That detail of troops marched through Upper Town and up to the mansion. The still unsuspecting people thought them English. So did the Governor. When the lieutenant told him politely, in his English voice, that he was a prisoner of war, the Governor didn't believe it.
"You are reinforcements for the island, that we sighted last night!"
"Exactly, Your Excellency," said the lieutenant. "But in French pay." He grinned. The prize money would be big.
And at that same time, Connor's other details had reached their objectives. The posts of Gloucester, Townsend, Fort George, had been manned by French troops; and the still sleeping English officers were routed out of their comfortable quarters in the various homes of Upper Town. Stasia had been recaptured.
Chapter 37
BARNEY GALLOPED UP THE STEEP ROAD, REACHED THE LEVEL AND pounded down past the waving sugar cane; through it was the road they had used this morning. He reached the low white house in a cloud of dust.
He raced up the steep steps.
The door was unlocked. He walked in. Then he waited a moment and listened. Hurling footsteps in the distance told him by their sound they were not hers. Barney said, "Madam Harris?" He took a step forward.
"Madam has gone, sir."
The two men looked at each other. Finally the Negro spoke. "How, sir? You are back?"
"We've recaptured Stasia—you are in French hands now. Where is Esther?"
"Madam took her."
"I see." Barney walked past the white-coated servant, into the bedroom, through it and out onto the balcony. He saw the rope.
He went over to it. He reached down and untied it; he hauled it up, coiling it neatly as he did so. When it was all in his hands he looked down at it.
Why had she left it there? He went through the bedroom again. The closet door was open and empty. The servant was still standing where Barney had left him.
"When did madam leave?"
"With the last convoy, sir. Four days ago."
Barney didn't say anything. He laid the rope down. He went out the door and closed it firmly behind him.
Halfway down the hill back to Upper Town, he reined in. She was gone, then. She was four days gone; she was somewhere on the high seas, and every French and American privateer knew the sailing time of that big convoy. Suddenly a vivid picture of her came into his mind and he could see her plainly—beautiful, willful and alone, in a convoy inadequately guarded.
The horse ambled to a stop. From here Barney could see into the
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harbor; he could see the "Athena"; she was putting out a boat, and it was for him. He urged the horse on again.
Joshua and de Bouille and the marquis were waiting for him, in a small room in the hospital. De Bouille was saying, "But of course I am recovered. I was going to be hanged tomorrow."
The marquis, who had remained unnerved by the three-hundred-foot climb up a swaying rope ladder, twitched his mustaches. "You are sure, Francois?"
"Sure I was going to be hanged? I've no reason to distrust the word of the English." De Bouille grinned.
"Non, non," the marquis said. "I meant—you want to go on with Barney, then?"
"The business in the Caribbean is done, my lord. The action moves to America."
"We descend on St. Kitts tomorrow, and Nevis the day after," the marquis said, as if to lure him.
"But I am a sailor, sir." De Bouille looked over at Barney. "Barney sails now. I recover completely aboard. The sea will cure me."
Barney smiled now. De Bouille said, "Where is de Grasse, sirs?"
Barney answered, "The fleet sailed for Cap Haitien."
"And that is where you go?"
"Yes," Barney said, "Lucie awaits Joshua there."
Joshua seemed lost in thought. Head bent, he was frowning a little. Then he looked up at the marquis. "I leave you, too, my lord. Again my deep gratitude for your care of Lucie."
"A pleasure, sir," the marquis said, a little sadly. He looked from one to the other. "I lose you all," he said. "I offer nothing but a few island invasions."
Barney said, "We'll be back, my lord." He got to his feet and started his pacing. "There's something brewing!" He spoke to de Bouille. "We know—Rodney is at Antigua now. He's split his forces. Hood has sailed for America. There's something brewing," he repeated, and Joshua felt the old excitement; he looked up. De Bouille squinted at Barney.
"Go on," he exclaimed.
"All I know is that the Comte de Grasse has asked me to meet him in Cap Haitien." Barney flung out his hands; then he grinned, pushing his cap back on his head. "The 'Athena's' ready."
The marquis stood, too. "And it is all done here. All done, and all
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ended well, thank God."' He turned to Barney. "Do not let Francois overdo yet, please. Order him to rest."
Joshua said, "We both will, m'lord, I promise you."
The marquis kissed Joshua on each cheek. "My warmest regards to your ma'moiselle. I wish you to be most happy."
"Thank you, m'lord," Joshua said.
The marquis next approached Barney. "This is my country's custom, to show affection," he said gravely, as he kissed Barney's cheek. "I wish you every success, sir."
"Thank you, m'lord." Barney said, too.
"And Francois." The marquis fixed him with a stern eye. De Bouille gave his father a quick hug. "You old rascal." he said. "Fll be back."
The marquis went to the door. The hot sun burned through the drooping trees. The white steeple of the church thrust up into the blue, blue sky. In the quiet he could hear the thunder of the surf on the beaches. He heard Joshua say, "For God's sake, lean on us." He and Barney had taken de Bouille by the arms. There was a carriage coming down the road.
It came nearer. The marquis stood in the doorway, watching. He saw Barney wave his hand at the carriage. "Avast there!" he shouted. "A coach for his lordship, varlet!"
The coachman reined in hastily, staring. Barney leaped for the door and flung it open. "Enter, my lord," he said, bowing deeply. The marquis heard them all laughing as the surprised coachman drove off with his three passengers. They waved out the window.
"Au revoir," they called. "Au revoir."
Chapter 38
THE BARGE OF THE COMTE DE GRASSE WAITED. BARNEY STEPPED IN, with de Bouille beside him. They were both silent.
The crew of the boat were magnificently uniformed. Commanders with money always maintained such a boat; Barney had himself, in Europe.
He was thoughtful, and de Bouille, sensing his preoccupation, did not speak, either. De Bouille didn't know what Barney was thinking
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about, but he himself was thinking of Lucie and how she looked in the little dim church just a few minutes ago. He heard again her words as he had kissed her. "François," she had said earnestly. "When the war is over, when it is all done, you must come! Promise me!"
"I will," he had said. "I promise." He looked out over the blue water, not seeing the brave fine ships riding at anchor. He felt almost well; weariness crept up on him quickly, but that would pass very soon. And he had had the honor to be attached to the Comte's ship. Still, he was leaving—he had said goodbye to Joshua, he and Lucie would leave soon for the States. Soon he would bid Barney goodbye, too. He caught Barney's eye.
Barney said, "It comes from being in a church." He grinned.
De Bouille said, "I'll miss the goddamn Yank. I speak better English now, n'est-ce pas?" He crossed his legs and leaned back.
"I was thinking how lovely Lucie looked; I was thinking—" Barney stopped. "I don't know what the devil I was thinking," he ended, but he knew. He was remembering a few brief words Joshua had said. Barney could hear every one of those words, delivered as only Joshua could deliver them. "It was both our faults, Barney," he had said. "Mine for sending her to Stasia; youre for allowing her to remain there. I should have looked after her better." He had paused. Then he went on. "And so should you. That sums it up, in my estimation."