“Okay. I’m going down to the road-block now.”
The policeman saluted and walked over to open the gates.
Conrad drove down the long narrow road until they came to the road-block. He spoke to the guards, warned them to keep on the alert, satisfied himself the search-light was working and there were no absentees, then he swung the car on to a dirt track that led to the cliff head.
Half-way up the track, he came to another guard post, and leaving the car, he walked with Madge up the steep path that brought them to the top of the perpendicular cliff.
There were three sentry-box huts on the cliff top, about a hundred yards apart. Guards were patrolling the cliff, and one of them came over when he caught sight of Conrad in the failing light.
Leaving Madge, Conrad walked the length of the cliff head with the guard.
“Watch out tonight,” he cautioned. “It’s going to be bad, and it’ll be on a night
like this they might try to reach the lodge, if they’re going to try.”
“They won’t come this way, sir,” the guard said. “I’ve done a bit of mountain climbing myself. No one could climb up here. I’ve looked it over pretty thoroughly. It’s impossible to climb.”
“All the same, keep your eyes skinned. Your lights all right?”