"I don't want to disappoint you," said Mr. O'Hagan, pulling at his moustache, "but it's too risky--indeed it is. What would your poor mother say?"
Tim was so well accustomed to this appeal ad matrem that it had quite lost its effect.
"She'd jib to begin with, to be sure," he said, "but she'd give in in the end; she always does when it's not an absolute question of right or wrong. You'd better say yes, Father."
It was on the tip of his tongue to relate the adventures of the previous day, but he reflected that the story might have quite the opposite effect from what he intended. Mr. O'Hagan's last instructions to him had been not to go adventuring, and though he felt that he could hardly be blamed for adventures which had hurled themselves at him unsought, it was probable that his father would not recognise any reasoning of that kind. So he confined his arguments strictly to the matter in hand. Mr. O'Hagan's opposition was really half-hearted. He had come to have great faith in Tim's resourcefulness and luck. Ultimately he agreed to let the boy do what he had suggested; the success of his scheme might prove to be the turning-point of the struggle.
Helped by a half-moon, Tim set off about midnight with a dozen of the Japanese who had served in the army, including three gunners. As weapons they carried only revolvers and knives, with a good supply of cartridges. One of them had a dark lantern for signalling the result of the expedition to Mr. O'Hagan. Slipping down the road for some distance in the direction of San Rosario, they turned to the right, and roped themselves together for the climb into the hills.
It was the hardest job that Tim had ever undertaken. He had no compass, and could only direct his course by the position of the moon. Its light was not sufficient to enable him to choose the easiest way. There was no path. At the head of the line he clambered up wherever he could find foothold, sometimes, indeed, crawling on all-fours up slippery slopes, scrambling over or between boulders, now and then brought up by a sheer wall of rock impossible to scale. The party had often to rest and recover breath, and the ascent was so arduous and slow that he was a little uneasy lest the dawn should surprise them before they gained the summit. To make matters worse the moon was dropping, and its incessant change of position rendered it a far from trustworthy guide.
At last, after three hours of fatiguing work, they reached the crest of the ridge, where they caught sight of the lights in the Prefect's camp below them far away to the west. Tim guessed that the guns were placed somewhere along the ridge. He stole along quietly, stopping now and again to listen for signs of the men in charge. Presently he came to a formidable buttress of rock projecting over the valley and rising many feet above the general level. It appeared to be the highest point in this part of the country, and if the top was flat, was the most likely place to have been chosen for the gun platform. Whispering to his men to move as quietly as possible, he led them along a narrow ledge on the face of the cliff below the buttress, edging into the wall on his left hand so as to avoid a fatal fall into the depths.
At the farther end of the ledge he halted. It was now almost dark; the moon had descended below the hills on the opposite side of the road. But by aid of the last lingering sheen he detected signs of recent pick-work on the ground, just beyond the spot where he stood. Evidently a squad of labourers had been employed to clear a passage for the guns. There was no sound. Casting off the rope, Tim stole forward alone, and soon discovered a rough path leading in the reverse direction towards the rear of the buttress.
His heart pumping with excitement, he returned to the men, and whispered his final instructions. There was to be no firing unless they had to defend themselves against overpowering numbers. Then he led them on noiselessly up the path. It ended sooner than he expected. He came suddenly to a level space of some extent, on which he saw two guns, pointing over the valley. Stretched on the ground behind them were ten men. They were asleep. Secure in their supposed inaccessibility, they had posted no guard.
Tim paused a moment, then ordered his men to steal round until they completely encompassed the sleeping crew. At a low whistle from him they sprang forward; there was a brief and almost silent struggle; and the enemy, only half awake, found themselves prisoners. Not a shot was fired; scarcely a wound was given.