Truslow reappeared on the back platform with the guard’s discarded pistol and a tin mug of coffee. He checked that the gun was loaded then drained the coffee before jumping down to the track. “Right. Now we go and search the passenger cars.”

“Shouldn’t we leave?” Starbuck suggested.

“Leave?” Truslow frowned. “Why the hell would we want to leave? We just got the son of a bitch train stopped.”

“The Colonel wants us to go. He’s ready to blow the bridge.”

“The Colonel can wait,” Truslow said, then gestured Starbuck toward the passenger cars. “We’ll start with the last car. If any bastard gives us trouble, shoot him. If any women or kids start screaming, slap them down fast. Passengers are like hens. Once you get ’em flustered they’re noisy as hell, but treat ’em tough and they’ll stay nice and quiet. And don’t take any big stuff, because we’ve got to ride fast. Money, jewelry and watches, that’s what we’re after.”

Starbuck stood stock still. “You’re not robbing the passengers!” He was genuinely shocked at the thought. It was one thing to stride down the train like a free-booter under the gaze of awestruck passengers, but quite another to break the Sixth Commandment. The worst beatings Starbuck had ever taken had been as punishments for theft. When he was four he had helped himself to some almonds from a jar in the kitchen, and two years later he had taken a toy wooden boat from his elder brother’s toy chest, and both times the Reverend Elial had drawn blood for a recompense. From that day until Dominique had persuaded him to take Major Trabell’s money, Starbuck had been terrified of theft, and the consequences of helping Dominique had only reinforced his childhood lessons that thieving was a terrible crime which God would surely punish. “You can’t steal,” he told Truslow. “You can’t.”

“You expect me to buy their belongings off them?” Truslow asked mockingly. “Now come on, don’t lag.”

“I’m not helping you steal!” Starbuck stood his ground. He had sinned so much in these last weeks. He had committed the sin of lust, he had drunk ardent spirits, he had made a wager, he had failed to honor his father and mother and he had failed to keep the Sabbath Day holy, but he would not become a thief. He had only helped Dominique steal because she had persuaded him that the money was owed to her, but he would not help Truslow steal from innocent train passengers. So much of sin seemed nebulous and hard to avoid, but theft was an absolute and undeniable sin, and Starbuck would not risk the slippery path to hell by adding that transgression to his woefully long list of wrongdoings.