i was watching the striped grey light from the bars of the door and listening to the clamour of the jail : the curses ; night-time screams ; a constant clanging that never ceased , as though someone , somewhere , spent all day and night rattling a cup along the bars ; and , sometimes , i was listening to my own voice , just to remind myself that i was still alive , when i would curse my luck , curse roberts , curse templars , curse my crew ...