and am but lately from the forest and am lacking in awareness of what is being worn.

'One thing only. A little on the conservative side? I am no fop.'

'Of course.' His vanity was pleased, I could see that, and I felt he would do me well. Yet I had other thoughts. 'In such a place as this,' I commented, 'I expect most of the talk is of piratical ventures, looting, slaving, and the like. Do you hear anything at all of outlying plantations? I would assume life on some of them is very refined.'

I was choosing my words with some care. My world in growing up had been one where English of the Elizabethan sort was well spoken, but growing older and in wilder lands, both Yance and I had become careless. Yet here I had another sort of impression to make, and Captain John Tilly was obviously a man of repute.

'On the contrary! Little that happens in the Indies is not known in Port Royal. Information, you know, is the foundation of piracy. I do not approve, but one does not voice such opinions here. I do not approve, and yet the successful pirates do not rely upon chance. They learn to know which vessels carry treasure of easily sold goods, and they seek them out.'

'Are they slavers?'

He shrugged. 'Very few. A slave ship can be smelled for miles, as a rule. Pirates avoid them. The cargo is difficult to handle, dangerous to carry, and offers far less profit than open piracy or privateering.'

'Not even white slaves?'

Was I mistaken, or was there a subtle change in his manner? 'I doubt if there are any such,' he replied.

'When a man begins to deal in human beings,' I commented, 'it would seem to me color would be a minor consideration.'

'You want three outfits, then?' He stood up and closed his book with a snap. 'Come, Charles, we must be off.'

He paused. 'The one suit I could deliver tomorrow if it is acceptable.'

'It would be a favor,' I said.

He lingered as Charles left. 'Slavery, of whatever color, is not a topic much discussed here. I would suggest avoiding it ... if you will permit.'

'Of course. I am a stranger, and I do not know what it is that concerns your citizens. In any event, I shall be here but a few days ... if I can find what I want.'

'The name is Jayne.' He hesitated. 'Augustus Jayne. If you have need of me, please call.'

When he was gone, I sat down near the window. Jayne might know something and might not, yet if he did not know, I believe he suspected.

The idea of seeking books to open a school was unusual enough and harmless seeming enough to enable them to pigeonhole me as a mere eccentric. Yet in all the loot taken from vessels of all countries, there must have been books, for many ship's officers carried them, and many brought along whole libraries when going to the colonies. Also, I suspected they were the least marketable of items.

The search might allow me admittance to many places otherwise closed to a stranger, even into homes on some of the outlying plantations.

Yet two days later I had learned nothing. Henry came and went, and several times I saw him with neatly dressed black men, most of them very black indeed, several with bloodshot eyes. They were maroons, down from the hills. They carried themselves proudly and went their own way, having little to do with either whites or the other blacks.

My clothes arrived, and I dressed, then stared at myself in the mirror. Accustomed as I was to the wearing of buckskin leggings and hunting coat, all fringed to let the rain off easier, I was startled to see what a fine spectacle I had become. Pleased yet displeased by the result.

A doublet of forest green, the sleeves slashed to show the linen shirt beneath, knee breeches of a somewhat deeper green that met high boots of Spanish leather. The collar of the doublet was covered with a band of rich lace of white. As I was staring at myself and wondering whether to admire or laugh, Captain Tilly knocked at the door, then entered. He paused a minute, looking me over carefully. 'You look quite the young gentleman, Kin. You are a strikingly handsome man, and that can be an advantage at times.'

'Thank you, captain. I like myself better in buckskins, but if this is the style, then I shall wear it, and if any laugh, they shall answer for it.'

'Aye, you being your father's son, I suspected as much, so I brought this.' He lifted the sword case he had by bis side. 'It is a good blade, one your father left aboard ship, and I rousted it from an old chest for you. Wear it in good health.'

The blade was a good one and came easily from its sheath. I stretched it, moved it, tried the balance. 'Aye! A handsome blade, although it has been years since I used one.'

'You have fenced?'

'With father, as I said, and Jeremy as well, with Kane O'Hara and with Sakim. They were reputed good, so I expect I have been well taught.'

'Be careful! There are fine swordsmen here and deadly fighters, although they favor the cutlass and the cut and slash method rather than parry and thrust.'

A thought came to me. 'My father had an old friend, one who chose not to stay in the mountains.'

'Jublain? Aye, a fine man and a fighter. I wonder now what has become of him. He went back to England, then to the Low Countries, I believe. He was never one to stay still, but a rover always. I heard somewhere that he'd gone out east, to the Moslem lands.'

We talked long, and then he returned to the Abigail, and I bedded down for the night, but I did not sleep. After a bit I got up, moved by some strange restlessness, and went again to my window. My room was in darkness, the street but dimly lit by reflected light, and a man stood on the corner across from the hotel. As I stood beside the window, I could see him but dimly, for he was in deep shadow. He stood there a moment, then crossed the street, going away. At once I knew him. Only one man was so large yet moved so easily.

Max Bauer!

Max Bauer here! Had he followed me? Or was it mere coincidence?

He had disappeared now, going away into the street below, yet I was sure he knew I was here. He might even know what room I was in.

And life was cheap here. No need to attempt murder himself, for it could be bought here for a few shillings or even a gallon of rum. Every second, every minute, I must be on guard. I must be aware and ready.

And I was ready.

Chapter XII

Dawn found me awake and, soon after, breakfasting in my room. There was much thinking to be done. Henry would be out, and I had great confidence in his chances of gaining information, for there were no secrets from the servants and slaves. Yet I could not depend upon him alone.

Augustus Jayne, the tailor, was another possibility, for tailors often visit homes, and there is little that escapes their eyes. Did he know something? Or was it merely my imagination? Certainly if a trade in white women existed, it was very much undercover, even here in this pirate port.

Looking out upon the street, I tried to find any possible lurker, anyone who might be placed there to watch for me, but saw no one who seemed to be lingering there.

Charles, the slave of Jayne. He would go most places Jayne would go, and if they traveled into the back country, he would eat with the servants of whomever they visited and would hear most of the backstairs gossip. Henry could talk to Charles.

One thing I had already noticed. The maroons, although few of them were about, were regarded with awe and respect by the other blacks. Perhaps because of some innate quality, perhaps because they had escaped, taken to the hills, and had set up their own world there.

The streets, when I emerged upon them, were crowded with bronzed and bearded seamen, some roughly clad as from the ships recently arrived, others bedecked in priceless gems and silks from the Far East. In the drinking shops they slammed handfuls of gold coins upon the table and called for rum. Often enough they were served in cups of gold or silver, sometimes set with gems, and aside from rum, easily the most popular of drinks, one might find wines from all the world there and the best of food.

They were a hardy, brutal lot, ready to use the knife or the fist, and stabbings were routine. If a dance were in progress, the music was not stopped for a killing; they simply danced around the body until that set was over.

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