Free HF - 03 - The Devil's Own by Christopher Nicole Page A

brown eyes, disarmingly mild, flickered from right to left with total certainty as he established the capabilities of the ship.
    'We took her, monsieur,' Bart said. 'Off the coast of Hispaniola. Not two days gone.'
    'Took her, by God,' Modyford said. 'With this band of butchers?'
     
    Bart grinned. 'It was butchery we needed, Your Excellency.' 'You've a cabin?' asked the big man.
     
    Bart indicated the companion-way. Modyford stepped past the waiting men, but his companion checked before Kit, frowning. 'I know your face, boy,' he said. 'Have you sailed with me before?'

 
     

     
    Kit's heart started to pound. The voice had a Welsh lilt to it.
     
    'No, sir,' he said. 'Perhaps you knew my father. My name is Christopher Hilton.' 'Tony Hilton's boy?' 'His grandson, sir.'
    'Then you're a rascal, by Christ. I've known no greater scoundrel than Tony Hilton, and I'm no stranger to villainy.'
    Kit felt his cheeks burn. But mainly with anger. His name, and Susan's memory, were his only worthwhile possessions. 'You'll acknowledge he was also a man of courage and ability, sir.'
     
    'What, Tony Hilton?'
     
    'Or must I make you,' Kit shouted, his hand dropping to his sword hilt.
     
    'Draw on your betters, would you?' Modyford cried. 'Kit, be careful,' Jean begged.
     
    But the big man laughed. 'Tony Hilton's grandson, by Christ. You've the manner more than the appearance. When first I came to these accursed islands I sailed with Tony Hilton. Aye, he had courage, and ability, and he was my friend. As will you be. Give me your hand, boy. My name is Henry Morgan.'
     
    Kit had his fingers crushed.
     
    'Christopher Hilton.' Modyford was frowning. 'You're from Tortuga?'
     
    'Some time ago, sir,' Kit said.
     
    'Aye. Your name was mentioned to me but a few months back, as I recall. Why, 'tis a small world, to be sure.' 'My name, sir?' Kit was incredulous.
    'In St John's, it was. I've estates in Barbados, you understand, and was on my way home to Jamaica from a tour of inspection, when a contrary wind blew me into Antigua. There I was the guest of the Deputy Governor, Colonel Philip Warner.'
     
    'And he asked after me, sir?'
     
    'He mentioned your name, Master Hilton, but in no very complimentary terms, I am sorry to say. I spoke of the projects planned by my friend here, Admiral Morgan, and Colonel Warner wondered that we did not recruit in Tortuga. A den of cu t throats, was his description of the place. Of whom, he said, the Hiltons are the worst. There are but two left, thank God, he said, the old whore and her pirate grandson.'
    'My grandmother is dead, sir.'
    'Then you've my sympathy.' Modyford's face relaxed into a smile; his eyes remained cold. 'But you're not without a friend in the Warner household, lad, if it's any solace to you. The Governor's daughter, young Mrs Templeton, took me aside and asked if indeed we planned to visit Tortuga. They were then unaware that it had been taken by the Dons.'
    'Mrs Templeton?' Kit's heart pounded more than when he had boarded the coaster. 'Would her name be Marguerite?'
    'Aye. The most beautiful creature I have ever seen. There's the truth. And married to a man four times her age. A sad waste.'
    Sad? And Marguerite had asked after him? Marguerite, whom he had all but forgotten? Marguerite, whom he had caused to hate him, he was sure. 'But, sir,' he cried, as Modyford would have turned away again. 'What did she say?'
    Again the frosty smile. 'Why, I forget most of it, indeed I do. Something about giving you her regards, as she had decided to forgive you. And I did not even find out what you had done to the gorgeous creature. But I formed the impression, as much from her father's dislike as from her own consideration, that you were a man of parts. The lad is your sailing master, no doubt,' he remarked to Bart.
    'Eh? Oh, yes, indeed, sir,' Bart agreed. 'He is that. And a devil when it comes to action. Why, that is what we call him, amongst ourselves. The devil's own spawn.'
    'The devil's