Feeling for a foothold, and cautiously making sure that the projecting stones would bear his weight, the Sub climbed to the summit of the barrier, then, lying at full length, peered over the edge.
A heavy shell had accounted for the damage done to this exit from the magazine, for a huge crater, twenty feet in diameter, yawned ten feet beneath him. Not only had the pit been torn up, but masses of rock had been wrenched from the of the cliff, as well as from the top and sides of the tunnel.
On the irregular platform thus formed were nearly a score of Turkish troops—artillerymen in greatcoats and helmets somewhat similar to those worn by the British during the last Sudan campaign. With them were two officers in long grey cloaks and fezes. All seemed to be talking at the same time, irrespective of disparity in rank. Some of the men were piling sand-bags on the seaward front of the crater, others were looking upwards as if expecting something from above.
Presently the expected object appeared, lowered by a powerful tackle. It was the carriage of a large field-piece.
"Those fellows show pluck, anyhow," thought Dick. "After the gruelling they've had, and seeing their forts knocked about their ears, they set about to place fresh guns in position. These field-pieces, well concealed, will take a lot of finding, unless we can stop the little game."
Meanwhile Sefton had climbed the barrier and lay by the side of his companion. Silently the two watched the development of the Turks' operations. They had not long to watt.
A pair of wheels followed the carriage, and then after a brief interval the huge gun, "parbuckled" from the edge of the cliff, was lowered into position. In less than half an hour the piece was reassembled; ammunition was brought down, and finally brushwood placed in front on the sand-bags and over the gun; while to show how complete had been the Germanizing of Turkey, a field-telephone had been laid between the emplacement and those on either side, which, of course, was invisible to the two British officers.
For some time the Turkish officers kept the trawlers and attendant destroyers under observation with the field-glasses. The men were obviously impatient to open fire, yet for some inexplicable reason they were restrained. Possibly it was to lure the mine-sweepers into a sense of security, or else the Turks thought fit to ignore the small craft and await the chance of a surprise attack upon the covering British battleships and cruisers.
Being well within the mouth of the tunnel, Dick and the midshipman were not exposed to the driving rain. But on the other hand the Turkish artillerymen were without any means of protection from the downpour, and, since they could not show their zeal by opening fire, they did not hesitate to show their resentment at being kept out in the open.
At length one of the Turkish officers gave an order. The men formed up with a certain show of smartness, broke into a quick march, and disappeared beyond a projection of the cliff. Only one man was left as sentry, and he hastened to get to leeward of a friendly rock. From where the two Englishmen lay, the point of his bayonet could just be discerned above the top of the boulder.