Drummond’s whisper came from just in front of us. “We’re close to the edge.” He was peering in front, and suddenly he turned round and gripped my arm. “Look up there towards the house. See anything? Underneath a little—just below the top of the cliff.”
I stared at the place he indicated, and sure enough there was a patch which seemed less dark than its surroundings.
“There’s a heavily screened light inside there,” he muttered. “It’s an opening in the cliff.”
And then, quite clearly audible over the lazy beat of the sea below, we heard the sound of rowlocks.
“This is where we go closer,” said Drummond. “It strikes me things are going to happen.”
We crept towards the house, and I know that I at any rate was quivering with excitement. I could just see Drummond in front well enough to conform to his every movement. He paused every now and then, but not for long, and I pictured him peering into the darkness with that uncanny sight of his. Once, I remember, he stopped for nearly five minutes, and while I lay there trying to stop the pounding of my heart I thought I heard voices below. Then he went on again, until the house seemed almost on top of us.
At last he stopped for good, and I saw him beckoning to us to come and join him. He was actually on the edge of the cliff, and when I reached his side and passed over, I very nearly gave the show away in my surprise. Not twenty feet below us a man’s head was sticking out of the face of the cliff. We could see it outlined against a dim light that came from inside, and he was paying out something hand over hand. At first I couldn’t see what it was. It looked like a rope, and yet it seemed singularly stiff and inflexible.
“Form a circle,” breathed Drummond to the other three. “Not too near. For Heaven’s sake don’t let us be surprised from behind.”
“What on earth is it that he’s paying out?” I whispered in his ear as he once more lay down beside me.
“Tubing of sorts,” he answered. “Don’t talk—watch.”
From below came a whistle, and the man immediately stopped. Then a few seconds later came another whistle and the man disappeared. Something must have swung into position behind him, for the light no longer shone out; only a faint lessening of the darkness marked the spot where he had been. And then, though it may have been my imagination, I thought I heard a slight gurgling noise such as a garden hose makes when you first turn the water on.
For some time nothing further happened; then again from below came the whistle. He must have been waiting for it from behind the screen, for he reappeared instantly. As before the light shone on him, and suddenly I felt Drummond’s hand close on my arm like a vice. For the man was wearing india rubber gauntlets.
Coil by coil he pulled the tubing up until it was all in: then again he disappeared and the screen swung down, shutting out the light.
“Stockton,” whispered Drummond, “we’ve found ’em.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“Explore,” he said quietly. “If we’d got through without bumping their sentries, I’d have given it a chance till daylight tomorrow. As it is, it’s now or never.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” I remarked.
“All right,” he whispered. “But I’m going down to reconnoitre first.”
He collected the other three and gave his orders. He, Jerningham and I would go down and force an entrance through the front of the cliff: the other two would guard our retreat and hold the rope for us to ascend again. But Toby was adamant. There was a large post rammed into the ground for some purpose or other to which the rope could be attached, and he and Peter insisted on coming too. And even in the darkness I could see Drummond’s quick grin as he agreed.
“As soon as I signal all right, the next man comes down. And if they find the bally rope and cut it we’ll fight our way out through the back door. One other thing: instructions re revolvers cancelled. It’s shoot quick, and shoot often. Great Heavens! what’s that?”
From somewhere near by there came a dreadful chattering laugh followed by a babble of words which died away as abruptly as it had started. To the others it was merely a sudden noise, staggering because of the unexpectedness of it, but to me it was a paralysing shock which for the moment completely unnerved me. For the voice which had babbled at us out of the night was the voice of Robin Gaunt.
IX
In Which We Are Entertained Strangely in Black Mine
“You’re certain of that?” muttered Drummond tensely, for even his iron nerves had been shaken for the moment.
“Absolutely,” I answered. “That cry came from Robin Gaunt.”
“Then that finally proves that we’re on to ’em. Let’s get busy: there’s no time to lose.”
We made fast the rope, and then lay peering over the edge of the cliff as he went down hand over hand. For a moment the light gleamed out as he drew aside the screen, and then we heard his whispered “Come on.” One after another we followed him till all five of us were standing in the cave. Behind us a curtain of stout sacking, completely covering the entrance, was all that separated us from a hundred-feet fall into the Atlantic: in front—what lay in front? What lay round the corner ten yards away? Even now, though many months have elapsed since that terrible night, I can still feel the pricking at the back of my scalp during
