My eyes had slid half-shut during the last few minutes of passion. Now, I opened them very slowly and carefully. The first thing I saw was Mr Ambrose, standing even stiller than me, like a statue hewn from bedrock. The second thing I saw was the gun pressed to his head.

‘Did you really think,’ came the voice of Lieutenant Louis de Alvarez, ‘that we would let a treasure like the one you are after slip through our fingers? Oh no. War is a costly business, my friend. Now, hands up, both of you! And don’t try any tricks!’

We both followed the order with reluctance. Cautiously peeking past my raised hands, I let my eyes wander from the pistol, along the arm that held it to the figure of Lieutenant de Alvarez. The little man didn’t look particularly impressive next to Mr Ambrose, but his gun was loaded and his arm perfectly steady. That more than made up for his diminutive size.

He smirked. ‘We had the chance to study that manuscript of yours a little before you managed to escape. What a marvellous thing you’ve discovered there, my friend! And do you know what?’

Mr Ambrose’s mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. ‘No. What?’

‘We came to the conclusion that we can make much better use of the gold than you greedy Englishmen. So, hand over the manuscript now, and you’ll have the thanks of the Piratini Republic.’

To judge by the look on Mr Ambrose’s face, he cared as much for the thanks of the Piratini Republic as for mashed snails in garlic sauce.

‘And if I don’t?’

‘Then you’ll have a bullet in your brain. Or maybe, I should put one into the head of this lovely young lady here instead?’

‘Please do. Her head is worth much less than mine.’

I bridled at his words. I knew of course that downplaying my importance was the wisest course of action to take, that the less important Mr Ambrose made me out to be, the safer I would be. But he didn’t have to sound so bloody convincing, damn him!

‘Hm…’ The lieutenant was stroking his chin thoughtfully, his eyes wandering between me and Mr Ambrose. ‘We shall see. No matter what, we shall find a use for her.’ His arm still rock-steady, he gave a mocking little bow to me. ‘My apologies, by the way, for our inefficient torture methods, Senhora. If we had understood the reality behind the mask, I’m sure we would have found something more appropriate to a member of the fairer sex.’

His eyes drifted over me, leaving little doubt about the meaning of his words. From behind him, raucous laughter drifted towards me, and for the first time I realised that he was not alone. Shadows were shifting under the trees, moving steadily towards us. It looked like he had brought a whole squadron along with him.

‘Don’t worry, Lieutenant,’ I assured him. ‘I won’t hold your negligence against you. In fact, I wouldn’t mind you being negligent again.’

‘That is extremely unlikely, Senhora. But enough of these pleasantries.’ He pressed the gun more tightly against Mr Ambrose’s temple. ‘The manuscript! Now, if you please!’

‘Como interessante, Lieutenant,’ came a voice from further back out of the darkness of the jungle. ‘That was just what I was going to say.’

There were more clicks of weapons, and out of the shadows of the trees stepped Colonel Alberto Silveira, rifle raised and aimed straight at the lieutenant’s head.

‘Hands up!’

‘Um…I already have my hands up,’ I pointed out.

‘Not you! Him!’ The army colonel jerked his rifle towards de Alvarez. The man hesitated for just a moment - then dropped his gun with a low curse and raised his hands over his head.

‘What’s your name?’ Silveira demanded.

‘De Alvarez, you imperialist scum!’

‘Ha! I’ve heard of you! Wait till the general hears of this. I was only reckoning with the treasure. If I can bag you rebel vermin into the bargain, there’ll be a promotion in this for me.’

The only reply to this was an intelligible string of Portuguese profanities. I listened with interest. If I survived this, my vocabulary would be considerably extended.

The colonel did not seem impressed by de Alvarez’s tirade, however. His rifle remained steady on the rebel commander. ‘Shut up, you filthy dog! And as for you…’

The colonel’s eyes drifted to Mr Ambrose. ‘Under different circumstances I might drag you back to headquarters and teach you the error of your ways. Someone has to show you that you cannot simply march into a war zone without suffering the consequences. But I’ll have my hands full with this lot, so you and your lady will be getting off lightly. Leave Brazil, and you won’t hear from me again. But the Brazilian Empire is confiscating that manuscript. We can’t have it falling into the wrong hands, now, can we?’

Mr Ambrose met the colonel’s eyes. It was hard to say whose gaze was further below the freezing point. ‘No,’ Mr Ambrose agreed. ‘We can’t have that.’

In a flash, his hands darted to his belt, and before either of the officers could move, the muzzles of two shining steel revolvers pointed in their faces. Shouts rose from all around us, and rustling broke out in the shadows as dozens of soldiers started to raise their weapons.

‘Nobody move!’ Mr Ambrose’s command cut through the air with the mastery of a dozen field generals. ‘One twitch means two bullets in the head! Understood?’

The shapes in the shadows froze, unsure what to do. But if they were taken aback by the new development, it was nothing to how Colonel Silveira seemed to feel. He gaped at Mr Ambrose. ‘I just saved your life!’

‘And you have my sincerest thanks,’ my dear employer told him without shifting his gun an inch from the man’s forehead. ‘We’ll chalk it up against the torture and imprisonment, and call us even. Now, drop the rifle and put your hands in the air. This is your last warning.’

Silveira wavered. He was clearly contemplating trying to sweep the rifle around and shoot down this arrogant Englishman who dared to threaten him like a dog. After all, who was he? Just some big city boy who had gotten mixed up in a matter far, far too big for him. Those were the thoughts clear on Silveira’s face - until he met Mr Ambrose’s eyes.

‘Don’t.’

It was just one word, but whispered with such ice-cold menace, it made me shiver. If Mr Ambrose ever pointed a gun at me with that look in his eyes, I didn’t know what I’d do. But I probably wouldn’t survive.

The rifle hit the ground with a wet thud.

Mr Ambrose inclined his head. ‘Acceptable.’

‘This doesn’t mean anything!’ Silveira hissed. ‘My men outnumber you a hundred to one! Do you honestly believe the two of you are going to get out of here alive?’

‘No, not the two of us. But the three of us - yes. Karim?’

The last word was a shout over the heads of the soldiers. From somewhere up in the trees came a metallic click, and an answering shout.

‘Yes, Sahib?’

‘Tell our good friend the colonel here what you have up there in the tree with you.’

‘As you wish, Sahib. I have with me one of your engineers’ experimental weapon models, a mechanised gun that can fire several shots per second - without requiring reloading, I might add. Some use the term “machine gun” for this new invention. It seems to be the pet project of the British and American armies, but I doubt the Brazilian Empire has got its hands on one of them yet.’

With every word, the face of the colonel grew paler.

‘A bluff!’ he hissed. ‘This is just a bl-’

Before he could finish the word, an ear-splitting roar cut the night in two. Lightning lit up the trees around, and the muddy ground at our feet spewed upwards, spattering us with dirt and shredded foliage.

Mr Ambrose cocked his head.

‘A bluff?’

Colonel Silveira swallowed. ‘All right. Maybe…not.’

‘I am so very pleased that you agree with me, Colonel. Now - tell your men to throw away their weapons, grab some rope and tie up the rebels!’

‘What?’ Lieutenant de Alvarez demanded. ‘You can’t-’

‘Except,’ Mr Ambrose cut him off, ‘for one, who will then take the rest of the rope and tie up all the imperial soldiers.’

‘What?’ Colonel Silveira exclaimed.

‘I thought I spoke perfectly clearly. But if you wish-’ Shifting, Mr Ambrose pressed the barrels of his guns against the two men’s heads more tightly. ‘-I can let my two metal associates speak for me.’

‘N-no! No need for that. Men, do as he says!’

It all went surprisingly smoothly. I watched, open-mouthed, as enemy soldiers disarmed each other and pulled out coils of rope to tie rebel to imperial and imperial to rebel. Mr Ambrose watched like a hawk, making sure everything went exactly as he had commanded. I had to admire his ingenuity. With only enemies binding each other, it was ensured that nobody would tie a knot too loosely. In the end, all except the officers and one more man were tied up in an impenetrable tangle of ropes.

‘Kneel!’ Mr Ambrose commanded.

The man did as ordered.

‘Now cross your arms behind your back! Mr Linton?’

The call of my name pulled me from the amazed paralysis.

‘Y-yes, Sir?’

‘Tie his hands behind his back. And don’t be afraid to tie the knots too tightly.’

He didn’t have to tell me that twice - or once, for that matter. By the time I was finished with the poor man, he was tied up more tightly than a parcel on its way to Australia.

‘Karim!’ Mr Ambrose called.

‘Coming, Sahib!’

With an earth-shaking thud, the Mohammedan dropped out of a nearby tree, a metal monstrosity clutched under one arm that I assumed was the so-called machine gun. For a moment, I wondered where in hell he had kept this thing hidden before - then I remembered some rather large packages on the back of his packhorse. Of course. Only…there had been more than one such package. What might the others contain?

Mr Ambrose didn’t leave me any time to ponder the question further.

‘Karim, tie up these two gentlemen here,’ he commanded, nodding to the officers.

‘I’m an officer of the Brazilian Empire!’ Silveira sputtered. ‘You can’t-’

‘And knock them unconscious, for good measure,’ Mr Ambrose added.

Silveira shut up.

‘And me?’ I asked.

‘You, Mr Linton, pack everything up and ready the horses. We’re leaving.’

I was too busy with my own hasty work after that to pay attention to what Mr Ambrose or Karim were doing. But once I had the horses packed and ready to depart, I glanced back at our former campsite, and saw de Alvarez and Silveira bound up along with their men, glowering fiercely up at Mr Ambrose. Karim stepped behind them, raising the butt of his rifle.

‘Not yet,’ Mr Ambrose ordered, freezing him in place. ‘I have something to say to our two friends yet.’

Kneeling on the ground so he was on eye-level with the two of them. His eyes, already cold before, took on that same merciless look he had had when holding the guns to their heads. I shivered - partly with instinctive trepidation, but far more with anticipation. I couldn’t wait to have those dangerous eyes on me again.

‘My business,’ he told them, his voice coming straight from Antarctica, ‘is not your business. And yet you chose to interfere. Be thankful that I am leaving you alive. Others have not been so lucky.’

‘You bastardo!’ de Alvarez growled. ‘You will pay for this!’

‘I doubt it,’ Mr Ambrose retorted, letting his gaze wander over the officers. ‘I never pay for goods of substandard quality.’

‘You…!’

The officer didn’t get out anything more. He seemed to choke on his own indignation, and his nemesis tied up right next to him didn’t appear to fare any better.

‘I would advise you,’ Mr Ambrose continued as if they hadn’t spoken, ‘not to follow us. Where we are going, there is no place for people like you. The treasure is mine! All mine! And if my man Karim catches so much of a glimpse of any of you, he will not hesitate to use that metal instrument he is caressing so fondly. Do we understand each other?’

The two officers remained silent.

‘Adequate.’ Mr Ambrose rose to his feet. ‘I will have to hope that you use your heads and heed my warning. Oh, and I almost forgot-’

He reached into his pocket with one hand. When he drew it out again, he a held long, shining steel blade. De Alvarez and Silveira shrank back, for the first time since they had been disarmed real fear showing in their eyes.

‘Oh, don’t be afraid. This isn’t for you.’ Stepping up to a falling tree trunk nearby, Mr Ambrose placed the shiny dagger on top of it, and let it lie there. ‘Or I suppose it is, in a way. After all, we wouldn’t want you all to starve to death in the jungle, would we? No, I hope you die much more unpleasant deaths. So I am going to leave this here with you. Once we are gone, you may try to reach it. Whoever gets to it first, rebel or imperial, can cut his bond. And whoever is free first, with a knife in his hand…’

He let his gaze wander over his wide-eyed audience. Something much too cold to be a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth for a millisecond.

‘Well, I’m sure I won’t have to explain that part to you.’

Without another word, he turned, grabbed the reins of his horse and marched off into the jungle.

‘Come on, Karim, Mr Linton!’ he called. ‘Time to go and leave these gentlemen to their business!’