nd.

He must have thus minutely examined at least fifteen or sixteen when, at
the sharp bend of the road, he apparently discovered something of which
he was in search. The pole stood close beside the narrow pathway, and as
he examined it with his magnifying-glass I also became curious. But all
I distinguished were three small gimlet holes set in a triangle in the
black tarred wood about four inches apart.

"Count the wires, Jack," he said. "I make them twenty-six. Am I
correct?"

I counted, and found the number to be right.

Then for some moments he stood in thoughtful silence, gazing away over
the wide view of St. Margaret's Hope spread before him.

Afterwards we moved forward. Passing along, he examined each of the
other poles, until we descended the hill to the Ferry Toll, where the
high road and wires branched off to the right to Dunfermline. Then,
taking the left-hand road along the shore, where ran a line of
telephone, we passed some wharves, gained the Limpet Ness, and for a
further couple of miles skirted the moonlit waters, until, of a sudden,
there came into view a long corrugated-iron building lying back from the
road facing the Forth and fenced off by a high spiked-iron railing. The
entrance was in the centre, with nine long windows on either side, while
at a little distance further back lay a small bungalow, evidently the
residence of the caretaker.

"This," exclaimed my friend without halting, "is the much-discussed
Rosyth. These are the Admiralty offices, and from here the tracing of
that plan was obtained."

"A rather lonely spot," I remarked.

"Over yonder, beyond that ruined castle out on the rocks, where Oliver
Cromwell's mother was born, is the site of the new naval base. You'll
get a better view from the other side of the hill," he said in a low
voice.

"Who lives in the bungalow?" I inquired.

"Only the caretaker. The nearest house is on top of the hill, and is
occupied by the second officer in charge of the works."

Continuing our way and passing over the hill, we skirted a wood, which I
afterwards found to be Orchardhead Wood, passed a pair of lonely
cottages on the right, until we reached a lane running down to the
water's edge. Turning into this lane, we walked as far as a gate which
commanded the great stretch of broad, level meadows and the wide bay
beyond. Leaning over it, he said:

"This is where the new naval base is to be. Yonder, where you see the
lights, is Bruce Haven."