“Somebody is trying to contact me,” Juin whispers hoarsely. He, together with Jack Ritchie and Catroux, is lying flat on their stomachs on the stone floor, just like little children. “So you were not wrong when you heard something, Sergeant Catroux.” Juin takes a long, empty cigarette holder out of his pocket and starts to tap on the floor with it, also in Morse code. “Juin here, Juin here.”
There are a couple of seconds of silence, and then Ritchie asks. “Who can it be, mon officier? Could it be one of the guards trying to help us?”
mon officier“Heaven knows. I hope it is not some ploy to set us up.”
Some more tapping from underneath the stone.
“Let us loosen the stone and try to lift it.”
Juin feels with his fingers around the outline of the big stone and gives attention to the seam
