“Right. I expect there’ll be nothing to tell. Good-night, darling.” For one moment he held her in his arms and kissed her, and then hurried out, picking up his revolvers as he went.
He found his six men waiting for him. One of them held a torch, and Pryce made him put it out at once. Then he stationed his men at the different points from which they were to keep a look-out, not far from one another, along the hedge-crowned bank at the foot of the garden. Of course an attack from some other direction was quite possible, but the place was too large and the men at his disposal too few to keep a watch all round. It would have been impossible, even if he had made use of the boys who acted as house-servants, and he had decided not to use them for this purpose at all. They had no training and too much temperament; they would have been certain to see what was not there, and to make a noise at the critical moment when silence was essential. He kept them within the house, where under the direction of Tiva and Ioia they filled buckets and soaked blankets in order that they might deal at once with any attempt to fire the place. This being done, Tiva and Ioia, as Pryce had directed, extinguished every light in the house.
On the whole, Pryce was not ill-satisfied. The rebels, he could see now, had lit torches; a hundred points of light circled among the dark trees below him. If they came carrying torches, they would be a clear mark. Also, if they came at all, they would be mad with liquor, and the strategy of the drunken is not to be feared. They would take the shortest and nearest road, and make a frontal attack at the point where Pryce’s men kept watch. Here between the high bank and the plantations beyond was a broad belt clear of cover, and there was plenty of reflected light at present; it seemed unlikely that any party of the rebels could get across the clearing without being seen. Pryce was pleased, too, with the six men that Smith had left him. They were very keen, and they were quick to understand what was expected of them.
Going off by himself to see that all was right at the back of the house, Pryce was a little surprised to encounter Lechworthy, wearing his semi-clerical felt hat and calmly enjoying his briar pipe.
“Hullo!” said Pryce. “Thought you were in bed.”
“No,” said Lechworthy. “You don’t mind, do you? I said nothing just now, because I didn’t want to make Hilda nervous, but I should like to be in this. I can’t shoot, but I can keep a look-out for you. My eyesight’s good and I can do what I’m told.”
“Right,” said Pryce. “I’m glad to have you. I was just thinking that I could do with another man. Come along with me and I’ll place you. By the way, you might knock that pipe out. There’s a breath of wind got up and those beggars have keen noses. You see, my idea is that if they do come they shall think we are quite unprepared—all in bed and asleep, trusting to Smith and the men with him. Gives us a better chance, eh?”
Lechworthy’s pipe was already back in his pocket. “I see,” he said. “Quite sound, I think. Is this my place?”
“Yes. You watch the road. Neither to right nor to left—just the road. If they come at all, I hope they’ll come by the road. It’ll mean they’re being pretty careless. If you see anything on the road, don’t shout. Move along the bank to your left till you come to one of the men of the patrol, and tell him; he knows what to do. It’s rather dull work, but don’t go to sleep; the thing one’s looking for generally comes ten seconds after one has stopped looking.”