I
The boy's long face, anxious before, grew haggard now.
It wore the look of one with the enthusiasms of a saint across whose path Sin, the Insurmountable, has fallen suddenly.
"We're done," he said, husky and white.
His words revived the other. True man that he was, despair in the boy's heart quickened the courage in his own.
"Never say die till you're dead," he cried, squaring his shoulders— "that's the Englishman's motto."
His spirit rose to meet the occasion.
"Our theatrical friend outside there's no fool. But—but—but! there's just one element he's not reckoned with."
"What?" cried Kit, hanging on his words.
The Parson dropped head and voice.
"Who saved you from the Tremendous?" he whispered. "Who handed you up a cliff a goat couldn't climb?—who brought you to this house? —who put the flag-idea into your head, and brought it off?"
The Parson's words made sudden confusion in the lad's mind. It came to him with a shock of surprise to find such triumphant faith in this ruddy fighting-man.
"And why d'you think of all the houses in the world He sent you to this one?" the other continued.
"Because of you, sir."
The Parson frowned, and approached his lips to the lad's ear.
"Because it's got a secret passage!"
This most matter-of-fact explanation flashed the laughter to the boy's eyes.
"I mean it," said the other earnestly. "Ain't you noticed anything about the floor of the kitchen?"
"It sounds hollow."
"It is hollow. It's built over an old decoy-pond."
In a few words the Parson outlined the history of the secret passage.
A water-way had led from decoy-pond to sea. The sea had gone back and left the water-way and pond high and dry. Sixty years back a sly old sea-dog had built this lonely cottage over the pond. He had covered the water-way and made a drain of it. Thus he had secured a secret passage to the sea, and the cottage had become the receiving depôt of Ruxley's crew.
"Where does it lead to?" asked the boy, all eyes.
"Out into the creek we crossed on the way to the Wish."
"And how many people know about it?"
"Three. One's you; one's me; one's the son of the man who built the cottage—and that's old Piper down below there…. It's not been used for forty years. The sea went back and back, and the creek's been dry these years past."
Kit's knees invited him to prayer. This was not chance; it was not coincidence.
"You're right, sir," said the boy chokily. "He's in it."
"And what's more He's going to get us out," replied the Parson, cheerfully matter-of-fact.
The boy was slipping off his coat.
"I'd better start at once. There's not a second to lose. Nelson may sail this evening."
The Parson laid a kind hand on the lad's shoulder.
"The boy's as greedy for glory as Nelson himself," he laughed. "But the Navy can't do it all, you know. Give us a chance…. When we've got the best pair of legs South of Thames trained to a tick, and fighting mad for their chance, we may as well use em."
Kit gasped.
"Nipper Knapp!" and added in a flash, "May I go with him, sir?"
"To the mouth of the drain," said the Parson. "No further."