"Good master, you are wet to the skin:"

geology, completed the B.Sc. course that had been interrupted by the outbreak of World War Two and taken to wandering wherever work, new surroundings and an opportunity to forget the past had presented themselves. Why, when I gazed down at that small dark head pressed so deeply into the fur of my coat, I should have felt my heart turn over I didn't know. For all her wonderful brown eyes she had no pretensions to beauty and I knew nothing whatsoever about her. Perhaps it was just a natural reaction from my earlier antipathy: perhaps it was pity for her loss, for what I had so cruelly done to her, for having so exposed her to dangerwhoever knew that I knew too much would soon know that she knew it also: or perhaps it was just because she was so defenceless and vulnerable, so ridiculously small and lost in Joss's big parka. And then I caught myself trying to work out the reasons and I gave it up: I hadn't been married long, but long enough to know that the heart has its own reasons which even the acutest mind couldn't begin to suspect. By and by the sobbing subsided and she straightened, hiding from me what must have been a very badly tear-stained face. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "And thank you very much." "My crying shoulder." I patted it with my right hand. "For my friends. The other one's for my patients." "For that, too, but I didn't mean that. Just for not saying how sorry you were for me, or patting me or saying 'Now, now' or anything like that. I -1 couldn't have stood it." She finished wiping her face with the palm of her mitten, looked up at me with brown eyes still swimming in tears and I felt my heart turn over again. "Where do we go from here, Dr Mason?" "Back to the cabin." "I didn't mean that." "I know. What am I to say? I'm completely at a loss. A hundred questions, and never an answer to one of them." "And I don't even know all the questions, yet," she murmured. "It's only five minutes since I even knew that it wasn't an accident." She shook her head incredulously. "Who ever heard of a civilian airliner being forced down at pistol point?" "I did. On the radio, just over a month ago. In Cubasome of Fidel Castro's rebels forced a Viscount to crash land. Only they picked an even worse spot than this -1 think there were only one or two survivors. Maybe that's where our friends back in the cabin got the idea from. I shouldn't be surprised." She cannon s2 is digital camera wasn't even listening, her mind was already off on another track. "Whywhy did they kill Colonel Harrison?" I shrugged. "Maybe he had a high resistance to Mickey Finns. Maybe he saw too much, or knew too much. Or both." "Butbut now they know you've seen too much and know too much." I wished she wouldn't look at me when she was talking, these eyes would have made even the Rev. Smallwood forget himself in the middle of his most thundering denunciationsnot that I could imagine Mr Smallwood going in for thundering denunciations very much. "A disquieting thought," I admitted, "and one that has occurred to me several times during the past half-hour. About five hundred times, I would say." "Oh, stop it! You're probably as scared as I am." She shivered. "Let's get out of here, please. It'sit's ghastly, it's horrible. Whatwhat was that?" Her voice finished on a sharp high note. "What was what?" I tried to speak calmly, but that didn't stop me from glancing around nervously. Maybe she was right, maybe I was as scared as she was. "A noise outside." Her voice was a whisper and her fingers were digging deep into the fur of my parka. "Like someone tapping the wing or the fuselage." "Nonsense." My voice was rough, but I was on razor-edge. "You're beginning to" I stopped in mid-sentence. This time I could have sworn I had heard something, and it was plain that Margaret Ross had too. She twisted her head over her shoulder, looking in the direction of the noise, then slowly turned back to me, her face tense, her eyes wide and staring. I pushed her hands away, reached for gun and torch, jumped up and started running. In the control cabin I checked abruptly -God, what a fool I'd been to leave that searchlight burning and lined up on the windscreens, blinding me with its glare, making me a perfect target for anyone crouching outside with a gun in handbut the hesitation was momentary only. It was then or neverI could be trapped in there all night, or until the searchlight battery died. I dived head first through the windscreen, caught a pillar at the very last moment and was lying flat on the ground below in less time than I would have believed possible. I waited five seconds, just listening, but all I could hear was the moan of the