Fair Blows The Wind Part 27

"Nothing would please me more," I said, surprising myself at the words, but adding very hastily, "yet I would hesitate to more than suggest. Safety in England would give us time to plan, and perhaps we can arrange for you to return to Peru."

She shrugged. "I was not safe there before. Why should I be again?"

"Perhaps to return to one of those hidden places still maintained by the Incas," I suggested.

"I escaped from there, too," she admitted, "nor can I well return."

"All this can be decided at another time. Now it is enough to bring you alive into England, and with our friends."

For a moment there was silence and then I said, "Senorita, I, too, know what it means to escape. I had to flee my own land. Even in England, if they discovered who I was, I would be in danger. I would say this to none but you, but I wish you to know that I do understand."

We rested, then ate, then rested some more. Silliman Turley and I talked, and from time to time I translated for Armand and Felipe, although the former, having been a fisherman, had picked up some words of English.

The original plan of the Good Catherine had been to trade to the south as far as the mouth of the Savannah River, avoiding any contact with the Spanish, and then to turn about and come back up the coast. This she might already have done, although I'd been but a few days ash.o.r.e and doubted there had been time. There was every chance she might come again along the coast.

She might and she might not. In any case, I must recover my boat and its treasure!

30.

"Before the first light," I suggested, and they agreed, content now to rest.

Over a slight fire, built upon a bed of flat stones, Turley with Conchita's help made a gruel and some cakes, using the nuts for meal. There was smoked fish as well, and we were hungry.

It was a tidy place he had here, and it spoke well for Silliman Turley. He was no idler, but a workman competent with many skills.

"I have a boat," I said, "a s.h.i.+p's boat. It is loaded but will still carry us all if we can reach it."

With the fire out the night was very dark, yet bright with stars. We heard vague sounds, and a sort of whoosh as some great bird, an owl no doubt, swept by on wide, slow-moving wings. The girls could have slept in the house, if such it could be called, but they preferred the cooler outside air.

Guadalupe was no more sleepy than I, so we sat together listening to the sounds of the night and watching the stars.

"Where was your home?" she asked. "I mean, when you were very young?"

I told her, choosing my words with care, and without naming places, of my boyhood. I told her what little I remembered of my mother, and of my father and his teaching, of his sharing with me those things he loved, the beauties of the wilder world and the love of learning and of pleasure in the word.

"You loved it, and yet you left?"

"My father was killed, part of my home was in flames. Whether it was the house or the stables, I know not. I escaped, and they pursued."

"But you did get away."

"That I did, but only because my father had expected that day and had taught me well. Each possible route we might take, and what I must do if alone, where I must go."

"If you go back will they know you?"

"I think not. The name I shall use now is another name, and I shall return to the place from England. A few about may know the look of me, but the ones who know will never speak. There I shall go, and there I shall live."

She sat close to me in the darkness and told me of her Andes mountains, and of the far land beyond those mountains where she had lived, but she, too, mentioned no names. And it pleased me that she was wary, although she had others to protect, and I did not. At last she went away to lie near Conchita and to sleep. And I slept, too, awakening, s.h.i.+vering, in the first chill moments before the dawning.

Turley was awake also and he brought the canoe around. A dugout canoe it was, but good enough. We loaded into it what we required and pushed off. There was a soft rain falling and no great visibility, which was helpful in avoiding our enemies-or would be, if they appeared.

We held close to the southern sh.o.r.e of what was obviously a large sound, a place of only brackish water, affected by the tides and also by the fresh water flowing down from several rivers that rose somewhere far inland.

Turley sat in the bow, as it was he who knew the way, and Armand held the steering oar, guided by gestures from Turley. I sat amids.h.i.+ps, keeping my weapons dry under my blanket ... or so I hoped.

We had been moving an hour before day came, only a vague graying of the mist about us. We glided through the still water like a ghost boat, s.h.i.+elded or at least screened by the mistlike rain.

We had far to go. We crept from the swamp into open water, holding up for just a minute close against a wall of reeds to study the sound. All was still. We could see less than a hundred yards. Felipe and I now took up our paddles and the canoe moved forward, gaming speed. Water dripped from our paddles when we lifted them.

A huge old snag lifted suddenly from the water like the head of some primeval monster, and Turley's gestures guided us around it. Ahead there were patches of outlying reeds and we went between them.

We saw nothing, heard nothing but the occasional lonely cry of some gull overhead. The sky above was clearing. The rain ceased. Yet suddenly the sky was darkened again, and looking up, we saw an immense cloud of birds.

Turley looked around at me. "Pa.s.senger pigeons," he said. "The savages kill them for their oil. Knock 'em down with a long pole when they are roosting. I've seen 'em killed by the thousands. Good eatin', too."

"Turn in toward the sh.o.r.e," I said, "toward that lightning-struck pine."

We eased in toward sh.o.r.e. Stepping off to a log which lay half-in, half-out of the water, I told them, "I'll not be long!"

Swiftly I moved, holding to solid ground when I could find it until I was safely among the trees, mostly cypress and swamp gum mingled with a few pines. Walking the log again, I got back to the narrow, sandy islet where my boat had been hidden.

It was still there! A hasty check showed me that nothing had been changed. Taking in the painter, I shoved off with an oar, pus.h.i.+ng the boat back out of the narrow waterway in which it had been snugged down.

Once clear of the islet I settled the oars in place and pulled strongly, with a glance over my shoulder from time to time to maintain the proper heading.

Yet for all of that it was nearly an hour until I came alongside the canoe. The boxes were covered by a tarpaulin brought from the s.h.i.+p.

Despite the heavy load the boat carried there was plenty of room for the others. Silliman Turley got out and with Felipe's help got the canoe ash.o.r.e and turned bottom-up.

There was no sign of the big man or his followers, no evidence of Don Diego or Don Manuel. Yet I doubted I had seen the last of them and was eager to be away.

Once in the boat we wasted no time but hoisted our sail and moved off. Guadalupe came aft to sit by me in the stern where I held the tiller.

She indicated the tarp-covered mound in the boat's center. "What is it there?"

"Some food from the San Juan de Dios, some of my things and some of yours."

"Mine?"

"I was aboard the s.h.i.+p. I found some of your clothing so I bundled it up to bring to you."

"May I have it?"

"Not yet. I don't want to loosen that tarp, and the less moving around we do, the better."

A thought came to me. "Turley? There's several muskets under that canvas. They'd better be checked, but I left them charged. There's powder and shot there, too."

He dug under the canvas and got out the muskets. He looked them over with satisfaction. "All s.h.i.+pshape, Cap'n!" His eyes swept the horizon. Nothing in sight but the distant sh.o.r.e. "Where we headin' for?"

"South by a little west, right down the sound. There's an inlet runs through the bank there into a little cove behind Cape Lookout. That's where we're going."

After a bit I said, "It's a chance we have to take. The Good Catherine should be beating back up the coast by now. The skipper told me he sometimes used that cove to lie up in. Anyway, it's our best chance of sighting him."

Turley was quiet for a moment. "What we don't know was where the pirate s.h.i.+p is-if they are pirates."

The clouds were low and the wind held fair. Off to our left now we could see the long yellow line of the inner side of the bank that broke the force of the sea. It was a long, narrow island stretching away for how many miles I knew not, but fifty or sixty miles of which I knew. The Atlantic side was straight and smooth, offering no inlets, no pa.s.sages for most of its length. On the inner side facing toward the sound, the sh.o.r.e of the bank was broken by many small, sandy islets and shoals.

An hour pa.s.sed. I glanced at the sky. Only clouds, broken here and there now, showing patches of blue. We could not see the Atlantic across the dunes of the outer banks. Had a s.h.i.+p been there we would have missed it.

"Who were those men?" I asked suddenly, of Guadalupe. "How did they come upon you?"

"I know not. Suddenly they were all about us, and we had no chance. Yet they seemed to know who we were and where we had come from, and they addressed both Don Diego and Don Manuel by name. They said Don Manuel had a s.h.i.+p soon to be here."

"Aye, I heard them speak of that. The San Juan de Dios was never in danger of sinking. She had only made water, I do not know how, and somehow they managed to frighten Don Diego."

"He knows nothing of the sea. He is much thought of as an administrator, but he has crossed the sea but once and knows it not."

She watched the sea for a moment, then said, "There was one among them ... not much older than you, I think, who seemed a not bad man. He would have helped us had he been able, and I believe he intended to. He said their captain was interested only in money ... and power. They were all Englishmen, I believe."

The wind seemed to be picking up. I eased the tiller to bring us a little closer to the outer island. On the chart I had been shown the cove behind Cape Lookout and the narrow inlet that led to it from the sound. Turley glanced at the sky, and then at me. The clouds were building up and the southeastern sky had a yellow look that I did not like.

Turley and Armand were taking in sail. Suddenly Turley seemed to stop all movement, looking back over my head. "Sail, ho!" he yelled then.

Turning, I looked aft. A pinnace by the look of her, three masts, and a good s.h.i.+p under sail. She was crowding on all canvas, trying to overtake us.

Obviously she had come from behind one of the sh.o.r.e-side islands and was no more than a half-mile off and closing fast.

Another glance sh.o.r.eward told me we were coming up to the coastal banks and fast ... but none too fast. Yet the pinnace drew more water than we and would not dare, or so I hoped, follow us much further.

Guadalupe leaned closer to me. "Tatton," it was the first time she had called me that, "don't let them take me. Those men ... the way they looked at me and talked about me. I'd rather die."

"I won't," I replied grimly. "I'll see them all in h.e.l.l first."

My words were brave but the pinnace was coming on swiftly. When I glanced at them again they seemed to be making ready with a bow gun.

Yellow was the sand on the long isle eastward, yellow under the dull gray sky where the winds lurked. There was a distant flash of lightning and a roll of thunder, and I could hear the beat of the waves upon the outer sh.o.r.e. Salt spray spattered my face and from behind me I heard a dull boom that was not thunder, and then a whistling from overhead and a shot plunged into the sea some twenty yards beyond us-too close to give me pleasure.

An island, a small, sandy cay, loomed on our right. We slid behind it, with the outer bank closing on our left. I glanced back. The pinnace was coming on, although under shortened sail. There was a sh.o.r.eline ahead of us too, not much more than a mile away. The pinnace fired again, but again the shot pa.s.sed overhead.

"We will need the muskets," I said to Turley. He nodded. He had shortened sail because of the wind. Now, sheltered by the islands, he raised the sail again and we moved more swiftly. The gun boomed again, and again it was a miss, but closer, much closer.

"Cap'n?" Turley said.

I glanced around. The pinnace was hove to and lowering a boat. Men were getting into it.

Guadalupe said quietly, "I can fight, Tatton, and I can shoot. And I'd not mind shooting any of them, for they are a bad lot ... except for Tosti, that is."

Something within me stopped cold. "Who?" I said.

"Tosti," she replied. "Tosti Padget."

31.

That one who had been lying on the ground! No wonder he had seemed familiar! Tosti Padget here, and a pirate! Yet, why not? He had been drifting, at loose ends, with no destination in view. Yet, how had he come to this?

The wind had fallen, for we had glided into that narrow channel that led into the cove, and the sandbanks and trees on either side cut the force of the wind. Armand and Felipe were bending to the oars, but ours was a lost cause. Glancing back, I saw the s.h.i.+p's boat clearing the side of the pinnace with at least a dozen rowers.

Again I looked ahead. Turley was rowing also, but with a musket by his side. I recovered my own from beneath the tarp and looked to its charging. Then the pistols.

The wind touched my cheek, but it barely filled the canvas, helping us not enough. Mentally, I made the calculation, and if my judgment was correct we would reach the cove on the other side just about the time they came up with us.

Yet what had I to expect at that haven which we sought so desperately? Exactly nothing.

s.h.i.+ps used it for shelter from the storms, and one such seemed to be building, for the clouds were swelling into great ma.s.ses off to the southeast, and the wind blew in fitful, spiteful gusts. The Good Catherine had used this place ... but that she would be there was unlikely, or that she would take part in a fight that seemed to have nothing to do with her. Unfortunately, I had been given up for dead long since.

"Guadalupe," I said, "can you steer a boat?"

"I often have."

"Here, then. I think some shooting is in order." If the wars had taught me anything it was something of muskets. Beyond a hundred yards their aim was a chancy thing, yet it was worth a gamble, and with a little elevation ...

Putting my back against the boxes covered with the tarpaulin and settling myself down, I lifted the musket. "Lie down!" I told her.

She did as she was bade, as did Conchita, and I took a careful sight, then touched off my shot, tilting the gun to get proper elevation. I had no great confidence in the weapon, but my shot landed among them-although with what damage I knew not. Yet they fell off for a moment, and seemed none too anxious to provide me with a second chance.

My second was a clear miss, yet not by much, for it hit the gunwale and bounced off into the sea. Shooting at such a distance was unheard of, yet I had noticed the b.a.l.l.s carried further than expected although without accuracy. I deduced that given proper elevation, a ball would drop among them.

The pinnace itself was now coming, slowly, taking soundings as it came.

Suddenly we emerged into the cove, and wonder of wonders, a s.h.i.+p lay there at anchor.

It was the Good Catherine!

I stood up and whooped loud, waving my hat vigorously. But although somebody seemed to be watching us through a gla.s.s, I doubted they could see much. Spygla.s.ses were found on some s.h.i.+ps now, but few were of much value.

Turley shook loose the sail and we made for the Good Catherine. Heavy-laden as we were, we made but slow time and the boat from the pinnace closed in swiftly.