Free The Saintly Buccaneer by Gilbert Morris

she’d noted when he’d looked at the troops during the Christmas service. The room was silent save for the small whistle of a teakettle on the small hearth. Finally he spoke. “I am become a beggar, Miss Alden.”
    “A beggar, Your Excellency?”
    “Yes, a beggar.” A bitterness ran along the edge of the general’s thin lips, and he added curtly, “I must go with my hat in my hand to our Congress for the bare necessities of life for my poor men—”
    “And often as not, they keep you waiting like some peasant!” Greene exploded. “It’s an outrage, sir, an outrage!”
    “I am the servant of the Congress, General Greene,” Washington rebuked the older man gently, then fixed his eyes on Charity. “A ship is on its way from France with a hold full of supplies—cannon, powder, muskets, food—everything an army needs!”
    “That’s Franklin’s work, I’d warrant!” Daniel exclaimed.
    “Yes. He worked like a slave to get these supplies—and now it may all be wasted.” He stopped and looked straight intoCharity’s eyes, adding slowly, “Unless we can find a Patriot who will help us. A Patriot with a fast ship.”
    It was all clear to Charity then, for she knew that the British fleet had sewn a tight web around the coast of America with the intent of strangling the flickering revolution by a blockade. It had been, she knew as well, a successful move, for the British Navy was paramount among the navies of the world. There had been no losses on the British side in single ship actions, so it was taken for granted that England’s fleet was invincible.
    There was only one thing the general could mean, and Charity voiced it. “You want me to bring the supplies to our shores at Boston?”
    “Yes. The French ship cannot be caught even close to our shores,” Washington nodded, pleased with her alertness. “The best we could do is arrange to send a ship to Port-au-Prince and transfer the supplies.”
    “Why, we make that run several times a year, Your Excellency,” Charity replied, quickly analyzing the best routes and anticipating the dangers. “It would be no trick at all for The Gallant Lady. ”
    “If the British stop you,” Washington insisted with a warning shake of his heavy head, “your ship will be seized. You’ll lose her.”
    Charity laughed at the idea. “Those wallowing hulks catch my ship? Not in a million years.”
    Washington was still apprehensive. “The Army must have food, clothing, and weapons. I’ve made General Greene quartermaster. If you feel you can do this, work it out with him. We have little to offer you in the way of reward, but if the gratitude of one old soldier is of any value to you, Miss Alden, you will have my heartfelt thanks—and that of my men.”
    For some reason, the simple words brought tears to Charity’s eyes, for she knew this man would die before asking anything for himself. She blinked the tears back and stated, “Sir, if my father will agree, we will get your supplies.” Thenshe added as an afterthought, “And Father usually lets me have my own way.”
    A laugh went up and Charity blushed, but the general nodded with a soft smile, saying just as he turned to go, “I believe, Miss Alden, that most of us men would let you have your own way. God bless you.”
    Washington turned and left, followed closely by the two Greenes, and as soon as the door slammed shut, the baby set up a howl that stopped the moment Julie began to feed him. Nathan smiled at the pair. Turning to Charity, he asked, “Do you really think you might be able to get those supplies?”
    “Don’t see why not. Like I told the general, no Britisher can catch the Lady. Besides, they’ll never suspect our cargo, because they’re used to seeing us make voyages in that area.”
    Nathan grinned at her. “You sure are a better looking sailor than any I’ve ever laid eyes on, Charity.”
    ****
    For three days Charity did little but ponder Washington’s words. She helped Julie with the