Then Guy straightened with a good, wholesome oath.
“Son of Satan, the King’s signet!”
Merlin’s lips curled.
“Is it a good pledge, sirs?”
“We serve the King!”
“Fetch me a grindstone, neighbours; I will put me a double edge on my knife.”
A head came poking in at the door.
“Father Merlin, the boat is at the steps.”
“Come, good rogues, come.”
They picked up sundry bundles and swarmed after him down the narrow way between the houses to the river. A boat was waiting at the steps, a man squatting in the bow and holding the chain.