"Let go!" Pulling frantically against the hard hand that imprisoned her, Caitlyn heard her heart pound out loud rhythms of terror. If she didn't get loose she'd hang…

In a final, desperate bid for freedom she flew at her captor like an enraged gamecock, kicking his shins with the hard edge of her square-toed shoes and launching a mighty blow upward with her free fist that, had it connected with his nose, would likely have broken it. But he was tall and he jerked his head out of range, so that her fist only caught him a glancing blow on the neck. Still, it was enough to make him cough-and to tighten that imprisoning hand until the watch dropped from her numb fingers to clatter against the cobblestones and she was forced to her knees. It was all she could do not to whimper as he scooped up his watch and restored it to his pocket without easing that bone-crushing grip. Kneeling, white- faced with pain and burgeoning panic, she was nevertheless defiant as she stared up into that soft-no-longer face. Caitlyn O'Malley asked for no quarter, ever.

"Call the constabulary, then, ye bloody Sassenach!" she hissed, defeated but still proud. His eyes narrowed at her. She saw that beneath thick black brows they were a strange combination of blue and green, almost aqua, with a circle of black around the irises. Shivering, she thought: Devil's eyes, and barely managed to refrain from making the horned sign with her fingers that warded off the evil eye. The only thing that stopped her was a refusal to let him see her fear.

"Don't fash yerself, lad; we'll not be turning our own over to a bloody Orangeman!" That low-timbred rumble came from the huskiest man in the small crowd of quay workers and their women that had gathered around them. Caitlyn, still on her knees, looked at the angry faces with renewed hope. Had she robbed one of them, they'd have shown her no mercy. But a Sassenach…! She might cheat the hangman yet.