After a few minutes, Lockhart was finding the going tough—very tough. Although the hill was not that steep, its incline was trebled by Marston’s weight.

“Would you like me to take over now, sir?” Allan asked.

“No,” gasped Lockhart, “I can manage.”

When the woods were a hundred yards away, Lockhart felt ready to collapse. Allan had once more asked to take over, but he was again refused. Lockhart felt his arms shaking as they started to buckle, and his calves felt tighter and tighter with every step. He was taking huge gulps of air, getting as much oxygen to his muscles as possible, and almost felt ready to pass out.

“Do you want me to get down, sir?” asked Marston.

“No…bloody…way,” panted Lockhart; the woods were only fifty yards away.

Marston’s request gave him extra vigor, and he even managed to run-cum-stumble a little quicker than he had done over the previous few hundred yards. By the time he reached the woods, his legs and arms were in agony, but he made sure he put Marston down gently, not wishing to cause his knee any further damage.

“Well done, sir,” said Hull. “That looked bloody hard—I don’t think I could have done it.”

“Of course you could, Hull,” Lockhart panted. “You could have carried him up one-handed. Right, let’s carry on. Allan—it’s your turn. Changeover point is the clearing, the one with the old summerhouse.”

They reached the clearing ten minutes later, although Allan, despite Lockhart’s exhortations, had had to hand Marston over to Andreae before they got there. Lockhart didn’t mind too much—it emphasized to the men how impressive it had been getting Marston up the hill.

“Right, let’s stop here!” Lockhart ordered.

“Stop, sir?” asked Catchpole. “But normally we—”

“I know, but I’m feeling generous, and besides, I’ve got something to say to you all. Sit down, sit down.”

The men did so, crumpling gratefully onto the ground. Lockhart remained standing, and let himself catch his breath, taking time to compose himself. He studied the men’s faces. Some of them were looking up at him, their expressions curious; others were staring down at the ground between their legs. Malcolm was even stripping the bark off a stick, something that Lockhart remembered doing at prep school as he sat on the ground listening to a master prattle on about the rules of cricket. Schoolboys, that was what they were, he thought, just a bunch of schoolboys.