no sign of the dawn.
There they are!' Ahead they saw the gleam of a lantern, and the dark shape of a wagon beside the lesser bulk of the capsized cart. They urged the horses to the top of their speed. As they came up Sarah stepped into the road, holding up the lantern, with Yasmini beside her.
'You are just in time to be too late, husband of mine.' Sarah laughed. 'Everything is safely repacked on board the wagon.'
At that moment Tom saw the driver behind her brandish his long whip, flicking out the lash to fire it over the backs of the oxen. 'Stay
your hand, Henny, you damned fool. They will hear your whiplash down in the castle. You will bring the colonel and all his men upon us like a pride of lions!'
Guiltily Henny lowered the great whip, and instead he and his voorloper ran alongside the oxen slapping their rumps and urging them to pull away. The wagon began lumbering along towards the start of the dunes. The harpsichord swayed and rocked on top of the load. Tom spared it one bitter glance. 'May it fall and burst into a thousand pieces!' he grumbled.
'I choose to ignore that remark,' Sarah said primly, 'for I know you did not mean it.'
'Come up behind me, my sweeting.' Tom leaned out of the saddle to lift her up. 'I shall whisk you back to the beach and have you on board before you can blink an eye.'
'I thank you, no, my own true heart. I prefer to stay with the wagon, to see that no further mishaps befall my baggage.' In frustration Tom slapped the lead ox across its rump with the heavy sword scabbard.
They reached the first slope of the dunes and Tom looked back, and felt the first flare of alarm. There were lights showing around the homestead, which only minutes before had been in complete darkness.
'Look at that, brother,' he muttered to Dorian, keeping his voice low. 'What do you make of it?'
Dorian turned in the saddle. 'Mounted men carrying lighted torches,' Dorian exclaimed. 'They are coming up the hill from the direction of the colony. A large troop, riding in column. They must be cavalry.'
'Keyser!' Tom agreed. 'Stephanus Keyser! It can be no other. Somehow he has got wind of what we are about.'
'When he finds that we have left the homestead, he will come straight on to the landing on the shore.'
'He will catch us before we can load this baggage into the boats,' Tom agreed. 'We must abandon the wagon, and run for the beach.'
He spurred back to where Sarah and Yasmini were walking alongside the span of oxen. They had cut sticks from the side of the road and were helping to drive the span onwards.
'Douse that lantern. Keyser has come,' Tom shouted at Sarah and pointed back. 'He will be after us in no time at all.'
'Leave the wagon. We must run.' Dorian was at Tom's side.
Sarah cupped her hand around the glass chimney of the lantern, blew out the flame. Then she turned on her husband. 'You cannot be sure it is Keyser,' she challenged him.
Who else would be leading a troop of cavalry to High Weald at this time of the night?'
'He will not know that we are heading for the beach.'
'He may be fat, but that does not make him blind or stupid. Of course he will come after us.'
Sarah looked ahead. 'It's not far now. We can reach the shore before him.'
'A loaded ox-wagon against a troop of cavalry? Don't be daft, woman.'
'Then you must think of something,' she said, with simple faith. 'You always do.'
'Yes, I have already thought of something. Get up behind me, and we will run as though the devil is breathing fire down our necks.'
'Which he is!' said Dorian, and then to Yasmini, 'Come, my darling, let us go at once.'
'You may go, Yassie,' Sarah said, 'but I am staying.'
'I cannot leave you, Sarah, we have been together too long. I will stay with you,' said Yasmini, and moved closer to her side. They presented the men with an unassailable front. Tom hesitated just a moment longer. Then he turned back to Dorian.
'If I have learned nothing else in my life, this I know. They will not be moved.' He drew one of the pistols from its holster on the pommel of his saddle. 'Look to your priming, Dorry.' He turned back to Sarah and told her sternly, 'You will get us all killed. Perhaps then you will be satisfied. Make all haste. When you reach the beach Mansur will be waiting with the lighter. Have it loaded and ready to shove off. When next you see us Dorry and I might be in somewhat of a hurry.' He was about to ride off when a sudden thought occurred to him. He leaned over and lifted the spare trek chain from its bracket at the back end of the wagon. Every wagon carried this piece of equipment: it was there for use when the teams had to be double spanned.
'What do you mean to do with that?' Dorian demanded. 'It will weigh down your mount.'
'Perhaps nothing.' Tom lashed the chain to the pommel of his saddle. 'But then again, perhaps a great deal.'
They left their two wives and the wagon after one last exhortation to make for the beach at their best speed, and galloped back up the hill. As they approached, the lights of the torches became brighter and the scene clearer. They reined in at the edge of the paddock, just below the homestead, and walked the horses into the deeper darkness below the outspread branches of the trees. They saw at once that these visitors were uniformed troopers. Many were dismounted and running in and out of the buildings, their sabres drawn, searching the rooms. Tom and Dorian could clearly make out their faces and features.
'There is Keyser,' Dorian exclaimed, 'and, by the beard of the Prophet, that is Susie with him.'
'So she is our Judas!' Tom's tone was grim. 'What possible reason would she have to betray us?'
'Sometimes there is no accounting for the treacherous spite of those we have loved and trusted most,' Dorian replied.
'Keyser won't waste much time searching for us in the homestead,' Tom grunted, as he untied the riempie that secured the heavy trek chain to the front of his saddle. 'Here is what you must do, Dorry.'
Quickly he outlined his plan. Almost as soon as he started talking Dorian had grasped it all.
'The gate above the main kraal,' Dorian agreed.
'When you have done, leave it open,' Tom warned him.
'You do have a hellish mind, brother Tom.' Dorian chuckled. 'At times such as these, I am pleased that I am for you, not against.'
'Go quickly,' Tom said. 'Keyser has already discovered that the stable is empty and the birds have flown.' Tom mixed his metaphors cruelly.
Dorian left Tom under the trees and took the fork of the road that led down to the main cattle stockades above the lagoon. Tom noted that he had the good sense to keep to the verge so that the grass muffled his horse's hoofbeats. He watched until Dorian disappeared into the darkness, then switched his attention to what was happening around the buildings of High Weald.
The troopers had at last abandoned the search and were hurrying back to their horses. On the front stoep of the homestead Susie was cowering in front of Keyser, who was shouting at her. His angry tone carried to where Tom waited, but he was too distant to catch the words.
Perhaps Susie has been stricken by an attack of conscience, Tom thought, and watched Keyser lash the woman across the face with his riding crop. Susie fell to her knees. Keyser struck her again across her shoulders with a full overhead stroke of the whip. Susie screamed shrilly and pointed down the road to the dunes.
The cavalry troopers mounted hastily and fell in behind Keyser as he rode at the head of the column. By the light of the torches they carried, Tom watched them come down towards the paddock. The jingle of the harness and the clatter of the carbines and sabres in the scabbards grew louder. When they were so close that he could hear the breathing of their horses, Tom spurred his own horse out of the darkness into the middle of the road in front of them.
Keyser, you treacherous bag of pig's lard! A curse on your black heart and a pox on your shrivelled genitals!' he shouted. Keyser was so taken aback that he reined in his horse. The troopers behind him bumped
into each other. For a moment there was confusion in the column as the horses milled about.
'You will never take me, Keyser, you great round of cheese! Not on that donkey you call a horse.'
Tom lifted the double-barrelled pistol and aimed as close over the top of the ostrich plumes in Keyser's hat as he dared. Keyser ducked as the ball buzzed past his ear.
Tom spun his horse and sent him racing down the road towards the kraal. Behind him he heard the thud of answering pistol shots, and Keyser's furious bellows: 'Catch that man! After him! Alive if you can, but dead if you must. Either way, I want him!'
The troop of cavalry pounded after Tom. A blast of pellets from a cavalry carbine whirred around him like a covey of partridge rising from cover, and he lay flat on his horse's mane and lashed the loose end of the reins across its neck.
He looked back under his arm to judge the gap between himself and the pursuit, and when he
