“I wonder what they’re doing over there?” Guyon said at his shoulder.
“They must have realised by now that something’s gone wrong.” Mallory shrugged. “If they’ve any sense at all they’ll have brought in Owen Morgan and gone to Guernsey for help in your launch.”
“Surely de Beaumont will have considered that possi-bility?”
“He probably has. That’s what’s worrying me.”
There was a rattle of bolts and the door opened. As they both turned, Marcel entered and stood to one side, a revolver in his right hand. The young sailor followed, carrying a tray which he placed on the bed. They withdrew without saying a word, bolting the door again.
The food was simple, bread and cheese and hot coffee, and Mallory suddenly realised how hungry he was. They sat on either side of the tray to eat and finished off by sharing his last cigarette.
Afterwards he lay on the bed waiting for something to happen, while Guyon paced restlessly up and down the cell, the rain hammering against the window. It was almost ten o’clock when the door opened again and de Beaumont en-tered, Marcel at his back.
He seemed in a good humour and smiled cheerfully. “Good morning, gentlemen. I trust you spent a good night? Your quarters are adequate?”
“I’ve seen worse,” Mallory admitted.
“Anything I can get you?”
“The condemned man’s last wish?” Mallory shrugged. “We could do with some cigarettes. That’s about all.”
Marcel took a packet of Gauloise from his pocket and threw them on the bed. “Anything else?” de Beaumont said politely.
Mallory put a cigarette in his mouth and tossed the packet to Guyon. “I don’t think so.”
“Then you will excuse me? You’ll be interested to know that Jacaud and his men left for Pointe du Chateau fifteen minutes ago as scheduled. Under the circumstances I think it’s time I paid a visit to our friends on fie de Roc.”
“I wouldn’t count on anyone being there to meet you.”
“Oh, they’ll be there, all right. I can assure you of that.”
De Beaumont smiled faintly as if enjoying some private joke, nodded to Marcel and passed outside. The door closed and the bolts were rammed home with a harsh finality.
Guyon turned with a gesture of despair and Mallory mo-tioned him to silence. When he went to the door the young sailor was back on his chair reading a magazine.
Mallory crossed to the window and looked outside. A minute or two later he heard the sound of an engine andFoxhunter came into view, running alongside the reef towards lie de Roc.
“There he goes.”
Guyon moved to the window, peered out and frowned. “But why has he takenFoxhunter ?
“Easier to handle thanFleur de Lys on the short run and there’s too much sea for the speedboat.”
Guyon, thinking of Fiona, dropped his cigarette and stamped on it viciously. “I didn’t like his last remark. He sounded far too sure of himself. As if he knew for certain that the General and the girls would still be on the island.”
“I imagine he does/ Mallory said. “It’s been a long night. He could have been up to anything, but that isn’t important at the moment. He probably only intends to bring them back here for safe custody until he’s ready to move out.”
“You may be right.”
“It’s Henri Granville I’m thinking about, sitting in the middle of the Gironde Marshes not knowing that sometime after noon there’ll be a knock at the door. I can see the smile on Jacaud’s face now.”
“And nothing we can do about it.”
“Plenty, if we could get out of here. There’s always the radio room in the tower, or theFleur de Lys would be a better bet. A boat of that size is bound to have a radio tele-phone.”
Guyon shook his head. “Those marshes are one of the most isolated places on the entire coast. Even if we managed to contact my people in Paris it would still be too late for Henri Granville. They’d never reach him in time.”
“But we could,” Mallory said.”L’Alouette will have tomake the entire run submerged. That will take her a good three hours.”