"Hang it all!" he soliloquized. "I was much too hard on the young rascal. We all make mistakes. It was a mistake on my part that landed me in this hole. The Service lost a promising officer when Dacres sent in his papers. If ever I get clear of Naocuanha I'll do my very best to make things right for him."
With this praiseworthy resolution Rear-Admiral Maynebrace sank back in his chair to endure the dreadful monotony of his cell, for the only diversion he had was to make a systematic onslaught upon the swarm of insects that pestered him with their lively attentions.
While the Valderian soldier was securing the door of the Admiral's cell Dacres took particular notice of the lock. It was not morticed into the woodwork but simply screwed on from the outside. A fairly heavy hammer and a cold chisel would, he reflected, soon make short work of the lock on the door of No. 19, for that was the official designation of Rear-Admiral Maynebrace's substitute for the cabin of H.M.S. "Repulse."
The next cell was empty, but prudence compelled the two "electrical engineers" to spend a few minutes in taking bogus measurements. The adjoining one was occupied by a bearded man whom Dacres rightly surmised to be Gerald Whittinghame. There was a strong facial and bodily resemblance between him and the Captain of the "Meteor."
Still pursuing his quasi-professional tactics Dacres explained who and what his visitors really were, and at the same time cautioning the prisoner to act with discretion and not to speak a word in reply. Acting implicitly on these instructions Gerald Whittinghame assumed a despondent air, burying his hand on his arm as if completely indifferent to the presence of the three men.
But, presently, in the lull in his monologue Dacres' quick ear detected a systematic tapping made by the prisoner's fingers upon the deal table. He was replying in Morse.
"Carry on, I understand," said Dacres who, rule in hand, was fumbling on his knees in one corner of the cell, while Henri was taking down the measurements in his notebook.
"Tell Vaughan to attempt rescue before Friday," rapped out the message. "Zaypuru is coming here. Wants me to be a traitor to my country, or——"
The message broke off abruptly. Of the ominous nature of the incompleted part there could be no doubt.
"I say, Henri," said Dacres. "There's precious little time to be lost. I vote we make some excuse to leave Naocuanha to-night. Cut and run for it, if necessary."