Chapter 1Bristol, 1785
Kit ran for his life. He cursed how his smart, buckled shoes clattered noisily over the slimy cobbles of Back Street, close to the harbour. In his frantic escape from a hellish fate, even the sound of his laboured breath and the pounding of his heart might be heard by his pursuers.
Having evaded their evil grasp and raced away, he could not keep up his headlong pace and fearfully looked around for a hiding place. He spied a dark alleyway, almost too narrow for two men to walk abreast, and squeezed his way into it, waiting for the approach of his tormentors. As he caught his breath, his sweat-soaked shirt clinging to him, he berated his stupidity. On this dark October night, he had been tricked as easily as a child. He risked forfeiting his life for a moment of unwa
