battery was fully manned and getting ready for the dawn. Something red wavered for just a few seconds and then died as quickly.
He felt sweat on his neck and chest. That was a furnace door being opened and closed. They were heating shot to welcome the ship with fire.
He ducked down, and together the two of them lay side by side on the ground, faces almost touching.
Allday whispered, 'The battery's heating shot. That must be why we’ve got a native trooper as a sentry. Every Don in the camp will be an artilleryman, and needed for those damned cannon. '
Pascoe's face was pale in the darkness. 'What shall we do?'
Allday gestured at the flap. 'Just one guard, is there?' 'Aye. They seem to think we're safe enough.'
Allday grinned in spite of the mounting tension. 'With good reason, Mr. Pascoe! Not much harm we can do if we start walking, is there?'
'I know-' It sounded like a sob.
'Easy.' He touched his shoulder, feeling the rawness left by the sun. 'If we can make an explosion, like the way we spoke of, we might be able to drive the ship away.' Pascoe nodded firmly. 'How can we cross the camp? It must be all of a mile to the other side.'
Allday looked at the rear of the tent. 'If there is more than one guard, we are dead before we begin.' He let his words sink in. 'But if I take this one before he shouts for aid, one of us can wear his uniform.'
Pascoe wriggled on his stomach to the flap again. 'He's sitting down.' He came back again, moving like a poacher. 'I think he may be asleep. But take care. 'He touched his wrist. 'There could be more guards close by.'
Allday examined his crude knife and said, 'If I get taken before I can do anything, you stay still and pretend to be asleep. Don’t let on that we were doing it together.'
Pascoe showed his teeth. 'The hell with you, Allday!' Allday smiled. 'That's more the sound of it, Mr. Pascoe!' Pascoe stayed by the flap, shutting his ears to the steady scraping sound of Allday cutting through the tough canvas. The sentry did not move, and Pascoe was certain that some- one would hear the steady thud of his heart against his ribs.
The noise stopped and he took a quick glance across his shoulder..
'Are you going now?'
But he was alone.
He rose on one knee, holding his breath as Allday's shadow flitted round the side of the tent, his bare feet soundless on the sand. It was as if he had transformed himself into a great, enveloping cloak. One moment he stood there, towering above the dozing soldier. Then he was down and around him, merging the shadows into one, with little more noise than a brief yawn.
He tugged open the flap as Allday came back through the narrow entrance, dragging the inert soldier behind him.
Allday spoke through his teeth. 'Dare not light a lantern.
You’ll have to dress best you can. Here, pull his tunic off while I get his breeches. He stinks like a sow.' He groped quickly for a belt. 'Ah, he has a pistol, too.'
Pascoe felt the man's skin under his fingers. It was clammy and hot, but unmoving.
Allday muttered, 'I think I broke the bastard's neck.' Pascoe stared at him and tore off his own breeches. He stood naked for a few hesitant seconds before struggling into the dead soldier's. His own breeches were almost tom to shreds, but they were part of his remaining link. He tightened his lips. There was no link any more.
Next the tunic and belt. Allday was right. He would never have been able to get his powerful bulk into this man's clothing.
He heard Allday moving across the tent, the gurgling of wine, and wondered how he could drink at a time like this. He' gasped as Allday's dripping hands clamped around his face and neck and down the open collar of his tunic.
Allday said grimly, 'Got to make you as dark as possible see? God help us if they see you in daylight. Don’t reckon they'd have seen a red-faced trooper before!' He clapped the fez on Pascoe's head and draped the neckcloth carefully to hide as much of his face as possible.
Pascoe picked up the musket and checked it. Fortunately it was a new one, probably French.
'I’m ready.'
Allday dragged the corpse aside and covered it with a piece of canvas.
'Good. Now just loop some cord round my wrists behind my back. This has got to look right an' proper.' He grinned. 'Not too tight, mind.'
They looked at each other in silence.
Then Pascoe said, 'If they take me alive… '
Allday shook his head. 'They won’t. Me neither.' Outside the tent it seemed almost cool, the deep shadows of tents and earthworks unreal and menacing.
Allday wondered what the guards did with the slaves and prisoners during the night. All being well they would get a rude awakening wherever they were.
It was all so easy. They walked quickly down the slope from the officers' tents and onto a rough, partly completed track which Allday guessed led towards the new pier. Dying embers from a fire glowed redly by an unlimbered wagon, and between the big wheels he could see several sleeping figures.
He heard Pascoe's footsteps close behind him, the regular tapping of his musket against his hip as he carried it
