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Celine was an expert sailor, and they got the masts up almost without a difficulty.  Shipping the rudder was the hardest he had to grip her round the waist while she plunged head-under several times before the pintles and gudgeons were engaged then they rested for a while, driving under poles.  With wind and sea astern it was more comfortable, and in the east the sky was lightening.  The clouds had retreated to pile above the land once more, and they both prayed for sun, and quickly, before they froze to death.  Best part was when she rooted in an after locker, to produce cold cured bacon and a brandy bottle, put there although she'd only guessed and hoped when the boats were readied earlier, in case of a disaster.  They ate like ravens, but drank sparingly, and that for warmth.  Typical free trade trick, she mouthed, holding up the spirit.  I would give my nose for a tin of good fresh water.

The yawl would carry half a main, when they decided time had come, and as they hoisted Will realised just what a weight there still was in the wind.  It had veered round to the north and was blasting clear and chill, and the sailing, for a time, he found exhilarating.  This troubled him, because there were many other things that he should think about, but he recognised his brain was tired almost beyond the point of reason.  The lift and surge of each passing roller, the juggling of mind and tiller to keep her on her course and safe from broaching, this was enough for him for the moment.  He could not even face steering in towards the land, bringing the sea from its comfortable set on to the beam, where he would have to fight or guard against the breaking tops. Celine slept, sitting head down in her cloak, and it occurred to him as in a dream that she would end in France if the boat kept on like this. With wind astern it did not chill them, and the sun climbed hot and naked so that he gently steamed.  He woke up with a dreadful jerk, as the yawl went into a broach.  But Celine had plucked the tiller from his hand, and she heaved it hard to windward.  She was smiling down at him.

"You are tired, you must sleep.  I'll wake you when we reach the Sussex beach."

"What?"

She was joking with him.  The thought had not occurred to Will.  The Sussex beach?  Where were they now?  How far?

Maybe she was not joking.  He stared at her but did not know.  He tried to take the tiller back but she pulled him forward so that she could have his place.  Will did not resist her strongly.  There was an emanation off her of command.

"It was something that your friend said.  Kershaw.  Whose body I tipped overboard.  Who was he, Will?"

"He was not my friend, he was... He was a spy, I think.  Do you think he put the lugger on deliberately?"

She shook her head.

"I do not know.  He knew the waters.  He told me your Captain Kaye had come on us because he saw an opportunity.  Some English lord had said he must take smugglers, so he needed an excuse.  He knew of us from his spies, other spies."  She laughed, briefly and not with enjoyment. "There are so many spies, aren't there?  You English love them very dearly.  He came on us, his very splendid cover.  And left your Samuel on the beach."

"But you are smugglers!  If his intention was protection of the breed, if he loves smugglers '

Her next laugh silenced him.  Celine shook her head.

"He does not love smugglers, he is part of them," she said.  "But only part of some of them, of course.  I thought that Mary had explained, maybe?  No?  No, Isa Bartram is a suspicious man.  Or perhaps she feared that it might hurt you.  It She stopped.  "No, we are smugglers, in our fashion, but Kaye does not stand to gain or lose by us, there is no business link, however tenuous.  He could attack us, kill us, capture us, the outcome would be all the same to him.  But those men on the beach, whom he was set on to knock down Well, suffice to say he did not want to do it.  Does not.  But could not, under any circumstance, admit.  He got word of us, we were convenient, a sacrifice.  Although their lordships, as I've said before, might not be so sanguine as to what he's wrought.

"Yes," she added, abruptly.  "I do think Mr.  Kershaw put us on the sands deliberately, out of some sense of duty I would guess, misguided duty, possibly.  He thought Kaye ought to do his duty also, at the very least to rescue Sam.  He thought from where we were, a rescue would be feasible. Do you tell me seriously you did not know this?  It is tonight the gangs are running to the Adur, it is tonight the link takes place.  Kaye could have done it, what you and he and this Navy lord agreed, but he used us as a blind, the timing fitted perfectly.  If I understood your Mr.  Kershaw right, he thought that you and he could, also.  At least could go and aid Sam on the beach.  It may be that we cannot make it, the beach is many leagues.  But do you tell me it was not what you intended?"

"What time is it?"  asked Will.  "How many leagues?"  And then, inconsequentially, "Bobby Beaumont, that was the lord.  Lord Wodderley."

"We should turn west," said Celine.  "The sun is past its peak, but with this wind I think there should be time enough.  The landing will not be till after dark, the boat is good, and we are good enough.  But you, Will, must get sleep."

He nodded, and his head was throbbing with dull pain.  How many days, he wondered, since he'd had a proper rest.  Oh many, many days.

"But you could sail to France."  He said it without thinking, the thought just came.  She nodded.

"I could, but then I won't.  You have to trust me, Will.  Remember Mary and the Bartrams, though.  I am not a business associate, but the links are strong, what good to me if I betrayed them?  They do not want this thing tonight to happen, that's how Sam and you were first involved. Was it not Sam's kinsman that they killed?"

Yes, true, thought Will.  Sam, at the worst, is there to watch, to spy out the participants.  God's blood, if he achieves it, and then we pick him off the beach, the job is done!  And if he's attacked, and I am there to help him That gave him pause, for in the boat he had no weapon.  But he believed that he did trust her, and somehow that gave him comfort.  She was, in truth, a most extraordinary maid.

"You can handle her alone?"  he asked, then humphed at his own stupidity.  "Pardon me.  Young women, as fine seamen, are unknown, almost, where I come from."

"You live at Petersfield," she said laconically.  "It is a long way from the sea.  I could sail a boat at six years old.  Before you go to sleep, sir, take the helm.  I need the bucket."

"But the bottom boards are dry."

"And I, sir, need the bucket.  Take the helm."

Dr.  Alarigold, whom Deborah had never seen before, saved her life that night.  After Will was dragged away from her she fought like an animal, but had no doubt at all that she would die.  The mob was overwhelming, fired up with lust for blood, but for her body also.  She received many blows from fists, and scratching tears from women's claws, but she was also bitten on both cheeks and on her neck, and her bosom was squeezed and torn.  Between her legs a stick was thrust, and hands, and had she gone down she would have died of crushing, rape, and suffocation.

He was a short, fat man with powdered face and powdered wig, and something of a dandy.  He was, to Deb, a face beyond the crowd, who stood out because he was flanked by three enormous flunkies holding burning brands as torches.  His mouth opened as he shouted, but that was lost within the general roar.  She lost sight of the face as someone tore a tuft from off her head and blinded her with pain.  A blow to her chest, and she was falling backwards, to the gutter and her death.  It stopped very shortly after that.  She hit the ground, and rolled and tried to spring on to her knees, then upright to face them, but her tormentors had pulled back.  Instead of bellies, fists and snarls, she had the yard in front of her, setts slippery in the glim. And this short, fat person with a garish face, and dandy clothes, and a pistol with silver chasing that he waved about without aggression, but to miraculous effect.  In thirty seconds she was bleeding there alone, except for her rescuer and his men.  In the shadows there were figures, but they did not stay to watch, they disappeared.