"Red Beard shall find our new lands," said Dreamer. "If we escape the demons."
And all the time, Selena clung to John as if she'd never let go, and he clung to her, and stroked her hair and kissed her hands… for it was pure, shuddering relief that Dreamer wanted him safe and sound, and her too, and every seaman he could find. For Dreamer's one concern was to get his men back to their womenfolk, who it seemed were even now aboard a fleet of six ships anchored beyond Flint's archipelago. And then — this was the nonsensical part — once the Indians were off the island, they'd be safe from demons. That's what Dreamer was saying.
Silver looked at the fierce little man, jabbering and stamping, and his men beside themselves with excitement, their eyes rolling and teeth gnashing. The warriors were groaning and swaying, and wildly dangerous: one false word would set them off, butchering every man that wasn't one of them. It was uncanny. It made Silver's flesh creep.
And it was too much, too fast, for Silver to make sense of. And in particular he was struggling to make sense of Dreamer, who clearly knew something — but for the life of him Silver couldn't get a grasp on it, for he'd never met such a creature before.
"What bloody demons?" said Silver. "What the blasted hell are you talking about?"
"John!" said Israel Hands. "For Christ's sake, look — it's the bloody navy!"
"Navy?" said Long John. "Where?"
"There!" said Israel Hands.
"Shiver me timbers!"
Just visible, out to sea, about a mile from the mouth of the inlet was a big sloop. It was flying British colours.
"ALLLLLLL HANDS!" roared Silver. He shouted to rattle the t'gallant masthead, and even the birds in the trees fell silent. "Now then," he said, "we've to get aboard and under way this instant — and God help him as dawdles!" He turned to Dreamer. "How many men have you got?"
"One hundred, and half a hundred, and a little more."
"Well and good — Mr Hands!"
"Aye-aye, sir?"
"Take command of the beach. Man every boat you can, and get these buggers aboard — all of 'em — and tell Mr Joe to see 'em stowed wheresoever makes best sense. At the double, mind!" Silver looked at those few of Flint's men now standing under guard. "We need seamen, so I'll take them too. And as for the rest — " he looked at the faces peering from Sweet Anne and Hercules "- them buggers must take their chance along of Billy Bones and Ben Gunn, for we ain't got time to take all."
The job was done quickly, with five boats passing to and fro, and Dreamer sending out his swiftest runners to call in Cut-Feather and his men. Finally there were just two boats ashore, one pulling away, loaded with Patanq and seamen, and one with Silver and Dreamer climbing aboard, and Selena and Israel Hands waiting with four men at the oars.
"Is that all your people, Dreamer?" said Silver.
"It is all of them."
"So let's be gone!"
"Wait!" cried Dreamer. "Look!"
Five Patanq warriors were sprinting along the beach towards the boat. Dreamer stared at them, and said something in his own tongue. He said it sharp and amazed.
"What's that?" said Silver. "Who's them?"
"My trackers!" said Dreamer. "Sent to find Flint — "
"Flint? Where is he? Where is the bastard?"
But the five men were gasping and panting and throwing themselves at Dreamer's feet and pointing back towards the woods, and Dreamer was listening and nodding… and then he threw back his head and let out a cry that chilled the bones.
"What is it?" said Silver. "Shiver me timbers, what is it?"
"In! In!" said Dreamer, and the five Patanq leapt into the boat. "One-Leg," he said, eyes round in horror, "he had a boat! He has escaped! My dreams were true! I thought I had won, but I have lost… he goes to the women and children!"
Silver said nothing but grabbed Dreamer where he stood shaking and spouting, and hauled him into the boat.
"Get us aboard ship, Mr Hands," said Silver. "Buggered if I knows what's up his Indian arse, but it ain't nothing good, now, is it?"
"Dunno, Cap'n," said Israel Hands, "but never mind him — lookee there!"
"Oh, shite and corruption!" said Silver. It wasn't just one navy sloop. There were three of them. "Give way!" he cried. "Break your backs and sod him as slacks!"
And the seamen heaved and the boat shot forward, even as the Patanq huddled round Dreamer, wailing and gabbling in their own language, and totally ignoring the white men. And so they continued, even as Walrus was got under way, and out to sea to face her enemies. It took all Long John's talents to bring them under orders for what he planned to do next.
Lieutenant Heffer's head pounded as if it would burst. Here it was! This was it! Exactly what they'd been looking for! A big New England topsail schooner, just like Flint's. And it weren't showing no courtesy to a man-o'-war. Leaper, Bounder and Jumper were all flying King George's colours, and any honest merchantman coming upon them sudden, like this, would dip her colours and let fly her topsails. But this schooner flew no flags. She was pierced for fourteen guns, and she was coming on furiously, without the least intention of giving honours or heaving to.
"Flint!" cried Heffer. "We got the bastard, lads! Give a cheer and stand by to go alongside. We'll have his tripes for tow-ropes, lads!"
"Huzzah!" cried the Leaper's crew, all seventy-five of them, and the master at arms ran round issuing pistols and cutlasses to all those who hadn't already got them.
They were crackling with excitement. They'd got Flint! Three ships to his one! They'd board him, baste him and boil him! And he wasn't even trying to avoid them. He was coming on, bold as brass, and there wasn't a gob's chance on a griddle of him getting away.
Heffer leapt up into the main shrouds for a better look. With skill born of practice, he hooked a leg into the ratlines to cling on and leave his hands free for the glass.
Ah, he thought, as he scanned the decks of the schooner, there's hardly a bugger aboard! Instinctively he felt the pistols in his belt and the blade at his side. I'll do it! he thought. I'll board the sod, and clap Flint in irons. And all this, God willing, before Bounder and Jumper could join in and spoil the splendid completeness of his victory. And if that didn't end up with himself promoted, then God rot his soul!
The two vessels closed at speed, both on a good wind, on converging courses, and they slid diagonalwise, slanting together, with all hands cheering aboard Leaper and not a soul in sight aboard the schooner, other than a tall man with one leg standing beside his helmsman, and a few others in the rigging.
Leaper's maindeck fired, guns trained hard round on the bow, set to bear as soon as they might, and her shot howled and zoomed and some struck crunching into the schooner.
"Huzzah! Huzzah!" cried Leaper's people.
"Damnation and buggery!" cried Lieutenant Clark of Bounder and Lieutenant Comstock of Jumper, and they screamed at their bosuns to make better speed. Neither wanted to miss out. All that remained to be decided was the matter of who got most credit. Flint was done for. The noose was as good as encircling his neck.