The Raider (Montgomery/Taggert 9)

“Here, take this,” Jess commanded her sister, handing her a canvas bag.

“You did get it.”

“We bought every pot of black dye Boston had to sell. Is everyone ready to start distributing it? We don’t have much time.”

“We’re ready.” She put her hand on Jess’s arm. “The admiral moved the trial to tomorrow. The winds were good and his officers arrived a day earlier than expected.”

“Then the people of Warbrooke will have to work tonight,” Jess said firmly.

“But nothing will be dry,” Eleanor began, then stopped. “They’ll wear them wet, then. Jess, have you slept?”

“No! She paced the deck over my head all night so I, too, did not sleep,” Nick moaned.

“You look healthy to me,” Eleanor said.

Nick grabbed her waist and pulled her to him. “Come, we have work to do.”

All night the Taggert children ran from one house to another, slipping through the shadows, whispering directions and plans.

The Wentworths did their job of entertaining the admiral and his officer friends with a noisy party that distracted the men from anything going on outside.

Jessica had given Marianna orders to keep her husband busy. “Even if you have to sleep with him,” she’d said.

Marianna had paled. “I guess I owe Alex that much. I wish I’d believed in him.”

“I wish I had, too,” Jess murmured.

Eleanor had tried to get in to see Alex while Jess was gone, but the guards had refused to let her see him. There was a double row of guards surrounding the building where he was held and she couldn’t sneak past them.

By dawn, Eleanor had the children in bed, their faces showing their exhaustion. On impulse, she pushed Jess, fully clothed, in with them. “Be still or you’ll wake them.”

Jess was too weary to protest. She slept.

* * *

Alexander’s trial before the English judges was a farce. They knew he was guilty before a word had been spoken. He was still wearing his black silk clothes, his hands tied behind his back, as he stood in the prisoners’ box.

There were very few people from Warbrooke at the trial, only a few girls whose sighs were audible as Alex stood with his shoulders back, chest out, legs apart and black whisker stubble on his sharply cut cheeks.

“Quiet them,” a judge commanded.

A bailiff brought forth Alex’s Raider mask and tied it in place while Alex stood impassively.

The girls in the gallery gave a swooning sigh.

“It looks to me that he’s this Raider,” a judge said and the others nodded.

The admiral nodded smugly toward the men surrounding him. It was essential to him that he impress these men.

“Hang him.”

The bailiff grabbed Alex’s arm and was about to lead him away when a man came flying through the window, glass going everywhere. He was dressed entirely in black with a mask just like the Raider’s.

“So! You think you caught me, do you?” the masked man yelled delightedly.

“What’s the meaning of this?” a judge roared. He pointed at the admiral. “I thought you’d caught the scoundrel.”

“I did,” the admiral yelled. “This is an imposter.”