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Updated: August 20, 2024
We waited till they died away, and then climbed the hill to Les Lâches and sped across by the old ruins, with a wide berth to the great Creux at the head of Derrible Bay, and down over the Hog's Back into Dixcart Valley, where we knew, and they knew, their best chances lay.
She stood there watching, until she saw the boats put off, and then she turned and sped like a rabbit across the waste lands across the Coupée over Clos Bourel fields into Dixcart over Hog's Back to the Creux. She ran through the tunnel just as the boats came up, and her eyes were wide with expectant fear, as they swept them hungrily.
So, out past the Lâches, with the tide boiling round the point; past Derrible, with its yawning black mouths; past Dixcart with its patch of sand; under the grim bastions of the Cagnon; the clean grey cliffs and green downs above, all smiling in the morning sun; the clear green water creaming among the black boulders, hissing among their girdles of tawny sea-weeds, cascading merrily down their rifted sides; round the Convanche corner, so deftly close that the beauty of the water cave is bared to them, if they had eye or thought for anything but that which lies under the cliff in Coupée Bay.
He and the rest went on up the hillside to Les Lâches, and we four set to work hauling and piling, till the seaward mouth of the tunnel leading from the road to the shore was barred against any possible entrance. And listening anxiously through our barrier, with the stillness of the tunnel behind us, we presently heard the sound of the toiling oars pass slowly on towards Dixcart.
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