James looked down at Corrie, her knee still pressed against the man’s neck, he, no fool, still lying perfectly still, and said, “Well done, Corrie, now back away from him. That’s it.”
Once Corrie was clear, James said to the man he would very likely recognize, “Now, I’m not going to take off your mask which means if I went to Bow Street I couldn’t give them a description of you. Truth is, I don’t want to know who you are or what you’re smuggling. I want you to get up and walk toward your men. When you reach them, I want you to get all of them in the boats. Go, now, or I’ll have to shoot you and you won’t have to worry about anything at all, ever again.”
“The two of you,” the man remarked as he rose slowly to his feet, gingerly feeling his throat that had so recently enjoyed Corrie’s knee. “I hadn’t appreciated how very good you are together. It is a pity that-well, never mind.” He turned and trotted down t
he beach toward the boats and his men. The man was standing at the bow, looking back at them. He cupped his mouth in his hands and yelled, “I ask only that you keep out of the cave!”
Within minutes the men were shoving the boats out into the water, then jumping in.
The man raised his hand in a salute.
“There’s a ship, James, I can see it now,” Corrie said, pointing.
“Yes,” he said. “I wonder what they were smuggling.”
“Maybe they left something in that cave. Let’s go look.”
James thought about it as he kept his eyes on the retreating boats. The sea was choppy, the wind rising.
“You know what? I don’t give a good damn what’s in the cave, if anything. Let’s get out of here instead.”
She looked disappointed, but nodded, taking his hand, and together they walked back up the path to the top of the cliff.
As they stood on the edge of the cliff, looking out toward the two boats, far distant now, nearly to the ship, the sky began to lighten.
“It’s nearly dawn,” Corrie said, wonder in her voice. “It seems more like three weeks have passed.”
“Amen to that,” James said. “I would swear there was something familiar about that man.”
“I think you’re right. It’s probable we do know him or at least know who he is.”
“A gentleman smuggler.”
“He moved well. Of course he wasn’t good enough to take the both of us.”
James grinned, shook his head at her. “At this point I don’t care who or what he is. I saw you shiver. Don’t do that again. You don’t want to get ill from this, all right? Just keep thinking how excellent you feel, how warm you are in my coat. Let’s go, Corrie.” She stretched a moment, then shivered again, a good shiver. “Actually, I am feeling excellent since that short nap. I must say too that when I put my knee on his throat, I remembered that was what I did to Willie Marker, and it made me feel even better.”
“Poor Willie, and all he wanted was a kiss.”
She shuddered.
“Now, I want you to keep that coat real close. Just keep thinking how good you feel. No illness, Corrie. That’s one thing we can’t afford.”
The coat was wet, but she pulled it close. It was better than nothing. She looked at James, his white shirt damp, the wind slicing through it, making the sleeves billow.
It started drizzling again.
They didn’t see a single living creature until after the sun was up. They heard cows mooing.
“Glory be, I don’t believe it,” Corrie yelled. “Where there are cows there have to be people to milk them.”
Hand in hand, they ran in the direction of the mooing. There was a farmhouse, the back of it facing the sea, the front bordering a narrow road, and on the other side was a good-sized pasture and beyond the pasture, a forest of elm and maple trees. The house was built of gray stone, a hulking ugly house with a barn attached. At the moment, it was the most glorious structure either of them had ever seen.
“Oh, there’s smoke coming out of the chimney. That means it’s got to be warm in there.”
They ran to the front of the house, panting, and James called out, “Is there anyone here? We’re in need of assistance!”
From behind the closed door, an old voice said, “I don’t give no assistance to no one. Go away.”