She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. Now when I tell you exactly the truth, you will also not believe me. Something in her tone made him look up. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. “What’s that for?” He said. They crossed the Channel in sunshine and a breeze that just ruffled the sea to glittering scales of silver. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. Opposite the gallows was an open gallery, or scaffolding, like the stand at a racecourse, which, on state occasions, was crowded with spectators. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face.
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