When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. Capes kept obstinately stiff, and spoke between his teeth. But you belong to me—and I want you. ‘Do not move, messieurs, or I shall be compelled to blow off your head. ‘I am not a fool. “I have not the least idea who he is. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control.
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