How the Hangman Lost His Heart by K. M. Grant Page A

better, the troopers on the bunks were all fast asleep. Tiptoeing across, Dan held a coat against himself. It was much too small for a man of his girth so he threw it down and picked up another, and another and another, until he found a reasonable fit. As he stripped, one of the sleeping beauties gurgled and rolled over, waking another, who sat up and threw a boot before covering his own head with a blanket. Dan stood, half in and half out of his new britches, until the snores were regular again. Then he pulled on the rest of the uniform and rolled his own clothes in with his knives and scissors. He had only just time to cram a hat onto his head and seize a sword before he heard laughing and stamping on the stairs and the room was filled with soldiers returning from their shift. Some looked at him curiously, and one or two were puzzled, for they could not place him, but before any could speak Dan made for the door. It was as he ran down the steps that he bumped flat into Hew himself. Only the shadows saved Dan from instant recognition.
    â€œWhat are you doing in full uniform, trooper?” Hew asked sharply, for he had not heard that the men inbarracks were to be ordered out and hoped this did not herald bad news about any sighting of Alice.
    â€œI’m, er, I’ve got to go and see the general,” Dan replied, trying to imply that his business was too urgent to brook any interruption. Hew would have pressed him further had not a commotion in the yard distracted him. One of the horses wasn’t happy. “Very well, then,” he said. “About your business.”
    â€œSir.” Dan was not sure if he was meant to touch his hat or not, so he simply lifted his arm a little and carried on down the steps.
    â€œThe general’s not down there,” came Hew’s voice. “He’s up in his quarters.”
    Dan stopped. “Thank you, sir,” he said, and had to turn around and pass Hew again. Fortunately, Hew’s attention was already elsewhere. Nevertheless, he did not leave until he had seen Dan disappear.
    The first floor was very comfortable, with rugs, hangings, and armchairs. The general was nowhere to be seen. Dan hesitated, wondering if Hew would still be lurking, but before he could tiptoe down to see, he heard somebody approaching. Losing his cool completely, he rushed toward a small door set in an alcove. It was unlocked and Dan tumbled through. This room was in the most awful mess, with clothes scattered all over the beds. Dan hid, then, when nobody came in after him, picked up some of theitems, and, even though his pulse was racing, grinned. God was really smiling! The general had sons and the boys had obviously been given Kingston’s uniforms as fancy dress. Here was stuff that might just fit Alice. Yanking up the corners of a blanket, so that everything—shirts, breeches, sashes, gloves, stockings, boots, coats, hats, and swords—dumped into the middle, Dan was thinking perfectly clearly again. If no bits of uniform remained for either boy, it would be assumed that the servants had put them away. It would be hours before anybody suspected they had been stolen. He knotted the blanket and hung it over his shoulder, opened the door a crack, and found himself confronted directly not only by the general’s back but by the regimental cat.
    The cat gave a loud meow and, before Dan could stop it, wedged itself between the door and the doorpost. The general half-turned, bent down, and waggled his fingers. “Kitty, kitty, kitty,” he cooed. Dan willed the cat to move, but it only arched at him and purred. “Go on back to your kittens, then, kitty, kitty, kitty.” The general’s tone was sickly sweet, but Dan knew this was reserved strictly for animals. When addressing humans, it was lethal. He reversed at high speed. Just as he reached the window, his blanket sack began to move. At first the movements were so small Dan hardly felt them, but as