'Yes,' said Mr Pin, staring at the blank wall. I remember.'
'And that time with that old man who was in that house in Genua and we didn't --ing know? So we nailed up the door and--'
'Shut up! Shut up!'
'Just trying to look on the --ing bright side.'
'We shouldn't have killed all those people...' Mr Pin whispered, almost to himself.
'Why not?' said Mr Tulip, but Pin's nervousness had got through to him again. He pulled at the leather cord around his neck and felt the reassuring lump on the end. A potato can be a great help in times of trial.
A pattering behind him made him turn round, and he brightened up.
'Anyway, we're okay now,' he said. 'Looks like it's --ing raining.'
Silver droplets were pouring through the cellar hatch.
'That's not water!' screamed Pin, standing up.
The drops ran together, became a steady stream. It splashed oddly and mounded up under the hatch, but more liquid poured on top of it and spread out across the floor.
Pin and Tulip backed against the far wall.
'That's hot lead,' said Pin. They print their paper with it!'
'How --ing much is there going to be?'
'Down here? Can't end up more than a couple of inches, can it?'
At the other side of the cellar Otto's bench started to smoulder as the pool touched it.
'We need something to stand on,' said Pin. 'Just while it cools! It won't take long in this chill!'
'Yeah, but there's nothing here but us! We're --ing trapped*.'
Mr Pin put his hand over his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath of air that was already getting very warm in the soft silver rain. He opened his eyes again. Mr Tulip was watching him obediently. Mr Pin was the thinker.
'I've... got a plan,' he said.
'Yeah, good. Right.'
'My plans are pretty good, right?'
'Yeah, you come up with some --ing wonders, I've always said. Like when you said we should twist the--'
'And I'm always thinking about the good of the Firm, right?'
'Yeah, sure, right.'
'So... this plan... it's not, like, a perfect plan, but... oh, the hell with it. Give me your potato.'
'What?'
Suddenly Mr Pin's arm was stretched out, his crossbow an inch from Mr Tulip's neck.
'No time to argue! Gimme the damn potato right now! This is no time for you to thinkV
Uncertain, but trusting as ever in Mr Pin's survival abilities in a tight corner, Mr Tulip pulled the thong of the potato over his head and handed it to Mr Pin.