Denbigh promptly returned to his lair. He was not a minute too soon, for just as he settled himself the boat-keepers returned and took up the strain on the bow ropes.
"A good rise and fall for neap tides," remarked one of the men. "If we get as much as this tomorrow we ought to be able to cross the bar. I don't fancy having to remain at anchor in this lagoon until the new moon with those English cruisers prowling around."
"Ach, we will take due precautions, Henrich," replied the other. "Once we get inside the reefs we are perfectly safe. It is the run across to the mainland that is the trouble. Come on, let us go back to our snug seat and have another smoke. It is indeed good to be able to tread dry land again, even if it is little better than a sandbank."
The men scrambled over the gunwale, and as soon as they were gone Denbigh took up his former position by the rowlock. He was just in time to see the whaler, lifted by a dozen brawny seamen and soldiers, topple bottom upwards into the trench. Without loss of time the Germans commenced to shovel back the soil. Others joined them, for the task of hiding the stores had been completed, and in a very short space of time the boat was quite covered, great care being taken to smooth the soft substratum until it showed no sign of having been disturbed.
The sub retreated to his hiding-place, for the men were beginning to return, straggling up in groups of threes and fours. The pinnace was backed out about half her own length and the men waded until they were able to climb on board.
They rowed back to the Pelikan. Once on the return journey the bowman, swinging his bare legs, caught Denbigh a blow on the forehead with his heel. Fortunately the fellow did not trouble to investigate, but the sub realized that it was a narrow squeak.
Arriving alongside the pinnace was hoisted out and stowed in its former place. The workers were dismissed, the watch changed, and quietude brooded over the ship.
"Now comes the rub," ejaculated the sub as he crept from his place of concealment. As agilely as a monkey he made his way along the steel beam until he gained the funnel ladder. Then he waited and listened. All was silence, save for the rumble of the surf and the subdued hiss of steam from the ship's boilers.
Unseen and unheard Denbigh gained the companion and descended the aft-deck. As he did so footsteps on deck told him he was barely in time. Cautiously he lifted the curtain that served to screen the light from the hatchway. The space beyond was deserted.
Swiftly he tiptoed to the door of the cabin. He tried the handle. The door refused to move. He knocked softly, thinking that O'Hara had fallen asleep. There was no response. Perhaps the Irishman had gone in search of him; but, if so, how could he have secured the door on the inside? Before Denbigh could knock again a steady tread resounded along the alley-way. The sentry on the aft-deck was coming towards him.