“Of course. There’s a wireless station up there—they’ll get Aylwin for you. If he should be away they will know where to send a message.” “Very well. And what will you three do?” David Linton’s eyes lingered hungrily on his son. “We can only get the beacon ready, and then watch. Two of us can hide near the cave, and the third must be up on the point to light the fire if he hears a shot. If they come—well, we must let them land and get to the cave; and then we must try to prevent their getting back.” “You will be heavily outnumbered.” “Yes—but the advantage of surprise will be on our side, and we can take cover. I do not dare to get help; it may not be safe to trust anyone.” “Very well,” David Lint on said, quietly. “Will you order the motor, O’Neill? I can be off in three minutes.” He shook hands with the boys, wishing them luck very gravely knowing that in all probability it was the last time he should speak to them. Jim went downstairs with him, without a word. Con and the motor were at the door. “You’ll be there by eight o’clock, with luck,” O’Neill said. “Remember, you’re racing, Con. And——” He dropped his voice. “I’ll keep him safe for you if I can, sir.’ “Thanks,” said David Linton. He shook hands with his boy again. The motor whirred off in a cloud of dust. They went up the staircase in silence, to where Norah and Wally waited for them. “Wally has told me all about it,” said Norah, pale, but steady-eyed. “Oh, Sir John, I could help! Do let me.” “You can help by keeping out of harm’s way,” he told her, gently. “And you all fighting!” “Norah, dear, we can’t have you in it,” O’Neill said. “I know it’s hard: far harder than anything we have to do. But you have too much sense not to know that this isn’t woman’s work.” Norah choked back a sob. “I know you couldn’t have me where there’s shooting,” she said. “But I can do something, if you’ll let me: and in Australia women always did help men when there was need, and they didn’t talk about things being ‘women’s work.’ Women had to fight the blacks, too.” “Norah, we _can’t_ let you fight,” Jim said. “Be sensible, old kiddie.” “I don’t want to fight,” said poor Norah. “At least, I do, but I know that’s out of the question. But why on earth shouldn’t I light the beacon?” “Because there would be risk,” O’Neill said roughly. “Norah, I hate hurting you. Don’t make it harder for us.” “I don’t want to, indeed I don’t,” Norah faltered. “But . . .” There was a lump in her throat, and she turned away, fighting for her voice. Jim’s arm round her shoulders steadied her. “You know you’ll be outnumbered,” she said. “You can’t tell any of these people, and there are only the three of you until daddy brings help. And one of you is going to light the beacon! If you let me do it, it leaves you all free to fight; and there’s no risk to me. No one will be on the point. I’d only have to light a match and get out of the way.”