'I bagged this from the sentry. There's just half an inch of candle in it. We've nothing to do but lay a train of loose powder up to it.'
Roy chuckled again.
'You're a bad 'un to beat, Ken. Yes, that ought to work. Let's get at it.'
The powder was just as old-fashioned as the rest of the outfit. Common black stuff, large grained, coarser even than blasting powder. Once they got a bag open it did not take them long to lay the train to the lantern, which Ken placed in a little excavation kicked out right under the front wall of the earthwork.
'Don't think any one will see it there,' he said, as he cut the candle down a trifle and lit it cautiously with a sputtering sulphur match, part of the spoil from the Turkish sentry.
'I suppose those sentries are far enough off to be all right,' he added, as he rose hastily to his feet.
'Bless you, yes. This stuff isn't like high explosive. It'll only go up with a bang and a fizz like a big firework. Skip. We've got to be at the beach by the time she goes off.'
They knew their way by now, and in spite of the darkness, wasted very little time in reaching the ravine. All was very quiet. The Turkish guns, which had been firing probably at some mine-sweeper, were silent again. The only sounds of war were an occasional boom far to the south where the British and French faced the Turks entrenched on the heights of Achi Baba.
Bent double, the two scurried across the waste of cracked clay and loose stones, and in less than half the time they had taken for their first journey, reached the point where it debouched upon the open beach.
Ken dropped, panting slightly, and Roy slipping down beside him, caught a glint of dark water rippling under the starlight.