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

own,' Morgan said, and laughed again. 'Aye, a good name for a Hilton. A good name for you, boyo.'
    'She remembers me,' Kit said to Jean, ignoring the men. 'By God. After all these years, she remembers me.'
    'And perhaps me also,' Jean said with a smile. 'Will you not allow me to meet these gentlemen?'
    'Oh, forgive me, dear friend. I am quite overwhelmed. Quite
     
    ... allow me to present my friend, Jean DuCasse, Captain Morgan.'
     
    Morgan frowned through his smile. 'Admiral, Kit. You'll call me Admiral. The pleasure is mine, Monsieur DuCasse. You've wine on board this ship?'
    'Oh, indeed, monsieur,' Bart said, and led the way into the great cabin.
    'A Spanish merchantman.' Modyford sat at the table, still without removing his hat. 'And taken by a handful of boucaniers, by God.'
    'You came in through the stern, there.' Morgan did remove his hat, placing it carefully beside him. He had found the bullet marks on the deck-head, while the stain on the table was clearly blood.
    'Kit led the way,' Bart said. 'Why, he'd have taken her single-handed if we'd lagged behind.'
    'Tony Hilton's grandson,' Morgan said again, smiling at the boy. 'Your grandfather had a gift of command, Kit, lad. You'd do well to follow in his footsteps. He might have made a great name for himself, but his interests lay at home, with that magnificent woman of his. She's dead, you say?'
    'She was hanged by the Dons when they took Tortuga.'
    'By God,' Morgan said. 'Hanged, by God.'
    'So you've a score to settle,' Modyford said.
    Kit stared at him. The thought of Marguerite remembering him had quite driven every other concept, even his reason for being here, from his mind. But how could he remember her, without also remembering everything else. 'Aye, sir,' he said. 'I've a score.'
    'You all have, Mr Hilton,' Modyford said. 'As you were boucaniers. First thing, you'll hoist the English flag.'
    'I am a Frenchman, sir,' Bart said. 'And so are all my crew, saving only Kit.'
    'If you sail with me,' Morgan said. 'It is as Englishmen.'
    'And do we sail with you, Admiral?' Jean asked.
    'These ships are not here to rest,' Morgan said. 'I've accumulated them all the year. This ship of yours will carry a hundred men.'
    'She'll sail, and fight, better with forty,' Kit said.
    'Spoken like a seaman, Kit. But I need men. Men are even more important than ships. The ships must carry them without sinking. Nothing more.'
    'Carry them where, Admiral?' Bart asked.
    Morgan smiled at him. 'Where Henry Morgan sails is known to Henry Morgan alone,' he said. 'Saving my good friend Governor Modyford here. But I'll promise you all the riches in the world, Captain Le Grand. Ask those who were with me at Porto Bello, or Maracaibo.'
    Bart glanced at the two boys. ' 'Tis what we came for.'
    'Aye,' Kit said. 'We'll sail with you to hell itself, Admiral Morgan.'
    Still Morgan smiled. 'It may well come to that, Mr Hilton. And you will, indeed, sail with me.' He caught the expression on Kit's face. 'And your friend, Monsieur DuCasse. We'll find you another sailing master, Captain Le Grand. These two young men are my special charge. Why, the very name of Hilton will inspire the fleet.'
     
    Because it was, after all, a fleet. There were more than a score of ships, led by the two galleons, but dwindling down to little ten-man cockleshells, wallowing in the long Caribbean swell. A fleet, carrying him to fame and wealth? Morgan promised him no less. And what would he do then? How the mention of her had indeed brought memory flooding back, every gesture, every movement, every change in her tone. Married to a man four times her age. And a mother? He did not know. But thinking of an episode from her past. Suppose, then, he did reappear, famous and wealthy?
     
    Supposing it were possible. He stood on the poopdeck of the Monarch, the larger of the two galleons, and watched the rest through his glass. They had been at sea for over a week, making ever south-west across an empty ocean, and throughout that