"I wouldn't call the slavery question trivial."

"No, I expect you wouldn't. You treat that damn Israel like an equal."

"I treat anyone I respect as an equal! I always have.

It didn't matter whether it was a Sioux dog soldier, or a Mexican officer, or a black man-"

"God," he muttered, "you do have an inordinate fondness for inferior sorts."

"Such as my grandfather? You're absolutely right. My grandfather Philip was one of those inferior sorts-he was nothing when he came to this country. A penniless bastard boy. But he thought America might offer him something Europe couldn't then. A chance to succeed because of what he could do, not what he was. I'm of the opinion this country stands for that. And if my attitude means I'll get involved in this political furor you're so afraid of, then I guess I will. But first of all, I'm going to bring the printing house back into the family."

Bart shook his head. "You won't listen to reason on any subject, will you? Do you really imagine Stovall's going to sell out to someone named Kent?"

"I thought of that. For a while, I'll use my married name."

Bart's cigar had burned out long ago. With a grimace of disgust, he flung the stub into weeds beside the path. He noticed the old man on the porch of the house watching them, roused from his doze by their loud voices.

A sense of desperation filled him then. He was convinced Amanda was charting a course much more dangerous than she was able to recognize. He had to stop her if he could. There was one possible way. He'd glimpsed death in the seas of the Strait of Magellan, and reached a decision. He had to tell her- "Look, sweet," he began, "I think I've said a lot more than I should have about your personal affairs-some of it in a pretty nasty way. I apologize."

Her expression gentled. "Accepted-if you'll accept mine."

He waved that aside. "We've wandered pretty far from what I wanted to say this evening. I told you about the storm we struck rounding the Horn-"

"Yes-Lord, I was frantic with worry when the clipper didn't arrive on schedule-"

"You aren't the only one whose life has changed. I thought we were all going to die before we outran that blow. When we got though it, I realized it was time to make some changes of my own-"

He reached for her shoulders and pulled her against him, inhaling the fresh-scrubbed scent of her skin. His fingertips moved lightly down her back.

"I thought a good deal about what I wanted. I decided what I wanted more than anything was you. I don't mean just occasionally. I mean all the time-"

He hugged her impulsively, and for a moment, silent in the wind, they savored the closeness. The dark had engulfed the semaphore hill and hidden them from the old man watching.

Finally Bart resumed. "I'm about to say something I never imagined I'd say to another female after I got rid of the one who played hob with my life for twelve years-"

A hesitation.

"I love you."

She clasped him tightly. "Oh, Bart-you probably won't believe it because of the way I scold you for some of your notions-"

"Scold me!" He managed a chuckle. "Lop my fool head off with a verbal ax, you mean-"

"You hush and let me speak."

"All right."

"I love you too."

Stunning, unexpected joy welled inside him. Emotion made his words halting. "I-I hardly see how it could be possible. God knows I'm not perfect. Tonight I've demonstrated that amply-"

"A woman doesn't ask for perfection and love in the same package, Bart. To love you, I don't have to agree with every word you utter-"

"Some men expect that of their women."

"Well, you know better than to expect it from me."

He chuckled again. "I surely do. I reckon that's one of the reasons you stick in a fellow's mind-"

Holding her close, his fears of rejection began to seem groundless. He went on with rising enthusiasm. "If what you say about loving me's the gospel truth, Amanda-"

"It is."

"Then don't go back. Stay here with me. Away from the stump speakers and the wild-eyed philosophers and-all the things that can hurt you. Even though California's filling up, we'll be safer than we would be in Charleston, or New York. I'll make a good life for you. For your boy, too-"

He wiped his eyes. When she spoke again, her words and her tone told him she didn't yet understand all he was attempting to say. "You work out of New York, Bart-"

"In the desk in my cabin, there's a paper I drew up three days ago. My resignation. I'll hand it to the Ball brothers at the end of this voyage. The next time I sail to California, it'll be for good. I can find a captain's berth on one of the coastal packets. I know I can-"

Again that affectionate merriment in her voice. "My, it must be love if you're willing to learn to pilot one of those hateful steamships-"

"To be with you I'd do damn near anything. Marry me, Amanda-" He held her waist and poured out all the longing that had grown within him after the perilous passage. "Marry me."

She drew in a breath; she was astonished. "I had no idea you meant to propose-"

"What's so strange about it? People marry all the time!"

She kissed his cheek. "And I love you all the more for asking me. But-"

He pulled back, cold and fearful all at once. "The answer's no?"

"I have an obligation, Bart."

"An obligation to what? To some Latin on a cheap piece of metal?"

"Please don't say that. I wouldn't have shown you Jared's medallion if I thought you'd make sport-"

"I'm not making sport! I'm trying to save you from what you're going to do to yourself!"

"It's my duty to go to Boston. I came from a family that-"

"A family that's nothing anymore. Nothing! Your splendid family consists of one Methodist gospel shouter and one former owner of a Texas whorehouse-"

He could almost feel her wrath like a physical blow. "You certainly have a very peculiar way of demonstrating your affection, Captain McGill."

"Amanda-"

"Do you enjoy being cruel?"

"I'm trying to show you the truth! I care about what happens to you!"

He spun and stalked off into the high grass, hands clenched at his sides.

He'd suspected from the first that she'd refuse him. That was why he'd been so nervous. And now her refusal had unleashed rage again. He hated her strength almost as much as he hated his own lack of self-control- He stood with his head down until his trembling worked itself out. Then, over his shoulder but loud enough for her to hear, he said, "I've botched everything tonight. I'm sorry. I truly am, Amanda-"

He heard her footsteps in the grass. Felt her body against the back of his blue sea jacket. But something in him was dying. Not responding to the clasp of her arms around his waist from behind, nor to the press of her cheek against his shoulder.

"I understand why you're upset. You risk a lot-including pride-when you propose to a woman. I only wish I could say yes-"

His last hope died then-died and disappeared as completely as the house and tower had disappeared, only a short distance above on the hill's black summit. He blinked a couple of times, then pried her hands from his waist. He didn't want to let her know how much he was hurting. He tried to banter. "All right. If there's anything a man should avoid, I reckon it's a committed woman-"

"If what you say about the east is true, I don't think you can stay uncommitted either."

"You just watch! Five thousand miles from New York, I won't be worrying about anything except course and cargo."

"No, you're talking differently than you did a couple of years ago. You're much more conversant with both sides of the political argument."

"The hell I am!"

"Then, you thought men who championed states' rights were fools. A while ago, you said the federal government shouldn't tamper with those rights. Maybe you've taken sides yourself. Unconsciously-"

That fueled his wrath all over again. "Never. Never!"

"You are a southerner-"

"I'm a seaman-period. The only territory with a claim on me is the deck of a clipper!"

He stepped away from her, unwilling to discuss the subject further. She'd pointed out something of which he was totally unaware, and it had shaken him profoundly. He practically barked the next sentence.

"It's time we went back." Then-with a faint undertone of threat: "I've got a business offer to think over."

"An offer? You didn't say anything about-"

"No point in mentioning it earlier. I thought I'd be berthing out here from now on. Since I won't be, this other proposition has a lot to recommend it. Gentleman approached me just before I weighed anchor this trip. The manager of the New York office of the Royal Sceptre Line."

"Sounds like a British firm."

"It is. Headquarters in London. Most of their trade's with Africa and India. Guess I've built a pretty fair reputation with Ball Brothers-Royal Sceptre offered me a mighty handsome command on a brand-new clipper, the Prince Consort. Might be just what I need to get me away from the mess in this country. 'Specially since there are no personal reasons for staying-"

"Would you be based in London?"

"Yes."

Unhappy, she fell in step beside him, letting him speak again when he was finally moved to it. "Concerning your own trip, Amanda-I trust you don't have any thought of traveling on Manifest Destiny-"

"Why, yes, I do."

"You know there isn't passenger space."

"What about your cabin? You've offered it before."

"Not this time. It-it wouldn't be good for either of us. You find passage on another ship."

A silence, interrupted only by the crunch of their steps on the path.

"Will I see you in the east, Bart?"

"Can't say for sure."

"Does that mean you're going to England?"

He didn't answer.

Negotiating a steep place, she hung onto his arm for support. He almost pushed her hand away.

He smelled the night breeze. It was cold, and carried a salt tang. Already most of the lamps of the town were haloed by fog. But the hateful noise-the music, the braying laughter-grew steadily louder as they descended.

"Bart-"

"What?"

"Will you at least stay with me while you're in San Francisco?"

"Maybe it would be better if I didn't-"

"I want you to stay. I want us to have that much."

"We could have a lot more."

"I know. I'd say yes in a minute if it weren't for-"

"The family," he finished. "I guess I'll never appreciate what that family means to you. But I'll say this and be done. A family feeling as strong as yours is a curse, not a blessing."

"You're wrong," she said. "It's both."

ii

Amanda, Louis and Israel saw him off four days later.

The visit had been strained and anticlimactic, because the parting had really taken place on the semaphore hill. Their two subsequent attempts at lovemaking had been perfunctory. One hadn't even come to completion because something not merely physical shrank his flesh before they were half done.