The fire was extinguished soon after the King reached the spot. There were plenty of buckets, and the beaten rebels, no longer rebellious, worked hard to prove their return to loyalty. They formed a line down to the sea, and the buckets passed quickly from hand to hand. Very little damage was done. But the incendiary had gained all he wanted—a certain amount of time and a clear road up to the King’s house.
But the watchers up at the King’s house also saw the cloud of smoke, and it made them alert again, just when they had come to the conclusion that all was well over and that the King had won.
“Of course it may have been an accident,” said Pryce to Lechworthy. “With all these torches dodging about, there’s nothing more likely. And the fact that it was put out so quickly looks like that. Still, it’s just possible that there’s somebody who’s not quite satisfied yet. We’ll take no risks.”
“Quite so,” said Lechworthy. “I’ll keep my eye on the road. The light’s not so good as it was.”
“We shall have the dawn in less than an hour now.”
Pryce snatched a moment for a word with Hilda, and went on his round of his men. On his way back some minutes later Lechworthy came towards him.
“Come and look at this, doctor. Those lights far down the road—are they coming or going?”
Pryce looked in silence for a few seconds. “Coming,” he said. “Also the chaps appear to be singing. You’ve done well, Lechworthy. Now you go on to the house while we teach them to sing a different tune.”
He went off along the bank. Lechworthy did not go to the house; he stood back where he could see what happened without being in the way.