Once Upon a Midnight Sea (29 page)

They passed a hut marked
Rubio
, and its neighbor,
Eggers
. Some of the names were so poorly scratched they were illegible, but Christian knew his father possessed neat handwriting that had survived his imprisonment. The letter proved it.

They traversed down a low incline and followed the footpath through what appeared to be a wallowing meadow of sea grass. A prickly bramble bush of some type stood as tall as a house. Christian noted it didn't appear to possess fruit. Were the prisoners here fed, or did they have to rely on their own gardens?

He rounded the bush with Henri a few steps behind. Before him stood four guards, all of them holding rifles.

Christian froze in his tracks. The men stared at him, clearly surprised to see an outsider on the island.

Henri's footsteps behind him jolted him back to reality. "Run!"

The guard standing closest lifted his rifle to his shoulder. "Halt!"

Christian lunged. "No!"

The guard's aim changed as if unsure which one to aim at. The muzzle flashed with a tremendous roar, lighting up the night.

* * *

Fear replaced the wonder in Gilbert's eyes. "No, I cannot. If I am caught trying to escape I will receive seven years in solitary confinement. I am an old man, I cannot survive it again."

Adriana stepped close and took his hands. He uttered a soft gasp as she touched him. "Mr. De la Croix, your son is here. Don't you want to see him?"

"Christian?" The indecision tearing at his soul was evident in his pained expression. Finally he nodded. "
Oui
, to give up such a chance is to lie down and die right now."

"My boat is tied in a small cove at the southern tip of the island."

He followed her outside into the cold rain. "Where is he? Where is my son?"

"He and Henri search the other end of the island."

"Henri Dupree? Wait–Monsieur Pickles!" He spun around and held out his arm.

The bird flew to him. "
Salaud
."

"Silence, imbecile." Gilbert pulled her off the path. "This way, it is faster and we will not risk waking the others."

The wind covered their footsteps through fallen tree litter as he led her through the dense center of the island. Thorny branches snagged at her clothing. One stung her cheek as it scratched to her lip, drawing blood she could taste.

Gilbert hobbled along as though extending great effort, yet so slowly Adriana had only to walk alongside. He gave her an apologetic smile. "They broke my foot ten years ago at my third escape attempt. I've not been the same since."

With each step their escape seemed more unbelievable. Adriana was certain at any moment a passel of guards would step into their path, rifles aimed at ready.

As they reached the south cliffs of the island, a horrifying moment stretched as she feared she had lost her way to the cove. She should have turned around to map the area so she could recognize it on the way back. Then lightning lit up the night sky and she recognized a purplish bush, half dead on one side, she'd pushed through at the cove directly in front of her.

A sharp crack split the windy night. Adriana froze. "What was that?"

Chapter Twenty-Four

Gilbert halted, looking at her expectantly. "My ears, they are not what they used to be. Alas, much of me is not what it used to be."

Adriana held a finger to her lips. Far in the distance, another bolt of lightning touched the ocean. It must have been thunder.

"Come, hurry."

It took an eternity for the old man to negotiate the rocky incline face. Adriana was practically carrying him as they reached the bottom. As if knowing they were headed for the boat, the bird leapt off his shoulder and landed on the front bench.

Only when she untied the jolly boat and pushed into the current did the monstrous fear choking her begin to lift.

"
Bon Dieu
! I don't believe it," Gilbert said in a dust and cobwebs voice.

She smiled at him as she rowed with new strength. "Nor do I." It was almost too good to be true. Why, these past few weeks nearly warranted memoirs of her own.

They weren't out of danger yet. Wind and the current tried to push the boat back toward the mainland–the mainland governed by French authorities. Adriana fought with all her strength to row the jolly boat north-westerly, out to sea.

"Watch for a lantern," she said. By now Lady Luck would have drifted past the islands and headed toward the coast. If she were to miss it in the darkness, Adriana could find herself caught by the trade winds and pushed out to sea.

"My eyes, they aren't what they used to be."

The poor man. How could she be cross with him? He'd suffered so terribly. By the looks of him, his teeth weren't what they used to be, either.

"Do the best you can. My ship is drifting north-west to pick us up, but I cannot see as I row."

Lightning lit up the night a second time, then almost instantly, a third. "There!" He pointed. "I saw her silhouette against the sky. My, she's a tall one."

A surge of pride warmed Adriana's chest. "Built by my father's own hands." She turned around, hoping the old man hadn't imagined it. Relief flooded over her as she saw Mr. Ling's lantern at the bow.

"Your father, is he there?"

"He could not be here, but he is anxious to see you, back in Baltimore."

"Baltimore," Gilbert said in a far-away voice. "In the Americas."

"It is beautiful," she assured him. "You shall love it."

"I shall love any place where I see my son again. I so feared he hated me."

"On the contrary, if you only knew what he has endured to rescue you, you would be quite impressed by his devotion." Adriana brought the jolly boat alongside the ship.

Adriana had never been so happy to see the wrinkled faces of Mr. and Mrs. Ling. They peered over the railing, chattering in fast Chinese as Adriana fixed the ropes on the jolly boat. Gilbert eyes glistened with joy as they were slowly drawn up. Mr. Pickles flew off the jolly boat's bow and up onto the deck.

"Mr. Ling, have Christian and Henri returned yet?"

"No, you first," the elderly man called down.

She assumed as much, having fled the island quickly once she'd found Gilbert. They would be reluctant to leave empty handed, and wouldn't depart until an hour before dawn, as agreed, if they hadn't retrieved him.

"Do my old eyes deceive me? Cho Ling, is that you?"

Mr. Ling fixed the winch and ran to help Gilbert aboard. "Happy to make re-acquaintance," he said, bowing. "It been many years."

Suddenly she understood the secret that had been floating around them like a ribbon of smoke. The Lings had been with her father long enough to know everything.

They helped Gilbert to the bench amidships and Adriana sat by his side. "Mrs. Ling, bring him some tea. Mr. De la Croix, what would you like to eat? I gather it has been a long time since you've tasted good food. Mrs. Ling makes the best."

The old woman beamed with pride. "I make special tea help you get strong and young again."

"Ah, if only that were possible," he said, smiling a grin gaping with missing teeth.

Ollie hung back shyly. "And who is this?" Gilbert asked.

Adriana urged him over. "Gilbert, this is Pascal."

"Why, this is Ollie?" Gilbert exclaimed. "What a strong young man you've grown into. You were just a sprite when I saw you last."

He reached his hand out and Ollie took it, gingerly accepting the man's handshake.

"We couldn't have made it here without him," Adriana said. "He's a first class officer."

Chauncy took one look at the brightly colored bird and went straight for it, yapping excitedly. The frightened creature flew into the rigging.

"Chauncy, no!" Adriana scolded. Mr. Pickles assumed a comfortable seat and shrieked down his answer.

"
Salaud
!"

"He says that a lot. What does it mean?" Adriana asked.

Ollie giggled. "It is a bad word."

Gilbert grimaced. "I will teach him not to say it."

"Perhaps Chauncy deserves it. He treats Mrs. Ling's chickens much the same way."

The howling wind would smother away the dog's yipping, but to be safe Adriana collected him. She held him against her chest gladly accepting his wet kisses.

Elation was bursting inside her like Fourth of July fireworks. They had done it! They were nearly ready to return home again and...

And what?

It didn't matter. All her worries and all her fears suddenly seemed small. All she cared about was seeing the look on Christian's face when he laid eyes on his father again.

She turned toward the stern hatch and set her little dog on the ladder. "There you go. Down, Chauncy. Good boy."

Mrs. Bailey stood below, preparing to come on deck. Her face brightened.

"Thank the heavens!" she exclaimed. "I was ever so frightened. Child, I am withering away with worry!"

"I am fine, Mrs. Bailey. I encountered not a single tribulation." Adriana handed the dog down.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, look at your cheek! You are bleeding! And your clothes are soaked through." Mrs. Bailey dropped Chauncy and started up the ladder. She stepped on deck and stopped short as she saw Gilbert. "Is this the rascal's father?"

"Mrs. Bailey, this is Gilbert De la Croix."

"Hmph. You will excuse me if I do not offer my hand." Her nose wrinkled. "Gracious, when did you last bathe? I can smell you over here."

"Please forgive Mrs. Bailey. She does not travel well."

"Ha! I do not hostage well, nor do I ransom well."

"
Sacre Bleu
, what is she saying?"

"Never mind." Adriana stepped aside as Mrs. Ling returned with the tea and a plate of buttered bread smeared with her famous strawberry preserves. "Soon we shall all be on our way home, and this will be past."

She went to the rail and stared into the night, willing the white hull of Lady Luck's quarter boat to appear in the darkness.

Please
, she prayed.
Let them be unharmed
.

* * *

Fire burned Henri's forearm. He'd never run so fast before, it seemed his feet were flying. At any moment another shot would explode and the dark night would turn into the darker nothingness of death. Footsteps followed him through the grass, but he didn't dare turn around. In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't Christian. The boy was too weak to run this fast.

He leapt through a thick bramble, off the path, and found himself spiraling down a steep hill. His legs gave out then and he tumbled, over and under, onto his injured arm with a brilliant burst of pain. The ocean whizzed past his vision, white caps glistening in the moonlight, as he rolled head over heels.

He finally stopped, splayed under a wide-canopied tree of some sort, his mouth full of grass and dirt. His vision was blurred. He was aware of nothing but the searing pain slicing through his forearm.

Henri moved one leg, then the other. Nothing seemed to be broken. He used his good arm to roll his battered body over and drag himself into the scrub near the tree's base. He collapsed and lay still just as two pairs of booted feet ran past. He thought they were gone when suddenly voices almost on top of him startled him from near unconsciousness.

"Look over there."

Guards. They spoke French.

"He went this way, I tell you."

"There's no way down over here."

"He's shark bait. Forget him."

Misery shook him to his very bones. Henri wracked his memory; had there been one shot, or two?

Was Christian still alive?

* * *

Adriana paced the deck as rain pummeled the ship. They still had time left to search, yet unease pried at her nerves. She hated sitting here, unmoving, worried Christian and Henry might have been taken by the current and were in fact past them. Still, it would be foolish to haul anchor and drift any farther with the kedge. It was three a.m., still two hours before dawn.

Something must have gone wrong.

The rain turned to drizzle and Mr. Ling joined her on deck. "Still much time. You must rest."

"No." She stared at the dim line where black sky met an even blacker sea. The moon had come out and then disappeared again a hundred times, each time revealing an empty ocean for endless miles.

He took off his slicker and draped it over her shoulders. Adriana managed a smile.

"You stay dry, not catch cold. Confucius say, man who care for health, health care back for him. Same for woman."

"Thank you, Mr. Ling."

"What you do for Mr. Croix very good. Your father be proud."

She turned to him. "You knew Gilbert. Did you know...of the things that happened before I was born?"