"Katy, let's go." Winston motioned her forward. "We'll probably have more company any minute now."
"You're no better than a murderer, sir." Morris finally recovered his voice.
"I didn't fire the first shot. But by God I'll be the one who fires the last, that I promise you." He glanced back. "Katy, I said let's go. Take whatever you want, but hurry."
"Hugh, they've killed Jeremy!" She stood unmoving, shock in her face.
"He wouldn't let me handle this my way." Winston kept his eyes on Morris. "But it's too late now."
"He tried to stop them. He did it for me." She was shaking. "Oh, Jeremy, why in God's name?"
"Katy, come on." Winston looked back. "Joan, get her things. We've got to move out of here, now."
Joan turned and pushed her way through the cluster of Irish girls standing fearfully in the rear doorway.
"You'll hang for this, sir." Morris eyed the pistol. The remaining infantryman still sat against the wall, his unfired musket on the floor beside him.
"The way you'd planned to hang Miss Bedford, no doubt." He motioned toward Briggs. "Care to collect those muskets for me?"