“Come in, Mr Prew,” the leader rapped out in a militaristic tone of voice. Whether as command or invitation it was unnecessary, for Mr Prew tripped over one of the ropes at the moment it was uttered and dived into the tent with such velocity that he might have dived right through it if the occupier had not been sitting cross-legged in the way.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Buckham. I don’t know how I came to do that. I must have tripped, I think.”

“I think so too,” the leader said sarcastically. “Well, before you turn in I want you to get at any rate the rough outline of my plan of action.”

“The rough outline? Quite. The details of course can be elaborated later.”

“Quite,” Mr Buckham agreed.

“Quite,” Mr Prew echoed.

“Have you your map with you?”

“I have, yes. At least I think I have. Ah yes, I have.”

“Your elbow went into my eye then, Mr Prew.”

“I am so sorry.”

“All right. I’ll get my own map out.”

It was now Mr Buckham’s turn to excavate the hip-pocket of his shorts, but when he and his Chief of Staff tried simultaneously to open their maps the stability of the tent was threatened, and in the end they had to sit cross-legged side by side and study the same map like two pre-Atatürk Turks poring over the Koran.

“This is roughly where we are now,” said Mr. Buckham, obliterating Ben Booey with that thumb which always delighted palmists by an almost morbid display of the characteristics associated with self-will.

“Quite.”

“The present concentration is fifty-two—thirty-six men and sixteen women. I understand we may expect another twenty-nine, of which seventeen are men, on Saturday and Sunday. Next week therefore will see us at our maximum strength, and I propose to make my attempt to seize and occupy Glenbogle Castle on Tuesday, September 7th. Meanwhile, harassing operations over a wide extent of country will be carried on throughout this week by the force at my disposal, for which purpose it will be broken up into six columns each consisting of six men and two women.”

“But that leaves four women unaccounted for.”

“They will be used as a mobile reserve. La donna è mobile,” Mr Buckham hummed.

“Quite,” said Mr Prew, wondering what on earth his commander-in-chief was talking about. “And these harassing operations, what will they entail?”