She looked at Dirk Friendly, who fidgeted restlessly as he roamed about the first floor of the little house like a caged buffalo. Across the room Reverend Pennywell sat peacefully reading from a worn leather-bound Bible, apparently in no way concerned, and Janine could restrain herself no longer.
"Reverend Pennywell!" she said sharply, and the clergyman looked up and favored her with a beatific smile. "How can you, a man of God who is sworn to uphold law and order— how can you be a party to something that—^that "
Marking his place with a wood shaving, the minister put the Book carefully on a small table beside him and folded his hands in his lap. " 'Happy is he that condemneth not himself in that thing which he alloweth.' Romans, 14. I am sworn to preach the Word of the Lord, Mistress Groliere. And I am under His command to treat others as I would myself be treated. Master Stone has done a wrong and grievous thing to pretend that he is someone else. But Her Grace of Glasgow and her cohorts have been equally wrong in permitting his masquerade to continue after learning of it. If he is to be punished, they too should receive punishment. However," he continued dryly, adjusting his spectacles carefully on the bridge of his nose, "it is seldom possible to achieve the punishment of royalty in this world, despite the indisputable facts that the Stuarts seem more vulnerable than most of those who wear the purple."
Janine's anger grew, for he was undoubtedly enjoying his discourse, and she could neither share his detached viewpoint nor appreciate his academic approach. "You have not answered me, sir," she exclaimed. "You are breaking the law! You break it when you harbor me here. You break it when you allow your niece to seek information about a man who has committed a criminal act. And if it should be possible to help him "
"Your thoughts move faster than events, Mistress Groliere. Let me remind you that our impetuous Master Stone has been condemned in no court of law for his impersonation. Further, what may or may not be done will depend, I dare say, on what news Esther Mary brings us." Reverend Pennywell paused and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "You accuse me of breaking the law, Mistress Groliere. Whose law, that of man or that of God? *Doth our law judge any man, before it hear him, and know what he doeth?' John, 7.1 do not believe in physical punishment of any sort. Mistress Groliere. I do not and cannot believe that the Lord God intended that man, whom He has made in His image, should abuse and beat, torture and incarcerate, spit upon and mistreat his fellow man! The Lord is longsuflfering, and of great mercy, forgiving iniquity and transgression.' Numbers, 14. I do the work of the Lord. I "
The front door opened and shut, and the reverend broke off abruptly. Dirk reached for the pistols in his belt, and Janine jumped to her feet. Esther Mary walked into the room slowly, weariness showing in her face and in every line of her body. Her dog, panting, followed her and moved to a corner. The girl's glance flickered past Dirk and Janine; she caught her uncle's eye and addressed herself to him.
"He's alive."
"May the Lord be praised." The clergyman sank back into his chair.
Relief cracked Dirk's stem-set features into a grin, and he started forward eagerly. "Where is he, Mistress Pennywell? How d' we get t' see him? Is he all right? C'n he join me here?"
"One thing at a time, if you please." Though drooping with fatigue, Esther Mary continued to stand. Only now did the others notice that her hands were grimy with dirt and that a small but angry welt appeared on the left side of her forehead. "He's little more than alive, I'm afraid. They're according him the treatment they reserve for the most vicious and unregenerate criminals." She caught her breath, then plunged on: "They've taken him to Death Island."
"This is monstrous!" Dread as well as indignation was registered in the minister's voice.
Janine spoke for the first time since Esther Mary had entered the house. "What is Death Island?" she asked faintly.
Esther Mary's eyes shone with hatred. "It's a tiny bit of land, hardly more than a sandspit, located about two miles out into the Caribbean. There was nothing on the island until Henry Morgan became lieutenant governor—nothing, that is, save decaying fish washed up by the sea, and the ants who feed off them. Sir Henry had his own notions of justice, which he learned in his boucanier days. He built a score of bamboo cages." Her face was drained of color and she shivered. "You tell them, Uncle Jonas. I can say no more."
Reverend Pennywell cleared his throat. "In each cage there are four stakes driven securely into the earth. A prisoner is
shackled to these posts, lying on his back "
"Spread-eagled?" Dirk's face was crimson, and his blue eyes glittered.
"Yes, young man. Spread-eagled. As there is no roof, the prisoners are left to the mercy of the elements. They are given no food, no water. Fortunately the poor wretches who are taken there lose their minds in a very short time and survive only a few days at most."
"Ye mean t' say that's where Jerry is right now, with his arms 'n' legs tied down 'n' the sun a-fryin' his brains out?"
Esther Mary nodded, then swayed dizzily, but when Janine moved to her and would have given her support, the minister's niece angrily shoved her away. For a full minute or more there was a silence in the little room. Dirk wanted to ask how Esther Mary had acquired her information, but refrained. For the moment, at least, it was sufficient to know that his friend's neat scheme had ended in complete disaster and that Jeremy was dying.
Janine lifted her chin and threw back her shoulders. "If I were to go to the Duchess Caroline and beg her to be merciful "
"You'd find yourself in the cage next to that of the not so clever Jeremy Stone." Esther Mary was curt, almost contemptuous. "And you'd have the lot of us out there with you in a day's time, for no one is supposed to know what has become of Stone, so you'd be tortured until you revealed the source of your information. More is involved now than the safety of your own skin, girl, so you'll do what you're told from now on."
"I'll do as I please!" Janine looked as though she would make a break for the front door.
"As far as I'm concerned, you can rot." The minister's niece controlled her temper with difficulty. "But it's possible, just barely possible, that certain delicate and complicated operations will be successful. If they are, I have plans for you."
"How dare you!" Janine's face was scarlet.
"Because I'm thinking of Jeremy Stone—and of certain others, too—I dare as I please. And I'm thinking ahead. I won't bother to explain now, but there is a remote chance that you will prove useful. Should it be possible to rescue the prisoner, he would need someone to nurse him, to wait on him. I've chosen you for that particular task."
Janine could stand it no longer. That a total stranger should decide her relationship to the man for whom she had risked her whole future was infuriating beyond measure. It was plain to her, despite her rage, that Esther Mary intended to present herself in a flattering light to Jeremy by posing as his rescuer, and that she wanted to make light of Janine's efforts and sacrifices by making her appear as an unglamorous household drudge.
Though barely able to articulate, Janine drew herself up proudly. "You, madam, may go to blazes."
Esther Mary's fatigue was forgotten. She sprang forward, raised her hand, and deliberately slapped the other girl's face. Janine reached out, clawing wildly, but a huge figure stepped between the two girls, and two enormous hands reached out and lifted them up into the air, then set them down several feet apart. "We got too much t' do t' be a-wastin' ourselfs on a fight b'tween she-cats," Dirk observed, and there was a faint suspicion of humor in his flat statement. He turned to face Esther Mary. "How many guards be there on this here Death Island?"