She knew of the room from Joshua; he had spoken of it and described it to her.
Absolom was confused. "But ma'am. The captain has gone to the theatre—I mean the cockfights, too, ma'am, and—"
"He may return." Douglass turned her eyes on him, and Absolom wilted.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll take you up. There's a fire lighted."
Douglass sighed, and made for the steps. She climbed slowly. Upstairs the same white panelling marked the pretty hall. In the room to her right again she saw indeed the fire was lighted; she could hear it crackling, and it threw a warm glow over the room.
"I shall light the lamps, ma'am," Absolom said.
Douglass watched the room come to life. As the light sprang up she saw the cushioned window seat, the round globe in its polished wooden frame. She saw his desk; on one wall were a pair of magnificent duelling pistols, and a gold-hilted sword. Next to them hung a barometer.
In front of the fire was his padded chair and stool, with his table beside it. And over the fireplace, the painting of the "Revenge." Douglass stared up at it, the white cliffs of Dover, and the "Revenge." Absolom was looking at her, and she turned to him. "I shall wait a few minutes."
He turned and left her. She did not even hear his "Yes, ma'am." But he was gone and she was alone in Barney's study.
Her fingers were icy. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She leaned over and picked up one of his pipes, and then set it down again. Once more she looked up at the "Revenge." Then she went over to the desk and opened the first drawer.
The papers rustled under her fingers. Charts; charts and legal papers. The second drawer yielded nothing but letters, and she closed that one hastily. She listened. The whole house was still.
Gradually her hands grew calmer. She searched through the two remaining drawers: nothing but more charts, writing paper, sealing
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wax. She closed the last drawer and stood up. Then determinedly, she picked up the biggest lamp.
She walked across the hall on tiptoe, and peered into the room directly opposite the study, across the hall. Within another fire burned, and thus this room must be his bedroom. She entered it.
She set the lamp down on the bedside table. It had one drawer, but there was nothing inside it at all. Once more she picked up the lamp, and crossed the room to the highboy, with the shadow following her. She listened again. There was no sound. So, one by one, she opened the drawers.
The highboy contained nothing but clothing. She shut the last drawer. At the foot of the bed was his sea chest.
She left the lamp on the highboy. Her red cape glowed like the fire in the fireplace. She looked down at the chest. Double bronze nailheads made an oval on its top, in which a B was scrolled. The nailheads rimmed the lid, and the bottom, and the whole chest glistened with polish. A bronze key, with a chain, was in the lock. Desperately she turned the key in its lock and lifted the lid.
Barney had already laid within it a few things that he wished to take. Charts of the Caribbean, marked and revised by his own hands, with the native names for small bays and coves. Douglass drew one out, and opened it, folded it and put it back again. She leafed through the charts, when a sound in the distance startled her. She knelt there, by the open chest, frozen. Had she heard voices and the tread of feet? She didn't move a muscle; she listened.
She had heard a voice. But it was outside. She breathed a little easier when suddenly she heard the sound of a door opening downstairs, and she heard the familiar voice say:
"Come in, gentlemen."
Douglass rose to her feet so quickly it seemed that the whole room tipped on one end. She stood there, paralyzed, not stirring. Downstairs she heard what seemed to be at least four different male voices; then there was a sudden quiet. She knew with certainty that Absolom was telling Barney a woman waited for him.
The silence ended abruptly. She heard a deep laugh. Then a voice said, and it was Gouverneur Morris, "You lucky dog. With this money shortage I'm going to have to find a wench who loves me for myself alone. Is she beautiful, Absolom?"
Absolom must have nodded. "Look at his eyes shine," another voice said; then Barney's cut through.
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"I'll be back in a few moments, sirs. Absolom, get the gentlemen something to drink."
"Don't hurry, Barney."
He was coming upstairs. The tread she had imagined when she had first entered the house was real now. In desperation she fled across the room to a white door and flung it open.
"Oh, lord," she whispered. It was a closet. She shut the door, her cape had slipped off one shoulder, and it fell to the floor, just as Barney came to stand on the threshold of the room.
"Barney," she whispered.
He towered there. His dark eyes looked back at her; his cloak swung from his shoulders; he was wearing his calf high boots. His dark eyes looked back at her, then they went to his open sea chest, to the single lamp burning on the highboy, and then they came back to her again, standing there in the middle of his bedroom, his gaze going slowly over her until it reached the cape on the floor.
He did not speak to her. He took one step and closed the door behind him, pushing it shut. The latch clicked.
His voice came at her. "And to what do I owe this pleasure, madam?" He unfastened his cloak and removed it, tossing it on his big fourposter bed.
She did not answer. He came toward her.
"I want the truth," he said.
"All right!" She looked right back at him now. "You shall have it!
"You know why I'm here!" She leaned over and picked up her cape, slinging it over her arm. She faced him again. "I didn't get what I came for! So you can go back to Judy now!"
"By Christ," Barney said, trying to control the rising wrath, "be careful! And answer my question!"
"I'll answer it!" Imitating him, she flung her own cape alongside of his on the bed. The filmy veil was still about her hair, and she drew it down over her bare shoulders, slowly. "I came for the code-books!"
The heavy muscles along his jaw set ominously as he forced himself to keep his hands off her until this wave of anger passed. "You know, English," he said, "my sea chest is my most personal possession, and you've had your little fingers in it. Wilful fingers, I should say." His voice was very low, and as he spoke he felt the hot anger being gradually controlled. His eyes went from her to the closed door to the smooth made-up bed.
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She was replying passionately. "Wilful hands, mine? What of yours? How you held those codebooks in front of me, challenging me with them? Didn't you know I would try to get them back? Didn't you know that when you did it, Captain Barney?" She threw the name at him.
He approached her slowly,
"Had you been in my place, you would have tried!"
"I?" He looked down at her and there was the vestige of the old smile on his face. "Do you imitate the crude rough Yankee, now?" His fingers closed around her slender wrist, tightening, and he lifted her hand and put it against his chest. "Here are the codebooks," he said.
Her grey eyes blazed; he looked at the rise and fall of her breast. He added, "Want them?"
She tried to wrench her hand away. "Ah, I hate you, Barney," she whispered. "You flaunt them—you, the victor. Well, that's done, Barney. You won."
"Yes."
She turned away, forgetting the fingers pressing her hand; she turned, and was brought up short by those strong fingers.
She asked wildly, "Then why don't you go on to the theatre now?"