LITMIR.BIZ

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possibly because he himself had for so long been on the account. Dazzled by the unaccustomed sunlight, hardly able to see anything—not that there was much to see at Exuma anyway—George had been hustled from one vessel to another, from one hell to a second, equally portholeless, and if possible even more vile. Nor had he been granted more than a glimpse of Nassau. Fearing that the sight of pirates being led through the streets in chains might raise a riot, the canny Hornigold had sneaked back under cover of darkness. Still protesting his innocence, George in the dead of night had been dumped ashore and hauled up to the fort without being given a chance to make note of his surroundings. Since then, except for a few hours in the court room, where the windows were blocked by morbid spectators, he had lain in a cell whose only outside opening was a grill far above his reach.

      Thus it was that after a month in these fabled isles he was being vouchsafed his first look at them.

      And he gasped.

      The moon was scounched low against an horizon outlined with cabbage palms and Spanish bayonet, and its light lay bland upon the bay. Wavelets were susurrant along the beach, which gleamed like molten gold, while arched above it, now gawky, now incredibly graceful, the coconut trees bobbed and flirted, their fronds atwinkle in the moonlight—pink, deep blue, orange, red, yellow, and most of all a giddy bright green. The boats at anchor did not rock, so tranquil was the water.

      “No, not out that way,” cried Woodes Rogers. “There!”

      George dropped his gaze—and saw the gallows. It looked incalculably strong, and it was tall. Nine ropes hung from it.

      “Those men deserve to hang, Rounsivel, and hang they shall. But how long d’ye think the townsmen back there are going to stay honest? They’ll watch this execution a few hours from now, and they’ll be impressed—for a little while. Then they’ll begin to mutter that I only got some small fry. And they’ll be right! It isn’t the John Augurs and Will Cunninghams I want. It’s the leaders. But . . . what can I get them with? You’ve seen the soldiers I brought. I’m organizing several companies of militia, but they’d desert to a man if some popular pirate sent in word that he wanted recruits.”

      “The Navy?”

      “I yield to no man in my admiration of the British Navy, sir. But I tell you the Navy don’t want to stamp out piracy in these waters. Lookee, here’s a map—”

      He hobbled to the table, George following him.

      “Here’s Panama. Hispaniola. Jamaica. And here we are. Any seaman will tell you how the trade winds blow in this part of the world. Vessels sailing home from Jamaica have to come near us here. They might use the Mona Passage to the east or hug Florida to the west, but either way they come close to this island. Right?”

      “I see.”

      “Now if the pirates have this place to themselves, the way they did before, then the merchants in Jamaica have to ship their stuff by convoy—with a warship.”

      “But I don’t understand why the Navy—”

      “Do you see any frigates out there in the bay, Rounsivel? No. The Navy keeps one stationed back in your Philadelphia, and they keep three at Kingston. But they never even drop in here to say hello. Why? Why, because the R.N. captains are being paid by the Jamaica merchants to guard their vessels in convoy. That’s the truth! They get as high as twenty per cent of the value of the combined cargoes. They’re waxing rich!”

      “Why hasn’t London been notified of this?”

      “London has been. But by the time somebody in Whitehall gets around doing anything about it we might be all dead here. Why, I can’t even get an answer from London!”

      “I see,” said George Rounsivel. “But what I don’t see,” he added, “is why you are telling me all this?”

      Woodes Rogers appeared not to have heard.

      “It’s the leaders I must lay hands on. Not the rank and file. Barrow’s loose, and so is Martel. Teach and Bonnet are in the Carolinas, but they’ll be back here if they hear that the place is wide-open. England’s gone to Madagascar, good riddance. Hornigold has stayed on, and Cockran, but I think they’ll hold fast; they made their pile before I came. But . . . Vane? I’ve got to find him. I’ve got to get a man to go after Charles Vane and learn everything about him—where he is, where he careens, where he gets his supplies, everything.”

      “And how can your excellency find such a man?”

      “I believe that I have found him.”

      “Eh?”

      “I regarded you in court. My niece has spoken for you, and I have faith in her judgment. Just now I saw you fight—”

      “He was very fast,” George muttered.

      “To my knowledge he has killed four men on the so-called field of honor. He’s rated as one of the finest swordsmen in Christiandom.”

      “I see. But . . . what’s all this to do with me?”

      “Only that, as I said, perhaps I have found my man.”

      “I’m honored,” George remarked dryly. “But I am also puzzled.” He pointed to the gallows. “Has your Excellency forgotten that within an hour or so I shall be dangling? A dead man can’t catch Charles Vane.”

      “You could escape, couldn’t you? Come here—” He limped to the other side of the room, the other window—“Suppose I went below—to the jakes, say? Couldn’t such a man as yourself, left alone here, climb down the side of this tower? A lot of cement’s been knocked out from between the stones. That makes toeholds and handholds. An active body should be able to reach the wall, and run along it a little way to where it’s been knocked down. After that he’d only have to slide on his bum through a heap of rubble. Oh, some sentry might shoot! But the sentries ain’t very observant just before dawn, and they’re damnably bad shots anyway.”

      “But still—how could I learn all about Charles Vane?”

      “By becoming a pirate. You were caught up in a pirate band when you didn’t want to be, you say, so why should it be hard when you do? Truth is, you’d be a hero to them . . . now.”

      “These are strange words from a royal governor.”

      “This is a strange place.”

      George stared again at Nassau Bay, so serene, assured. He saw sand, palm trees. The magic prevailed, but there was an uneasiness about it now.

      “And if I was to bring you a good report—”

      “Then I’d recommend your pardon.”

      “You’d trust me?”

      Woodes Rogers looked at him for a long while.

      “Yes,” he said at last, “I would.”

      “And if I refuse?”

      “If you refuse,” said Woodes Rogers, “I’ll hang you.”

      “Even though you believe my story, as I think you do?”

      “I would infallibly hang you.”

      Bemused, George leaned out of the window and looked down the side of the tower. He saw the cracks. He believed that the thing was possible, though speed would be needed, for already the east was pale.

      “That’s against the law, of course.”

      “It is,” the governor agreed. “So many things are against the law, out here. But there would be nobody to punish for having permitted such an escape—nobody but the governor himself, which is unthinkable.”

      “Yes.” George grinned a little. “All right,” he said.

      “Good!”

      They shook hands.

      “You’ll need money. Here’s a purse. And

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