Page 64 of The Pirate Lord
“No. It’s too late.”
“What about the rest of the island? There will be nothing left!”
Pain spasmed over his features before he masked it. “I don’t think the forest will catch fire. The huts are a good distance from the trees. Besides, the woods are green and won’t burn well. But the huts are gone. We might as well accept that. Now we’ve got to get aboard the ship and cast off before it catches fire, too.”
His bleak acquiescence tore at her. “You can’t just leave it all to burn!” Sara cried as the other women gathered around her.
“He’s right, lass,” Silas said. He came up beside Gideon. His brown beard was gray with streaks of ash, and sweat poured from his red forehead. “We can’t stop it. We’ll have to let it run its course and pray it doesn’t sweep the rest of the island.”
“Maybe if we wet down the other huts—” Sara began.
“As if any of you care what happens to our houses,” Barnaby exploded beside her. He’d fought the fire valiantly, and now his fancy clothes were water-stained and streaked with soot. “One of you women left the fire going, and I think we ought to know who it is. Louisa?”
“Leave her be,” Silas barked, tugging Louisa into the curve of his arm protectively. “The lass ain’t done nothin’.”
“Maybe it was Ann,” Barnaby spat. “I haven’t seen her. Have any of you? She was angry about having to choose a husband. Maybe she decided to wreak a little havoc on her enemies.”
The men nearby began to grumble, their eyes hostile.
“Don’t be absurd.” Sara swept her matted hair back with a weary hand. “Ann couldn’t do such a thing.”
Undeterred, Barnaby fixed his gaze on Sara. “All the same, one of your blasted convict women did it. We’ve never had a fire on this island before. One of your women set fire to our kitchen, and you probably put them up to it.”
“Shut up, Barnaby!” Gideon growled. “It doesn’t matter who started it. We’ve got more important things to worry about?—”
“Cap’n?” interrupted a small voice from among the men. The crowd parted to let a young boy pass through. Gideon’s cabin boy. His face was pale and streaked with tears. “It’s my fault, sir. Mr. Kent called me outside to help with gathering wood, and I f-forgot to put the fire in the stove out. I was cooking b-bacon in the pan, y’see, and I thought I put it aside?—”
“It doesn’t matter, lad,” Gideon said gently, ruffling the boy’s hair. “But you were brave to come forward.” He looked sternly at Barnaby and the other men. “And no purpose will be served by throwing accusations about. We’ll be better off spending our time emptying the huts of anything valuable and saving theSatyr.”
The men went pale. Clearly none of them had thought about the ship, but now they cast it worried glances. Sara did, too. Even she knew that canvas sails burned all too easily.
“Go tell the men to clear out the rest of the huts, Silas,” Gideon ordered, “then get them aboard ship.” He turned to Sara. “Gather the women and make sure they all get aboard. And find Ann.”
“She’s already aboard. I sent her to the ship with the children when this started.”
“Thank God. I didn’t even think about the children.” He raked his fingers wearily through his hair. “It’s time the rest of us joined them. We don’t know how long or far it will rage before it plays itself out.”
“But Gideon, we can’t just let it burn!”
“Do as I say, Sara!” When he saw her recoil, he added more softly, “Sometimes you have to recognize when you’ve lost. It seems Mother Nature has taken the matter out of our hands. Now all that’s left is to pray she doesn’t take the entire island away from us.”
Chapter Eighteen
I’ll sit beside you your grief to lighten
And put my arm round your waist, asthore’
And in a while she began to brighten
With hugs, and kisses, and the divil knows more.
— —JAMES N. HEALY, “MY SUNDAY MORNING MAIDEN”
It was several hours later when Sara finally ventured out on the deck of theSatyr.She and the others had fallen into their beds exhausted just before midnight when Gideon had told them there was no point in staying up any longer. The fire had mostly died out by then, but no one had possessed the strength to see it through to the bitter end.
Bracing herself, she looked toward the beach that lay a few hundred yards away, then let out a horrified gasp. Though nothing had changed since her last view of the island, it seemed even more shocking after a few hours sleep.
Every single building had been destroyed, down to the wood floors. The impassive moon shone down on what remained—wide black squares on the sandy ground, like so many patches ona creamy quilt. Smoke drifted up from those to poison the clear night air and lend an unreal cast to the entire scene.
