'Ta do what, sir?'
'To be Rachel's champion, ' he said wistfully. 'And when Solomon Stiles told me about the two slaves who'd escaped—the brother and sister—and that they'd nearly reached the Florida country... I thought... it « possible. But it's not, is it? And it never was. Well. I do need to get to bed, don't I?' He felt as if he could sleep for a year, and awaken bearded and forgetful of time. 'Good night. Of rather... good morning.'
'The brother and sister?' Mrs. Nettles said, with a perplexed expression. 'You mean... the two slaves who ran away... oh, I s'pose it must'a been the verra first year.'
'That's right. Stiles told me it was the first year.'
'Those two got near ta the Florida country? Mr. Corbett, they were but children!'
'Children?'
'Yes sir. Oakley Reeves and his sister, Dulcine. I recall they ran away after their mother died. She was a cook. The boy was all of thirteen, sir, and the girl no older'n twelve.'
'What? But... Stiles told me they were put in irons. I assumed they were adults!'
'Oh, they were held in irons, even though the boy was lamed. They were both put on a wagon and taken away. I knew they'd run a piece, but I had nae an idea they'd gotten so far.'
'Children, ' Matthew repeated. He blinked, stunned by this revelation. 'My God. If two children could make it that distance...' He took the lantern from her hand and again studied the French explorer's map, this time with a silent intensity that spoke volumes.
'They were desperate, ' Mrs. Nettles said.
'No mote so than I.'
'They cared nae if they lived or died.'
'I care that Rachel lives. And myself as well.'
'I'm sure they had someone helpin' 'em. An older slave, gatherin' what they needed.'
'Yes, ' Matthew said. 'They probably did.' He turned toward her, his eyes glittering with fierce resolve. 'Would you perform such a function for me, Mrs. Nettles?'
'Nae, I wouldn't!' she answered. 'I'm dead set against it!'
'All right, then. Would you betray me if I myself gathered the necessary items? Some of them would be matches and a flint, a knife, clothing and shoes both for myself and Rachel, and a supply of food. I would have to take those items from the household.'
Mrs. Nettles did not reply. She scowled, her froggishly green face nothing short of fearsome.
'I ask only of you what you once asked of me, ' he said.
'The Lord my witness, I canna' bear ta see ye go on such a folly and lose your young life. And what of the magistrate? Would you abandon him?'
'I thank the same Lord who is your witness that Magistrate Woodward is on the path to recovery. There is nothing I can do to speed his progress.'
'But leavin' him like this can ruin it. Have you thought on that?'
'I have. It is a bitter choice to have to make, between the magistrate and Rachel. But that's where I find myself. I intend on writing a letter to him, explaining everything. I must hope that he reads that letter and fully understands my reasoning. If not... then not. But I hope—I believe—the magistrate will.'
'Your time. It's awful wee.'
'Everything would have to be gathered and readied within twenty-four hours. I want to get her out of there and be gone long before sunrise.'
'This is daft!' she said. 'How do ye plan on gettin' that key from Green? He won't likely open up the door and let you march in and out!'
'I'll have to give that some thought.'
'And how will you go, then? Right through the front gate?'
'No, ' Matthew said. 'Through the swamp, the same as the slaves.'
'Ha! If ye make five miles, you'll have the luck of Angus Mc-Coody!'
'I have no idea who that might be, but I presume it's some personage of fortune in your native land. If it's a blessing, I accept it.' He had put his own darkened lantern on the desk and was measuring with the fingers of his free hand the distances involved. 'I must have a compass, ' he decided. 'I'll never find the way without one.' A thought came to him. 'I would wager Paine owned a compass. I don't think he would mind if I searched his house. Alas, Mrs. Nettles, I shall also have to free this map from its prison.'
'Don't tell me such a thing. I don't care ta know.'
'Well, I'll leave it alone for the time being. There's no point in advertising my intentions.'
'They'll be after you, ' she said. 'Most likely Mr. Stiles, leadin' the way. They'll hunt ye down quick enough.'
'Why should they? Rachel and I have no value to Bidwell. In fact, he may be more pleased to see the last of me than of her. I think he'll send Stiles out to make a quick search, but it will be only rudimentary.'
'I say you're mistaken. Mr. Bidwell wants ever'one here ta see her burn.'
'I doubt there will be many remaining to watch the display.' Matthew removed the candle from his lantern and lit it with hers. Then he returned the lamp to her hand. 'After I get Rachel there—to a place of safety, a town or fort or some such—and come back, I'll explain everything to him.'
'Hold.' Mrs. Nettles regarded him now as if his bell was severely cracked. 'What're you sayin'? Come back?'
'That's correct. I'm taking Rachel to the Florida country, but I don't intend to stay. If I can follow the map and compass there, I can follow them back.'
'You young fool! They won't let you come back! No, sirrah! Once those Spaniards get their claws on you—an English citizen—they'll ship you right quick ta their own damned land! Oh, they'll treat Rachel fair enough, her bein' a Portuguese, but you they'll parade through their streets like a dancin' monkey!'
'Not if they don't get their claws—as you put it—on me. I said I would take Rachel to some town or fort, but I didn't say I myself would enter it. Oh... one more thing I need to find: a stick, line, and hook I might use for fishing.'
'You're a city boy, ' she said, shaking het head. 'What do ye know of fishin'? Well, that wilderness will cure your insanity soon enough. God help you and that poor woman, and bless your bones when they're a-layin' in a beast's lair chewed ta the marra!'
'A delightful image to sleep upon, Mrs. Nettles. And now I must leave your company, as my day will surely be full.' He took his lantern and went to the door, treading lightly.
'A moment, ' she said. She stared at the floor, a muscle working in her jaw. 'If ye haven't yet considered this... you mi' think to fetch some clothes and the like from her house. All her belonging are still in there, I believe. If you're wantin' an extra pair a' boots... I mi' can he'p you with that.'
'Any help would be greatly appreciated.'
She looked up sharply at him. 'Sleep on this, and think on it again with a clear mind. Hear me?'
'I do. And thank you.'
'You ought ta curse me, and thank me only if I put a pan ta the side of your head!'
'That makes me think of breakfast. Would you awaken me promptly at six o'clock? And grant me an extra helping of bacon?'
'Yes, ' she said glumly. 'Sir.'
Matthew left the room and went to his own. He got into bed, extinguished the lantern, and lay on his back in the dark. He heard Mrs. Nettles go along the hallway to Bidwell's room and quietly open the door. There was a period of quiet, during which Matthew could envision the woman lifting her light to check on her sleeping—-and near-mad-—master. Then he heard her walk back along the hall and descend the stairs, after which all was silent again.
He had less than four hours to sleep, so he ought to get to it. There was indeed much to do on the morrow, most of it not only duplicitous but highly dangerous.
How was that key to be gotten from Green? Possibly something would come to him. He hoped. It was vital to find a compass. And clothes and proper shoes for Rachel, as well. Then food must be procured; preferably dried beef, though if it was heavily salted the need for water would increase. He had to write a letter to the magistrate, and that might be the most difficult task of all.
