Part 81 (1/2)

”Aye, the d.a.m.n'd Frenchmen,” Bartholomew interjected. ”I was there, sir.”

”I'm sorry the rest of us didn't manage to warn you in time.” Winston slipped his arm around her.

Suddenly she wanted to smother him in her arms. ”But do you realize you must have saved my life? They would have killed us all.”

”They doubtless would have. Eventually.” He reached over and kissed her, then drew back and examined her. ”Katy, I have a confession to make. I think I can still remember watching you. When I was in the longboat, trying to reach the s.h.i.+p. I think I fell in love with you that morning. With that brave girl who stood there at the railing, musket b.a.l.l.s flying. I never forgot it, in all the years. My G.o.d, to think it was you.” He held her against him for a moment, then lifted up her face. ”Which also means I have you and yours to thank for trying to kill me, when I wanted to get out to where you were.”

”The captain just a.s.sumed you were one of them. I heard him talk about it after. n.o.body had any idea . . .” She hugged him. ”You and your 'honor.' You changed my life.”

”You and that s.h.i.+p sure as h.e.l.l changed mine. After I fell in love with you, I d.a.m.ned near died of thirst in that leaky longboat. And then Ruyters . . .”

”Capitaine, please tell them I was the one who shot Jacques. That I am now _commandant de place_.” De Fontenay interrupted, his voice pleading. ”That I have the authority to order them . . .”

”You're not ordering anything, by Jesus. I'm about to put an end to any more French orders here and now.” Bartholomew seized a burning stick from the fire in the boucan and flung it upward, onto the veranda of the ”dovecote.”

A cheer went up from the English seamen cl.u.s.tered around,

and before Jacques's French guards could stop them, they were flinging torches and flaming logs up into the citadel.

”_Messieurs, no_. Please! _Je vous en prie. Non_!” De Fontenay stared up in horror.

Tongues of flame began to lick at the edge of the platform. Some of the guards dropped their muskets and yelled to get buckets of water from the spring behind the rock. Then they thought better of it and started edging gingerly toward the iron gates leading out of the fortress and down the hill.

The other guards who had been rifling the liquor came scurrying down the ladder, jostling de Fontenay aside. As Winston urged Katherine toward the gates, the young _matelot_ was still lingering forlornly on the steps, gazing up at the burning ”dovecote.” Finally, the last to leave Forte de la Roche, he sadly turned and made his way out.

”Senhor, what is happening here?” Atiba was racing up the steps leading to the gate, carrying his cutla.s.s. ”I swam to sh.o.r.e and came fastly as I could.”

”There's been a little revolution up here, my friend. And I'll tell you something else. There's likely to be some gunpowder in that citadel.

For those demi-culverin. I don't have any idea how many kegs he had, but knowing Jacques, there was enough.” He took Katherine's hand. ”It's the end for this place, that much you can be sure.”

”Hugh, what about the plan to use his men?” She turned back to look.

”We'll just have to see how things here are going to settle out now.

Maybe it's not over yet.”

They moved onto the tree-lined pathway. The night air was sharp, fragrant. Above the glow of the fire, the moon hung like a lantern in the tropical sky.

”You know, I never trusted him for a minute. Truly I didn't.” She slipped her arm around Winston's jerkin. ”I realize now he was planning to somehow try and kill us both tonight. Thank heaven it's over. Why don't we just get out of here while we still can?”

”Well, sir, it's a new day.” Guy Bartholomew emerged out of the crowd, his smile illuminated by the glow of the blaze. ”An' I've been talkin'

with some of my lads. Why don't we just have done with these d.a.m.n'd Frenchmen and claim this island?” He gleefully rubbed at the stubble on his chin. ”No Englishman here's goin' to line the pockets of a Frenchman ever again, that I'll promise you.”

”You can try and make Tortuga English if you like, but you won't be sailing with me if you do.”

”What do you mean, sir?” Bartholomew stood puzzling. ”This is our best chance ever to take hold and keep this place. An' there's precious few other islands where we can headquarter.”