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He paused, then continued:

"Douglass," he said, "Robert Morris' turtle sails on the 'Falcon.' "

She turned slowly to look at him.

"We captured the 'Falcon' this morning. Will you write and tell your cousin's cousin I'm sorry?" He grinned. "Tell me, Douglass, do you have any money?"

She lowered her lashes. "No." Then she said, "You took the 'Falcon'?" She watched him. "Truly?"

He nodded. "I'm afraid you're fair game, and on Stasia, too. You came straight to the pirate's lair. I even have a den to carry you to."

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She raised her eyes. "Don't joke, Barney."

"I have a house at White Cliffs," he said. "I'm going to take you there tonight."

"You can't," she whispered.

He said, "I shall never forget the way you looked at me when you came down those steps at Bladen's Court, Douglass. You were asking me to let you go; you were asking me to keep you with me. Let's get it straight, ma'am. Here on Stasia the same situation has developed, and this time I'm not going to let you go. Listen to me a moment."

She didn't answer and he looked over at her. "I must see the Governor now, to persuade him we did not violate Dutch neutrality." There was another cogent reason, but he didn't tell her. "After that I have a little business to transact. At seven, then, I'll call for you and take you to the reception tonight; we must put in an appearance."

She had drawn away from him, and she seemed to be regarding the field of sugar cane that stretched along the road.

"It's the Governor's birthday," Barney continued. "The Dutch put a lot of store in birthdays. I want you to look your most beautiful tonight. I suggest you have a siesta, too."

Out the window she could see the spreading lawns of the Governor's home. She felt the strong clasp of his fingers over hers.

His voice came again. "Do you know what a siesta is, ma'am? It's a nice long nap."

They were swinging quickly toward the pillared mansion, up the long drive. Three carriages stood in the crushed stone oval; liveried slaves flanked the wide white doors. The chair was set down, its door opened.

Barney got out and drew her with him.

One of his two men, jersey damp with sweat, reached in and retrieved the box.

"His lordship, sir," he said.

"I'll take him in. Wolf," Barney said, digging in his pocket and bringing out a roll of notes. He thought that not only had Wolf had unexpected labor in carrying this chair, but precious minutes of his leave had been expended. Barney gave him two five-pound notes.

"One for each, Wolf," he said. "It's a long climb."

"Jeez," Wolf said, touching his cap. "Thank you, sir."

Barney took Douglass' arm and guided her through the big doors.

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Within, the wide hall stretched and another pair of latticed doors opened for them.

Barney said, "Which way is your room?" He was carrying the turtle under one arm.

"This way," said Douglass, very low, her steps beginning to slow; her heels tap-tapping on the polished inlaid floors. Closed white doors were passed, then another pair. "Here," said Douglass.

Barney reached down and opened the door. Within the room it was dusky, for the blinds were drawn against the noonday sun. Barney said, "Goodbye, then. But don't try running away."

He was smiling, and she looked up at him with her wide eyes.

"Don't try it," he continued. "I'll sail in pursuit."

"Would you, Barney?" she whispered.

He nodded. He took her in his arms. "What do you want, sweetheart?" he asked. "I'll give you the whole damned world. What do you want?"

"Nothing but you," she said. She leaned back in his arms. "Don't bring me anything!" She felt his arms tighten. He kissed her, her eyes, her cheek, her lips. Then quickly he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed and laid her down. He straightened and stood over her, looking down. "I warn you," he said.

With a sudden movement, she rolled over on her stomach, putting her head in the pillows.

"You'd better get some sleep now."

He turned around, picked up Lord Sandwich, and opened the door. From the bed she was watching him. "Goodbye, sweetheart," he said.

Chapter 23

WHAT I CAN’T UNDERSTAND, BARNEY, THE GOVERNOR SAID, IS that the British captain hasn't put in an appearance."

The Governor, Count de Graaf, was standing in the center of his big study. He was short and powerfully built, with blue eyes and an almost bald head hidden under an elaborate wig.

"Well, I'll explain that, m'lord," said Barney, smiling wickedly.

"He didn't want to give me his parole before six o'clock."

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"You bastard," said de Graaf.

"It must be a new rule in the British merchant marine," said Barney. "Odd, isn't it?"

"Very," said de Graaf, grinning. "What's in the box, Captain?"

"Happy birthday from Lord Sandwich," Barney said. "Lord Sandwich wants you to have this turtle, that was going to be a gift to him. Not wanting to depend on his lordship's generosity too much, I intercepted it for you."

De Graaf laughed. Barney lifted the hinged door and the turtle stuck its head out and stared. The spectacle amused de Graaf; the turtle eased out and onto the polished floor. "Lord Sandwich," de Graaf read. He chuckled. "You crazy Yank," he said. "I'll eat him with relish."

"I captured Lord North, too," Barney said. "I'm sending him to Morris. I thought you'd prefer the lord of the Admiralty. Hold the box, m'lord, while I shove him from the rear. You should have seen him bite one of my officers this morning. I came out on deck to complain and found turtles." He snapped the door to, and stood up. De Graaf still looked amused, and Barney was most satisfied with this gift. De Graaf was so enormously wealthy that it was almost impossible to bring him anything.

"I think I'll postpone eating him for a while," de Graaf said. "We will have a tank built for him in the gardens and show him off. Now sit down, Barney, while I give you hell."

Barney sat down; de Graaf went back behind his desk. He picked up an inlaid gold paperweight and banged it slowly on the desk. "This island," he said slowly, "is not dubbed the Golden Rock for nothing, Barney. It's worth its weight in gold, like this." He lifted the weight and set it down. "I will give you one figure, of which you are perhaps unaware. The rent on the warehouses—the rent alone—is bringing in one million, two hundred thousand pounds sterling per annum. In the history of the world there has never been a trading port like Stasia."

"Granted, m'lord," Barney said. "That is why I would look to its fortifications."

"What?" asked de Graaf. He paid no attention. "The beaches are piled high with tobacco, rum, sugar, cannon balls. All your American correspondence goes through Stasia. Where would you trade if it weren't for Stasia? At all costs, Barney, its neutrality must be protected!"

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"True, m'lord."

"Will you have a pipe?" de Graaf said absently, picking up a long clay pipe and beginning to fill it. Barney rose and picked out a pipe, scooping up some tobacco from the open jar.

De Graaf put the unlit pipe in his mouth. "We certainly do not need to talk about the value of Stasia to the American war."

"No," said Barney. "But I would like to talk about Fort Amsterdam."

De Graaf frowned. "Well?"

"I passed it today. The guns stick out through masses of prickly pears. Visibility from the fort is, I should imagine, about five yards. You've allowed houses to jam in around it. More than that, the cliff wall is crumbling. If you fired one of the twenty-two-pounders, its recoil would send it dashing down the side of the cliff into Lower Town."

De Graaf lighted his pipe. "We are neutral. We don't need guns."