An hour later "No. 3" had steamed round to the south of the island and stopped her engines in the shadow of the big hill whose shoulder and flattened top loomed darkly above her, outlined against a faint moon. A strong, cold breeze blew down its slopes, but the sea was only gently ruffled by it. The first to land in the black shadows at its foot were the Commander, Glover, and two signalmen in one of the Berthon boats. With little danger or difficulty they reached the shore and jumped to land as the boat tore her bottom out against the rocky beach. A few minutes were spent in hurriedly choosing a more suitable landing-place, and then the spot was marked by a signal lantern placed at the water’s edge behind a great rock, so that its light could not be seen from shore. This was the signal for the rest of the party to land, and in a few minutes they heard the regular beat of oars, and the two cutters, appearing out of the dark, grated up the beach. The men with their rifles slung over their shoulders began hastily jumping ashore. "Keep your feet dry, men, and don’t hurry," said Cummins, as he saw them jumping into the water in their excitement to be the first ashore. The boats were hauled out of the water and then the order was given to "fall in". They "fell in" in three little detachments—twenty Royal Marine Light Infantry under their subaltern, a huge, jovial giant named Saunderson; ten blue-jackets under Pattison, the late skipper of destroyer "No. 1", who to his great joy had been taken out of the _Sylvia_ and given another chance; and twenty Royal Marine Artillery under their captain, Williams, a famous cricketer and Rugby player. These artillery or Blue Marines had to bring up the rear. The light infantry or Red Marines had to lead the party. The blue-jackets consisted of six seamen gunners, two armourers with tools to disable or repair the 12-inch gun, and two torpedo men with explosives to destroy it if necessary. Besides these fifty men and their officers there were two signalmen, Richardson, the "young doctor" of the _Laird_, a sick-berth steward, Glover, and the Commander. Half the men carried axes, half Wallace entrenching spades, and every six men had a nine-gallon water-breaker to carry up between them. Cummins went slowly from one group to another as they stood at the foot of that hill casting hurried glances upwards, and told them that it was two hours before sunrise, that they had two hours to get to the top, that there was to be no hurry, and that not a word was to be spoken. "You have to keep together, men. If any man loses touch with the rest, make uphill; he can’t go wrong." In single file, one after another, Cummins going first, Glover sticking to him like a leech, and the two signalmen close behind, they began to clamber up, hauling themselves hand over hand, forcing their way through bushes, and always keeping upward.