Before seven o'clock they will be
launched."
"You play a bold game, dear friend. Suppose, now, that Smellie _had_
kept the cutter cruising off the coast?"
The Major smiled again, this time with _finesse_. "The man is
ambitious, I tell you. By employing the cutter he might indeed have
intercepted the cargo. But he flies at higher game." Here the Major
lightly tapped his chest to indicate the quarry. "In generalship, my
dear doctor, to achieve anything like the highest success, you must
fight with two heads--your own and your adversary's. By putting
myself in Smellie's place; by descending (if I may so say) into the
depths of his animal intelligence, by interpreting his hopes, his
ambitions . . . well, in short, I believe we have weathered the risk.
The Mevagissey fleet puts out to the grounds to-night, to anchor and
drop nets as usual. With them our friends from Guernsey--shall we
say?--will mingle as soon as night is fallen, hang out _their_
riding-lights, lower _their_ nets, and generally behave in a fashion
indistinguishable from that of other harvesters of the sea, until the
hour when, with lightened hulls and, I trust, in full regimentals
(for they carry their uniforms on board) they join us for the Grand
Assault."
"But--excuse me--how much does the town know of this programme?"
The Major shrugged his shoulders. "As little as I could manage.
I have incurred some brief unpopularity, no doubt, among the fairer
portion of our community, who deem that I am denying them their
annual May-day jaunt.
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