He said, “It’s all right. They’re over the other side now. Come on, Bryan!”

They continued up the hillside until Allday found a sheltered clump of bushes which jutted from a great fallen slide of rock. He threw himself down and stared out at the great empty waste of water.

“We’ll be safe here, Bryan. When the ship puts to sea we’ll build a shelter like I had outside Falmouth. Don’t worry about it.”

Ferguson was still standing, his eyes wide as he peered down at his friend. “Onslow intends to take the ship!” His mouth quivered. “He told me. He knew I couldn’t do anything. He said that I was as guilty as the rest of them!”

Allday tried to grin. “You’re tired!” He tried again. “Look, how can Onslow seize a frigate?” His grin faded into a look of shocked horror as the true implication dawned on him. He jumped to his feet and seized Ferguson’s arm. “Do you mean Onslow planned all of this? The fresh water, the murder, and my escape?” He did not wait for a reply. The expression on the other man’s face was enough.

He gave a hollow groan. “My God, Bryan! What are we going to do?”

Ferguson said weakly, “I wanted to tell you. But there was no time! They’d have killed you anyway.”

Allday nodded heavily. “I know, Bryan. I know.” He stared at the ground. “I warned them about this.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Mutiny! I’ll have no part of it!” He looked at Ferguson with sudden determination. “We must go back and warn them.”

“It’ll be too late!” Ferguson clasped his hands together. “Anyway, I couldn’t go! Don’t you see? I’m one of them now!” Tears began to pour down his face. “I couldn’t take the lash, John! Please, I couldn’t!”

Allday turned his back to hide his face from the other man. He stared out to sea, at the hard horizon line which seemed to represent the impossibility of distance. You poor little bugger, he thought. It must have cost a lot of pluck to knock down the sentry and open the cell. Over his shoulder he said calmly, “I know, Bryan. But give me time to think things out.”

So it was all wasted after all. The determination to take life as it came, to accept danger and hardship in order that he should one day return home, had all come to nothing. It was curious that Ferguson, the one man aboard who had the most to lose, had been the one to spring off the disaster of mutiny.

And disaster it would be, he told himself grimly. They never gave up a search for a mutineer. No matter how long it took. He remembered seeing some of them hanging in chains at Plymouth. Rotting, eyeless remnants left to the gulls as a warning to others.

Far out on the flat, glittering water something moved to break the calm emptiness of the horizon. Allday dropped on one knee and shaded his eyes with both hands. He blinked to clear the moisture and then looked again. Months at sea as a masthead lookout had given him the sailor’s instinct to interpret more than was merely visible to the naked eye. He turned his head slightly. There was another one. Much smaller. Probably a mile beyond the first.