The Golden Flask

the existence of ghosts.

The first redcoat dove straight into the water, gun and all. One of the men in the boat followed suit, leaving only a single marine to confront the apparition.

'I don't know who you are, rebel,' said the man as Jake closed the distance between them to ten feet. 'But I'll kill you where you stand, I promise.'

'Attempt it,' suggested Jake, bringing the gun up in his right hand as he continued forward. 'You have already done so once.'

Just as Jake decided he was close enough to fire, a new ghost began flying downward from the beach. This ghost was straight from hell, its horns pointed and tail flying behind it. The soldier dove straight backwards into the water and began flailing towards his companions.

Jake fell to his knees laughing as Alison ran up behind him, her dress and scarf fluttering in the wind. He was so grateful at this easy victory — and so used to her behavior by now — that he did not even bother to scold her for disobeying his orders.

A few minutes later, the patriots and their pirate guide had pushed the large boat into the water and begun heading away from the prison ships. Their progress was slow and the hour was now far advanced. Jake realized they must head straight to the dueling site, and even then might not make it in time.

'Their guilt was in our favor,' Jake said, standing guard in the bow with the gun. The old pirate strained against the oars. 'You cannot go day by day and see the horrors on the

Jersey

without it affecting you in some way.'

'They were cowards,' said Alison firmly. 'All the British are.'

'Not all of them,' said Jake. 'The war would have been over before it began if that were true.'

'I would not say, sir, but that a real ghost may have played a role in their banishment,' put in the old pirate. 'The girl and I noticed several shadows behind you when the soldiers drew near. And none of their bullets managed to find you. That is a miracle not easily explained.'

'You have never faced a British line,' said Jake, who did not believe in ghosts, benevolent or otherwise. 'A full squad can fire at a barn three paces away, and not a ball will strike it. Besides, it was very dark and they were scared.'

'There are more things in heaven and earth than you dream in the imagination, sir,' said the old pirate.

'Shakespeare's

Hamlet,

though you misquote it.'

'I don't know what the ghost's name was,' continued the pirate respectfully, 'but I can tell you a tale of a haunted ship that routed half the Spanish fleet. And another that still sails the ocean, looking for its true captain, lost overboard in a fearsome gale.'

'I have no doubt,' said Jake. They were entering the mouth of the bay. Despite his age and seemingly small body, their companion was a strong rower; Jake began to feel confident they would make the duel on time after all.

'Were you honestly a pirate?' asked Alison.

'Still am,' declared the man boldly. 'With a privateer's license. Aye, one from England, one from Spain and one from France. I can plunder whom I please, when I please. Why, I know of many a pile of gold buried on this Long Island alone, and several dozen in the Jerseys where we are headed. Better hunting in the south, but I could tell you a story would make your short hair stand on end.'

Jake slipped against the sideboards of the bow as the man filled Alison with tales of adventure on the high seas. How much might be true or not, only he could say, but it was a fact that privateers did frequent these waters. Indeed, a sailing man working for the patriots could make a fine fortune fitting out against the British.

And vice versa.

Whether he would choose this stretch of Jersey coast to stash his treasure was another story. The sun was just rising as they neared the shore; Jake saw a beached boat and a canoe. A red cloth lay casually over the canoe's gunwale.

Daltoons.

'Alison, you hide near that boat,' Jake said quickly, pointing to the canoe. 'You see the red cloth? That is Lieutenant Daltoons's sign. Show yourself to no one but him, do you understand?'

'Yes.'

'I'm going above. Run up when you hear the pistols fire. If I am shot, tell them pure water is the antidote, and' it must be poured directly into the wound. He is not to apply it to Bauer. Be positive about that.'

Alison nodded.

'Tell him to make some excuse that he will bury Bauer himself. I expect he has already come up with a plan, but impress on him that it is important whoever is with Bauer think nothing is amiss. We must have secrecy.'

'I could have told you that,' said Alison. 'But what are you going to do with Bauer?'

'Never mind. Just follow my directions for once. Do you swear?'

'Aye-aye.'

'Swear it.'

Alison pressed her lips together, then reluctantly held up her right hand. 'I swear it.'

Jake turned to the old pirate, whose toothless grin lit the grim morning.

'You, sir, thank you for your help. I will recommend you to the Continentals, if ever you should need assistance.'

'And I will recommend you. You're a brave young lad. And you, young lady, you are as courageous as you are pretty.'

Jake helped her out of the boat, and she dashed through the water, holding up the folds of her damp dress as she ran for the canoe.

'I don't even know your name,' Jake said to the boatman as he put one foot in the water.

'Just an old pirate, sir. Nothing more, nothing less. Good luck with your revolution.'

Jake hurried ashore, going as fast as he could manage with his wounded leg. As he started up the winding path toward the summit, where the duel was to be fought, he turned and saw the boat and the old pirate were gone, as if into thin air.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Wherein, the lamentable death of Jake Gibbs is fully recorded and properly mourned.

“ I might have expected the man was a coward. The city is filled with them these days.” Clayton Bauer folded his arms and walked back toward the thick, gray stone wall where his brother-in-law stood. He had drunk two cups of strong whiskey before putting himself into the boat to come here, and another upon reaching the shore. His courage thus ran ahead of him, strutting heavily in the thinning mist of the morning.

'The sun is not quite on the horizon,' said Daltoons, who had chosen the uniform of a British captain as his disguise. 'The meeting was set for dawn. His honor entitles — '

'Honor.' Bauer spat in derision and paced back toward his brother-in-law and the servant who had rowed them here. The hilltop seemed isolated and empty, save for the three Tories and Daltoons; the four men could easily be alone in the world. Not even the birds were out, the earth blanketed in gray desolation. A painter could not have created a better morning for a duel.

'A man who insults a lady has no honor,' Bauer told Daltoons.

The disguised patriot thought for a moment how pleasant it would be if Jake did not show up: he would thrash the Tory bastard around the mouth several times before carrying him off for questioning. Culper's elaborate web had failed to turn up any new information of the invasion, and torturing Bauer for Howe's destination seemed their only option.

Daltoons had several men stationed in the nearby woods, dressed as redcoats and ready for any contingency.