‘No thanks. You look after your inheritance, I’ll look after mine.’

Now MacConnachie laughed. Then he reassembled the gun, tested its action, and stood up.

‘I’ll take the lead with the suitcase and gun. You bring the canteen.’

‘Right.’

‘We go as far as we can. An hour before dawn, we rest.’

‘Amen.’

‘It won’t hit us properly till the day after tomorrow.’

‘I like to have something to look forward to.’

They marched steadily throughout the remainder of the night, sometimes climbing, sometimes descending, the one by no means easier than the other. From time to time they swopped suitcase for canteen, but these periods grew longer for MacConnachie, mostly in charge of the suitcase, and shorter for Ansell, who seemed most often to carry the canteen. If they had anything in their favour, it lay in the fact that they were still making their initial outlay of strength. From the morning, when they would be forced to make a second start, there would follow a period of adjustment to their new condition which would be physically painful and psychologically difficult. On top of this, they would have to combat the effects of an imprisonment which had involved, besides the customary severe confinement, a deliberate policy of physical debilitation, the aim of which had been to render them, through the deprivation of food, sleep, sanitation and elementary comfort, fit subjects for re-education. MacConnachie had been right to suppose that they must escape quickly, or not at all.

Fortunately, on this first night, the hills proved soft, and they concentrated simply on maintaining a dull, steady rhythm. At length they reached a height from which, in MacConnachie’s estimation, they would have a reasonable view to front and flanks, and here they rested. MacConnachie was asleep before Ansell.

MacConnachie came awake quickly as dawn was on the point of breaking, and watched the sun come up. Until the daylight had moved into the low ground, he remained absolutely still, examining every inch of the unfolding landscape. He saw no one, nor did he expect to. Only later would the search begin, and when it did it would be a full-scale operation, involving every device and unit that the Goons could deploy. He and Ansell had killed a guard; they were therefore ‘armed and dangerous’. They had an hour’s grace and must make full use of it.

Ahead, there was a narrow depression rising to a gentle slope that extended all the way to the crest of the highest feature they had yet faced. To flanks and rear, the foot-hills lay back in mild undulation to the river. Once satisfied that they could not easily be approached from any direction, he woke Ansell.

‘We’ll just eat fruit this morning; we had a good meal in the hut last night and I want to save the tins.’

‘Okay.’

‘First we shave, then we check our gear, then we go.’

‘Right.’

While Ansell undressed, munching an apple, MacConnachie stropped the razor against his boot. Each in turn then shaved off his own body hair with the dry razor. As they did so, they talked.