He said, “I’ve not had time to thank you, Bryan. That was a rash thing you did!”

Ferguson rolled on to his side and stared at him with glazed eyes. “Had to do it. Had to.”

“It’s your neck as well as mine now, Bryan.” Allday studied him sadly. “But at least we’re free. There’s always hope when you have your freedom!”

He had been lying in his darkened cell listening to the familiar sounds of boats filling with men and pushing off from the frigate’s hull. Then, as the emptied ship had fallen into silence, there had been a cry of alarm and the thud of a body falling against the door.

Ferguson had wrenched it open, his mouth slack with fear, his fingers trembling as he had unlocked the shackles and gabbled out some vague ideas of escape.

The dawn was still a dull smudge in the sky as they had slipped quietly over the side into the cool water. Like many sailors Allday could hardly swim a stroke, but Ferguson, driven by the desperation of fear, had helped him, until choking and gasping they had both staggered on to the safety of the beach.

Hardly speaking they had run or crawled through dense brush, had climbed over fallen rocks, never pausing to either look back or listen. Now they were between two low hills, and exhaustion had pulled them both to a halt.

Allday said, “Come on, we’d better get ourselves moving again. Up this hill. We’ll be safe there. You should be able to see miles from the top.”

Ferguson was still staring at him. “You were right about Onslow. He is a bad man!” He shuddered. “I thought he was just trying to be friendly to me. I told him things about the captain’s log. About what the ship was doing!” He staggered to his feet and followed Allday slowly up the side of the hill. “No one will believe me now. I’m as guilty as he is!”

“At least you know I didn’t kill the purser!” Allday squinted up at the sun. It would soon be time to stop and hide.

“Onslow boasted about it!” Ferguson gave another shudder. “After you had been taken to the cells I overheard him talking with some of the others, Pook and Pochin. He boasted how he had killed Evans!”

Allday pulled him into a bush. “Look!” He pointed across to a distant hillside at a slow-moving line of red dots. “The bullocks are out looking for us already.”

Ferguson gave a low cry. “I’ll never get back home! I’ll never see Grace again!”

Allday looked at him gravely. “Hold on, Bryan! We’re not finished yet. Maybe another ship will call here one day, and we’ll pretend we’re shipwrecked.”

He turned to watch the distant marines as they moved away to the right. Marines in their heavy boots and equipment were no match for this sort of game, he thought. Even on a bare Cornish hillside he could have evaded them. Here it was easier, because of the heavy tangle of scrub all around them.