Page 44 of Miss Whittier Makes a List
“Avoid it any way you can,”Spark replied firmly.“Didn’t I once promise you almond cake and fresh water in my home?”
So thee did, she thought as she left the hospital in the careful company of the Marine. We have talked about a great many things,and I have kissed thee too much for my own peace of mind. I do not know what I was thinking, but does anyone think enough, under those sweet circumstances? She doubted it.
“I think we’ll have to walk, ma’am,”the Marine said,intruding on her thoughts.“Seems like every spare conveyance is already taking someone to or from theearthworks.”
She nodded and followed his lead throughthe streets crowded with a weirdcollection of local citizens hagglingin the marketplaces for their supper, soldiers heading for the fortifications, wounded coming from distant battlefields, and sailors prowling the waterfrontAllaround was noise and confusion; she longed for the quiet coolness of the church where she had said goodbye to Daniel after another kiss that went on far too long and left her feeling restless.
“A bit disorderly,”the Marine commented, looking about him with some distaste. He kept his hand at her elbow and hurried her along through a crowd of drunken Light Bobs.“Give me the open sea any day, where the decks are well scrubbedand the canvas tight.”
Hannah nodded. She looked up at her protector.“Thank you for your help. I can put that dispatch in your hands as soon as we get to the consulate.”
“And I will take it right back to the captain,”he replied. He hesitated a moment, whether to confide something, and then continued.“He called for you last night. I think he had a touch of fever.”
And I wasn’t there, she thought. Nor will I be there if he should call again.“I will trust you to see that he gets the care he needs,”she told the Marine, her eyes on the long driveway up to the consulate.“I do not think he and I will meet again. I am bound forHolland.”
The Marine frowned down at her.“I call that a bl ... blinking shame, ma’am, if you’llpardon me. He really is a good man. I wouldn’t have served with him through three cruises, if I didn’t know that.”
They climbed thehillin silence as the sun set over theharbor, turning the water into a silver sheet. So many ships rode at anchor, so many troops streamed ashore to continue the fight against Napoleon. She thought of her own peaceful home onNantucket, where each day was pretty much like the one before it. Her life could take its own quiet course there, with no more of the rude shocks she had experienced during this summer’s adventure.
The consul’s house was brightly lit and the door wide open, discounting any hopes Hannah may have harbored about sneaking back inside. As she walked wearily up the front steps, her Marine in tow, the consul stormed out the open door.
“Where have youbeen?”he thundered after a look at the Marine behind her.
“You would not let me go to the hospital, but I went anyway,”she said, raising her chin up to look him squarely in the eyes.
Before she could protest, the consul grabbed her and pulled her inside, slamming the door after him. The Marine knocked on the door and then pounded upon it, but the consul ignored his efforts.“Go away!”he roared at last, not relinquishing his hold on Hannah.
Helet her go when the knocking stopped and shook his finger in her face.“You will go right to your room and remain there, Miss Whittier! Don’t you know there is a war on out there?”
“I know better than you do!”she stormed back.“The British have their backs to the sea here and no one to depend on but themselves.”
He pulled her further into the house toward the stairs and gave her another shake for good measure.“Onewouldthink you sympathized with those who destroyour shipping and impress American citizens. I do not want to seeyour face again until the ambassador sails forHolland, Miss Whittier.”
With a sob, she ran up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her.She sat on the bed a moment to collect her thoughts, then hurried to the window drapery, where she had hidden theBergerondispatch in the wide hem. It was still there. She flung open the window, but the Marine was long gone.“Drat!”she exclaimed and threw herself down on the bed. Somehow she would have to leavethe consulate again in themorning, this time with the dispatch, and take it to the captain.
She satup. Perhaps Adam could do it. She went to the door, and turned the handle, but it was locked. She pounded on the door. No answer.“I was better treated by the British!”she shouted through the heavy oak paneling.
The house was silent. She went tothewindow again, looked down two floors to the paving stones below,and sighed. She lay down onherbed and curled herself into a little ball.
The morning brought breakfast on a tray, deliveredby a tight-lipped servant and followed by Adam Winslow. The maid set the tray on the table by the bed and Adam lifted the cloth that coveted it. He whistled and rolled his eyes ather.
“At least it is not bread and water, which I am sure is all the consul thinks theedeserves,”heobserved as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.“Hannah, what is the matter with thee? I disremember thee ever behaving like this onNantucket.”
She ignored him, eating her way steadily through the food on the tfont>ay, and looking around for more. When she could find none, she went to the drapery and pulled out theBergerondispatchand slapped it in Adam’s hand.
“Wehave to get this to Captain Spark.”she said.
“I can assure that the consul has no intention of letting thee wander the streets ofLisbonagain,”Adam told her.“And don’t get those tears in thy eyes and look so stubborn! Hannah, this isstill not our fight”
“How can thee say that?”she replied.“There is a traitor in the British government.”
“What is that to us?”he asked baldly, taking her by both hands.“Hannah, thee is behavinglikea school miss.”
She shook off his grip.“Thee will not help me, Adam Winslow?”she asked.
“I will not help thee,”he replied.“We sail tomorrow morning forHolland, and then home.”He left the room then. In another moment, the key turned in the lock.
Her first impulse was to bang on the door, and rage andscreamuntil hervoicewas raw, butshequickly discarded both ideas as unproductive in the extreme. All that remained was the window. She went to it again and opened itwide, hoping that during the night the house had shrunk two floors and the ground underneath her window was flowerbeds of soft dirt instead opaving stones. Nothing had changed. Ifanything, the ground looked farther away. This is not fair, she thought, resting her chin on her hands and staring out the window.
