“Sheer off!” There was anger in the voice and maybe a shadowing of doubt or fear.
“Are you there, madame?”
“I am,” she replied.
There was the sound of a blow, and I said, “Your life shall pay for that,” and we closed in around them.
A man came at me, cutlass swinging, but I fenced as my father and Jeremy had taught me. I moved back, and sure he had me, he came in swiftly. He cut sharply at me and missed; my point did not. My blade touched the point where his neck met his chest.
He fell back, coughing, and my eyes, accustomed to the darkness now, saw a man turn on Adele, and I had a pistol from my waistband and a shot.
He fell.
There was a shout from the boat coming in. “Lashan?”
The maroons were armed with cutlasses, and but two or three had muskets. They turned and fired toward the incoming boat, and there was a curse, and then the boat began to back water swiftly. I thrust my empty pistol into my waistband and held my sword ready, but the fighting was over. On the sand were dark bodies, stretched and still. A maroon moved to stop one who was crawling away. “Let him go,” I said. “If he lives, he can tell them how foolish they were.”
Adele came to me across the sand. “You came in time. I knew you would.”
“It is Henry who deserves the thanks,” I said. “May we take you home now?”
At least three of her captors had fled, but we did not pursue. To find them in the darkness would be difficult, and my first task was to take Madame Legare to her home.
“It is arranged for,” Henry said. “We borrowed a carriage from a plantation.”
“Henry, no one must know of this. I hope you did not—”
He smiled. “I did not. They do not even know their carriage is being used, and before they do know, it will be back in its place, wiped clean as if never used.”
Hours later, we drove into the winding, palm-lined lane to the plantation house.
As we came near the house, a man walked out on the wide verandah. I rode on in advance. “Master Legare?”
He was a man in his thirties, not unhandsome and with a kindly but worried face. “Yes?”
“Madame Legare was taken by pirates, slavers, or something of the sort. We have brought her home. She was not harmed.”
“You are?”
“Kin Ring Sackett, of Virginia. The others,” I added, “are maroons.”
“Maroons?” He was startled. “But—!”
“They are our friends,” I said, “and without them we could have done little.”
The carriage drew up, and he ran down the steps to help her down. “You are all right?”
“All right.” She smiled suddenly, her hand still resting in his. “And I am home.”
“Will you come in?” He paused at the door, looking about. “Why! They are gone!”
Glancing back, I saw it was true. They had faded into the jungle and the planting as if they had never been. I had no need to ask where Henry might be. He knew, as I did, there was much to be done and that most of it must be done in Port Royal or in Santiago de la Vega.
The room into which I was shown was large and high of ceiling. Wide windows looked out over green lawns flaming with tropical flowers, whose names I knew not.
“You must rest, Captain,” Legare said, “but first something to eat.”
“There is little time—” I started to say, but he lifted a hand.
“Enough. We have much to talk of, you and I.” He glanced at me. “You have known my wife long?”
Briefly I explained my meeting with her and why I had come to Jamaica. I added, “In the Cape Ann district Madame Legare was a friend to a girl whom I know. A girl I—”
I caught myself up short. What was I saying? I hardly knew the girl, and she knew even less of me. A servant came in bearing a tray with coffee, eggs, ham, and a melon, of which I knew nothing.
“Adele does not wish me disturbed,” Legare said, “and she knows I am a quiet man who prefers a quiet life. I have books, I read much, I oversee my plantation myself, and I engage in a bit of trade. I also”—he took up a slice of toast and broke it in his fingers—”dabble in the governing of the island.
“Often,” he said, “I find it best to do what must be done without going through the usual channels. Adele is not yet familiar with my methods of operation. She does know that I prefer our life here. It is quiet, pleasant. We have a few friends and a graceful, easy life.”
He put down his glass. “I understand very well how you feel and agree that something must be done. I have thought so for some time. Now—suddenly—they have brought it home to me.”
“I have heard,” I suggested, “that Joseph Pittingel has many friends in high places, that he moves as he wishes.”
“To a point … only to a point. Unfortunately for him, he has never known how shallow are the roots of his power, nor has he ever been able to temper his greed. Continual success has led him to believe there can be no failure.”
Legare smiled, refilling my glass with coffee. “As to that, Captain Sackett, I agree.”
“I have been called ‘Captain’ but I have no claim to the title,” I said. “I am captain of nothing.”
He shrugged. “No matter. It is convenient. There are many such in the islands. It is a courtesy title as much as anything else, so grant those who use it their pleasure.”
He changed the subject suddenly and began talking of trade between the islands and Carolina and the Plymouth colony. “I have been content to plant and reap, but lately I have been thinking of branching out, building a three-cornered trade between the islands, England, and Carolina. I have hesitated because it demands a trip to England to find an agent there.”
A thought came to me, and I suggested, “I have a brother there who is a student of law at the Inns of Court. He is young, but he would be pleased to act for you.”
“His name?”
“Brian Sackett. I hear he has established very good connections there and has already a considerable background in the law.”
“Excellent! I can give him the chance, at least, and if he does well, there can be much business. The trade is growing, and I foresee much settlement in Carolina and Virginia and with it a growing demand as well as a need for a market for their produce, whatever it may be.”
“My father shipped several cargoes of mast timbers and potash while he was yet alive. Furs, of course. There is gold in limited quantity and some gems—very few.”
Legare got to his feet. “And you? What of you?”
“I am for the land,” I said. “All of this”—I gestured about—”is well and good, but I am a man of the forest and at home there. I have no great desire for wealth, and where I wish to live, there would be none to admire it.
“On the west of the blue mountains I have a cabin. I have a crop of corn which badly needs my attention now, and when this is done, I shall return. There is fruit and nuts in the forest, if one works hard enough, and there is fresh meat to have if one has the powder and lead.
“I have never wanted fine clothes or such a home. All I want of people are books. I love much to read, although a life in the wilderness leaves too little time for it. Still, by the firelight, and of an evening—”
Yet even as I spoke my thoughts were out there in the darkness. Where was Max Bauer? What now were the thoughts of Joseph Pittingel? And what had I done but frustrate them one more time, bringing us no nearer a conclusion.
They wanted me dead, and I was not dead. Not yet. Would they be out there in the dark? I thought not. They knew now of the maroons, our good friends, and they were no match for them by night.
They would await the coming of the day. They would suspect—
“I can offer you a carriage,” Legare said, “to carry you back to Port Royal or whatever you prefer.”
“Two hours of rest,” I suggested, “and then a good horse.”
“But—?”
“They will expect me to come by day, or they will expect me now. A carriage would be a death trap.”
So it was arranged, and I went up to the bed they provided in a high-ceilinged room with mosquito netting all about the bed. The night was warm, but I slept well.