"Wait! Where are you "
"To see the commander!" He raced out of the house and ran toward the home of the Maroon leader.
On sober consideration Janine Groliere decided she had been hasty. Although she was certain that Jeremy had no intention of marrying her, she had given him no chance to explain his reasons. And the undeniable fact remained that she loved him. Now, more than ever, she knew how empty her life would be without him, and she was determined, at all costs, not to lose him. So it would certainly be the better part of wisdom to go to him at once and apologize, even though she had little for which to beg his pardon. If she could soothe his masculine ego and listen to his reasons for rejecting marriage with her, it might then become far easier to deal with him, to soften him, to make him realize that he was as much in love with her as she was with him. Janine knew that he loved her, but the problem was to make him aware of it.
After washing tearstains from her face and combing her hair she stepped out of the little one-room hut and started toward the house of Arnold and Myra. She had seen Jeremy going in that direction, and if he should be with his host when she arrived there, so much the better. Out of common politeness he should not walk out on her again, and when he saw that she was properly abashed, she was sure he would sit down with her in private to discuss the matter reasonably and sanely.
As she walked rapidly up the path, she caught sight of a familiar feminine figure sauntering in her direction. Blinking in the sunshine, she saw that it was Esther Mary Pennywell.
This would be their first meeting since Janine's dramatic departure from Port Royal, and although she had no real liking for the minister's niece, she was nevertheless genuinely glad to see her and smilingly called a greeting.
Esther Mary waved and surveyed her so carefully that Janine blushed and felt even more naked than she was, painfully conscious that the dark-haired girl was wearing her habitual shirt. Esther Mary said, "Hello," then laughed insolently, patted Janine on a bare shoulder, and declared, *'I was wondering if the Maroons could transform a real lady into a savage. It's good to know that you're human, Sister Janine."
With that she wandered off, leaving Janine inarticulate with rage. When she recovered her temper she hurried on to Arnold's house and, finding the place empty, flounced back to her own hut. She had not yet seen Jeremy, it was true, but one hard, final conclusion had crystallized in her mind as a result of her encounter with Esther Mary: Jeremy was absolutely right in his desire to leave the Land of the Maroons as soon as possible. She shared that view with him and was as anxious as he to return to civilization at the first opportunity. And when she did, there was a score to be settled with Esther Mary Pennywell.
The commander sat in a comfortable chair near a window on the far side of the room from his "throne,'* and as Jeremy Stone burst into his house he was immersed iif the pages of a leather-bound book, seemingly at peace with the world. He glanced up slowly, and his spectacles dropped a fraction of an inch on the bridge of his nose. Completely unperturbed, he marked his place in the book with a dried leaf, closed it carefully, and turned slightly in his chair toward his uninvited, out-of-breath guest.
"Ah, Master Stone," he said calmly. "What can I do for you?"
"I've just heard that the governor general and his brigade of troops are planning to attack you," Jeremy replied without preamble. "Esther Mary Pennywell told me about it, and "
"I see." The old man nodded his head sagely. "And you'd like to join our defense forces."
Flushing, Jeremy muttered something inarticulate. The idea of taking up arms to aid the Maroons had not crossed his mind, and he felt somewhat ashamed after all they had done for him.
"I cannot permit you to accompany our expedition, Master Stone," the commander said, removing his glasses. "I am sorry, but the decision is in your best interest and cannot be reversed unless you plan to settle here permanently and to become one of us."
Taken aback, Jeremy tried to word his reply as gracefully as he could. "Frankly, the idea of making my home here has never occurred to me, sir. In fact," he added abruptly, "you've been aware for some time of my desire to return to Port Royal. You know I want to clear my name with the authorities, and "
"It is not so simple a case as you would make it out to be," the old man interrupted quietly. "You are a Maroon guest, not a Maroon immigrant. There are so many charges against your name on the ledgers of the puny men who claim to represent the Crown that it is impossible for you to be granted a pardon or an amnesty."
"But there is such a possibility now, provided I can get the ear of the Duchess of Glasgow," the young gunsmith declared eagerly.
"Why is the situation so different now, young man?" The commander's voice was firm, but he looked very old and fragile.
"Arnold has told me—repeatedly—^that I must stay here because you don't want Sir Arthur to use your many kindnesses to me as an excuse for making war on you. But if he is already committed to a campaign against you, I am no longer of consequence, and my presence in Port Royal will do you no harm, even if I am captured, which is farthest from my intention."
The old man shook his head. "You are wrong, quite wrong. Occasionally a military man in Port Royal conceives the idea of conducting a campaign against us. The idea is as senseless as it is fruitless, as devoid of meaning as it is lacking in ultimate purpose. The spirit of the Maroons is unquenchable, and the flame of our way of life cannot be extinguished. But it is one thing for a routine expedition to be sent against us, to become discouraged, and to leave us once again to our peaceful pursuits. It would be unwise," he continued with infuriating, unruffled detachment, "to give this man Bartlett a valid reason to fight against us. You would provide such a reason, Master Stone, and the brigade would try all the harder and all the longer to subdue us. So you see, I have no choice. Under no circumstances are you to leave the confines of the village. That is definite—and final."
A few moments later Jeremy stood once again under the hot sun. The commander's words had not deterred him from his goal, and his resolve to leave the hill village and return to Port Royal had deepened. He stood for several minutes, lost in thought. He knew the location of the Maroon arsenal and how to get into the commissary. Equally important, he knew where Arnold Rifle-Shoot kept his maps. Looking up, he grinned broadly and began to whistle as he crossed the village. A chance, a real chance, to escape from this savage wilderness would soon be his, and when the moment of opportunity came he would be ready for it.
Chapter Fourteen
IT WAS eleven days after Esther Mary Pennywell's warning that a drum message was relayed to the Maroon village, and an unprecedented wave of activity boiled up in the community with the intensity of a tropical hurricane. The commander, Arnold, and the elders gathered in secret conclave, and for the next few hours the drums were furiously busy. Arnold then issued a command to all men of the Maroons to stop work at once, and shortly after noon the entire population was called together in the central clearing. So great was the need for speed that no one bothered to erect the commander's ceremonial dais.
Jeremy Stone remained on the outskirts of the crowd and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. This was no time to call attention to himself, and the less he was noticed, the better it would be for his plans. Suddenly he caught sight of Janine Groliere, who was standing one hundred feet or more away from him. She was watching him tenderly but with alert interest, and he quickly averted his eyes. He had not spoken to Janine since their argument in her little hut, and this was no time to become embroiled with her.