"I ask for no greater promise," he said, "than that you do what you
know is right. Now, if you will take it, here is my hand."
The Englishman took it in his own, with the same measured gaze that he
had worn since the Highlander's return. There was no time to wonder at
the thoughts that lay behind it.
"Come on," said Michael. "We've got a long ride ahead of us."
"Where are we going?"
"To find a more defensible corner."
Thirty
The Lord Henry Purceville lay alone in the heavy framed bed, with
sleep the distant memory of a child. And though he knew there were a
thousand contingencies which he must anticipate, and prepare against,
still a single question drove all others from his mind.
How had it come to this?
His own son, whose hatred now seemed assured, had turned against him,
and had to be bound and dragged away like a criminal. His beautiful,
melancholy daughter, who had dared to stand up to him, lay pale and
shivering in the Tower at his own command. And he himself, once a
proud and fearless soldier of the line, lying and hiding to protect
his pitiful gains from a withered aristocrat whose skull he could so
easily crush.
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