The earth trembles. The Cinderlad stands appalled. His teeth are chattering like popcorn in a sack, The walls creak, the wind whistles in his ears, straw whips around his breast. Gripping a beam, he steadies and spits out the words, "If it grows no worse...

" In his mind, his eldest brother storms, "Exceptions are exceptions, not the rules!" Black eves beneath black hood reprove him angrily. "Consider the probabilities! Remember, all is accident. I'm glad you escaped with your skin the last time. But don'{ imagine that's a pattern. Sensible men retreat strategically,"