She didn’t stay, this was her house after all, but she remained a little distance behind him as she followed him down the hall.

Samuel opened the front door to reveal Major Hank Henry standing on the porch, together with a young lieutenant.

‘Captain Robinson,’ the major barked, ‘you’re needed back at camp.’

‘What’s up?’ Samuel asked, mystified.

Hank’s eyes flickered to Amelia, who remained several paces away down the hall. He was relieved to find the captain at his billet – he hadn’t relished the prospect of searching Townsville’s night spots – but he didn’t need to announce the severity of the situation to the man’s landlady. He lowered his voice.

‘There’s been a riot, Samuel,’ he muttered, ‘in fact, there’s been a goddamned mutiny. The troops at Kelso have armed themselves with machine guns and turned on their white officers.’

‘Good God.’ Samuel stared back at Hank Henry in shocked amazement.

‘We don’t know how many there are, possibly hundreds, but I’m told they’re heading into town by the truckload,’ Hank said. ‘The Australian 51st have set up road blocks to stop them and if they don’t halt peaceably we’ve issued orders “shoot to kill”.’

Samuel continued to stare at the major, stunned by what he was hearing. How had it come to this? He’d expected trouble somewhere along the line, certainly – brawls, insubordination from frustrated, dissatisfied men – but mutiny? Murder? And if the situation was as dire as Hank Henry was saying, what on earth was personally expected of him? Mingled with Samuel’s shock was a sense of bewilderment.

‘The ringleaders appear to be from Company C,’ Hank went on to explain, ‘and one of your NCOs informs us you’re possibly the only officer who might be able to reason with them. From what I hear, I’d say it’s way too late for that myself, but we can’t afford not to give it a chance.’

‘Of course. I’ll get my gear.’ Fired into action, Samuel quickly disappeared to his quarters.

Amelia Sanderson and Hank Henry were left to contemplate each other in silence. Neither made any attempt to speak, although Amelia longed to enquire further. She’d edged just a little closer, trying desperately to hear what was going on, and indeed she’d heard enough to instil in her a deathly fear. The words ‘shoot to kill’ had been more than enough. Captain Robinson was being ordered into what seemed to be a battle zone.

Samuel reappeared in the hall only seconds later, strapping on his belt and holster with a .45 calibre Browning, and as he was about to pass her, she couldn’t help herself.

‘Samuel …’ She placed a hand on his arm, and he halted briefly. ‘Take care,’ she said, ‘please take care.’

‘I will, Amelia.’ He patted her hand, fleetingly but reassuringly, ‘I will, don’t worry yourself,’ and then he was out the door.