Travers turned, instinctively ducking when he saw the blade. Alexis had already accounted for this action and had adjusted her aim slightly lower. What she had not accounted for, could not have adjusted for, was the sudden presence of Ian Smith returning to his quarters. Forgetting the captain might still be there, Smith did not bother to announce his entry into his own cabin. Flinging the door open, he saved his captain’s life and nearly lost his own.
Once released from Alexis’s grasp, the dagger had no choice but to follow the course she had set for it. Alexis watched in horror as Travers was knocked to one side and the dagger, narrowly missing him, found its mark, not in Travers, but in the lieutenant’s abdomen.
Smith staggered backward against the doorjamb, not taking his eyes from Alexis. Before he slid to the deck she was at his side, lowering him gently. Travers was on his feet, fists clenched, face livid with rage. He stared at the dagger imbedded in Smith, knowing it was meant for him.
“Bitch!” he cursed. He raised his hand to strike her.
Alexis lifted her head, not cowering from his raised hand. “Don’t just stand there,” she ordered, forgetting who was in command. “Hit me or don’t. Then get Dr. Jackson. Hurry!”
Travers did not move for what seemed an eternity to Alexis. Slowly his hand came to his side, and when he left the cabin she knew she had only escaped his retribution for the time being. She brushed the perspiration from Smith’s brow and shook her head sadly.
“It wasn’t you. It was never meant for you.”
Smith managed to find his voice while he tried to forget the burning pain in his gut.
“Why? Why do you hate him so much?”
“Not now. You mustn’t talk. Please, don’t die. I couldn’t bear it if you did. I only wanted him!”
Smith smiled weakly. His hand clutched the hilt of the dagger. “I won’t. In exchange for the truth. I will live if you’ll tell me the truth.”
“What?” she asked anxiously. She tried to see past his pain-contorted face to the young man. The boyish features were no longer in evidence. His skin was drawn tight, his mouth set hard as he pulled at his lower lip with his teeth to keep from crying out. “What is it you want to know?”
“Your name.”
Alexis leaned over him, putting her mouth near his ear. In a hushed voice she told him her name. When she drew herself up to look in his eyes to see if they registered astonishment at her disclosure she could tell nothing. His eyes were closed and he was unconscious.
She did not protest when Travers returned with the doctor and several other crewmen and she was led away from the injured man. She said nothing when she was thrown into a vacant storage compartment. The door was locked and the light was taken away. She sat in a corner, listening to the sound of the retreating sailors and wondered how long it would be before Travers decided to be rid of her. While she thought of that Cloud’s face eluded her. The only face she saw was the lieutenant’s.
“She didn’t give you any trouble?” Travers asked his men when they returned from taking Alexis away. They shook their heads. “Good. Stay away from her. Pass the word to everyone aboard the ship. Her mind is not well. She meant to kill me with that damn knife of hers.” He pointed to Smith, now lying on the bed, and asked the doctor, “Is he going to live?”
“I think so, Captain. It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Keep me informed.”
“About the girl, sir,” Jackson ventured. “Is she to be given anything? Food? Water?”
“No! Nothing. It won’t matter to her. I tell you, she’s quite mad.”
When Jackson was alone he returned to the treatment of his friend, wondering who the captain was trying to convince when he disparaged the girl’s sanity.
Cloud met Lafitte in the dressing room adjoining his bedroom. He was exhausted from the work he had shared equally with the men. The hold of theDark Ladyand the splintered railing had been repaired. They all had worked as if possessed. Even Peach had refused to remain in bed with his injured leg. Jordan fashioned him a crutch and the boy pounded nails and mended sail right along with everyone else.
“A hard day?” Lafitte asked when Cloud collapsed into a chair.
“A very hard day. We’re making progress. We might even be done ahead of schedule.”
“Bien.Travers is not pleased with my evasions. I think he wants to leave here as soon as possible.”
“Don’t let that happen,” Cloud said earnestly.
Lafitte smiled. “I will do everything in my power to prevent it,mon ami,though it is torture to have him under my roof.”
“I could take him off your hands.”
“No. You will have your chance later—when he is far from Barataría. Rest now and do not join us for breakfast. Travers returned to his ship this evening, mentioning some unfinished business he had to attend to, but he will be here in the morning. I only hope Pierre will join us. I have not seen him take such an instant dislike to someone before. He dreads tomorrow’s meeting.”
“As I am sure you must.”
