Dirk stopped his pacing and wiped his hands on his threadbare breeches. "I can't let ye go it alone, Jerry. Ye'll swing from a gibbet all the sooner if I leave ye t' the mercies o' the world." He paused, and when he spoke again there was acute distress evident in his deep bass rumble. "But why must I act like I'm yer manservant? Why can't I make like I'm a friend o' this here Bartlett's, or "
"I've explained it twice, and I'll tell you once more," Jeremy said patiently, sitting upright. "Terence Bartlett was asked to make this voyage. The Duchess did not ask him to bring a friend so he'd not be lonesome." In order to spare Dirk's feelings he refrained from adding that the big man could under no circumstances pass as a gentleman and that he could logically participate in the ruse only in the guise of a servant.
"What about the feller who's workin' for the real Bartlett?" Dirk showed definite signs of weakening.
"Unfortunately, Hamilton will be detained." A trace of a smile appeared at the comer of Jeremy's mouth. "Terence Bartlett will be waited upon by someone else. Don't be so glum. Dirk. Just think of it—you'll be able to use your own name!'*
"Ye were speakin' o' this here feller Hamilton. Ye've told me how Sir Ian MacGregor had seen him afore t'night and that it was Hamilton presentin' ye t' Sir Ian made his high 'n' mightyship b'lieve ye really was Bartlett. How ye goin' t' slide around me a-bein' with ye 'stead o' this here Hamilton?"
Jeremy rose and waved a hand deprecatingly. "That will be the easiest of our problems. Dirk. I'll simply say that Hamilton considers himself too old and too delicate for a long sea voyage and a sojourn in wild tropical parts. I'll say that you've been in the service of my family for years, that I consider you completely trustworthy, and that you're accompanying me. There'll be no trouble on that score."
"Ah, but how d'ye know they'll let ye bring any kind o' servant with ye?" Thinking he had scored a point, Dirk's voice rose to a slightly higher pitch.
"I asked Lord Murray if I could bring my man with me. Or rather, I worded it in such a way that it seemed as though I assumed it. He agreed as a matter of course."
There was a moment's pause, then Dirk held out his hand. "There ain't none c'n argue around ye when ye have yer mind set, Jerry, and that's sure. I reckon I ain't a-goin' t' have much choice. So we'll be off t' foreign parts t'gether, ye in fancy clothes 'n' me in livery. I ain't for it, I'm dead set agin it, but I'll be with ye all the way. 'N' may the Lord have mercy on the both o' us,"
It was mid-morning when Jeremy, still wearing Terence Bartlett's clothes, and Dirk Friendly, uncomfortable in a suit of gray livery that looked skimpy on his tremendous frame, climbed the stairs of Van der Voort's Ordinary. The common room was deserted, and there were no sounds of activity anywhere. Jeremy covered two steps at a time and hummed softly under his breath, but his companion lagged some feet behind.
"Hold on there, Jerry. Not so fast," the big man grumbled. "These here hired breeches'll spHt sure as there's deer on this here island."
"Never mind, Dirk." Jeremy spoke over his shoulder without slackening his pace. "You'll be the best-dressed valet in the colonies when the tailor finishes your new clothes."
"Meantime this ain't the kind o' weather when a man ought to go showin' his rear end, Jerry. And I don't see why you're so all-fired anxious t' get us into this mess, anyways. Take another day t' think things over, 'n' by t'morrow mornin' you'll be right in the head again, mebbe."
Jeremy paused outside the door to Terence Bartlett's suite of rooms and turned to face his reluctant friend. "It's too late to back out now. Dirk. I accepted money from Lord Murray last night, and if I tried to turn back they could have me put under arrest. So—here we go. And remember, let me do the talking." Without further ado he rapped sharply on the door.
There was a long wait, then the sound of approaching footsteps sounded from within, and at last the door swung open. The sober face of Hamilton lighted when he saw Jeremy, and he bobbed his head in relief. "Master Stone!" he cried. "I've been worried, so worried I couldn't sleep last night, not all night. Did all go well? Did you see the Duchess? And you didn't commit Master Bartlett to anything that "
"This is no place to talk, Hamilton." Jeremy pushed into the little drawing room, Dirk at his heels. "Is your Master Bartlett up and able to receive giiests?"
Hopelessly Hamilton nodded toward a sodden figure in the chamber's biggest chair. Terence Bartlett, attired in a soiled dressing gown and shabby house boots, was slumped low in the seat, a jar of sack beside him and a vacant look in his eyes as he stared aimlessly into space. He grinned foolishly at Jeremy, took a quick gulp from the jar, and slouched even lower in his chair. Dirk kicked the door shut and smiled pleasantly at the drunken man.
"Jerry," he said happily, "it 'ppears t' me like this here one ain't a-goin' t' cause us no trouble at all."
"No one will cause us difficulties of any kind. Dirk. Just have a little faith." Jeremy was supremely confident as he transferred his attention to Terence Bartlett's manservant.
"Hamilton, we're hungry, as we've had no breakfast. I trust you have a pantry here in these rooms, and I hope it's stocked.''
"Y-yes, sir. There's a joint of beef and the better part of a leg of mutton in the pantry. And some bread and a loaf of good Dutch cheese. I—I could order a fowl from Mynheer van der Voort if you prefer, though the ordinary's kitchen usually doesn't open until dinnertime."
"No, no." Jeremy's attitude was lofty. "What you have on hand will suffice for the moment. Oh, and tell me, Hamilton. Is there enough wine on hand to satisfy the thirst of our friend yonder for the next few days?"
The servant's long face grew longer still. "His new supply of sack arrived from the vintner's only last week. Master Stone. But—but why do you ask? And why have you brought this— ah—person here this morning? And what took place last night when you went to see Her Grace?"
"You ask too many questions, Hamilton." Jeremy's voice lost some of its buoyant good humor. "Far too many questions. But I'll tell you this much—my man and I have decided to move in with you and your Master Bartlett for the next few days. We'll not inconvenience you in any way, and I'm sure our friend here won't mind. In fact, he won't even know we've been here if he can get enough spirits down his throat to keep it moist. And I intend to see to it that he suffers from no lack.''
"You—you can't, Master Stone!" Hamilton's face was white, and he twisted and untwisted his fingers in genuine anguish.
"Can't? That's a big word, Hamilton!"
"But it—it's against the law to force your way into someone's home. Master Bartlett hasn't invited you here as his guest. This is—it's brigandage, that's what. You're plotting some foul deed, Master Stone, and I won't permit you to do it!"
Dirk had been watching the servant from beneath half-closed lids. Now he strolled over to Hamilton, stretched out a tremendous hand, and grasped the other by the front of his black satin doublet. With no seeming effort he lifted the smaller man off the floor and held him in the air at the level of his own face. "Hamilton, m' lad," he said gently, "it looks like me 'n' ye have t' come to some kind o' understandin'. I work for this here Master Stone, 'n' what he says, that's how things happen. Now then, him 'n' me, we're a-movin' into this here cozy little place for a spell. Do what we tell ye t' do, keep yer lips shut 'n' try t' do no runnin' away or blabbin' t' folks about us bein' here, and everythin' will be fine. Stay right here with us 'n' keep us from gettin' lonesome, 'n' in a couple o' days ye'll be as healthy as ye be right now. If there's anythin' I hate t' do, it's t' go a-hurtin' a nice little feller that can't fight back. So mind yer manners, b'have proper 'n' stay put—'n' b'fore the week is out ye'll not set eyes on the likes o' us any more. Sure as Friendly is m' name 'n' m' nature, ye c'n depend on what I'm a-sayin'."