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"Stay here," he ordered. "Get your shoes on and be ready to run. I'll be back in a minute." He rolled under the window to the wall, and came to his feet. The bedroom door was unlocked and he darted into the passage. He wasted ten seconds on the telephone J. he knew they would have cut the wires, and that was confirmed immediately by the dead echoless void in the earpiece. He dropped it dangling on the cord and ran through to the kitchens.
Hi There was only one diversion he could think of light.
I!;.
He hit the remote-control switch of the diesel generator, and there was the faint ripple of sound from the engine room across the yard and the overhead bulbs glowed yellow and then flared into full brilliance. He tore open the fuse box above the control-board, tripped out the house-lights, and then switched on the veranda and front garden lights.
h That would leave the back of the house in darkness. They would make their break that way, he decided, and it would have to be quick. The attackers hadn't hit the house yet, but they could only be seconds away.
He ran back out of the kitchen, paused at the door of the lounge, and glanced through it to check the lighting in the front garden and veranda. The lawns were a peculiarly lush green in the artificial light, the jacaranda trees domed over them like the roof of a cathedral. The firing had ceased, but down near the labourers" village a woman was keening, that doleful sound of African mourning- It made his skin creep.
Craig knew that they would be coming up the hill already, and he was turning away to go back to Sally-A
The movement was a ru
Then a more intense shock of horror. Craig realized that it was old Shadrach, and unthinkingly went to help him. He kicked open the french doors of the lounge, went out onto the veranda at a run, and vaulted the low half wall He caught Shadrach in his arms just as he was about to fall, and lifted him off his feet. He was surprised at how light was the old man's body. Craig carried him at a single bound onto the veranda and crouched with him below the low wall.
Shadrach had been hit in the upper arm, just above the elbow. The bone had shattered, and the limb hung by a ribbon of flesh. Shadrach held it to his breast likea nursing infant.
"They are coming," he gasped at Craig. "You must run.
They are killing our people, they will kill you also." It was miraculous that the old man could speak, let alone move and run with such a wound. Crouching below the wall he ripped a strip of cotton from his loincloth with his teeth and started to bind it around his own arm above the wound. Craig pushed his hand away and tied the knot for him.
"You must run, little master," and before Craig could prevent him, the old man rolled to his feet and disappeared into the darkness beyond-4he floodlights.
"He risked his Iifeao warn. me." Craig looked after him for a second, and then roused himself and, doubled over, ran back into the house.
Sally-A
"Good girl." He knelt beside her. "Let's go."
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"Buster," she replied. "My puppy!"
"For God's sake!"
"We can't leave him!" She had that stubborn took that he had already come to know so well.
"I'll carry you if I have to," he warned fiercely, and raising himself quickly he risked a last glance over the window-sill.
The lawns and gardens were still brightly lit. There were the dark shapes of men coming up from the valley, armed men in disciplined extended order. For a moment he could not believe what he was seeing, and then he sagged with relief.
"Oh, thank you, God!" he whispered. He found that reaction had set in already. He felt weak and shivery, and he took Sally' A
"It's all right now," he told her. "It's going to be all right." "What has happened?"
"The security forces have arrived," he said. He had recognized the burgundy-coloured berets and silver cap badges of the men closing in across the lawns. "The Third Brigade is here we will be all right now." They went out onto the front veranda to greet their rescuers, Sally-A
"I am very glad to see you and your men, Sergeant," Craig greeted the noncommissioned officer who led the advancing line of troopers.
"Please go inside." The sergeant made a gesture with his rifle, imperative if, not directly threatening. He was a tall man, with long sinewy limbs, his expression was cold and neutral, and Craig felt his relief shrink. Something was wrong. The line of troopers had closed likea net around the homestead, while skirmishers came forward in pairs, covering each other, the classical tactics of the street fighter , and they went swiftly into the house, breaking through windows and side doors, sweeping the interior.
There was a crash of breaking glass at the rear of the house.