His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. Families had seen their lands seized, their chateaux ransacked or burned, and those unlucky enough to have failed to anticipate disaster, had been murdered or dragged away to gaol. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. Roddy muffed two.
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