“She’s the Heart of Ireland.”
“How do you know?”
“Lord! how do I know? I know. I feel it. What else can she be? Why she’s due. She’s just had time to mend herself and put out. What other boat would be putting into this God-forsaken place? And she seems about the size of the Heart. We’ll soon see. I’ve got the specification down in my head, that fellow gave it to me—two topmast, fifty-ton schooner, broad beam and dirty as Hades. Those are her beauty marks—we’ll soon see.”
“But she’d have passed the Wear Jack,” said George.
“Not if the Jack went south. And anyhow they’d have passed in the night; wouldn’t have seen each other.”
“What are we to do?” asked Tommie.
“I’m thinking,” said Hank. He looked round, brooded for a moment, and then stood looking out to sea. His ingenuity was at work. Then he spoke.
“There are no caves in these cliffs or we might hide there. No use scattering inland. First of all, if these chaps find nothing but the tents they’ll think us gone and they’ll go off with the tents and grub and everything. Then where would we be? We’ve got to hide and watch for chances.”
“Where?” asked George.