I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. 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. ‘Move, you. I spied a small picture of them in your house, though. Father— dead. ’ Roding left the house instantly, not even pausing to nod. I won't have a beachcomber on the island.
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