Twenty-Six
Michael woke suddenly, to the sound of the front door being thrown
open, and a low scuffling noise in the passage which he could not
dissect. The door was closed again and voices were heard, along with
the muffled curses of a man bound. And for all the fugitive plans he
had tried to form, Michael knew his one defense now was utter silence.
"The old man's lost his mind," said the first voice, breathing hard
but speaking in hushed tones. "How long's he think he can keep things
dark, now it's come to this? We can't keep him stowed here like a
barrel in the hold forever."
"And you're a damned fool, Stubb," came the second, harsh and uncowed.
"All we've got to do is keep him out of sight till Arthur turns tail
and runs. And he will, or I know naught. The old man can't be took on
his own ground. And but for his majesty here, and them bitches in the
Tower, there ain't none as lived long enough to speak against him.
Master `enry does things proper, and no mistake."
"You may be right for now, Ballard, but how long do you think he can
keep it up? He's squeezed blood from these stones long enough.
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