The fishermen looked at Noah and the criminal reluctantly, but finally the older one turned to his son: "Get sum' rope." And the lad disappeared into the cottage. Fishing wasn't what it used to be, what with those trawlers depleting the stock, and the promise of two extra shillings was more enticing than the idea of dealing with street thugs (and helping to protect one) was unappealing.

The older fisherman walked over to Quentin and held out his hand. "But we'll have our payment in advance, ser, as a famous stranger is still a stranger."

The young man returned with rope and began to tie the criminal. Noah stepped back further. He looked on with horror, fighting the nauseating memory of the same young man pinioning him.