[Chapter 16]: A Desperate Attempt.
"So far, so good, Percy!" Ralph said, when they heard the street door slam, as the orderly left. "Hitherto we have had the most extraordinary good fortune and, as it's going to snow--for I felt a few flakes, as we came along--I look upon it as good as done."
"It will take away from us risk of being hit, but I don't see that it will make much difference in our risk of being drowned," Percy said. "I own, Ralph, I am a great deal more afraid of that, than of the other."
"But it does, Percy. It makes all the difference in the world. We had agreed that we would put on life belts; but that we would blow the smallest quantity of air possible into them, so that they might give us some slight assistance, and yet not be too buoyant to prevent us from diving. Now we can blow them up with wind, so as to prevent the possibility of our being drowned. Once in the water, and we are safe from everything except a stray bullet. In a snowstorm, on such a dark night as this, they could not see our heads five yards off."
"But what is worse, Ralph, we shall not be able to see five yards, either; and should have no idea where we were swimming."
"I had not thought of that, Percy. Yes, that would be very serious," and Ralph thought, for some time. "It seems a risk, this, Percy; but I can see no plan, except to draw their fire."
"How do you mean?" Percy asked, puzzled.
"You see, Percy, our idea before was to get down to the shore, to put our dummy into the water, and to let it float down a hundred yards--the length of its string--and then to start ourselves, holding the other end of the string, in hopes that--if the sentries are really sharply on the lookout--they would see the dummy, instead of us, as it will be a much more conspicuous object; especially as we intended to do as much diving as we could, and our movements forward would jerk the dummy's string, and make him bob, like a man swimming. If they once caught sight of it, they would be too busy firing at it to look about for anyone else.
"Well now, I think that instead of giving up the dummy altogether--as we might have done, now that the snow has come on--we must let it float gently down, for seventy or eighty yards; and then throw a stone into the water by it, so as to draw the attention of the sentry. Or--if the sentries are pretty far apart--one of us might make a great splash in the water, when the dummy is floating; and then run back before the sentry gets up, and get into the water quietly, higher up. Their fire will act as a guide to us."
"We had better start soon, Ralph. It may take us an hour, or even two, to get down to the water; for we must go along like ghosts, so as not to alarm the sentries; and we shall have walls to get over, and all sorts of difficulties."