Barney's face was impassive. He wanted information. "Absolom, give Butler a tot of rum."
"Thank you, sir!" Butler was enthusiastic. He took the glass and cradled it in his hand.
"You may drink it, " Barney said with a smile.
Butler tossed it off, looked around at the three other officers hastily, and leaned forward and set the glass down on the table. "Thank you, sir," he repeated.
"Where did the 'Sybil' sail from, Butler?" Barney asked.
Butler blurted, "From Stasia, sir."
Barney refrained from looking at any of the three officers, and hoped devoutly they were not exchanging knowing glances. He said, "You took Stasia? When?"
"The day before yesterday, sir." Then he shifted uneasily.
"Considering your ordeal by fire and water, Butler, I'm going to allow you another tot of rum," Barney said. "First, I want you to tell me in your own words what happened at Stasia."
Butler hesitated. The temptation was too much, and he was too weary to refuse. Besides that, Barney was looking right at him. He said, "We took the island, easy, sir, except the Yanks were loose in Lower Town, and Jeez, what a mess, sir. The marines and them was tangled up in the taverns all day, throwing bottles."
"Drink your rum," Barney said.
"Thank you, sir!" Once more he drank it in a gulp, and set the glass down; once more he looked at Barney, as if to make sure he was really here, and alive. His eyes gleamed.
"Admiral Rodney is at Stasia?"
"Aye aye, sir, but Admiral Hood sailed. I saw the 'Barfleur' myself, sir."
"And the Americans on Stasia. Are there some still at liberty?"
"They say so, sir. They said three hundred or more."
Barney said, "All right, Butler. That's all."
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The rum had worked, Barney thought, as he wiped his mouth with his napkin and absently watched Absolom pour him a cup of coffee. Then he gestured to the rum. "Help yourselves, sirs," he said. "We have a night ahead of us."
But he didn't give them much time. He was on his feet himself. Suddenly his smile flashed out. "I must have been more engrossed than I thought," he said. "I'll be damned if we haven't left those British officers in the cable tier!"
He doubled the lookouts that night. Admiral Hood had sailed. It would have been useless to ask Butler Hood's destination; it was useless to ask the British officers. But Hood would have a whole fleet. The course had been set to windward of Stasia, giving the island a wide berth. During the night as much work as possible was done. The rising morning sun saw part of the crew holystoning decks already scrubbed but still stained; the gleaming white of new canvas contrasted with the old suit of sails. New spars had been placed, and running gear rereeved. But below the pumps still worked constantly, and even so there was two feet of water in the wells.
Macgregor and his crews worked on the gun carriages; the burial service was read and ten more men wrapped in hammocks slid over the side into a bluing and vast sea. There were more than a third of the crew wounded; some of them would not recover. The price of victory was high.
The English sailors had given their parole and worked side by side with the enemy, in dried-out clothes. Everyone moved methodically about the many tasks; they were all lucky to be alive, and unhurt. Jerrell wore his bandage with covert pride.
Barney was badly worried, but gave no outward sign of it. It had been a bitter battle and the effects were lasting throughout this day. The winning had been exciting; the battle itself sobering, and officers and crew responded first to one and then to the other. Macgregor, for instance, had lost his temper over a triviality, and had not Barney appeared immediately, an innocent man would have suffered. Macgregor cooled down, and remained cool. It seemed to Barney sometimes that Absolom was the most dependable of them all.
He was worried because of the known fact of the presence of Hood and his fleet. The "Athena" could not run fast from anything. Nor was there sanctuary near, nearer than Basseterre, on Guadeloupe, and that course would certainly bring him into contact
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with Rodney's cruisers out from Stasia. Whereas he could set his course now for Martinique, in more safety, and Martinique was where he wanted to be. If any man would know what had happened and what was happening at Stasia it would be the Governor of the French island, the Marquis de Bouille. Stasia itself, across the water, unseen, lured him, but he postponed thinking about it until he knew ail the facts. But Douglass would be safe; even though she was in English hands, no one would harm her.
But during the long day, only one sail was sighted. Barney supposed she was a merchantman because on their sighting, she had changed course and fled. He could not give chase; she might be an American vessel making for what she thought was the security of Stasia.
He was not one to waste time in regret. The blow he had expected had come. He had thought perhaps good could be wrested from it; Stasia was quite a pie, and once the British had their fingers in it, they would be occupied for some time counting their profits. It was such an immense capture they would have to give time and energies to holding onto it. The spy system on Stasia was so well established, and the methods used heretofore so devious, that Barney smiled when he thought of Rodney trying to stamp it out. And what would they do with all they had captured? Short of sitting there on it, they would be compelled to send it home to England or to other British islands. Anything that floated was to Barney already half his. As long as he was able to cruise.
In the first ten minutes of the first dogwatch, at eight minutes after four, Mt. Pelee was sighted. It was a hot day, with a fair wind, and a cloudless sky. Mt. Pelee beckoned. By morning they should be putting into Fort de France. Five minutes later a second call came from the lookouts; the call Barney had feared. It rang out over the ship.
"Sail-ho! Two points off the starboard bow!"
Scull snapped out an order to Jerrell, who dashed fore with a glass. From the masthead Jerrell bellowed down to deck.
"Four sail; five!" There was a pause. "Seven!" Then, "Three sail on the starboard quarter!"
Scull whirled to see Barney standing alongside of him. "There's hardly need to relay the message to me, Mr. Scull," Barney said laconically.
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He went fore, and began to climb to the foretopgallant masthead. Jerrell obligingly swung over and sat on a yardarm.
Barney swung the glass slowly. He said nothing. Jerrell blurted, "I can see ten, sir!"
Barney answered this. "Nineteen." There was no doubt about it; they had found Hood and his fleet. Hood was blockading Fort de France. Barney glued the glass to his eye. Why Fort de France? Why, indeed? De Bouille had said there were four frigates there, when he had sailed five days ago. Surely Hood wouldn't waste nineteen ships, blockading for four. Barney frowned. He swung the glass. Jerrell said, "I saw three on the st'b'd quarter, sir!"
The silence lengthened. Jerrell squirmed. Five minutes passed. Then Barney called down to deck. "Mr. Scull! Get the courses in!"
Jerrell leaned over to look way down to deck. The boatswain's voice floated up. "All shorten sail!"
Quite some time passed before Barney was sure of his fii-st surmise; what intelligences Hood had had were correct, then.
Barney said, "Mr. Jerrell, I'm going to leave you up here for thirty minutes with my glass." He handed it over as Jerrell swung back to the masthead. "Report to me in thirty minutes," he said.
He started down to deck. His mind raced ahead. Now he would be free to cruise! As soon as he could get the "Athena" ready for the sea again— His mind raced with plans. He gained the deck and went aft. Scull turned from the rail, glass in hand. Barney grinned.