Had I visited here at any other time, I was sure I would have enjoyed this island of Jamaica, but there was no time to see more than the lush beauty of the place and some of the people. There was only time to think of keeping alive while I tried to end the trade that was ruining the lives of innocent girls. Slavery itself must end, although it was worldwide. At this time many Europeans were enslaved in North Africa and elsewhere. Africans were enslaved here, and slavery of one kind or another existed over much of the world. Even the poor of Europe lived lives but little different from those of slaves, and in many cases they were worse off. Slaves were at least fed and clothed by their masters, and the poor of Europe had no such care.
Finishing my meal and still alone in the room, I took time to recharge the saddle pistols that I had carried into the room in their scabbards, no unusual thing for travelers in that day and time.
The proprietor came in, glanced at the pistols. "You are a friend to Master Legare?"
"I am."
His manner warmed visibly. He was a stout man with a round, pinkish face and a fringe of red hair. "A good man," he said, "and a shrewd one, although his quiet manner leads some to misunderstand him."
"You know the pistols?"
He smiled. "And the horse. I saw you ride up." He glanced meaningly at the pistols. "There has been trouble?"
"The roads are unsafe everywhere," I commented. "It was nothing."
"There have been strangers about," he advised, "some of that scum from Port Royal, I think. You had best be on your guard."
"Aye," I got to my feet. "I shall be ready."
It was but six miles from Santiago de la Vega to the little cluster of huts and a fort that stood at the mouth of the Rio Cobre. "Leave the horse and the pistols with Senor Sandoval if you wish to ride there," the innkeeper advised. "I shall see them returned."
Dropping the guns into their scabbards, I mounted and turned the black horse down the trail toward Rio Cobre. Black people passed me, great bundles or baskets on their heads; most of them gave me greeting in their quiet voices. Several obviously knew the horse, and they looked from him to me, knowing I was a friend of Legare.
Where was Henry? For hours now I had seen nothing of him. A rider passed me going in the same direction. There was something familiar about his back and shoulders, yet nothing I could place. A moment later I heard horses behind me, and glancing back, saw two men riding together who were not over fifty yards behind.
Up ahead of me were several black people walking along the road with their bundles. A carriage coming toward me drew up and stopped, and a man got down from the driver's seat and went to the horses' heads and began adjusting something.
Glancing back, I saw that the two riders were now closer, not more than thirty yards back. The rider who had passed me had stopped and was talking to somebody in the waiting carriage.
It was a lonely stretch, yet by now we could be no more than three miles, perhaps a bit less, from the Rio Cobre. Then I noticed something else that I had not seen before. Just beyond the carriage two men sat beside the road sharing a bottle. A bundle lay on the bank beside one of them.
What was the matter with me? I was getting altogether too jumpy. I eased myself in the saddle, loosening one of the pistols a bit.
As I drew up to the carriage, the man standing beside it turned to look at me, and the man on the horse did, also. Both of them were smiling. The man on the horse gestured. "Something here to interest you, Captain."
"What?" I was startled and turned to look.
Diana! Diana Macklin, her face white and strained, and in the seat beside her, Joseph Pittingel.
"I thought you should see that we had her," he said, "before you die."
It was not a time for speech or for thinking, nor could I have thought fast enough. My heels slammed into the ribs of the black horse, and I leaped him straight at the rider, who was broadside to me, blocking the way.
My black was the larger horse and was driven by the leap; smashing into the other horse, it knocked it sprawling, its rider falling free. Turning the black on his hind legs, I grabbed at the door of the carriage, and it came open.
"Out! Out, Diana!"
Men were closing in. The two on the bank had leaped to their feet, but they had to come around the fallen horse, which was kicking and struggling. The man at the horse's head turned toward me, but I leaped the black at him, and springing back to avoid the lunge, he fell.
Diana had leaped from the carriage, leaving a part of her dress in Pittingel's frantically clutching hand. As I swung the horse once more, I dropped a hand to her, and she caught it, managing a toe in the stirrup as I swung her up. We leaped the horse past them, and I grabbed a pistol, firing at the first man before me. He staggered and went back; whether hit or not, I did not know.
Down the road before me were four men, spreading out now, obviously more of Pittingel's lot. I dropped the pistol into the holster and put the black up the bank. He went up, scrambling, barely reaching the top, then over and into the trees beyond. It was a wild tangle, no place to ride a horse, so we dropped from him and squirmed through the trees. I wished only to make the shore. We ran, fell, scrambled up, and ran again.
Behind us we heard shouts and curses, the loudest of them from Pittingel himself. "Get them, damn you!" he screamed. "Get them or I'll have you flayed!"
The jungle was thick. Underfoot there was mud. It was a tangle of creepers and vines. Turning at right angles, I led the way through what seemed to be an opening. I still held the remaining horse pistol, which was unfired. We moved quickly.
There was no chance to speak to Diana, only to escape if such we could do at all. Only my reflexes, trained by much trial and danger, had saved us, and now the moment was past, we had small chance. Even as we moved, I knew this. We were close to the water now. Suddenly we emerged upon a rocky, pebble-strewn shore. Beyond the bay lay Port Royal, and several fishermen's boats lay not far off, but to my wild waves they paid little attention.
Suddenly, far off, I glimpsed one. Surely that--I waved wildly. The boat seemed to fall still in the water, then turned abruptly toward us.
Waving, I gestured him on. Diana released my hand suddenly. "Kin, they are coming. It is too late."
Four men had come from the jungle, four men who immediately spread out and started for us. A dozen yards farther along another appeared and then another. My pistol came up, and they hesitated, then came on, and I threatened first one and then another with the pistol.
They were not fifteen yards away now, the closest of them. "Diana," I spoke softly, "you cannot help me, and your presence will make me protect two rather than just myself. Can you swim?"
"I can."
"Then swim out to him. Swim to the boat. It is Andrew, and I know him."
"All right."
She wasted no time in pleas or farewells but went down to the water's edge and stripped off her outer gown. Then she walked into the water.
There was a shout of rage from one of the men, and they started to run. Instantly I fired at the nearest. He threw up his arms and fell to the rocks. Throwing the pistol to make them dodge, I drew one of my own from my waistband. This they had not suspected, and they halted suddenly. They were close enough for me not to miss, and they knew it.
One of them drew a pistol, also. I suspected their orders had been to take us alive if possible but not to permit us to escape in any event. Behind me I could hear the chunking of the oar. I had two pistols of my own now that Legare's heavy horse pistols were gone, but I also had a sword.
Taking a step back on the slippery rocks, I drew the second pistol, holding one in either hand. The man with the pistol hesitated no longer but lifted his to take careful aim. That was all very well, but we who lived in the forest and must ever be ready for attack by the red men often had no time for such things. I shot from where my gun was held, and the man dropped his pistol and went to a knee. He started to grope for the fallen gun, and I fired again. Then, thrusting both guns back into my waistband, I drew my sword and backed into the water.