Выбрать главу

"Why are you so afraid of me, Douglass?" He locked her in a close embrace. For just a moment he looked down at her face and then his mouth closed over hers.

The kiss was long. Finally he released her lips.

"How was that?" he whispered.

His mouth was only an inch from hers. "Damned expert," she whispered back.

He grinned. She turned her head and he kissed the base of her throat. "Will you dream of me a little?"

"I'll try not to," said Douglass.

"Anyway, I'll enjoy my tea better tomorrow."

She laughed. "I will, too, Barney." She caught her breath and her lashes fell.

He set her away from him, but he kept her hand in his, and they went into the hall together, side by side. Even when Marston put Barney's cloak over his shoulders Barney kept hold of her hand.

He stood looking down at her. "As I said before, madam—" He smiled down at her suddenly.

"What, Barney?" she asked.

"There's a bad sou'easter blowing up." He kissed her hand. "Goodnight, Madam Harris."

Chapter 14

LUCIE WAKENED IN THE GREY DAWN. She sat up in bed; She heard footsteps. They were receding and she realized quickly that what she heard was the cook, Mrs. Simpson, going downstairs. Lucie got out of bed.

Her white cotton nightgown was long and full and ruffled around her wrists. The heavy auburn braids reached her waist. She went over to the window and looked out.

From her one window, she could see down into the kitchen garden ; the earth looked wet, brown and soggy. From here she could see

90

the edge of the stables, the beginning of the small orchard and the roof and chimney of the jutting kitchens.

The smoke from the chimney rose straight up. The branches of the trees were stiff and unmoving. And the storm which had beat down last night was over. Lucie knelt by her bed and said her morning prayer. She poured water in her basin and washed. Then she dressed hastily. She brushed her hair and coiled the great braids around her head. She made her bed. Then, carrying the used water, she made her silent way through the quiet house.

In the raftered kitchens, Mrs. Simpson was stirring cornbread in a huge bowl with a wooden spoon. Her helper had already put the draft on the fires in the stove. The kettle was beginning to sing; the coffee was beginning to bubble. Mrs. Simpson handed Lucie three eggshells. "Drop them in the pot, Lucie," she said, and smiled.

Lucie obeyed.

"It's a warm day," said the boy, her helper.

"What is your name?" Lucie asked him.

"John," he said. He picked up the poker and started to shake the grate.

"That don't need doing," Mrs. Simpson said. "You can go and fetch the cream. And bring me two slices of ham from the smokehouse." She handed him a shining knife, and he disappeared, after a last look at Lucie.

The warm morning air floated into the kitchen when he opened and closed the door.

"The day will be splendid," Lucie said, hardly getting the words out before they both heard the hammering noise in the distance. Mrs. Simpson stopped beating the cornbread and held her head on one side like a bird to listen.

"That'll be the front door!" She waved the spoon at Lucie.

Lucie jumped to her feet and ran. She struggled with the bolts as the pounding on the heavy oak continued from outside. When the last bolt slipped free, the door was caught by rude hands and flung open. A man stood there, whip in hand.

"Tell Mr. Harris," he said, "that a British frigate is aground up the Delaware other side of Chester!"

He swung up into the saddle, plying his whip before he got his other foot in the stirrup. "Ran aground in the storm," he shouted. "She's the 'Triton'!" He disappeared down High Street in a whirl of flying hoofs.

91

Lucie slammed the door shut, not bothering to lock it. She ran back through the hall and up the wide stairway. She knew which room was Mr. Joshua's. She had peeked into it yesterday. But when her flying steps carried her right to it, and the closed door faced her, her fingers dropped from the knob. She knocked gently instead.

Within the room Joshua was sleeping soundly. Lucie knocked again, louder, and there was no answer. She opened the door and ran over to the big bed.

Joshua was lying flat on his stomach. His face was turned away from her, and she looked down at the back of his tousled, short, clipped curly hair.

"Mr. Harris," she said.

Joshua rolled over and opened his eyes. He opened his eyes wider. Lucie said hastily:

"A man came. He said to tell you there is a British frigate around in the Delaware!"

Joshua sat up. "What?"

Lucie remembered. "Non!" she cried again. "Aground. Aground in the Delaware!"

"Jesus God," muttered Joshua. He leaped out of bed and started to get dressed. Lucie fled.

In less than two minutes he came into the kitchen, carrying his shirt and coat and a pair of boots. He dropped all three on the floor.

"Water," he said. "Boy, run and saddle a horse."

John disappeared again.

Lucie seized the kettle and half filled a basin. She mixed it with cold. While Joshua splashed and water flew in all directions the cook fetched a towel. Joshua used it hastily. He started to put on his shirt.

"That lazy bastard. Partridge," he muttered through his shirt.

He sat down to pull on his boots. "Lucie, get me my rifle. The third one on the rack."

Once more Lucie ran. She knew the gun room was right behind the hall. She had learned that this collection of firearms was his pride and joy. She seized the third weapon on the rack of rifles and ran back to the kitchen. He was standing at the open door, booted, while the boy led his horse.

Lucie thrust the rifle at him barrel first. "Votre arme de feu!"

Joshua grinned. He slung the weapon under his arm and gave her ^a swift pat on the backside. "Thank you," he said. He gained the

92

saddle, and the boy ran to open the gate. The cook joined Lucie on the back porch to watch. Lucie said:

"Mon Dieu, he rides magnificent!"

Mrs. Simpson wiped her hands on her apron. "Mr. Joshua is from Virginia," she said.

Joshua galloped in headlong haste straight down High Street the seven blocks to the river. At Second he had checked his horse for a moment, but then he was sure that Barney would be down at the wharf already. At the top of the steep hill that dropped down to the river's edge and the High Street wharves, he dismounted; the cobblestones were still wet. Halfway down he hitched his horse in front of a tavern and plunged through the melee of men already gathered and filling the wide street.

The State of Pennsylvania maintained a small fleet of thirteen rowgalleys for the defense of the Delaware. The largest of these was the brig "Montgomery," boasting twenty guns, manned by volunteers. Joshua was the marine officer of the "Montgomery." He saw that she was already warped up to the wharf. Then he saw Barney.

Barney was standing with Captain Read, of the "Montgomerv," and Captain Humphreys, of the privateer the "Black Prince." He was wearing the uniform he still had the right to wear. In his belt was the pair of boarding pistols that heralded action. Joshua slowed his pace as he approached them, to appear leisurely.

"Good morning, gentlemen," he said.

He heard the two other men answer him but his eyes swept them briefly before his blue ones met Barney's dark eyes. Barney said:

"The 'Triton,' 32."

"I believe," Joshua said casually, "that like Pallas Athena, she sprang full panoplied from the front of your head."

Barney grinned; the other two men look bewildered. Humphreys said: