Read Online Hurricane by L. Ron Hubbard - Free Book Online

torches that danced like fireflies over the island.
    “What happened?” said Peg.
    “I killed my guard and they found the body before I could rescue you.”
    “You killed a man?”
    “You don’t call these beasts men, do you? Wait a bit. Maybe we can get out.” And then it was Spar’s turn to wince. Propped against the wall, tied with a sling and belt, Peg Mannering’s guard was certain to be discovered before the night was out. That would direct them straight to her door. Nothing would stop them. In their haste they had overlooked him once. They wouldn’t make the same mistake on closer inspection.
    “We’ve got to get to the Venture, ” said Spar. “They’ll know I’m here.”
    “But can’t we take the others with us?”
    “The others? I’m not interested in the others. I’ll send the navy back for them.” Spar looked at her with a frankness born of danger.
    She backed away from him. “But you must!”
    “You and I have a chance to get out. We can’t get out with Felice Bereau and that drunkard to give us away. They aren’t worth it.”
    With a certain hauteur, she said, “You forget that I am engaged to marry Tom.”
    “You had almost forgotten it. Forget it again. I’ve known from the moment I set eyes on you that someday I would tell you that I love you. I’m telling you now. I can get the two of us out, but not four. You are the one I take. Let Tom Perry rot.”
    Stiffly, she replied, “I have given my word that I would marry him. I do not go back on my word. Do you take me for some street gamine?”
    “I take you for a woman who will not listen to her own heart. You pretend that you are afraid of me, that you think me beneath you. Perhaps I am. But don’t forget that the Saint is watching you. Don’t forget that you are not choosing between Tom Perry and Captain Spar. You are choosing between Captain Spar and the Saint.”
    “Count Folston . . . the Saint?”
    “Yes, the Saint. You’ve heard of him, I see. If your choice is not correct, you’ll hear more of him, much more.”
    “You take a great deal for granted, Captain Spar,” she replied. “Such vanity should be rewarded. And are you implying that you are so lacking in gallantry that you require me to buy my freedom with my hand?”
    Spar looked at her uncertainly for a moment and then abruptly laughed. “We are both being very noble. You are taking the side of a worthless, drunken wretch and I am taking the part of a half-mad convict. Perhaps it would be better if we were to consider the best for everyone concerned. I can get out of here with you only. Four cannot move as quickly or as silently as two. We must do something. And the best we can do is to get aboard the Venture and sail for Martinique, to bring the French authorities here.”
    “But wouldn’t they . . . ?”
    “Yes, they’d send me back. But you are thinking of your promise, and, strangely, so am I. I can do nothing. I might as well do the only decent thing. I killed those two men in Martinique, not Tom.”
    “You?”
    “Yes, Folston pinned it on Tom to get him here. It was all planned. I was to be the corpse, but I let two killers substitute for me. I’ll see to it that everything goes off like clockwork. All shipshape. Come on, we haven’t much time.”
    He started to the door, but she snatched at his arm and held him back. “No, no. That is not a good plan. Can’t we hide on the island for a time, let Folston do what he wants, and get away by stealing some small boat? You can’t give yourself up!”
    Spar faced her, looked into her eyes and saw there the expression ladies reserve for the man they love. Suddenly he swept her into his arms and kissed her. She offered no resistance for a moment, and then she pushed him away.
    “No,” she said, “I’m the one who is half-mad. We must get Tom out of here, no matter what it costs. I have given my promise.”
    Spar unbarred the door. The stairway was empty and so, apparently, was the great hall