"As a matter of fact, our great enemy will be thirst. I am frightfully thirsty already, for that matter."
And I said:
"So am I, now you mention it."
As the light died away, we held a sort of a council, and tried to decide what exactly was our duty--to England firstly, and to ourselves secondly. We talked a good deal, until our voices grew queer to ourselves, and it all came back to the same simple fact--our duty was to get out, and we couldn't.
Then I had the best idea that had yet come to us.
I said:
"As we can't get out, we must try and get somebody in the outer world to let us out. The only question is, shall we attract anybody but the spy if we raise an alarm?"
Cornwallis said of course that was the question; but it didn't matter, because we couldn't raise an alarm.
I said:
"If we howl steadily together once every sixty seconds by your watch, like a minute-gun at sea, somebody is bound to hear sooner or later."