Sackett's Land

aground, no mistaking that, and her foremast was down, trailing over her side. When I moved away a little to get a better view, I could see no movement near her. Nor was there any sign of the Jolly Jack.

            'I think we had best remain,' I suggested, 'until matters settle down a bit. From here we can see all about and can choose our way when we leave.'

            She glanced at the bow. 'Where did you get that?'

            'I made it. It isn't very good, but I was hungry and in a hurry.'

            'I think it does very well. I could have cheered when you shot that man.' She glanced at me. 'We are going to have a bad time, aren't we?'

            I shrugged, watching the beach and the slope to the beach. 'She doesn't look too badly hurt,' I nodded to indicate the Tiger, 'so we may be able to float her again.'

            Pacing about I studied all the approaches to our sandhill. It appeared to offer so little in the way of shelter that I doubted they would come hence, yet if they wished to see about—

            'I am very tired,' Abigail said suddenly. 'Would you think me ungrateful if I slept?'

            'You'd be wise,' I said bluntly. 'My father was a soldier and he always told me a good soldier never stood when he could sit, and never sat when he could lie down, and ate whenever there was food.'

            I showed her a place near a log where leaves had thickly gathered. It was a shadowed place and still. I picked up broken branches from the leaves and smoothed them for her, and when she lay down she went at once to sleep. Would that I could lie down and sleep so easily!

            I peered at the woods below. After a while I found several straight, light branches and commenced to work on them with an edge of stone to make more arrows for the crude quiver I had shaped from bark.

            Suddenly a knowledge came upon me. I would take my furs and return to England. But I would gather about me a few trusty souls and return again. This was the land!

            Yet there was a shadow across my return. Rupert Genester would be there, awaiting me.

            Well, he need not wait. I would seek him out, and have done with it once and for all.

            I must find Captain Tempany and we must prepare to assert ourselves. We must rear a defensible position and we must repair and refloat, if possible, the Tiger. If not, but one thing remained.

            Take the Jolly Jack.

            It would serve Nick Bardle right to be left ashore, then. My eyes went again to the Tiger. The three-master was well aground, but aside from the fallen mast seemed to be damaged but little. It had been hulled twice, Abigail said. Yet the holes might be patched.

            My furs should still be aboard her, and some of my trade goods.

            Abigail was stirring when I next looked at her, and then her eyes opened. She looked at me, startled, then gradually came awake. She sat up. Automatically her hands went to her hair. 'Barnabas!' It was, I believed, the first time she had called me that. 'What shall we do?'

            'Go down to the Tiger,' I said.

            'The Tiger! But they will find us there!'

            'We do nothing here. Sooner or later Captain Tempany will come back to his ship. We shall be there and ready.'

            'And if Nick Bardle comes first?'

            'We shall prepare to receive him. I have no time to waste dodging him, nor do I intend to. He has cost me dearly already, but next time he shall pay.'

            Late afternoon came across the sound leaving an edging of silver on the sand behind it, dusk crept up the hills and erased the last vestiges of color from the tops of the old trees. And when the last shadow was gone, we went down from the mountain and across the beach to the vessel.

            Aft, where she lay in water, a rope ladder trailed down. Sheathing my sword, a dagger in my teeth, I went up and aboard, ready for what might come. All was dark and still.

            Abigail followed after, doing remarkably well on the ladder and over the rail, despite her skirts. Aft we went to the cabin, and all was dark and quiet. Over the stern lights I hung a heavy blanket from the bed, and then cautiously, with flint and steel, a light.

            All was in turmoil. What I looked for was a pistol, and finding one, I charged it. What Abigail looked for was clothing, and she found it.

            'I want to change,' she said, looking at me.

            'Change then,' I replied, 'but quickly.' Stepping out I closed the door behind me, then went into the smaller mate's quarters and felt about for the hasp of the gunlocker. It was intact.

            Apparently Bardle had been too intent on pursuit of Tempany to loot the Tiger, or believed it safely within his hands, with no need for hurry.

            Breaking the hasp with an axe from a nearby bulkhead, I took out a musket, another pistol, and charged both. On the after rail was mounted a swivel-gun, and I charged it also. It could cover a large part of the beach from the high side of the vessel. The Tiger was canted slightly to the starboard side, and the swivel-gun, mounted on the port rail, had an excellent field of fire.

            From the galley I brought food to the cabin, knocked, and was admitted. Abigail looked lovely in a simple gray dress with white cuffs and collar. She had made up a small bundle of whatever she might need, and stood ready for leaving.

            There was ham, ship's bread, some onions and a bit of dried fruit from the master's mess. Taking a careful look around from the ship's deck, I then joined Abigail in the cabin where we sat to table and ate. We were hungry, and it pleased me mightily to see the hungry way in which Abigail sank her dainty teeth into a bit of ham I'd sliced for her.

            I pulled a draught of ale for each, and with mine in one hand and a chunk of ham in the other, I returned to the deck. The beach was empty so far as I could see, but it was growing quite dark. Going below once more, I sat down and finished the best meal I'd had in days, and then began to pack a sack with food to be taken if time and circumstance allowed.

            'We are going now?' she asked, watching me pack the sack.

            There was reluctance in her tone, and I understood why.

            'Not tonight,' I said, 'unless we must. Do you sleep now, in a good bunk. Tomorrow we will think of going.'

            'And you?'

            'I'll watch,' I said. 'Be off with you now.'

            She left, and the door closed gently behind her. I peered out into the darkness from near the swivel- gun. I knew how tired she must be, for I was also tired.

            I leaned on the rail and my muscles cried out for me to lie down ... for a minute only.

            There was no sound but the rustle of surf on the sand. Search the woods as I might, I could see no gleam of fire, nor could I hear any sound. It was very still.

        Chapter 16

            My eyes closed. Almost at once they were open and I felt fear go through me like a shaft of steel, cold and bitter.

            To sleep might be to die. More than that, I would leave her whom ... I hesitated at what I suddenly thought ... whom I loved.

            There ... the thought was complete. But was it so? Did I love Abigail Tempany? And if so, why? A lovely girl, gentle enough yet with courage and more strength than one would suspect. A lady, but a bright one—she was intelligent, with a good measure of common sense, and the two are not always one.

            Now I was awake. For the moment at least my weariness disappeared in contemplation of this new thought. I was in love. Yet why should Abigail Tempany, of all people, love me?

            Not that she did, of course. There was no reason for it. Why should anybody love me? I was a somewhat ordinary man with ordinary impulses, and some measure of ambition, but I had little, I was less.

            Yet I would be something ... that I knew.

            I loved a lady, a fair lady. I wished she were mine in one breath and was glad she was not in a second, for where could I take such a lady? To a cottage in the fens? Abigail? Even if she would consider it, I would