Where's the money? he asked.

Pye pushed a canvas bag across to him. His expression was one of disgust; he wanted no truck with fools.

Count it, he said. I'll take your word for it, said Sean and signed the receipt.

Sean rode out past the sale-pens and up the escarpment along the road to Pietermaritzburg. Mbejane trotted at his stirrup leading the spare horse. They stopped at the top of the escarpment. The wind had blown the clouds open and the starlight came through. They could see the town below them with here and there a lighted window.

I should have said goodbye to Ada, Sean thought. He looked down the valley towards Theunis Kraal. He could see no light. He touched the letter in the inside pocket of Wit.w.a.tersrand his coat. I'll post it to Garry from Pietermaritzburg, he spoke aloud.

Nkosi? asked Mbejane. I said, "It's a long road, let us begin. "'Yes, agreed Mbejane. Let us begin. They turned north from Pietermaritzburg and climbed steadily up across bleak gra.s.sland towards the mountains.

On the third day they saw the Drakensberg, jagged and black as the teeth of an ancient shark along the skyline.

It was cold; wrapped in his kaross Mbejane trailed far behind Sean. They had exchanged perhaps two dozen words since they left Pietermaritzburg for Sean had his thoughts and they were evil company. Mbejane was keeping discreetly out of his way. Mbejane felt no resentment, for a man who had just left his home and his cattle was ent.i.tled to brood. Mbejane was with sadness himself, he had left a fat woman in his bed to follow Sean.

Mbejane unplugged his small gourd snuff-box, picked a pinch and sniffed it delicately. He looked up at the mountains. The snows upon them were turning pink in the sunset and in a little while now they would make camp, and then again perhaps they would not. It made no difference.

Sean rode on after dark. The road crossed another fold in the veld and they saw the lights in the valley below.

Dundee, Sean thought without interest. He made no effort to hasten his horse but let it amble down towards the town. Now he could smell the smoke from the coal mine, tarry and thick in the back of his throat. They entered the main street. The town seemed deserted in the cold. Sean did not intend stopping, he would camp on the far side; but when he reached the hotel he hesitated.

There was warmth in there and laughter and the sound of men's voices and he was suddenly aware that his fingers were stiff with cold.

Mbejane, take my horse. Find a place to camp beyond the town and make a fire so I won't miss you in the dark. Sean climbed down and walked into the bar. The room was full, miners most of them, he could see the grey coal dust etched into their skins. They looked at him incuriously as he crossed to the counter and ordered a brandy. He drank it slowly, making no attempt to join the loud talk around him.

The drunk was a short man but built like Table Mountain, low, square and solid. He had to stand on tiptoe to put his arm around Sean's neck. Have a drink with me, Boetie. His breath smelt sour and old.

No thanks. Sean was in no mood for drunks. Come on, come on, the drunk insisted; he staggered and Sean's drink slopped onto the counter.

Leave me alone. Sean shrugged the arm away. You've got something against me? No. I just feel like drinking alone. You don't like my face, maybe? The drunk held it close to Sean's. Sean didn't like it. Push off, there's a good fellow.

The drunk slapped the counter. Charlie, give this big ape a drink. Make it a double. If he don't drink it, I ram it down his throat. Sean ignored the proffered gla.s.s. He swallowed what remained in his own and turned for the door. The drunk threw the brandy in his face. The spirit burned his eyes and he hit the man in the stomach. As his head came down Sean hit him again, in the face. The drunk spun sideways, fell and lay bleeding from his nose. What you hit him for? Another miner was helping the drunk into a sitting position. It wouldn't cost you nothing to have a drink with him.

Sean felt the hostility in the room; he was the outsider. This boy is looking for troubleIgoHe's a tough monkey. We know how to handle tough monkeysCome on, let's sort this b.a.s.t.a.r.d out Sean had hit the man as a reflex action. He was sorry now, but his guilt evaporated as he saw them gathering against him. Gone too was his mood of depression and in its place was a sense of relief. This was what he needed.

There were six of them moving in on him in a pack.

Six was a fairly well-rounded number. One of them had a bottle in his hand and Sean started to smile. They were talking loudly, spreading courage and waiting for one of their fellows to start it.

Sean saw movement out of the side of his eye and jumped back to cover it with his hands ready. Steady on there, a very English voice soothed him. I have come to offer my services. It seems to me you have adversaries and to spare. The speaker had stood up from one of the tables behind Sean. He was tall, with a gauntly ravage d face and an immaculate grey suit.

I want them all, said Sean.

d.a.m.ned unsporting. The newcomer shook his head.

I'll buy the three gentlemen on the left if your price is reasonable. Take two as a gift and consider yourself lucky. Sean grinned at him and the man grinned back. They had almost forgotten the impending action in the pleasure of meeting'Very decent of you. May I introduce myself, Dufford Charleywood. He shifted the light cane into his left hand and extended his right to Sean.

Sean Courtney. Sean accepted the hand. Are you b.a.s.t.a.r.ds going to fight or what! protested one of the miners impatiently.

rWe are, dear boy, we are, said Duff and moved lightly as a dancer towards him, swinging the cane. Thin as it was it made a noise like a well-hit baseball along the man's head.

Then there were five, said Duff. He flicked the cane and, weighted with lead, it made a most satisfactory swish. Like a swordsman he lunged into the throat of the second miner. The man lay on the floor and made a strangling noise.

,The rest are yours, Mr Courtney, said Duff regretfully.

Sean dived in low, spreading his arms to scoop up all n the pile of bodies four pairs of legs at once. He sat up i and started punching and kicking.

Messy, very messy, murmured Duff disapprovingly.

The yelps and thuds gradually petered into silence and Sean stood up. His lip was bleeding and the lapel was torn off his jacket.

Drink? asked Duff.

Brandy, please. Sean smiled at the elegant figure against the bar. I won't refuse another drink this evening. They took the gla.s.ses to Duff's table, stepping over the bodies as they went.

Mud in your eye!

Down the old red lane!

Then they studied each other with frank interest, ignoring the clearing up operations being conducted around them.

,You are travelling? asked Duff.

Yes, are you? No such luck. I am in the permanent employ of Dundee Collieries Ltd. You work here! Sean looked incredulous for Duff was a peac.o.c.k among pigeons.

a.s.sistant Engineer, nodded Duff. But not for long; the taste of coal-dust sticks in my craw. May I suggest something to wash it outV

A splendid idea, agreed Duff.

Sean brought the drinks to the table.

Where are you headed? asked Duff.

I was facing north when I started, shrugged Sean, I just kept going that way. Where did you start from? South. Sean answered abruptly.

Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Duff smiled. Yours is brandy, isn't it? The Barman came round from behind the counter and crossed to their table.

h.e.l.lo, Charlie, Duff greeted him. I take it you require compensation for the damage to your fittings and furniture?

Don't worry about it, Mr Charleywood. Not often we have a good barney like that. We don't mind the odd table and chair as long as it's worth watching. Have it on the house. That's extremely good of you. That's not what I came across for, Mr Charleywood.

I've got something I'd like you to take a look at, you being a mining chap and all. Could you spare a minute, sir? Come on, Sean.

Let's see what Charlie's got for us. My guess is it's a beautiful woman. It's not actually, sir, said Charlie seriously and led the way through into the back room. Charlie reached up and took a lump of rock down from one of the shelves. He held it out to Duff. What do you make of that?

Duff took it and weighed it in his hand, then peered closely at it. It was gla.s.sy grey, blotched with white and dark-red and divided by a broad black stripe.

Some sort of conglomerate. Duff spoke without enthusiasm. What's the mystery? Friend of mine brought it down from Kruger's Republic on the other side of the mountains. He says it's gold bearing.