After all that he had planned, and all that he had accomplished by many months of personal energy and resource, he saw complete and ignominious failure staring him in the face.

He realised the heavy financial loss to the Ulster Loyalists, for his cargo represented about L70,000 of their money; and he realised the bitter disappointment of their hopes, which was far worse than any loss of money.

He pictured to himself what must happen in the morning--"to have to follow a torpedo-boat into the naval base and lie there till the whole Ulster scheme was unravelled and known to the world as a ghastly failure, and the Province and Sir Edward and all the leaders the laughing stock of the world"-- and the thought of it all plunged him almost into despair.
Almost, but not quite.

He was not the man to give way to despair.

If it came to the worst he would "put all the foreign crew and their belongings into the boats and send them off; Agnew and I would arm ourselves with a bundle of rifles, and cut it open and have 500 rounds to fight any attempt to board us, and if we slipped this by any chance, he and I would bring her to England together, he on deck and I in the engine-room.