Esther Mary's lower lip trembled, but she did not waver in her decision. "Bury the boards of the false hull in the usual place, lads," she said. "And be ready to travel in ten minutes' time. Keep an especially sharp watch for patrols along the Palisades, in case the news is already out that Master Stone has escaped." She swung around to face Janine. "It will be your task to try to keep him alive," she said brusquely, "for if he stays here he'll surely die."
"I?" The developments of the past few minutes had been too much, and Janine could only stare stupidly.
"You. What's more, you can't travel in that party gown. Come along and I'll give you one of my shirts and a pair of trousers."
A mop of red hair swirled in defiance. "Perhaps you'll have the kindness to tell me where we are being taken. And I'd like to know how long I'll be forced to "
"Naturally, you're going into hiding." The cleric's niece spoke curtly, almost contemptuously. "How long you'll be there depends on many factors unknown at the present time. And I certainly will not tell you where you're going. Should you be captured, it will be better for you as well as for others if you have no information to reveal. Now, come along! And hurry, Sister Janine! Unless you want all of us to be hanged!"
The narrow strip of land known as the Palisadoes curved in a gentle arc and formed the outer ring of a great bay that separated both Port Royal and the peninsula itself from the main body of the island of Jamaica. A lush tangle of undergrowth made progress difficult, and when the travelers passed through groves of mango trees and banyans they barely crept forward, as small, deadly coral snakes might be overhead, waiting to drop down on the unwary.
A half moon was reflected in the calm waters of the bay, which gently lapped against the hard rock and earth of the Palisadoes, but despite the presence of hundreds of stars the night was far from bright and the Southern Cross was occasionally obscured by clouds. Here and there the weeds rose as high as six feet, and small trees of soursop, wild cotton, and sweetsop were everywhere. Occasionally there were sandy, barren patches, and elsewhere pools of slimy, stagnant water appeared in the places where the ground was hard and where the rays of the sun never penetrated behind the thick screen of foliage.
Owls called mournfully to each other from treetops, and somewhere in the distance a pack of wild dogs howled and barked. Every once in a while a vulture circled overhead, then disappeared into the night, and an occasional rustle in the rank-smelling brush indicated the presence of some sort of small animal.
A cool breeze from the direction of the Blue Mountains relieved the oppressiveness of the atmosphere, but Janine Groliere was nevertheless perspiring heavily as she plodded behind Michael, who glided ahead of her tirelessly, a cutlass in his right hand. A few paces paces behind her was Gabriel, who carried Jeremy Stone in his arms as one would carry an infant. Despite his burden, Gabriel showed no sign of fatigue, and he moved methodically, his footsteps never faltering. The shirt Esther Mary had loaned Janine was drenched. There were rips in it and in the faded blue trousers, and her arms and legs bore innumerable scratches. It seemed as though they had been walking for hours, and she was sure they had covered many miles, yet neither of the Negroes had stopped to rest, and whenever Janine stumbled, one or the other remonstrated gently, "Hurry, mistress, hurry."
As the minutes dragged by, the girl became increasingly convinced that she was experiencing a nightmare and that she would soon awaken to find herself safe and secure in her own bed. Twice Michael had raised his cutlass in warning, then had hurled himself headlong into the thick weeds, and Janine had forced herself to follow his example. Gabriel had done the same, laying down the unconscious impostor directly behind her, and both times she had looked full into Jeremy's flushed face. There had been a faint trace of froth around his mouth, and his breathing had been labored and rasping.
Michael's alarms had apparently been groundless, because on both occasions, after listening intently, the big man had jumped to his feet and quickly resumed the march. Janine prayed fervently that she would not again be made to lie prone in the brush, for she had heard numerous tales of poisonous scorpions and centipedes, and in her imagination she could see these small, deadly enemies hiding behind every thick stalk of jungle grass and under every pile of rotting vegetation.
Neither stop had given her a chance to rest, for she had been tense and strained as she had listened for the sound of human voices and human footsteps, and her relief on each occasion had been followed by a feeling of complete exhaustion. She knew that if the men did not give her an opportunity to pause and regain her strength soon, she would be unable to continue, and it became acute torture to lift her feet and put them down on what seemed to be an endless trail that led nowhere. Yet when the Negroes gave no indication that they would halt, she called on reserves she had not known existed, and somehow she managed to keep going.
Slung over her shoulder was an oiled pouch in which were meat, bread, and a flask of water. She was thirsty, but Gabriel had forbidden her to drink while walking, for he insisted she would be sick. As for the food, she had no desire to eat, for fear had numbed her appetite, and the brackish odor of the mangrove swamps and jungles made her ill.
Above every other concern was her worry for the sick man being carried behind her. Deliberately forcing herself to face facts, she had to admit that it would be a terrible blow to her if he died, yet she could not imagine what relationship she could have with him in the future if he lived.
As an impostor and an outcast he represented the lower depths of society from which her father had dragged himself, and she knew that the captain would never consent to a marriage with a penniless adventurer who had a price on his head. Remembering Esther Mary Pennywell's bland admission that she would welcome an affair with Jeremy, and wondering what it would be like to become entangled with him herself, Janine blushed, amazed at her own thinking.
Gabriel's voice cut through the night as he called softly to Michael in a language that Janine did not understand, and the silent one of the team nodded in agreement and promptly swung toward the left. They climbed a steep embankment, then started down through a particularly wild tangle of brush toward the bay. When they reached the water's edge, the girl was infinitely relieved to see Gabriel lay his burden down on a small shelf of rock that jutted out into the water. She looked at the Negro inquiringly, pleading silently for a respite, and he nodded.
"You sit, mistress," he said cheerfully, then turned to his friend, who stood beside him, cutlass in hand. "You go look, Michael. Only for soldier patrols. Nobody but soldiers with Jamaica guides come this far."
Silently the bigger of the two men glided off through the weeds, and a few moments later he was lost from sight. Janine, sitting on the hard rock, massaged her aching legs and feet and was further upset when she noticed that her shoes were splitting and would soon fall apart. A racking cough shook the unconscious man beside her, and she reached out quickly and laid her hand on his brow. Though she couldn't be sure, his fever seemed much worse, and she first opened the oilskin pouch and removed the water flask, then lifted Jeremy's head to her lap.
Gabriel was watching her. *'No give him water to drink," he said vigorously. "Water bad for man with Yellow Death. Make sickness much more bad, mistress."
Janine wanted to protest, for she had often discussed diseases with the surgeons aboard her father's ships, and she firmly believed that water was the best medicine for someone suffering from a fever. However, she knew nothing about the ailment known by the name of the Yellow Death and conceded that Gabriel might be right. In any case she could not take the authority into her own hands, as she knew she would never forgive herself if the patient died. So she pulled the stopper from the flask and soaked a square of linen she had been thoughtful enough to stuff into the pocket of Esther Mary's borrowed trousers. Then she carefully placed the dripping cloth on Jeremy's forehead, and an instant later he sighed almost imperceptibly. Looking at him intently, the girl felt a thrill of gratification.