The Delirium Passage Page 21

  “Thank you, Governor,” Ellen said when breakfast finished.

  Madame Dufour came in bustling with the clearing of little plates and cups.

  “My pleasure, as always,” Ernouf said. “Please excuse me, I must go.”

  “Madame Dufour,” Marion said, “may I have a word?”

  “Oui, oui. What is it you wish?”

  “Do you always go to the market for vegetables on Thursday?”

  “Oui.”

  “Even today?”

  “Of course. This is the day they are fresh. Besides, I love the rain. The air is so fresh and clear. I have a canvas to cover my basket.”

  “I quite love you, Madame Dufour. Such a cheerful woman as I should hope to be.”

  “It is in part your doing. Having two pretty young girls here has been wonderful for me.”

  “I am pleased to hear it. Can you do me a favor?”

  “I hope so. What is it?”

  “Will you please take a note to Mister Flood at the Stockade? I wish to know if he is well after yesterday’s long walks. If you will please wait for him to write a response (in English), I would appreciate it.”

  “Oui, Oui, mon ami. I will do it. I am happy to make a little more walk. Would you like to go? You don’t like the rain?”

  “Will you return here first, with the vegetables?”

  “Oui.”

  “Do you have another coat for rain?

  “Oui, but it will be short on you.”

  “Not too short, I think. Oui, thank you. I will be ready to go when you return.”

  Madame Dufour returned from the vegetable market just before noon. She was putting the vegetables in their bins when Marion entered the kitchen. “Do you want to go now, or after some dinner?” she asked.

  “Now is better, I think. I am not so hungry.”

  “As soon as I finish here,” M. Dufour said. “The weather has improved slightly. The rain is light now, and the clouds less. The coat is behind the door. And there is a rain hat. Miss Ellen is not coming?”

  “No, she has a book. This coat fits me well enough, thank you.”

  Marion and Madame Dufour arrived at the stockade gate only fifteen minutes later. They were allowed in and watched as they walked to Maison A.

  Inside, the room was dry and warm. Some of the men were asleep, and some sat about chatting. Everyone awake, however, noticed their arrival.

  “May I see Mister Flood and Mister Vondran?” asked Marion.

  When they approached, she politely introduced Madame Dufour, in English and French, but continued in English. “As far as I know she does not speak English. Mister Vondran, I thought you would all be at the ship.”

  “No, miss. I thought it strange meself, but they didn’t bother with us in the rain.”

  “First, Mister Flood, how are you feeling? Will you be able to walk to the ship again tomorrow, if it is not raining?”

  “Yes’m,” he said, “It’s sore today, and I’m glad of the rest, but I should be ready to go tomorrow.”

  “Here is a note for you and Mister Vondran… If you will read it, please…”

  “I can’t read, Miss, I’m sorry.”

  “Mister Vondran, then. Please read this to Mister Flood.”

  Mr. Flood / Vondran,

  Our plans have been delayed one day due to the rain. We will walk Mr. Flood to the ship again in the morning, Friday, in the hope events can continue as planned. The governor has not left as expected due to rain, and we are invited to supper tomorrow, so we are not sure of our departure timing. We can only assume you will find a way. Please advise Master Carstens.

  Joseph rowed over to see Neville in the late morning, knowing full well that Elizabeth had no intention to depart. The wind was not enough to move wet sails. That, by itself, meant the escape plan had to be delayed.

  “But I must go as soon as there is a breeze, Joseph, or the Governor will certainly send his men after me.”

  “If your ship is gone, he must assume you are gone, though. Come hide on Penguin and be available to help. I know you don’t want to sail away and leave Marion behind. Have you seen activity on the Fleur des Lorient? You are closer than I.”

  “No, not today.”

  “So, everything is stopped today because of rain. We should assume we continue as planned, only one day later.”

  “Agreed, but if a breeze arises, I must send Elizabeth off… but to where?”

  “Dominica, I say. It is upwind, but that means no large square-rigged ship can catch her. We should all meet there before sailing to Jamaica.”

  “Agreed, again,” Neville said “We must confirm this change of plans with Marion, Ellen, and Master Carstens.”

  “It should be possible to pass notes through Marion and Ellen and Mister Flood.”

  “Yes, excellent idea. It needs to be quite early. Did you see them yesterday when they brought Mister Flood to the pier, and later returned him to the stockade?”

  “I certainly did. They were splendid.”

  The rain lessened in mid-afternoon. Some small patches of blue sky became visible, and a light breeze began blowing from the north.

  “Elizabeth absolutely will need to sail this afternoon, Mister Rawkins.”

  “Aye, Master. Conditions are as good as they ever will be. What are your orders?”

  “Take command, and sail to Saint Lucia.”

  “Do what?”

  “I will be hiding on Penguin to remain and assist in the release of the ladies and the Speedwells. Please ready the jolly boat to take me across before you lose the wind.”

  Rain fell again in the middle of the night. The sound turned Neville’s stomach. He tossed for a few minutes but decided to get up and walk about. In the galley, he found Joseph looking for some scrap to eat.

  “The rain has disturbed you, also, I see.”

  “Yes, but it may be this is merely a short passing storm. There’s nothing to eat here, Neville. If there were, either the men or the rats would have it.”

  “Not so fast, Joseph. We may be saved. Here comes your cook.

  Joseph asked the cook to put the kettle on.

  “When the rain passes, or when the Speedwells are marched to work, we must pass our note. You must be the one to go. I may be rather useless, after all. I am known as the one from the rum ship, but they don’t know you. You can probably pass the note directly to Mister Flood when our loves walk him down – if you time it right – and a note for the ladies at the same time.

  * * * * *

  The rain had almost stopped by 8:00, when the Speedwells were marched to work on the Fleur de Lorient. The lookout on Penguin reported this event to ‘Master Lowe’. Joseph had readied his launch before the report was sent and, therefore, walked immediately across the deck to the boarding ladder. The launch pushed off in minutes. At mid-tide, the pier ladder’s lower steps were slippery green. Joseph wiped his hands on the deck boards at the top and looked about for the progress of his wife. The Speedwells were coming down the pier, but Mr. Flood had walked only about half way from the stockade.

  Joseph walked toward the party of three people and two horses. He looked a few of the Speedwells in the eyes as he passed but said nothing. He met the others a few hundred yards from the pier.

  “I thought it looked like you, Joseph,” Ellen said.

  “It is me, indeed. We must look like mere passers-by, though, and only stop for a moment.”

  “It’s wonderful to see you,” Marion said. “We can’t walk Mister Flood back this afternoon. We are to dine with the Governor.”

  “I thought he was leaving.”

  “That was his plan, but the rain has made a mess of the roads. I have a note for you.”

  “Excellent. I have one for you. I’ll come for you – late afternoon or evening. Be ready.”

  “How do you expect to…”

  “At what time will you finish supper?” Joseph asked.

  “Half six, I should think,” Marion said.

  “Ex
cellent. Expect me to knock on the door just then. When you hear me knock, one of you go lock Mrs. Dufour in a closet. Both of you have small travel bags ready to go. Cheers,” Joseph said and continued his walk toward the Governor’s Mansion.

  When Marion and Ellen returned to the house, Joseph was not there. Mrs. Dufour did not remember seeing him.

  * * * * *

  Neville waited on Pelican after Joseph left, watching for the activity of the Speedwells’ arrival at Fleur de Lorient to return to its normal mundane routine, and for the return of his friend.

  When Joseph returned mid-morning, he came down the stair waving a note at Neville. “Look here,” he said, passing the note over. “Ellen says it must be today, with no more delays, because…”

  “The Speedwells’ last day aboard this ship is today,” Neville read, “and they might even be finished before end of day.”

  “So,” continued Joseph, “if we miss this, Penguin will not be allowed to remain here long enough for us to sort all of it out again.”

  The ship’s bell chimed eight.

  “First Dog Watch is coming on, Neville. It’s time. My men are in the launch. That’s not much of a disguise.”

  “I don’t need much -- just enough so the guard on deck doesn’t recognize me.” He’d borrowed a horizontally-striped white and blue shirt from one of the crew and a hat from another. The hat was a bit large, with a little brim, making it easy to pull down over his forehead and shade his eyes. He’d also let his beard grow for two days to change the appearance of his complexion. “This should get me close enough to knock him on the head. Let’s go.”

  The two captains climbed down the short ladder into the waiting launch, which already carried five men. Four rough-looking men sat prepared to row. The fifth carried a small canvas sack.

  Joseph directed the launch to the spot on the beach where he had landed on the night he visited Ellen. The moment the bow scrubbed the strand Joseph hopped out, shoved the launch off the sand, and set off for the house. Neville stayed in the boat to be rowed to the pier.

  Neville was concerned the guard might be alert, possibly with the idea of returning the prisoners to the stockade earlier than normal. When he arrived at the end of the pier, however, he saw Flood mending the guard’s favorite lounge sail. Still, while the guard may have been displaced, he alone on deck other than Mr. Flood, and he appeared to be in his usual semi-wakeful state.

  All five men from the launch accompanied Neville to Fleur de Lorient’s entry port. All were wary, keeping an eye out for any observers. Mr. Flood noticed them from the corner of his eye. When he turned his head, Neville put a finger to his lips. He understood and returned to his sewing. Neville knocked on the rail. “Bonjour,” he said to the guard.

  Keeping the brim of his hat low, he called again, “Bonjour, monsieur gendarme. Will you give me directions?”

  This time the guard heard and glanced his way. He obviously didn’t like what he saw. When he struggled to his feet, he also picked up his musket. “You cannot come on this ship. You must go,” he said, in French.

  Neville answered in French, “Come here and look. I have this map, but I do not understand it. Is this pier on the map this one here, or is there another? Look, here. See?” He wagged the paper at the guard, who then edged closer.

  When the guard came close enough to see it, he pulled it back, turned so he could see it himself, and pointed to a spot on the page.

  “Right here, this,” he said. The guard, now frustrated with him, reached over to snatch the paper. It was not the paper snatched, but his arm – by one of Joseph’s sailors. A hard jerk pulled him from ship to dock, where he landed heavily. Another hand snatched his musket before it clattered to the floor. The first man’s knee landed in the middle of the guard’s chest, knocking him breathless and not able to cry out. Yet another man’s hands grabbed his head. With three sharp smacks of his face against the dock, the guard went limp. Neville stepped aboard, followed by the two sailors carrying the limp guard. “Tie him, and hide him under the sail for now,” he said.

  Neville headed for the main stair followed by two more of Joseph’s men. As they went below, they found Carstens and his men gathering tools, piling them in the center of the salon floor in preparation to leave.

  The below-decks guard sat at a table seat further forward. He stood when he saw men he didn’t know coming down the stair. Frantically, he looked about. Neville knew what he was looking for – his musket. Too much complacency had made him sloppy. Neville beat him to his musket, which leaned on a bulkhead across the salon. He shoved the butt of the weapon into the man’s chest, pushing him backwards across the table. When he fell, Joseph’s two sailors were on him before he stood or cried out.

  “Do not cheer!” Neville commanded the Speedwells. “Your lives depend on it. Slap each other’s backs and embrace, if you wish, but we need quiet, as if nothing has happened here.”

  “What of the other guard?” asked Master Carstens, “… and Mister Flood?”

  Flood hobbled down the stair, followed by Joseph’s other two sailors.

  “Thank goodness,” Carstens said. “What happens now?”

  “You get ready to sail. We’re going to Dominica.”

  “We can sail this thing,” Carstens said, “but I don’t know the way out of this harbor. Are there charts – of here, and the Loowr’ds?”

  “You haven’t checked?”

  “I will now.” He sprinted for the Master’s cabin.

  “Is he tied and gagged?” Neville asked his ruffians.

  “Aye, Sir. Tied and gagged.”

  Carstens returned with two scrolls of paper. “We do have, Captain Burton. These are excellent. With these and a few stars or some moonlight, we can leave. Oh, there’s a problem I believe.”

  “What is it?” Neville asked.

  “The stockade. It’s getting time we returned for supper. Our absence will certainly be noticed. I expect they will send someone.”

  “I’m sure they will. I’m sorry to say you should expect to be hungry tonight.”

  * * * * *

  Joseph walked directly to General Ernouf’s residence. As long as Neville had no trouble at the pier, the timing was perfect. The sun had dropped below the peaks of Basse-Terre to the west, providing a longer dusk than normal for a place in the tropics. Half six had passed when he walked up the shelled carriage path to the front door. A sentry challenged him. Neville expected it; he had seen a sentry there on his previous visit.

  “I was told to come see Captain Ernouf,” Joseph said in English.

  “Je ne parle pa anglais (I do not speak English),” the man responded.

  “All right, will you kindly let me in to speak to the Governor?” Joseph put his hands to his chest for ‘me’ and to his mouth for ‘speak’ and pointed to the door for ‘Governor’. He showed a paper he had obtained from the harbor provost.

  The meaning seemed clear to the sentry – more so after looking at the paper – but Joseph could tell he was wary.

  Joseph remembered, “S’il vous plait (please).”

  The sentry motioned him to stay put, knocked on the door, and opened it. A wonderful smell of roast beef wafted out from within.

  “Je m’excuse, Gouverneur,” he said after a moment.

  Joseph heard the clank of a utensil on china – probably tossed aside in annoyance. He heard the sound of boots coming his way. A man, whom Joseph assumed to be the governor, appeared. He gave Joseph an annoyed look, and said to the sentry, “Dîner est terminé, ou je n’aurais pas pu venir. Qui est-ce? (Supper is finished, or I wouldn’t have come to the door. Who is this?)”

  The guard showed the paper.

  “Have you no manners?” the governor asked in French. “Wait there.”

  Joseph heard Marion ask something in French. He saw Ellen and Marion walk up behind the governor. He could stand no more; Joseph snapped. He slapped the musket from the unexpecting sentry’s hands. It rattled into the house, landing at Ellen’s
feet. He grabbed the sentry by the back of his neck and pushed him into the governor’s face. As Joseph kicked the door shut, he saw Marion run into the dining room. The sentry rose to defend the governor, but the governor went to the floor when Ellen whacked him hard on the back of his knees with the musket barrel. Joseph drove his fist into the sentry’s face. When he hit the floor, Ellen hit his head with the butt of the musket.

  Marion reappeared with a handful of boot laces. She threw them to Ellen and Joseph. “Madame Dufour is safe in the closet,” she said. “Tie them. I’ll find something to gag them. Our bags are ready. Are the Speedwells ready to go?”

  Joseph was momentarily dumbfounded. Despite all his experience, the efficiency of this attack by two small, pretty women wearing evening dresses still took him aback. “Uuum…They should be,” he said.

  “How are they ready, Joseph?” Ellen asked.

  “Neville – my men – Speedwells. They should have Fleur de Lorient ready to slip dock lines even now as we speak.”

  “Here,” Marion said. She threw each of them strips of cloth. “Wad one up for the mouth and tie them in with the other. Then we go – out the front. Leave the lights burning. We do not want to alert the stable boy out back. I don’t want him hurt. He’s adorable.”

  “Give us two minutes to change,” Ellen said.

  Joseph rolled his eyes but waited patiently. It took only three for the ladies to change into their riding outfits. They returned with a roll of fabric each, which he recognized as the dresses they had been wearing. He decided not to ask how they had managed the quick change. “You look ready, now. Let’s go,” he said.

  The three went out the front, walking casually in the event anyone happened to be watching, until they reached the darkness of the trees and bushes of the outer yard. They began jogging towards the strand, with Joseph in the lead.

  “Keep it slow, Joseph,” Ellen said. “We are not wearing boots, remember?”