slipped into the cottage to rescue her true love. Keen, however, interpreted the remark as a juvenile diversionary tactic, and so was nearly caught off guard when sweet Jane lunged at him with a large and heavy tree branch.
Nearly was not good enough, unfortunately. Keen leaped aside and tripped the girl, then swung and ducked van Clynne's second hatchet. 'Tie him up,' the doctor ordered Jane, pointing his gun. 'And be quick about it.' 'I would sooner die,' she replied. 'Then I will kill you both,' promised Keen. 'Please, Jane, if you value our love, do as he says. I will gladly forfeit my life for yours.' What bravery from the mouth of a Dutchman! What sentiments of love!
And surely the sentiment was heartfelt and genuine — though it should be noted for scientific accuracy that van Clynne had spotted a familiar shadow approaching through the darkness behind Keen. Sweet Jane bent her head, and with a tear in her eye took the rope the doctor tossed her.
'Tut, tut, my dear. We shall be together for all eternity,' said van Clynne bravely. 'This is but a momentary nuisance.'
'Prepare to meet your maker,' said Keen, in a voice at once so evil and dramatic that Shakespeare would have taken him for Burbage.
'It is you who should prepare yourself,' said Lieutenant Colonel Jake Gibbs, kicking away the short piece of smoldering wall that had covered his approach. 'I would think the odds much higher of my rifle bullet finding you than your bullets hitting my friend.'
So many events were crammed into the next second and a half that it would take several days — indeed, an entire trip from Westchester to Albany — to unravel them properly.
Jake had enlisted a company of American dragoons to assist him; mustered upwind on the hill leading to the roadway, they suddenly flashed their weapons and charged toward the ruins.
Van Clynne grabbed sweet Jane in his arms and dove with her to the ground.
Jake shot square at Keen, and swore later he hit him in the side.
Keen fired, but not at van Clynne or at Jake, nor at any of the soldiers for that matter. Instead he hit a specially prepared barrel, which exploded instantly, sending a dark powder into the air that doused the flickering phosphorous and blocked the stars and dim moon overhead.
Shouts, gunfire, screams — all mixed in the confused air. Jake grabbed a body he thought was the doctor's. Immediately a sweet odor filled his nose, somehow defeating the cotton he had placed there as a precaution against such tricks. He felt his grip inexplicably weaken. The mounted soldiers fell upon each other in the darkness. Horses wailed, a woman wept; by the time fires were lit and the smoke cleared, Keen and his carriage were gone.
Chapter Forty-eight
Jake found Rose on the ground near where the carriage had been, Keen obviously calculating that his escape would be easier if he did not carry her along. The patriot took her into his arms and brought her to the cottage while the dragoons recovered themselves and set out after the doctor. Even as they mounted their horses, Jake knew the odds were greatly against them — but he also sensed that eventually he would meet Keen again.
While the patriot spy searched through the remains of Keen's drug jars for something that might bring her around, Rose came to on her own, slowly opening one eye and then the other as the effects of Keen's potion wore off. But rather than leaping up, she closed both eyes and waited for her hero to return with a small bottle of smelling salts.
He lifted her head gently into his lap, smoothed her curls back, then waved the blue glass beneath her nose. Despite her resolve to enjoy this sweet pillow as long as possible, she immediately began coughing. 'There we go,' said Jake, lifting her up and standing beside her. 'Are you all right?' His question was answered by a swift and strong hug. 'Thank God you rescued me,' she said, underlining her gratitude with a series of kisses.
'You're welcome,' said Jake, returning the favor. He indulged himself a while longer — surely there are rewards no man can ignore.
Van Clynne's harrumphs eventually interrupted him. ' I played a role in your rescue as well,' he pointed out with great dignity.
Rose, after a nod from sweet Jane, gave the Dutchman a polite buss on the chin, then turned back to Jake, looping her arm in his.
'Robert will be happy to hear you're safe,' said Jane. Her voice was not quite pointed, but there was no mistaking her meaning.
'Robert,' said Rose, clinging to Jake.
'Yes, Robert,' said the patriot, who nonetheless let her cling a little longer before gently freeing his arm. 'He's quite lucky to be marrying a brave young woman like you.'
'But — '
The patriot spy could not resist silencing her protest with a deep — and, dare we suggest, wistful? — kiss.
Several hours later, the patriot spy and his Dutch companion were once more on the road, the sun urging toward dawn and van Clynne deep into his favorite habit of complaint.
'And so, had his show included some such surprise as flying arrows entering my head, you would have let it continue for your amusement.'
'Now, now, Claus, I had to wait until the dragoons were in position. You seemed to have things well under control.'
'I should have liked to hear your opinion, were the roles reversed.'
'They were on the Richmond. I had a rope around my neck the entire time you were aboard. You claimed I was never in any danger.'
'It was an English rope, sir, and they are notoriously inferior. I have seen a man hanged for three hours before finally giving up the ghost.'
'There's a consolation.'
'I, on the other hand, faced down the most despicable criminal in all of Christendom,' said the Dutchman, still working to shape the narrative of his adventures — and much more importantly, the writ to have his property returned. 'I did so single-handedly and without fear.'
'No fear at all?'
'Sir, the Dutch are different than other races. We are not constitutionally given to fear. Something in our blood prevents it.' The Dutchman's horse — the gelding had been retrieved from the inn where van Clynne had first met Keen — gave a whinny, whether in wonderment or agreement, who could say?
'I thought Keen and his leeches took all your blood,' said Jake.
'He endeavored to, sir, but he had not counted on the Dutch physique. It is a finely tuned, resourceful engine. The Romans found this out when they tried to take us over in the days before Christ.' 'Your country was occupied for a thousand years.' Van Clynne suddenly stopped his horse dead on the roadway. His face turned white, and his manner sickly. 'Claus?' 'I have completely forgotten! I have the pox!' 'The pox?'
The Dutchman slumped on his horse like a dead man. 'My soldiers were infected with it. I must have caught it. I ignored the danger of my disease to fight for my country, and now surely I have caught my death.'
'What soldiers were infected?'
'Private Martin and the others. I found them in isolation. Poor sweet Jane will be left a widow, before she has even married! If I didn't infect her at the cottage with my kisses!' 'If the soldiers were inoculated, they're not infectious. The germs are too weak. You haven't caught anything.' The Dutchman gave his companion a wary look. 'I know my business,' said Jake, shaking his horse's reins. 'I did not spend every day at school whoring.'
'I was merely testing your knowledge,' said van Clynne, resuming his former posture and urging his mount forward. 'There are so many quacks in the world today, one can never be sure of another's credentials. Henceforth, I shall refer to you as Dr. Gibbs.'
