‘I have justice. Very well. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. “Well?” she said. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart. Her mouth at half-cock, Melusine stood there staring at him. The Magdalene. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. ’ Without stopping for a response, Gerald pushed past him and entered the convent just in time to hear Melusine protesting.
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