down.
The immense rush of water, culminating in the huge waterfall dropping a hundred and fifty feet, hyp notized her. She began to feel dizzy as her feet took her two more steps over the wet, slippery surface of the platform of rock projecting over endless space. She thought she heard Tweed shout but the thunder of the waterfall drowned him out.
The next thing she knew he had one strong arm round her waist, the other gripping her arm tightly. He put his mouth close to her ear.
'You idiot! You will now do exactly what I tell you. I want you to slowly back away. Slow steps. This plat form is like a skating rink. Do not attempt to turn round. One foot at a time. That is an order!'
She obeyed. She had the strange sensation Tweed had lifted her off her feet. He hadn't. Her right boot slipped as she was moving it back. She was terrified. She was going to slide over the edge. Tweed's arm tightened round her waist until she felt she could hardly breathe, her face running with spray as an
exceptional surge of water arrived from higher up the river. Tweed's voice was in her ear again.
'Nearly off the platform,' he said gently. 'Just a few more steps and we're there. Then you can cry all you like . . .'
Tm not crying,' she shouted, furious. 'It's spray off the waterfall!'
Her burst of indignation seemed to give her new strength. A few more steps and she'd be clear of this hideous platform. Her right ankle sank into the sand at the top of the road. She gave a great sigh of relief.
'You did very well,' a familiar voice drawled. 'Sit down on this armchair.' Marler had spread out a waterproof sheet on a flatstone. 'And have a drink,' he went on as he offered her an uncapped flask.
'Is that alcohol?' she asked cautiously.
'No, you little boozer,' he told her, raising his voice. 'It is water. You go first. And leave a generous portion for Tweed and me . . .'
She thanked him, comfortably seated, began sip ping slowly, feeling much better. Marler, who had foreseen conditions, wore a raincoat, a small camera with a zoom lens slung from his neck.
'You've got nerve,' Marler told Paula.
'I was scared witlesss . . .'
'So was Tweed. So will I be, on that platform.'
'What are you going to do?' Tweed asked.
'See what is on the other side of this gorge?'
Neither of them had noticed until Marler pointed. On the far side of the Gorge three large caves had
been at some time carved out of the rock at their level, two more at the level below. Paula noticed they were high enough to accommodate men on horseback, recalling Bullerton's vivid description of the battle long ago.
'Lepard,' Marler explained, 'will, I am confident, station his killers inside them. They overlook the road, or the first part of it. Tweed, do you often drive your Audi along that road?'
'I was thinking of doing so each morning . . .'
'Good. So you will be the target.'
'Oh, no!' protested Paula.
'Please keep quiet, dear, until I'm finished,' admon ished Marler. 'It won't be Tweed driving, it will be a member of the team clothed to look like Tweed. Probably have to draw lots for the driver, since they'll all volunteer.'
'Not necessary,' Tweed insisted in a strong voice. 'Because I will be behind the wheel.'
'In that case I will be with you,' snapped Paula.
'No, you won't. And that is another order,' Tweed said, as he stared at her grimly.
'Time to take my pics of those caves so I can show the team.'
'You'd better be very careful of that platform,' Paula warned.
'I'll be OK. Look . . .'
He lifted a foot and he was wearing rubber gum- boots; the soles had rubber projections which would increase balance. He waved a hand, walked to the
platform, stamped a foot on its surface and marched across as though on grass. He went to the edge, took a lot of pics of the caves at both levels, returned smiling.
'Back to the Nag's Head,' he suggested. 'I've booked a room in my name. Also I've booked rooms for the rest of the team, telling the landlord, Bowling, they are
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