“What’ll you do now, after you leave us off at Leauchaud?” he asked. “Sign on with the Brethren? Or set up shop as an obeah man?”
Sejanus raised an eyebrow. “No reason I can’t do both, is there? The one’s a good way to finance the other, seems to me. But I won’t be serving the orishas. I’m no houngan; I have other things to do.”
“You don’t believe in ’em?” John stopped work and stared at him. “After what happened the other night?”
“Chah! Of course I believe in them. Not impressed. Didn’t you hear ’em, all pushing and shoving to talk through one poor little old white man? They’re weak; this isn’t their country. But it’s mine.” Sejanus looked out on the Caribbean. “I’ll have to imagine something new. Buy myself a fancy coat, maybe, to go with my hat, and a walking stick to impress folk. Deal a little in the old tricks. Good luck charms, poppets for barren women, fortunetelling, just to build a reputation, you see?
“Get a new religion going, then. Tell blacks: doesn’t matter if your bones don’t lie in Africa. You won’t be cold and lonely in the dark here, once you die; somebody’s going to look after you. You’ll be dancing and drinking good rum, and eating sweet cake!
“And if I can make them believe it, truly believe it, then it’ll be so. That’s how religion works, friend.”
Once upon a time John might have laughed at him, or told him he was a liar. But John thought back on the things he’d seen and done here, in the West Indies, since he’d escaped from the cane fields and gone on the account. On sober consideration, he just grunted and shook his head.
“Hope you get away with it, mate.”
They worked on in silence a while, loading in gear and fastening it down. John retrieved the swivel gun from the salvage-pile and looked at it fondly. He had cleaned and scoured it out with sand, and greased it well with goat fat, and greased up the sack of one-pound balls too.
“Reckon we ought to mount it on the stern, just in case?” he said. Sejanus eyed him.
“You’re precious fond of that gun, for a man who’s going to quit the Brethren and become an honest bricklayer.”
“Well, it handles prettily,” said John. “And you never can tell what sort of bastards are going to come sailing up astern, can you?”
“Just like all those cutlasses you’re stowing away will be useful opening coconuts,” said Sejanus. “And the pistol and balls be useful for shooting seagulls, eh?”
“Old habits die hard,” said John. Mr. Tudeley came trudging up.
“I have here thirty-six coconuts,” he announced in a martyred voice. “And I’m going to go recline in the shade and drink rum now, and if you attempt to stop me, sir, I shall run a cutlass through your damned liver.”
“Peace, Wint,” said Sejanus. “Don’t see why we mayn’t stop work for today, anyhow. We can finish up in the morning.”
“I reckon so,” said John. He heaved his sea chest in over the side of the pinnace and dusted his hands.
They went together up the trail they’d worn through the sea-grape, single file. John came over the crest of the ridge and looked down into the camp. He frowned in puzzlement. He looked out at the horizon. The others slammed into him, as into a wall.
“Damn you, sir!” said Mr. Tudeley. John ignored him and ran down the hill through the camp, which was in disarray, and jumped the palisadoes and kept going down to the beach, which was crossed with many pairs of footprints, and splashed out into the surf to gaze after the black sloop, which was halfway to the horizon.
SEVENTEEN:
Pursuit
“BLEEDING JESUS, SHE BEEN kidnapped,” John muttered. He backed out of the surf, thinking all the while of his share of the four thousand pounds, and feeling mean and small to be so mercenary, but there it was. He turned to the others. “We have to go after her!”
“Ha! I expect the lady will vigorously defend herself,” said Mr. Tudeley, but on seeing John’s face, Sejanus grabbed him and turned him around.
“Don’t argue, Wint. A gentleman always helps a lady in distress, eh? Come on!”
They ran back up and over the island. By the time they got to the pinnace John was in such a rage that he seized its stern and launched it himself, shoving it down the shingle beach as though it was a toy boat. The others splashed through the shallows and vaulted in over the gunwales as he was setting the sail.
“You take the tiller,” John told Sejanus. “And you can sit down and keep your bloody mouth shut if you ain’t got anything helpful to say!”
“Quite,” said Mr. Tudeley. “I don’t suppose we remembered the rum?”
John turned from him, snarling. For the next few minutes he was very busy handling the sail, but at last they came around the end of the island and spotted the black sloop, now nearly hull-down on the horizon.
John ranted and swore, until they picked up a favorable breeze and the pinnace shot forward, racing over the swells. The water broke fair and white on the prow, whispered along the hull and creamed out into a cleft wake. He thought of Mrs. Waverly’s white thighs, at least her thighs as he’d imagined them, and how he might never see them in the flesh now. He thought of two thousand pounds in gold, and how Mrs. Waverly was the only person with any idea where Tom had hidden it, and how there’d be no way to recover the loot should anything untoward happen to her.
The pinnace proved more than seaworthy; she was swift. They arrowed along after the sloop, keeping her in sight, and steadily over the hours crept up on her.
“Who do you suppose they are?” said Mr. Tudeley, at last.
“Kidnappers, who d’you think?” John growled. He had been straining to make out details on the craft, and could see no flag.
“They don’t seem in much of a hurry to run away from us,” said Sejanus, shading his eyes with his hand. “Not much sail set. Good thing, too; she looks as though she could cut through the water pretty fast, if she had a mind to.”
“She does indeed,” said Mr. Tudeley. “I expect they don’t know we’re after them.”
“That would be handy,” said Sejanus.
Mr. Tudeley lifted the flap of a canvas bundle, and looked down at the cutlasses John had stowed there that afternoon. “Upon my word, Mr. James, you’ve armed us well. Just the sort of things one would need for a daring rescue.”
“Didn’t know I’d need ’em though, did I?” said John, squinting over his shoulder at the low red sun. “Damn! It’ll be night soon.”
Mr. Tudeley looked thoughtfully after the sloop. “I wonder how many fellows are on board?”
“Wouldn’t take many to carry off one woman,” said John. “The bastards!”
“They probably came ashore for to get water,” said Sejanus, rubbing his chin. “Funny we didn’t hear any screaming for help, or anything.”
“Isn’t it?” Mr. Tudeley gave him a significant look. “Perhaps they weren’t pirates. Perhaps it’s a trading vessel.”
“With cargo on board? Hmm.”
“Rum, perhaps.” Mr. Tudeley licked his lips. “I wonder how well they’re armed?”
“Shame we had to leave the boat behind,” said Sejanus. “Hope we don’t spring a leak. I’ll bet that sloop doesn’t leak. It looks fine and seaworthy.”
“So it does,” said Mr. Tudeley.
“What are you lot babbling about?” demanded John in exasperation.
“Not much,” said Sejanus, poking the sack of one-pound balls. “Look behind you, Wint. I think you’re leaning on a powder keg, aren’t you?”
“I am indeed,” said Mr. Tudeley. “And here’s a coil of slow-match. I wonder if one might start a little blaze in, say, a coconut shell like this one? If one packed in a bit of tinder. Here are wood chips aplenty, under the thwarts. They’d smolder nicely.”