She yielded then very quickly.  It seemed a relief to her at last to subject her views to those of men whose purpose was merely honest.  Will took up the reins at once.

“We’ve talked over buying the boat,” he said, “but that’s hopeless.  The more we paid for it the louder the owner would brag.  The Germans would be ‘on’ in a minute.  We’ve simply got to steal it.  It’s up to you to find out the man’s proper name and address, and we’ll send him the money from the first British post-office we reach.”

“Don Quixote de la Mancha!” she said critically.  “Well—­we steal the boat and you pay for it afterward.  The owner will think you are crazy, and if the Germans ever discover it they will take the money away from him by some legal process.  But go on!”

“We’ve plenty of money,” said Will, “so there’s no need to worry about too many supplies to begin with.  But we’ll need scant rations for ourselves and all our men until we reach some place where more are to be bought.  And we’ve got to get them on board the dhow secretly.  The first question is, how to do that.”

She told us at once of a path going round by the back of the hill behind us, that would make the trip to the dhow in the dark a matter of over two miles, but that avoided all sentries and habitations.  We agreed that all three of us should climb to the top of the hill, which was not out of bounds—­and study the track next morning.  On the fateful night we must take our chance, just as she had done, of avoiding the sleepy-eyed sentry who kept watch over the Greeks.

“We’ll talk to Brown of Lumbwa on the morning and afternoon march around the township,” Will went on.  “Brown must whisper to Kazimoto through the corrugated iron partition in the jail at night, and have them all ready to break loose at the signal and bring him along with them.  We must be careful to show Brown just where the dhow is.  He has been sober quite a while.  Maybe he’ll remember if we direct him carefully.”

“What is to be the signal?” she asked.

“Just what I’m coming to,” said Will.  “A fire-alarm on the first windy night!  The next question is, who is to start the fire?  We’ll need a good one!  Yet if we do it, we’re likely to be caught by the crowd coming running to deal with it.”

“Coutlass!” she answered suddenly.  “Coutlass and his two friends!”

“You’ll perhaps pardon me,” Fred answered, “but none of us would trust those Greeks as far as a hen could swim in alcohol!”

“Yet you must!  Leave them to me!  They don’t know that the sand in my glass has run down.  Let me go to them presently, pretending that I went direct to them and am afraid of being seen by you.  I will tell them that the Germans want a good excuse for putting you three men in jail and that they will he sent away free as a reward if they will start a fire and charge you afterward with arson!  I will tell them to choose the first windy night, so as to have a really spectacular blaze worth committing perjury about!”