Anne Scott remained prone on the floor, her mind dazed but her senses still aware. She had seen Lord Purceville go to the window, as she had watched his treacherous Lieutenant move behind him. . .and heard the long fall to ruin.
Now she lay very still, as the man remained with his back to her, perhaps in contemplation of what to do next. Moving one arm only, she again found the knife, which had not slipped far from her grasp. And she in turn felt a strong temptation to creep up behind him..... But all around her was the taste of murder and death. And for the love she still bore her children, she could not.
Then Ballard, for reasons known only to himself, turned away and walked past her, out of the cell, and locked the door behind him.
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.