from Pirrie and so could be founded only on an utterly cynical realism.

'Well,' he said at last, 'that tells me something about how you would act in my place, doesn't it?'

Pirrie smiled. Arm said: 'What's the matter?'

John heard David's voice calling him in the distance: 'John!' 'Nothing,' he said. 'Never mind, Arm. You stay here. It won't take me long to fix things with David.'

He had half expected the gate in the fence to open as he approached, but he realised that caution - possibly excessive but on the whole justified - might prevent this until John's status, and the status of the troop that accompanied him, had been settled. He stood under the fence, still blind to whatever was happening on the other side of it, and said: 'Dave! That you?'

He heard David's voice: 'Yes, of course - open it.

How the devil is he going to get in if you don't?'

He saw the muzzle of the gun waggle as the gate beneath it opened slightly. No chances were being taken.

He squeezed through the gap, and saw David waiting for him. They took each others' hands. The gate closed behind him.

'How did you make it?' David asked. 'Where's Davey - and Arm and Mary?'

'Back there. Hiding in a ditch. Your machine-gunner damn near killed us all.'

David stared at him. 'T can't believe it! I told the people at the gate to look out for you, but I never believed you would get here. The news of the ban on travel . . . and then the rioting and rumours of bombing...

I'd given you up.'

'It's a long story,' John said. 'It can wait. Can I bring my lot in first?'

'Your lot? You mean. .. ? They told me there was a mob on the road.'

John nodded. 'A mob. Thirty-four of them, ten being