WHEN we two parted

anticipation. . . . He stopped abruptly as something hard and metallic pushed into the small of his bacL "Surrender or die!" The drawling, nasal voice was positively cheerful: after what he had been through on the caique and the cliff face, just to set foot on solid ground again was heaven enough for DustyMiller. "Very funny," Mallory growled. "Very funny indeed." He looked curiously at Miller. The American had removed his oilskin capethe rain had ceased as abruptly as it had cometo reveal a jacket and braided waistcoat even more sodden and saturated than his trousers. It didn't make sense. But there was no time for questions. "Did you hear the phone ringing just now?" he asked. "Was that what it was? Yeah, I heard it. "The sentry's phone. His hourly report, or whatever it was, must have been overdue. We didn't answer it. They'll be hot-footing along any minute now, suspicious as hell and looking for trouble. Maybe your side, maybe Brown's. Can't approach any other way unless they break their necks climbing over these boulders." Mallory gestured at the shapeless jumble of rocks behind them. "So keep your eyes skinned." "I'll do that, boss. No shootin', huh?" "No shooting. Just get back as quickly and quietly as you can and let us know. Come back in five minutes anyway." Mallory hurried away, retracing., his steps. Andrea was stretched full length on the cliff-top, peering over the edge. He twisted his head round as Mallory approached. "I can hear him. He's just at the overhang." "Good." Mallory moved on without breaking step. "Tell him to hurry, please." Ten yards farther on Mallory checked, peered into the gloom ahead. Somebody was coming along the clifftop at a dead run, stumbling and slipping on the loose gravelly soil. "Brown?" Mallory called softly. "Yes, sir. It's me." Brown was up to him now, breathing heavily, pointing back in the direction he had just come. "Somebody's coming, and coming fast! Torches waving and jumping all over the placemust be running." "How many?" Mallory asked quickly. "Four or five at least." Brown was still gasping for breath. "Maybe morefour or five torches, anyway. You can see them for yourself." Again he pointed backwards, then blinked in canon eti digital camera puzzlement. "That's bloody funny! They're all gone." He turned back swiftly to Mallory. "But I can swear" "Don't worry," Mallory said grimly. "You saw them all right. rye been expecting visitors. They're getting close now and taking no chances. . . . How far away?" "Hundred yardsnot more than a hundred and fifty." "Go and get Miller. Tell him to get back here fast." Mallory ran back along the cliff edge and knelt beside the huge length of Andrea. "They're coming, Andrea," he said quickly. "From the left. At least five, probably more. Two minutes at the most. Where's Stevens? Can you see him?" "I can see him." Andrea was magnificently unperturbed. "He is just past the overhang . . ." The rest of his words were lost, drowned in a sudden, violent thunderclap, but there was no need for more. Mallory could see Stevens now, climbing up the rope, strangely old and enfeebled in action, hand over hand in paralysing slowness, half-way now between the overhang and the foot of the chimney. "Good God!" Mallory swore. "What's the matter with him? He's going to take all day . . ." He checked himself, cupped his hands to his mouth. "Stevens! Stevens!" But there was no sign that Stevens had heard. He still kept climbing with the same unnatural over-deliberation, a robot in slow motion. "He is very near the end," Andrea said quietly. "You see he does not even lift his head. When a climber does not lift his head, he is finished." He stirred. "I will go down for him." "No." Mallory's hand was on his shoulder. "Stay here. I can't risk you both. . . . Yes, what is it." He was aware that Brown was back, bending over him, his breath coming in great heaving gasps. "Hurry, sir; hurry, for God's sake!" A few brief words but he had to suck in two huge gulps of air to get them out. "They're on top of us!" "Get back to the rocks with Miller," Mallory said urgently. "Cover us. . . . Stevens! Stevens!" But again the wind swept up the face of the cliff, carried his words away. "Stevens! For God's sake, man! Stevens!" His voice was low-pitched, desperate, but this time some quality in it must have reached through Stevens' fog of exhaustion and touched his consciousness, for he stopped climbing and lifted his head, hand cupped to his ear. "Some Germans coming!" Mallory called through funnelled hands, as loudly as he