"Let's go and see," said Frank.
After no long search two electric lamps, fed from the dynamo that charged the fence wire, were discovered in the cliff opposite the centre of the channel. They were so placed as to give a straight course to any vessel coming up from the sea. Another lamp, invisible from the sea, marked the entrance to the pool. It was decided to switch on the current at dusk.
To guard against trouble on the landward side, two seamen were stationed in hiding near the gate of the inner fence, which was left open. If anyone should approach, he was to be allowed to pass in; but the gate was then to be closed, cutting off his retreat. For safety's sake, the electric current was switched off from the fence.
It was now about four o'clock. The lights would not need to be shown till nearly seven. There were three hours for rest and for recruiting their strength from Wonckhaus's larder. The officers hastened back to see what sort of a meal had been provided for them. It beggared their most hopeful expectation. There were pork cutlets--"the place is all pig, sir," remarked the extempore cook--several kinds of sausage, many varieties of pickle and relish, pots of caviare and pâté de foie gras, smoked salmon, a mellow gruyère cheese, as well as a very strong German cheese which the lieutenant-commander ordered to be removed immediately, tinned fruits, good white bread--"none of your potato flour for Wonckhaus"--and oceans of beer. Neither officers nor men had had such a meal for months.
"Please, sir," said Moggs, coming to the bungalow after the men had finished their dinner in the hut opposite.
"Well, what is it?"
"Can we strafe some more beer?"
"No, you've had enough. We've got work to do to-night."
Moggs looked disappointed.
"Then it won't be done, sir," he said.