"And we'll be in the same boat if we're here long enough," continued Branscombe drily. "The blighters have collared our shaving-tackle. I've reason to believe my beard's red. What colour is yours, old man?"
He paused, deep in thought. Burgoyne made no reply. He, too, was thinking.
"By Jove!" continued the Fourth Officer. "I said 'we'll all be growing beards'. What about Miss Vivian? Won't that give the show away?"
"Yes," agreed Alwyn gravely. "We aren't having amateur theatricals. The false beard stunt wouldn't work. They'd twig it."
"We'll think of some wheeze, old man," rejoined Branscombe. "There's time yet, although I'm not one to shelve a proposition until it's too late."
He caressed his chin, already showing four days' growth of soft reddish down.
"An' they collared our shaving-mirrors," he continued. "Wonder what I look like now? What was the idea?"
"'Spose they thought we'd use them as heliographs," conjectured Burgoyne. "As for the razors, perhaps they've seen a nigger run amok with one. I did once. It was in New Orleans, and the fellow raised Cain till he was scuppered."
"But why safety-razors?" persisted Branscombe. Then, pointing to a fence, he changed the subject by exclaiming: "And there's home sweet home, my festive!"
The prisoners had now breasted the low ridge that, without taking into consideration the isolated hill, formed the dividing ridge of the island. Right ahead they could see the north-western part of the sea-girt base, terminated on three sides of an irregular quadri-lateral by tall cliffs. The fourth or landward side was enclosed by a lofty metal fence, made of pointed steel bars painted with the familiar "dazzle" affected by ships and fortifications during the Great War. In the fence was a large gate, on either side of which was a blockhouse on a slight artificial mound, with a pair of machine-guns so mounted as to command the whole of the enclosed space. Within the barrier was a conglomeration of huts, tents, and rough shelters, the whole forming the compound where the Malfilio's captives spent their scanty hours of rest and slumber.