It was only a floating piece of wood dipping up and down, but it made the girl spring forward and over the edge of the cliff down on to the black rocks bared by the tide—a low one. There was only one cave which she wanted to see, the cave close by the hidden one which Crabbit had gone into. "Hi, Crabbit, leave these gulls!" said Gheena; "I want you." She peered into the hole which Crabbit had leapt through, wrinkled her nostrils, wrinkled them again, her heart thumping. She scrambled into the open cave as if she were Grandjer hot on a fox, her eyes sparkling and yet full of fear. It was a slimy cave, with a wide creek leading into it when the tide was high. A large boulder in the cavern stood in a pool of cold dank water. Gheena removed her shoes and splashed into the pool, squeezing between the brown boulder and the wall; the pool deepened, but next moment, with a scream, she felt a hole leading into the next cave. Switch went her small electric torch, and she saw the dark gap, completely invisible from the far side of the boulder. Beyond it was a kind of open ledge quite wide enough for a man to pass through comfortably. Next moment Gheena and Crabbit were peering into the further cave, the torch making an elusive glimmer, and still her heart thumped heavily.
The lower half was damp where the tide poured in, but the torch glimmered.... The upper and dry range of irregular ledges was covered with tins of petrol.
It was so easy to see that Gheena knew some light must come from above, and then saw a little tunnel going to the outer world, enough to put a little light and air into the place.
The easiness of rowing stores up the creek and putting them through was now completely apparent; and, at the same time, with a crisp chill not caused by the atmosphere, Gheena remembered that this meant war, and that the man who had put the petrol there would probably add Miss Freyne and Crabbit to his store if he found them. Which man? She slipped out of the cave, splashed through the pool, noticed how an overhanging rock almost completely hid the aperture, and bolted for sunlight with her shoes in her hands. She put them on her numbed feet outside, and then going back to the car, absolutely sat down to think.
The elusive quarry of her chase stood before her with bared teeth, and, never having expected to catch it, Gheena Freyne backed away. This was grave. It was war. Something outside light confidences to Violet Weston, or the Professor. The trouble grew deeper in her eyes. It was something to watch for herself.
A boat in the shadows outside by the point would see the submarine run and see who supplied it. Gheena shivered, and Crabbit went down to catch a gull.
Yes, who supplied it? Her eyes were heavy. If she went to the coastguards, their clumsy zeal would be sure to muddle everything. "They would sit about the rocks like a lot of puffins," said Gheena aloud, "and pretend they were looking for shrimps in May." General Brownlow must be written to, but ... Behind it all lurked a fear deeper than she had felt in the cold cave. The fear of whom she might see rowing out in the boat ... the betrayer ... a paid German agent and, doubtless, spy.
It was a very long way to row round from Castle Freyne, but no great distance from the Dower House, and no comment would be made if she took a boat over there, left it and walked back. Phil must paint both grey to match the night ... and then ... Who did it?
Crabbit sat on the car when he was whistled for; he was blighted and put out. These gulls were afraid of him, and barking from pinnacles of rock was not amusing.
Gheena pressed her self-starter, wheeled round perilously and bumped up the lane, her discovery weighing her down. Who supplied the petrol? Whose face would she see when she watched from the shadows?