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"You can always try," Chavasse said, inventing freely. "But I think you'll find that the French coastguard and police are prepared in advance for just such a move."

"It would seem you have thought of everything." Stavru walked to the french windows and stood there looking out at the rain. Suddenly he swung around and there was something close to excitement on his face. "But perhaps not?" he said softly and turned to Vaughan. "Get Youngblood up here, Simon, and quickly. There's no time to lose."

"There's no way out, you know," Chavasse said.

"You have a saying, do you not, Mr. Chavasse? Desperate situations breed desperate remedies."

He poured himself another drink and a moment later, Youngblood was pushed into the room. He stood there, hands clenching and unclenching nervously, a wary expression on his face and Stavru moved to meet him.

"Mr. Youngblood, I have just discovered some rather unpleasant news. Mr. Chavasse's wolves could apparently descend on us at any moment."

"That's your hard luck."

"And yours--or do you look forward to your return to your cell at Fridaythorpe for the next fifteen years?"

Youngblood's face was his answer and Stavru laughed gently. "Then we can do business. I understand that at one time you were a Petty Officer on torpedo boats in your Royal Navy and that after the war you were engaged in the running of contraband across the channel."

"So what?"

"You brought the Pride of Man over from England by night in not very pleasant weather which would seem to indicate your competence. Could you sail her to Portugal?" He turned to Chavasse. "I should perhaps explain that the boat is registered in Liberia. It would therefore be completely illegal for even the Royal Navy to attempt to board her at sea."

"Her range is only six hundred," Youngblood said. "You'd need enough extra juice for another three or four hundred miles, just to take care of contingencies."

"There is plenty of petrol on the jetty in twenty gallon drums."

"All right--what's in it for me?"

"Your continued freedom and, of course, your diamonds or their equivalent in Swiss francs. As a matter of interest, I would be setting up a new organisation in Tangiers. I think we might do very well together."

"Don't listen to him, Harry," Chavasse said. "You'd never get across the Bay of Biscay in a boat like that. It's the wrong time of year."

"Who says I wouldn't?" Youngblood smiled recklessly. "I'd take that tub to hell rather than go back to Fridaythorpe." He turned to Stavru. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Stavru's hand came out of his pocket clutching a Luger. He held it out, a slight smile on his face. "Would this constitute a satisfactory token?"

Youngblood satisfied himself that the weapon was loaded and grinned as he pushed it into his hip pocket. "Okay, let's get started. The sooner we get those drums on board, the sooner we get out of here."

Stavru nodded and turned to Vaughan. "Take Mr. Chavasse back to the young lady and come back as quickly as you can. I want you to help me clear up the essentials in the house. Gledik can go down to the jetty with Mr. Youngblood to load the fuel."

"Is it in order to ask what you're going to do with us?" Chavasse said.

Vaughan smiled. "I'm sure I'll think of something, old man."

As he was pushed towards the door, Chavasse turned in appeal to Youngblood. "They're going to kill us, Harry, you know that."

"That's your hard luck."

"What about Molly?"

"She shouldn't have joined. Nobody asked her to."

"And that's your last word?"

Youngblood's face was suddenly suffused with passion. "Well what do you expect me to say, for Christ's sake? You've got to look out for number one in this life."

He turned angrily and went out through the french windows, Gledik at his heels and Stavru came forward. "Sad, isn't it, but that's life, my friend."

"Even sadder is the fact that a man only ever reaps what he sows," Chavasse told him and he turned and went out, Vaughan a couple of paces ahead of him.

* * *

As the cellar