The music throbbed into the warnings that preceded the king’s irruption. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. Some doting parent had taught him well. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. For a moment she remained silent. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. Wood had retired to his own room, where he had just summoned Thames.
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