That seemed to satisfy him and he followed me without further protest as I went up the cross-cut to the shaft and climbed the ladder to the top. The moon was sinking towards the sea, throwing long shadows across the white landscape. I breathed in the fresh air and, as we sat down on a patch of bracken among the gorse bushes, I sensed that Dave was less nervous up here in the open air.
We hadn't been there a few minutes before figures moved out of the black shadows of the sheds. There were four of them. Friar and Slim each had hold of one of the old man's arms. His son followed behind. They climbed the hill towards us. As they came within earshot Slim was saying, 'Bloody lucky, I call it.'
'It fair makes me sweat ter fink aba't it,' Friar said.
'Well, see that you don't mention it to Pryce,' Captain Manack ordered. 'I don't want him getting scared.'
'I'm all fer goin' back ter the nice peaceful life of makin' kerb stones,' Friar said. 'Wot you say, Slim? Kerb stones is a sort o' restful thing ter be makin'.'
'You didn't think much of the job when we were cutting those ledges,' Slim answered sourly.
'Well, yer can 'ave too much of a good thing. Nah all we fink of is liquor.' He spat. 'Some o' these 'ere ruddy Black Marketeers oughter come an' get their liquor the 'ard way — like we does.'
The sound of their voices died away. I watched them disappear over the brow of the hill, four dark figures against the moon-filled sky. 'What about going up to the top of the hill and seeing him safely inside the house?' I said. 'I won't be happy till I know the old man's safely locked up.' The time was two-thirty. I had to keep him above ground till three.
He hesitated. 'All right,' he said.
We went slowly up the hill. I bore away slightly to the left where there was a gulley that ran up close to the house. We went up this and came out within fifty yards of Cripples' Ease. There was no one about. The house stood square and unbeautiful, looking out with pale eyes to the sea. 'Come on,' Dave said. 'He's safe enough now.'