"If we howl steadily together once every sixty seconds by your watch,
like a minute-gun at sea, somebody is bound to hear sooner or later."
And he said:
"Far from it, Towler. We shall only tire ourselves out, and get hungry,
as well as thirsty, for no good. Our voices wouldn't go any distance
through these solid walls, and, even if they did, we are evidently in a
frightfully lonely and secluded place, miles and miles from
civilization, else the spy wouldn't have chosen it for his operations."
I admitted this, but we did try a yell or two. The result was feeble,
and I myself said that if any belated traveller heard it, he would only
murmur a prayer and cross himself, and hurry on, like they do in books.
Then Cornwallis decided to break the window. He didn't know why
exactly, but he felt he wanted to be up and doing in a sort of way.
Besides, it was beastly fuggy in the spy's den; so we broke the window
with a boat-hook, and I got on the shoulders of Cornwallis and had a
good yell through it; but no answer came.
Then another idea struck me, and it was undoubtedly this idea that saved
the situation. We got the old ship's bell and hung it up on a rope as
near the window as possible, and hammered it with the boat-hook, taking
turns of five minutes each.
This created an immense volume of sound, and though, of course, it was
more--far more--likely to bring the spy back than anybody else, we had
now reached a pitch of despair, and would have even welcomed the spy in
a sort of way. Cornwallis from time to time still worried about our
duty, but I had long passed that, for it was nine o'clock. So at last I
told him to shut up and hit the bell harder.
It was now quite dark, and from time to time heavy drops of rain fell
through the window. The sea-going lamp would have been very useful now,
for we might have signalled with it; but though there was an oil-lamp in
it, we had no matches, and it was therefore useless.
Then, in a lull, when I was handing over the boat-hook to Cornwallis,
whose turn it was to hammer the bell, we distinctly heard the stealthy
sound of the motor-boat returning, and Cornwallis, mounting my
shoulders, and nearly breaking my neck in his excitement, reported a red
light below.
Then he heard several harsh voices.
Cornwallis said:
"We are now probably done for, Towler. The spy has evidently been to a
submarine, and he's heard the bell, and you can pretty easily guess what
submarine Germans will do to us. In fact, our Fate is right bang off."