"How's Father?"

"Same as before. Poorly, but no worse. He misses you."

Somewhat mollified and ever practical, Hope peered over his shoulder into the darkness. "Who's with you?"

"n.o.body."

Hope thought for a moment. "That's clever. Draw less attention. We've always managed fine by ourselves, you and I."

"How bad are you hurt?"

"My ankle's broken but strapped up."

"Will it tek yer weight?"

Hope grimaced. "It will be slow going, but with your help, it'll do."

Tom frowned. "Are they treating you well?"

She wondered about the change of topic. "Yes, now if you can just..."

"Feeding you right?"

"Yes, the best food I've had in an age. Now, if I can open the window a tad wider..."

"Not been cruel to you, cos I'll strangle 'em with me bare hands if they have."

"No, nothing like that, the opposite in fact...and I've learned a thing or two when they thought I weren't listening. Now, did you bring a rope? I can tie it to the bedpost and winch myself down."

"Hope Tyler, will you be quiet a minute and listen!"

"Oh!"

"Have you any idea how difficult this climb is? And me with two strong legs!"

Hope bit her tongue.

"There's no way you'll make it down with a broken ankle. No way!"

"Then sling me over your shoulder.'

"No, Hope. We'd both fall to our deaths. Trust me, I'll think of something but for now, best stay here."

"Don't you dare leave me. Not again." Hope grasped her stepbrother's fingers. "They're going to hang me."

"If they were going to do that, you'd have been carted to prison straight out. No, I reckon as how you're safe there a while longer. Let the ankle heal but pretend as how it's much worse than it is...that you can't walk...and I'll be back before you know it."

"But, Tom, they're going to move me any day...I know."

"Don't fret. I've friends in the village. As soon as there's any talk of moving you-I'll be back."

Hope suppressed a rising sob. "Please, don't make me beg. I can make it. Please, let me try."

"No, and that's an end of it. I give me word I'll be back."

The disappointment was bitter; to be left once was bad enough, but twice felt like betrayal. A wind squall tugged at Tom's hair. He shifted his handhold and glanced around. "I'd best be going. None too safe here as it is."

"Tom," she hissed, "listen and listen well."

"Make it quick then, I'm losing me grip."

"I overheard the guards. The Excise men know all about the next landing-time, place, everything. It's a trap."

"Well done, sis. I'll see everyone is warned. Best keep your ears open, see what else you can find out."

Had she had two good legs Hope would have stamped her foot.

"Right. Bye then." He reached to touch his sister, but lost his handhold and disappeared from view.

"Tom?" Hope heart lurched afresh. "Tom, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, slipped a bit that's all," a strained voice spoke several feet below. "Best be off."

Hope waited to hear the rea.s.suring thud of boots on the ground below, shut the window and made her lonely way back to bed.

Chapter Four.

It was the sort of foul night which saw all decent citizens home abed, with not so much as a dog stirring. But while the good people of Sandehope slept, above the rooftops clouds broiled in a h.e.l.lish sky and a wind howled in off the sea, rattling shutters and stirring curtains. And such rain-beating horizontally against windows and doors, forming slick, black rivers in the backstreets and lanes. In the harbor the horizon was lost behind the elements. Rigging whistled and flapped with a sound like harpies. It was a night for doing the devil's work, a night when only smugglers and Excise men were abroad.

On that night, a lone figure battled along the quay, his coat collar turned up and hat pulled down. His face was hidden, which was just as well for the Captain wore a look which would chill the devil. In a mood as grim as the weather, he made for the Excise Office. Windy squalls battered the windows, the door almost wrestled from Huntley's grasp as he entered. With his boots full of water and a sodden overcoat, he squelched across the office and with an irritated gesture, pushed the wet hair from his eyes. He unlocked the desk drawer, pulled out a hip flask and drank deeply. As the brandy warmed his throat and gullet, frustration a.s.sailed him afresh.

"d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n."

Several minutes later Bennett slunk in to join him, accompanied by the stench of stale fish. He leant back against the door to close out the buffeting wind. Huntley regarded him sourly and took another swig of brandy.

"Drink's not the answer." Bennett said in a humorless tone.

"Here. Have some."

"Thanks."

Stepping over the puddles on the wooden floor, Bennett took the flask. Huntley's nose wrinkled at the pervading smell of fish clinging to the preventative man's uniform.

"Go on, say it!"

"Say what, Captain?"

"That was a disaster. An unmitigated, b.l.o.o.d.y disaster."

Bennett looked haggard, as he leaned on the desk and hung his head. "Worse than that. The revenue are a laughing stock."

"Devious b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, landing offal instead of brandy."

The Captain watched Bennett closely; he seemed genuinely distraught. It was Huntley's job to root out corruption, but Bennett's fervor and dedication had not been those of a turncoat.

Bennett eyed the Captain wearily. "I'd trust our informant with my life and yet they outwitted us."

Huntley leaned back and steepled his fingers. "In some ways, you have to admire their daring."

"Captain?"

"They could have canceled the landing." His voice hitched with bitterness. "Instead, they ran rings around the Excise service. An entire squad out in this filthy weather. Had us chasing shadows and left us stinking of fish offal. Smug b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

"It's true." Bennett shook his head sadly, which served to irritate Huntley."Someone warned them we were onto them. But who?" He growled.

"I hope you're not insinuating I had anything to do with it."

"No one is above suspicion."

"Does that include the pretty smuggler tucked up at The Grange?" The bile in Bennett's voice caught Huntley by surprise.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, Captain, someone has still to answer for Cooper's murder."

"Then we want the same thing."

"Do we?"

"Of course." Huntley's flesh crept. It was unlike Bennett to be so insubordinate. "Why would you think differently?"

"Tis not just me saying this, Captain, but most folks hereabouts. They can't understand why she is featherbedded, when the smugglers killed an officer."

"I will bring whoever shot Cooper to justice, I give my word."

"Good. We've given your plan long enough and now it's time the girl is moved to jail."

"Sergeant, you rise above yourself. That's my decision, no one elses."

"Well, if I were in your shoes..."

It had been a long, hard night and the need for soft words escaped Huntley. "And if you'd done your job adequately, I wouldn't have been posted here." His expression set hard.

Two hot spots appeared on Bennett's lined cheeks. "I do my best with limited resources. Most folk hereabouts benefit from smuggling one way or another, why, even the parson's nightcap is a particularly fine brandy, or so I've heard."

"And with Cooper's death opinions will harden against the smugglers. People will see them for the felons they are."

"You are right, but be warned, Captain Huntley, and I say this as a friend. There are murmurs of men taking matters into their own hands-a lynching party for the girl-if you do not act soon to avenge Cooper's murder."

In exasperation, Huntley ran his hand through his hair. "Look here, Bennett, it's late...or rather, early. Let's stop now before words are said which are regretted later."

Bennett's mouth formed a thin line. "She needs to be in jail before things get out of hand."

Huntley took a deep breath. "I hear what you're saying, but Miss Tyler didn't fire the fatal shot. I know that, because she was being chased across the dunes at the time-by me."

"That's as maybe, but..."

"But nothing. Say we put her in jail. When things calm down and folk realise the Revenue put a girl in a filthy cell to rot...what then? Because I tell you, doors will close in our faces. The locals will close ranks and we'll be no nearer to catching the ringleaders. And that's who we want-the men financing the ring."

"Aye, and happen folks will say that you hadn't the stomach to let her swing, because you are sweet on her."

The accusation turned the Captain's stomach.

"The dirty minded little..." Huntley clenched his fists.

Bennett spoke quietly. "So, Captain? Best send her to jail?"

Huntley started to pace. There were things he wanted to say which Bennett would not understand. He longed to tell him of Hope's loyalty, that she would hang rather than give away the conspirators. That she had been a worthy adversary on the dunes, a woman whose match he had never encountered before, and that she was protecting people.

"We want the real felons, those that finance the smuggling runs. On my honor, I will track those men down and bring them to justice."

"Captain." Bennett couldn't meet his eye.

"I have a plan, but don't imagine it will be popular. As soon as Miss Tyler can travel, I'm sending her home."

"Funny, sir, for a moment I could have sworn you said you'd free the girl."

"I did. She'll be followed of course, watched twenty-four hours a day."

The light of comprehension dawned across Bennett's face.

"Ah, use her to lead you to the ringleaders."

"Exactly."

Huntley should have been triumphant, but instead he felt hollow-hollow because it meant using Miss Tyler.

"Very good, Captain."

Huntley grimaced. "Now go home, I can't abide that smell any longer."

"What about you sir? Hadn't you best be off too?"