of her shift. She found the horn-handled clasp knife in the pouch she wore strapped round her waist and handed it to him without a word. He stared at it in astonishment, then burst out laughing as he recognized it.
'I withdraw everything I said about you. You look like a Viking maid and, by Jesus, you act like one too.'
'Watch your blaspheming tongue, Jim Courtney,' she said, but there was no fire in the rebuke. She was too tired to argue further, and the compliment had been a pretty one. As she turned away her head there was a weary half smile on her lips. Jim led Drumfire into the trees, and she followed them. After a few hundred paces, in a spot where the forest was thickest, he tethered the stallion and told Louisa, 'Now you can rest a while.'
This time she did not protest but sank down on the thick leaf mould on the forest floor, curled up, closed her eyes. In her weakened state she felt that she might never have the strength to stand up again. Hardly had the thought flashed through her mind than she was asleep.
Jim wasted a few moments admiring her suddenly serene features. Until then he had not realized how young she was. Now she looked like a sleeping child. While he watched her he opened the blade of the knife and tested the point on the ball of his thumb. At last he tore himself away, and ran back to the edge of the forest. Keeping well hidden he peered out across the darkening salt pan. Keyser was still coming on doggedly, leading the mare.
Will he never give up? Jim wondered, and felt a twinge of admiration for him. Then he looked around for the best place to hide beside the tracks that Drumfire had left. He picked a patch of dense bush, crept into it and squatted there with the knife in his hand.
Keyser reached the edge of the pan, and staggered out on to the firm footing. By this time it was so dark that, although Jim could hear him panting for breath, he was just a dark shape. He came on slowly, leading the mare, and Jim let him pass his hiding-place. Then he slipped out of the bush and crept up behind him. Any sound he might have made was covered by the hoof-falls of the mare. From behind he locked his left arm around Keyset's throat and, at the same time, pressed the point of the knife into the soft skin under his ear. 'I will kill you if you force me to it,' he snarled, making his tone ferocious.
Keyser froze with shock. Then he regained his own voice. 'You can't
hope to get away with this, Courtney. There is no place for you to run. Give me the woman, and I will settle things with your father and Governor van de Witten.'
Jim reached down and drew the sabre from the scabbard on the colonel's belt. Then he released his lock around the man's throat and stepped back, but he held the point of the sabre to Keyser's chest. Take off your clothes,' he ordered.
'You are young and stupid, Courtney,' Keyser replied coldly. 'I will try to make allowances for that.'
'Tunic first,' Jim ordered. 'Then breeches and boots.'
Keyser did not move. Jim pricked his chest, and at last, reluctantly, the colonel reached up and began to unbutton his tunic.
'What do you hope to achieve?' he asked, as he shrugged out of it. 'Is this some boyish notion of chivalry? The woman is a convicted felon. She is probably a whore and a murderess.'
'Say that again, Colonel, and I will spit you like a sucking pig.' This time Jim drew blood with the point. Keyser sat down to pull off his boots and his breeches. Jim stuffed them into Trueheart's saddlebags. Then, with the point of the sabre at the man's back, he escorted Keyser, barefoot and wearing only his undershirt, to the edge of the salt pan.
'Follow your own tracks, Colonel,' he told him, 'and you should be back at the castle in time for breakfast.'
'Listen to me, jon gen Keyser said, in a thin tight voice. 'I will come after you. I will see you hanged on the parade, and I promise you it will be slow very slow.'
'If you stand here talking, Colonel, you're going to miss your breakfast.' Jim smiled at him. 'You had far better start walking.'
He watched Keyser trudge away across the salt pan. Suddenly the heavy clouds were stripped away by the wind and the full moon burst through to light the pale surface as though it were day. It was bright enough to throw a shadow at Keyser's feet. Jim watched him until he was only a dark blob in the distance, and knew that he was not coming back. Not tonight, at least. But it's not the last we've seen of the gallant colonel, he thought, we can be sure of that. Then he ran back to Trueheart, and led her into the forest. He shook Louisa awake. 'Wake up, Hedgehog. We have a long journey ahead of us,' he told her. 'And by this time tomorrow we are going to have Keyser and a squadron of cavalry in full cry after us.'
When she sat up groggily he went to Trueheart. A rolled woollen cavalry cloak was strapped on top of Keyser's saddlebags.
'It will be cold when we get into the mountains,' he warned her. She was still half asleep and did not protest as he wrapped the cloak round
her shoulders. Then he found the colonel's food bag. It held a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, a few apples and a flask of wine. The colonel dearly loves his food.' He tossed her an apple and she wolfed it down core and all.
'Sweeter than honey,' she said, through a mouthful. 'I never tasted anything like it before.'
'Greedy little Hedgehog,' he teased her and this time she gave him an urchin smile. Most people found it hard to be angry with Jim for long. He squatted on his haunches in front of her and, with the clasp knife, cut a hunk of bread and slapped a thick slice of cheese on top of it. She ate with ferocious intensity. He watched her pale face in the moonlight. She looked like a pixie.
'And you?' she asked. 'Aren't you eating?' He shook his head. He had decided that there would not be enough for both of them: this girl was starving.
'How did you learn to speak such good English?'
'My mother came from Devon.'
'My oath! That's where we're from. My great-great-grandfather was a duke, or something of that ilk.'
'So, shall I call you Duke?'
'That will do until I think of something better, Hedgehog.' She took another bite of bread and cheese so she could not reply. While she ate he sorted through the rest of Keyser's possessions. He tried on the gold frogged tunic, and held the lapels together.
'Space for two of us in here, but it's warm.' The front flaps of the colonel's breeches went half-way again round Jim's middle but he belted them with one of the straps from the saddlebags. Then he tried the boots. 'At least these are a good fit.'
'In London I saw a play called The Tin Soldier,' she said. 'That's who you look like now.'
'You were in London?' Despite himself he was impressed. London was the centre of the world. 'You must tell me about it as soon as we have an opportunity.'
Then he led the horses to the well on the edge of the pan where the cattle were watered. He and Mansur had dug it themselves two years ago. The water in it was sweet, and the horses drank thirstily. When he led them back he found Louisa had fallen asleep again under the cloak. He squatted beside her and studied her face in the moonlight, and there was a strange hollow feeling under his ribs. He left her to sleep a little longer and went to feed the horses from the colonel's grain bag.
Then he selected what he needed from Keyser's equipment. The pistol was a lovely weapon, and tucked into the leather holster was a
small canvas roll that contained the ramrod and all the accessories. The sabre was of the finest steel. In the tunic he found a gold watch and a purse filled with silver guilders and a few gold ducats. In the back pocket there was a small brass box that contained a flint and steel, and cotton kindling.
'If I steal his horse I might as well take the money too,' he told himself. However, he drew the line at filching Keyset's more personal possessions, so he placed the gold watch and the medals in one of the saddlebags, and left it lying conspicuously in the centre of the clearing. He knew that Keyser would return here tomorrow with his Bushman trackers, and would find his personal treasures. 'I wonder how grateful he will be for my generosity?' He smiled bleakly. He was carried along by a sense of reckless inevitability. He knew that there was no turning back. He was committed. He went to resaddle Trueheart, then squatted beside Louisa. She was curled into a ball under the cloak. He stroked her hair to wake her gently.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. 'Don't touch me like that,' she whispered. 'Don't ever touch me like that again.'
Her voice was filled with such bitter loathing that he recoiled. Years ago Jim had captured a wild-cat kitten. Despite all his loving patience he had never been able to tame the creature. It snarled and bit and scratched. In the end he had taken it out into the veld and set it free. Perhaps this girl was like that. 'I had to wake you,' he said. 'We must go on.' She stood up immediately.
'Take the mare,' he said. 'She has a soft mouth and a gentle nature, yet she is fast as the wind. Her name is Trueheart.' He boosted her into the saddle, and she took the reins and wrapped the cloak tightly around her shoulders. He handed her the last of the bread and cheese. 'You can eat as we go.' She ate as though she were still famished, and he wondered what terrible privations she had been forced to endure that had turned her into this starved, abused wild creature. He felt a fleeting doubt at his own ability to help or redeem her. He thrust it aside and smiled at her in what he imagined was a placatory way,
