Windmera-Desperation

“Yes, France and the Reign of Terror,” she said, suddenly brightening. Englishmen were forever secretly crossing the channel to head for Paris and save the French aristocracy from Madame Guillotine. The tales of their bravery were legendary.

“Aye, we been dealing with it, we have. The revenuers been scouring the seas because of it, going after any boat crossing they

can find.” He eyed her. “Ye might get lucky if they stop and search us.”

“Oh, Bunky, if only that could happen without you getting into trouble,” Heather whispered.

“Aye, there would be hell to pay,” he said, and rubbed his chin. “Colin won’t be taken easily.”

The time passed slowly as they sailed under the cover of darkness into French waters. Bunky returned to his chores and after a time she saw him again. He plopped down heavily beside her and said, “We’ll be pulling into St. Pol-de-Léon early morning, miss.” He shook his head. “Careful we have to be. The Frogs…revolutionaries, don’t like the English any more than they do the gentry.”

Heather saw Colin approaching. He had an odd look on his face as he studied her and Bunky sitting beside one another. In fact, as he got closer, she saw his eyes narrow and became worried for her new friend.

“Look at you two. Fancy her, do you, Bunky? Well…forget it, her sort will break your heart. I know. So unless you mean to take her here in front of all the crew, best leave her be and forget her now.”

Bunky shook his head and his voice sounded agonized. “Colin, don’t.”

Colin laughed and moved off. A few of the crew members looked at Bunky and one said, “Sad times. Don’t hold with this, don’t let him get on ye, lad.” This seaman couldn’t or wouldn’t look at Heather as he added, “Tell the lass none of us are happy about this.”

“It’s good ye keep her company, lad,” another crew member said, and glared at Colin’s retreating form.

Colin evidently heard his men at his back and shook his head as he stomped off.

Heather leaned into Bunky and said, “Do you think I could have some water, Bunky? My throat is parched.”

He jumped up and she watched the lad stumble as he rushed off towards the water barrel. He filled a mug and she saw him stop short as he looked out onto the bustling docks with its traffic of wagons, carriages, and pedestrians.

She sighed, and watched as everyone got busy docking, and wished there was some way she could get off the sloop, make a run for it, and vanish into the crowd.

The day was grey, and there was a promise of rain as market peddlers hawked their wares, servants rushed about buying supplies, and if matters hadn’t been so dire, Heather would have smiled at all the bickering and haggling over goods taking place.

Bunky, however, seemed riveted in place as he stared into the horde of people. Heather frowned, wondering what he saw and then following his line of vision, she realized. He was staring at a young woman, probably not much older than she was herself. Heather’s heart sank when she realized what the girl was. There could be no doubt. The girl was a harlot, obviously on the prowl for a customer. It was early morning and Heather thought it an odd time for the poor woman to be looking for a customer.

A passing seaman stopped to give the woman a grin and pat her on the rump. She slid closer to him and drew his hand into her bodice, but what struck Heather was the look of horror on Bunky’s face. He went white.

She saw him watching the woman with dread as she led off her client towards a nearby inn. He swallowed hard and came to Heather, shoving the mug of water at her and saying, “That’s it, I can’t and won’t be a party to this. I can’t let him sell ye off to sech a fate. Bless and preserve me, for I can’t do it.”

She sipped at the water, getting her thoughts together. She trusted the young man, but would he be capable of getting her away? “Bunky…how can you stop him?”

“All I know is I promise ye and the Almighty I’ll get ye away. I know two or three of the men who will look the other way when we make our move, aye, they will. They don’t hold with this and…I’ll get ye off and away.”

“Bunky, he’ll know. You won’t be able to free me and remain with him and the crew.” Heather was concerned for the lad.

He shrugged, and shook his head. “Lookee at that. Ye are in a terrible fix and ye are worried about me? No. I don’t mean to let Colin do this to ye, I don’t. If this is the kind of business he means to foist on us, I’m thinking I don’t want to stay in his employ—that I don’t. Lookee, this is what I’m thinking. Colin will be off any minute now. His first concern is getting a shipment to sell to the land runners. They’ll be waiting on it, ye see. They is the ones that take the brandy overland to the largest taverns. Some take the brandy to London if they have a mind. So he’ll be busy for a bit. He won’t take ye to that…that place ‘til evening as we sail through cover of darkness, ye see. So I’m thinking he can’t very well tie and gag ye on the open street in daylight, can he? No, so he’ll do it at night with a hood pulled low over yer head. That’s what I’m thinking. So we’ll wait and make our move then. So then it is settled, we wait ‘til then and by the Divine Power, we’ll make a run for it.”

“But…” Heather started.

“Hush, now. I’ll tell the men to start hollering after me. That will keep them from getting into trouble with Colin, and it will draw a crowd. The crew won’t follow us, I know they won’t. I can tell. They’ll send Colin in another direction. They be good blokes. Smugglers, aye, but good men all the same.”

“Where will we go?” Heather asked, excited now.

“I don’t know, miss. But we’ll figure it out,” Bunky said, and sighed as he sat back against the bulwarks.

Colin returned to the sloop with the dusk, and he was in very good spirits. He preened over the purchase of brandy he had concluded and shot a leering eye towards Heather and Bunky. Heather was sure he was well into his cups as he slurred and swaggered.

“Eh, lad, I don’t want you pining over this mort. I can see you fancy her. So what I think is you need to get her out of your system. Fair enough,” Colin said, and took a long swig of the brandy he had been sampling a good part of the afternoon.

“What are ye saying, Colin?” Bunky played along.