civil war--that's not done any more--but a potential Nobel Prizewinner, a man of

Dawson's stature, is something else

again''
Roseau was silent and twitchy Wyatt let him stew for a few long seconds, then said,
"You know as well as I do that Dawson
told you nothing about Manning and Fuller I know that because he knows nothing, but
you used him to try to throw a
scare into me Now let me tell you something, Sous-Inspector Roseau When Commodore
Brooks asks Serrurier for Dawson,
Serrurier is going to turn St Pierre upside down looking for him because he knows
that if he doesn't find him, then the
Americans will break in the back door and stab him in the back just when he's at
grips with Favel And if Serrurier finds
that Sous-Inspector Roseau has stupidly exceeded his duty by beating Dawson half to
death I wouldn't give two pins, for
your chances of remaining alive for five more minutes My advice to you is to get a
doctor to Dawson as fast as you can, and
then to implore him to keep his mouth shut How you do that is your buisness''
He almost laughed at the expression on Roseau's face as he contemplated the
enormity of his guilt Roseau finally shut us
mouth with a snap and took a deep breath "Take this man to his cell,'' he ordered,
and Wyatt felt a firm grip on his
shoulder, a grip more welcome now than it would have been five minutes earlier
After being thrust into the cell it was a
long time before he stopped shaking Then he sat down to contemplate the sheer,
copper-bottomed brilliance of the idea he
has sold Roseau
He thought that he and dawson were safe from Roseau But there was still the problem
of getting out before the hurricane
struck and that would not be easy--not unless he could manage to work on Roseau's
fears some more He had an idea that
he would be seeing Roseau before long; the Sous-Inspector would remember that Wyatt
had claimed acquaintance with
Serrurier and he would want to know more about that
He looked at his watch It was seven o'clock and the sunlight was streaming through
the small window He hoped that
Causton would have sense enough to get the others out of St Pierre--even by walking
they could get a long way
The noise outside suddenly came to his attention It had been going on ever since he
had been pushed into the cell but he
had been so immersed in his thoughts that it had not penetrated Now he was aware of
the racket hi the square outside--
the revving of heavy engines, the clatter of feet and the murmur of many men
interspersed by raucous shouts--sergeants
have the same brazen-voiced scream in any army; it sounded as though an army was
massing in the sqaure
He lucked the stool across to the window and climbed up, but the angle was wrong
and he could not see the ground at all,
merely the facade of the buildings on the oppossite side of the square He stood
there for a long time trying to make sense of
the confused sounds from below but finally gave up He was just about to step off
the stool when he heard the sudden
bellow of guns from so close that the hot air seemed to quiver
He stood on tiptoe, desperately trying to see what was happening, and caught a
glimpse of a deep red flash on the roof of the
building immediately opposite There was a slam and the front of the building caved
in before his startled eyes, seeming to
collapse in slow motion in a billowing cloud of dust
Then the blast of the explosion caught him and he was hurted in a shower of broken
glass right across the cell to thud
against the door The last thing he heard before he collapsed into unconsciousness
was the thump of his head against the
solid wood
Four
The drumfire of the guns jerked Causton from a deep sleep He started violently and
opened his eyes, wondering for a
moment where he was and relieved to find the familiarity of his own room at the
Imperiale Eumenides, to whom he had
offered a bed, was standing at the window looking out
Causton sat up in bed "God's teeth'' he said, "those guns are near Favel must have
broken through "He scrambled out of
bed and was momentarily disconcerted to find he was still wearing his trouser
Eumenides drew back from the window and looked at Causton moodily "They will fight
in town,'' he said "Will be ver'
bad''
"It usually is,'' said Causton, rubbing the stubble on his cheeks "What's happening
down there?''
"Many peoples--soldiers,'' said Eumenides "Many 'urt''
"Walking wounded? Serrurier must be in full retreat But he'll do his damnedest to
hold the town This is where the
frightful part comes in-the street fighting'' He wound up a clockwork dry shaver
with quick efficient movements
"Serrurier's police have been holding the population down; that was wise of him--he
didn't want streams of refuges
impeding his army But whether they'll be able to do it in the middle of a battle is
another thing I have the feeling this is
going to be a nasty day''
The Greek lit another cigarette and said nothing
Causton finished his shave in silence His mind was busy with the implications of
the nearness of the gun Favel must
have smashed Serrurier's army in the Negrito and pushed on with all speed to the
outskirts of St Pierre Moving so fast, he
must have neglected mopping-up operations and there were probably bits of
Serrurier's army scattered in pockets all down
the Negrito, they would be disorganized now after groping about in the night, but
with the daylight they might be a
danger--a danger Favel might be content to ignore
For a greater danger confronted him He had burst on to the plain and was hammering
at the door of St Pierre in broad
daylight, and Causton doubted if he was well enough equipped for a slugging match
in those conditions So far, he had
depended on surprise and the sudden hammer blow of unexpected artillery against
troops unused to the violence of high
explosive--but Serrurier had artillery and armour and an air force True, the armour
consisted of three antiquated tanks
and a dozen assorted armoured cars, the air force was patched up from converted
civilian planes and Favel had been able
to laugh at this display of futile modernity when still secure in the mountains But
on the plain it would be a different
matter altogether Even an old tank would be master of the battlefield, and the
planes could see what they were bombing
Causton examined his reflection in the glass and wondered if Favel had moved fast
enough to capture Serrurier's artillery
before it had got into action if he had, he would be the luckiest commander in
history because it had been sheer
inefficiency on the part of the Goverment artillery general that had bogged it down
But luck--good and bad--was an
inescapable element on the field of battle
He plunged his head into cold water, came up spluttering and reached for a towel He
had just finished drying himself
when there was a knock on the door He held up a warming hand to Eumenides "Who's
that?''
" It's me,'' called Julie
He relaxed "come in, Miss Marlowe''
Julie looked a little careworn; there were dark circles under her eyes as though
she had had very little sleep and she was
dishevelled She pushed her hair back, and said, "That woman will drive me nuts''