Mary was the first to regain her senses. For a warning bell had tolled
somewhere within the Castle, and now an answering shot was heard from
the garrison below.
"We've got to get out of here, Michael."
"But my mother....."
"Go!" came a woman's voice, descending from on high with the strength
and finality of angels. The two looked up to see the widow's stern
form pointing out and away, not in gesture, but command: they were to
live, and go on giving.
Michael looked to the ground, to the wasted rope, then into the eyes
of the young life entrusted to his care. And for all the pain it cost
him, he was left no choice.
"I'll come back for you!" he cried. "I love you!"
And taking Mary by the hand, he led her to a crease in the cliffs,
where a knife-slash path led to the sheltered cove far below. There,
in that place removed, he could only hope that the fisherman was
waiting with a boat.
Thirty-Seven
The long, snaking descent seemed to take forever, yet still no pursuit
showed itself on the heights above. Perhaps the death of their leader
had thrown the soldiers into confusion.
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