"Check your list of criminals for the name Winston." He stood unmoving.
"I'm likely there too."
"Is that Hugh Winston, sir?" Morris' eyes narrowed, and he glanced
nervously at the three men behind him holding muskets. Then he looked
back. "We most certainly have orders for your arrest. You've been
identified as the gunnery commander for the rebels here, to say nothing
of charges lodged against you in England. My first priority is Miss
Bedford, but I'll be pleased to do double duty and arrest you as well."
"Fine. Now, see that pistol?" Winston thumbed toward the table. "Look
it over carefully. There're two barrels, both primed. It's part of a
pair. The other one is in my belt. That's four pistol balls. The man
who moves to arrest Miss Bedford gets the first. But if you make me
start shooting, I'm apt to forget myself and not stop till I've killed
you all. So why don't you leave now, Colonel Morris, and forget
everything you saw here." He glanced back at Katherine. "I'm sure Miss
Bedford is willing to forget she saw you. She's had a trying day."
"Damn your impudence, sir." Morris turned and gestured at the men
behind him. "Go ahead and arrest her."
One of the helmeted infantrymen raised his flintlock and waved
Katherine forward.
"No!" Jeremy shouted and lunged toward the soldier. "You can't! I never
meant . . ."
The shot sounded like a crack of thunder in the close room.
Black smoke poured from the barrel of the musket, and Jeremy froze
where he stood, a quizzical expression on his face. He turned to look
back at Katherine, his eyes penitent, then wilted toward the floor, a
patch of red spreading across his chest.
Almost simultaneous with the musket's discharge, the pistol in
Winston's belt was already drawn and cocked. It spoke once, and the
infantryman who had fired dropped, a trickle of red down his forehead.
As the soldier behind him started to raise his own musket, the pistol
gave a small click, rotating the barrel, and flared again. The second
man staggered back against the wall, while his flintlock clattered
unused to the floor.
Now the rickety table in front of Winston was sailing toward the door,
and the pistol that had been lying on it was in his hand. The table
caught the third infantryman in the groin as he attempted to raise his
weapon and sent him sprawling backward. His musket rattled against the
shutters, then dropped.
Morris looked back to see the muzzle of Winston's second flintlock
leveled at his temple.
"Katy, let's go." Winston motioned her forward. "We'll probably have
more company any minute now."
"You're no better than a murderer, sir." Morris finally recovered his
voice.
"I didn't fire the first shot. But by God I'll be the one who fires the
last, that I promise you." He glanced back. "Katy, I said let's go.
Take whatever you want, but hurry."
"Hugh, they've killed Jeremy!" She stood unmoving, shock in her face.
"He wouldn't let me handle this my way." Winston kept his eyes on
Morris. "But it's too late now."
"He tried to stop them. He did it for me." She was shaking. "Oh,
Jeremy, why in God's name?"
"Katy, come on." Winston looked back. "Joan, get her things. We've got
to move out of here, now."
Joan turned and pushed her way through the cluster of Irish girls
standing fearfully in the rear doorway.
"You'll hang for this, sir." Morris eyed the pistol. The remaining
infantryman still sat against the wall, his unfired musket on the floor
beside him.
"The way you'd planned to hang Miss Bedford, no doubt." He motioned
toward Briggs. "Care to collect those muskets for me?"
"I'll have no hand in this, sir." The planter did not move. "You've
earned a noose for sure."
"I'll do it." Katherine stepped across Jeremy's body and assembled the
three muskets of the infantrymen. She carried them back, then
confronted Morris.
"You, sir, have helped steal the freedom of this island, of the
Americas. It's impossible to tell you how much I despise you and all
you stand for. I'd kill you myself if God had given me the courage.
Maybe Hugh will do it for me."
"I'll see the both of you hanged, madam, or I'm not a Christian."
"I hope you try."
Joan emerged through the crowd, toting a large bundle. She laid it on a
table by the door, then turned to Winston. "Here's what we got up at
the compound this afternoon." She surveyed the three bodies sadly.
"Master Jeremy was a fine lad. Maybe he's finally managed to make his
brother proud of him; I'll wager it's all he ever really wanted." She
straightened. "Good Christ, I hope they don't try and shut me down
because of this."
"It wasn't your doing." Winston lifted the bundle with his free hand.
"Katy, can you manage those muskets?"
"I'd carry them through hell."
"Then let's be gone." He waved the pistol at the infantryman sitting
against the wall. "Get up. You and the colonel here are going to keep
us company."
"Where do you think you can go?" Briggs still had not moved. "They'll
comb the island for you."
"They'll look a long time before they find us on Barbados." He shoved
the pistol against Morris' ribs. "Let's be off. Colonel."
"There'll be my men all about." Morris glared. "You'll not get far."
"We'll get far enough." He shifted the bundle under his arm.
"Darlin', Godspeed. I swear I'll miss you." Joan kissed him on the
cheek, then turned to Katherine. "And mind you watch over him in that
place he's headed for."
"Jamaica?"
"No. He knows where I mean." She looked again at Winston. "There's no
worse spot in the Caribbean."
"Don't worry. You'll hear from me." Winston kissed her back, then urged
Morris forward.
"See that you stay alive." She followed them to the door. "And don't
try anything too foolish."
"I always take care." He turned and bussed her on the cheek one last
time. Then they were gone.