Son of Fury Page #4

Never be taken unawares.

Call yourself a Blake,

will you?

Pose as a gentleman,

will you?

Open the door.! Open the door.!

Open the door.!

Open the door.!

Open the door.!

Open the door.!

Stop!

For mercy's sake, stop!

Why are you

doing this for me?

Ben, I have no right

to tell you this.

After all,

he is my husband.

But I am sure, as sure as we hope for salvation,

that he's robbed you...

that Breetholm

is rightfully yours.

I have no proof, Ben,

except what is in my heart...

and what I remember

of your father.

But proof there must be,

and someday you'll find it.

And when you do, I want you

to know that I will help you.

Why?

Because, had my prayers

been answered...

you would have been my son.

Here's the clothes you wrote for.

And a fine bargain I made.

- Have you news of a ship?

- There's one out of Bristol tomorrow...

- for Portagee Brazil and Spice Islands.

- A merchantman?

Aye. A brig of nigh 200 ton.

Her name the Tropic Star.

But you'll be

weak to try it, Ben.

How weak

do you think I am?

He walks feeble,

but he don't stand feeble.

Look.

I let him think

I wasn't as well as I am.

Remember what

your grandpa said.

You was only to run for last ship when flesh

and blood can stand no more.

- You speak for my grandfather, Pale Tom?

- Aye.

- Will you listen for him too?

- Aye.

Flesh and blood

can stand no more.

- What is it, Ben?

- My business is with him.

What business, Ben?

I must know. Is it killing?

- Not unless he tries it first.

- Oh, Ben, I beg of you.

If you so much as touch him,

he can have you hanged.

- I know that.

- Is it worth throwing your whole life away?

Till this matter is settled,

my life means very little.

He keeps a pistol

in the table drawer by his bed.

Is this what

you're looking for?

If you put that away,

I'll fight you fair.

You really think I'd soil

my hands on a stable boy?

You were ready enough to soil

them when I couldn't hit back.

I've been very patient

with you, Ben...

but I'm afraid

it's hopeless.

I've done everything in my power to help you

find yourself. Apparently I've failed.

You've broken in here and threatened me,

your master, with assault.

It's jail for you,

my lad.

A few years in Bristol Newgate

should teach you your place.

Come in.

Well, come in, you fool!

The window, you fool.!

Light the candles.!

Open!

Open!

Has thy grandson been here?

Put out the candle.

Sit over there.

He's coming.

Are they after you?

Follow me. Listen.

Mind the tap, will you?

You'll be safe here, sir.

But you'll go to jail

if they find me with you.

I was born in jail.

Open, in the king's name.!

Oh, go away, will you?

- Open the door.!

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