Boris looked back at David on the floor of the hut. "He's hurt badly this time, sir. At least two of his ribs are broken."

"Have they punctured his lung?" the man in the linen suit asked with mild interest.

"I can't say."

"I'm finished with him, at least for now. If he dies feed him to the sharks. If he lives put him in the fields."

A frown wrinkled Boris's high forehead. "He might get away. I couldn't expect the workers to keep an eye on him. My own men, there are only four, have enough to do, we couldn't guard him."

A small smile appeared on the European's shaded face. "That is what I like about you, Boris. You have no imagination but you think of every possibility. I suppose he could escape from a little island like this one. Even with our friend Ivan watching over him. There are boats stopping for the canes." The man walked to the doorway of the hut and looked down on David. He was curled on his right side, moaning slightly. "From the look of him the problem will not arise but there is no reason to concern yourself. If he does survive, don't make it easy for him, feel free to shoot him. However, if he does escape I will not hold you responsible."

"Thank you, sir."

The European pulled a silver cigarette case from the breast pocket of his jacket. Thoughtfully he chose one and put it into his mouth. He leaned forward to light it from the match Boris held. "It would not matter. I know where to find him, should I want him again."

David watched the two men converse. The man called Boris had provided a certain measure of protection up to this point. Not, David thought, out of compassion. He was quite sure the Old Chiefs of the Marquesas, the cannibals made famous by R L Stevenson, had felt more compassion for the enemies destined for their stew pots. But David had seen the polite deference Boris had paid the Devil and knew he was being kept moderately well so that he would serve the Devil's purposes.

"This is good-bye, Captain. As pleasant as our acquaintance has been I have business to attend to elsewhere. Do not worry, I will not forget about the fascinating Miss Reed."

David painfully sat up and squinted at him. Never had he wished he could get his hands around a man's throat more than at that moment. "She's more than a match for the likes of you."

The man laughed deeply with genuine amusement. "I will miss these little chats of ours."

With a sense of finality David watched him walk away. He didn't know what the Devil had told Boris but he doubted that it was to treat him like an honored guest. Boris looked at him with impatience and David felt sure that his still being alive was a great inconvenience to the man.

Ivan stood by the door of the hut. His eye, thanks to a lucky punch David had landed early in their confrontation, was swelling shut. Ivan was smiling. In the end he had soundly defeated David. His victory, at least in his own eyes, was in no way diminished by the fact that David was undernourished and seriously favoring his left arm. None of the fights had been easy, but this one with Ivan had been more vicious from the outset. The others had fought him for money. Ivan had fought him out of hatred. David didn't know why Ivan would hate him unless it was that Ivan hated most people. Ivan closed the door and left David again in the odd half -light of the hut.

***

In the end even Isabelle agreed that it must have been their prayers that led their first real hope to them. A huge handsome Samoan appeared in the bar one afternoon and asked Lavinia for the sister of Mister Reed. The man spoke very little English and he had a letter for Isabelle. Lavinia sent for Isabelle immediately; she had to fight the impulse to question the man.

A few minutes later Isabelle, followed by Claire came in. Impatiently she asked Lavinia what she needed. Lavinia gave her the letter. Sitting at a table near the door, Isabelle opened it and tried to decipher her brother's cramped handwriting.


My dear,

The bearing of this letter is called Mapu. He has a strange tale to tell.

This evening Alia and I went to a festival, a feast day for a local deity. Among the festivities were tests of strength. Mapu is a great champion among his people. Alia heard him tell what happened to him just over two months ago. A white man, a European offered to pay him to fight. Mapu was taken to an island some distance south of here. The man he fought was a prisoner on that island. He was white.



Isabelle took a sharp breath and looked up at the massive man quietly drinking beer at the bar.

"Isabelle, are you alright? What is it?" asked Claire reaching across the table to touch her friend's hand.

"Go to the dock. Get Mauriri. Hurry!"

Claire knocked over the chair in her haste. She picked up her skirts and ran from the tavern.

"It is about David," said Lavinia coming to stand behind Isabelle.

Isabelle swallowed hard. "I'm not finished yet. I'll give it to you when I'm done. Don't let him leave. Feed him or something, but don't let him leave."

I do not mean to raise your hopes falsely, my dear one. Mapu could tell us little about the man he fought. I hope that Mauriri or Lavinia might question him more effectively so I have arraigned to send him to you as quickly as possible. Even without some definitive proof that the man could be David Grief I thought you would want to pursue this line of inquiry.

We are well. Your nephew is a handsome little chap. Come to us soon. You are always in our prayers.

       Your Brother


Leaving the letter on the table Isabelle rose and walked towards the Samoan. Watching her with a perplexed frown Lavinia picked up the letter.

"Where?" demanded Isabelle in a voice that trembled with violent emotion. "Where is that island?"

The man, Mapu, looked down on her with a puzzled frown. He shook his head to show he did not understand her but Isabelle continued to demand that he answer her.

At that moment, closely followed by Claire and Colin, Mauriri strode into the tavern. Lavinia pushed the letter into his hand and then crossed the room to the bar.

"Isabelle, leave him be. He will tell Mauriri his story," said Lavinia as she pulled Isabelle away. Mauriri invited the man to sit down while read the letter. With careful courtesy he asked Mapu to tell them the story he had told Mister Reed. As he spoke, Mapu continued to cast bewildered, worried glances in Isabelle's direction.

"I am a famous fighter on Samoa. I am a good and fair fighter. Weeks ago a man watched me fight and he said he had a good fight for me. He took me on a yacht to an island where Chinese laborers work the cane fields. There was a white man there and I was to fight him."

"What is he saying? Mauriri, tell me!" demanded Isabelle pushing herself between the big man and Mauriri.

"I can't understand him if you're talking. Be quiet," snapped Mauriri. What was wrong with her all of the sudden, he thought. He turned to Claire and said sternly, "Take her out of here."

Claire paled slightly. With great trepidation she took Isabelle by the arm.

"What are you doing?"

"I think Mauriri's right," said Claire carefully. "We should go out and get a breath of air."

"No, I need to hear this," said Isabelle twisting out of Claire's grip.

"But you can't understand him. You're making it harder. When we come back in we'll hear the whole thing in English. Please." She pulled firmly on her friend's arm. Isabelle, frustrated, shook Claire off and walked out on to the porch. Claire followed her at a discreet distance.

Curious, Claire thought, that Isabelle could maintain her calm when they had nothing but hope to fuel their belief that they would find David alive. However the moment a solid lead appeared her emotions threaten to boil over.

On the porch Isabelle stood looking out at the turquoise sea. Her long, wavy sun streaked brown hair blew wildly around her head. Her hands gripped the railing.

In the taproom behind her, the big man looked at Mauriri with what appeared to be shame in his eyes. "I didn't like doing it. He was brave fellow and he fought well. But he kept getting up and that white man said I didn't get paid if I didn't make him stay down."

"Did you make him stay down?" asked Lavinia with a quiver in her voice.

"I hit him hard. He stayed down. Then I was paid and the other white man took me home on his yacht."

"The man you fought, what did he look like?" asked Mauriri. He was trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. There had been so many false leads they had followed on the islands that it hardly seemed possible the answer to the riddle of David's disappearance would simply walk into the bar.

Mapu shrugged, "He was a white man. Not so big as you but as tall. Hair with the light of the sun it in. A white man."

"What about his eyes?" asked Mauriri.

Mapu frowned, "Not so light as his," he said pointing at Colin.

"Was there anything you remember about him?" asked Mauriri trying to keep his frustration out of his voice. David would be the only sailor in the South Seas who didn't have a tattoo.

Mapu knew that they were searching for someone important to them. Mister Reed was not a rich man. He would not have sent him all this way if it weren't very important. He wanted to be helpful. He searched his memory and said, "There was a scar here." His fingers touch a spot high on his left shoulder.

"David, it has to be David," said Lavinia quietly to Colin in English. She was unaware that she was gripping his hand tightly with both of hers. "That's were he was shot last year.

"Tell me about the island," said Mauriri as calmly as he could.

"No English there. Just Chinese and three maybe four white men speaking something else, not French." He shrugged his huge shoulders. "What's to tell. They kept him in a hut. He was a prisoner. He talked English. The man who took me there said he was a bad man but he was a good fighter."

After finding out where the island was, Mauriri repeated the story for Isabelle, Claire and Colin. Isabelle sat very still though she continued to glare at the Samoan. She said nothing as Mauriri spoke.

"Those islands are under German control. Perhaps the language Mapu didn't recognized was German," said Colin thoughtfully. He turned to Mapu and said several lines in German. The man nodded his head in recognition."

A few minutes later Mauriri and Isabelle were in Lt. Morlias's office. The Frenchman listened carefully to their story. His face was very grave. "It does sound possible that that island is where Grief is being held. Or at least that he was being held there then."

"It's more than possible. We have to do something," demanded Isabelle, her light eyes blazed with an almost metallic glow.

"Miss Reed, I want to be helpful," said Morlias in his dignified way. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, he tented his fingers. He regarded her thoughtfully, noting that she was thin with dark circles under her eyes. "If this island where anywhere in French Polynesia I would already be calling for my boat to be made ready. But I can't sail into waters claimed by Germany. This will have to go through official channels. I'm sure that the governor will want to be personally involved. It will have to be handled very carefully so as not to appear as an accusation against the German government of some wrongdoing. You don't think they are involved do you?"

"I don't think even David could be such a problem for the Kaiser way out here," said Mauriri sensibly. He hadn't really expected the French officials to be of any immediate help. He did want Morlais, who he didn't consider a friend exactly but certainly an ally, to know what they had learned.

"I thought not. It must be a private individual who has some access to that island. There are any number of private individuals who have a grievance against Grief."

"But if you do something official who ever has David could be alerted. He could be moved or, or killed," said Isabelle quickly. Her stomach churned uneasily. "We don't know that they aren't connected to the government."

"That is a risk," said the Lt. with a sharp nod of his head. He looked directly into Muariri's dark eyes. "Of course this may all be premature. Perhaps I should wait until you have more information before I do anything official."

"Yes, that might be best," said Mauriri thoughtfully. Truthfully it was what he wanted. Finding David, bringing him home was his responsibility. But if something went wrong at least now Morlais was in possession of the facts.

"What!" squawked Isabelle. She knew there was something irrational about her reaction. What she wanted was a war ship under her command. She wanted Morlais to hand one over to her.

"Come on, Isabelle." Mauriri pulled her out of the office. On the steps of the courthouse she shook him off.

"I'm getting tired of being pushed and pulled. Horrible little man. He never did like David."

"He's helping us. You need to take a breath and think about what he said. He can't do anything quickly and he is giving us time to do something. Don't you see that?" asked Mauriri staring down at her. Her reaction to this first ray of hope was confusing to him. She'd been so steady and businesslike while they had no clues and now that there was the prospect of finding David she seemed anxious and almost frightened.

"Yeah," she admitted grudgingly. Isabelle walked hurriedly away from him. Her hands clenched at her side. "But what can we do on our own? It's not like the Rattler has a cannon on board."

"We will work something out. All we need is a plan that gets us on that island." Mauriri caught her by the arm and made her stand still. He cupped her chin with his large hand and tilted her face up to look at him. "We've found David."

Her huge gray-green eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "We know where he was weeks ago. He could have been moved a dozen times since then."

"Oh, come on," said Mauriri as he searched the beautiful face for some clue to this strange behavior. He realized then how haggard she was; still beautiful but strained. There was a fragility about her face he had never noticed before. "You have more faith than that. It's paid off, all the dead ends are worth it, if he is alive and on that island. You can believe in that, can't you?"

Isabelle took a deep breath and composed herself. She saw hope in Mauriri's dark eyes. She also saw the concern he felt for her. No, she told herself sternly, he mustn't be wasting any concern on me. "Let's go bring David home."

"That's David's girl," he said with more sincerity than he intended.

***

It was hard to breathe lying flat so David struggled to sit up. He felt his ribs move. Maybe they're just cracked he thought. It's not like there is anything to do for it but stay still. If the Devil really was finished with him then it was possible he would just be left to starve. He had lost count of how long it had been since he'd been taken off the Rattler. But he knew it was a long time. His faith that the Rattler had been found and returned to Tahiti was no longer strong. It seemed far more likely that the sea had swallowed her.

Slipping his hand beneath the tattered cloth of his shirt he rubbed his left shoulder. His fingers traced the puckered scar. It had been a year since he was shot but it was still the first place to hurt during every fight. "Bloody thing, never healed right," David said aloud. "You make a lousy surgeon, Isabelle, but a very fine blanket. Ah, I wish you were here now. No, I don't. I don't want you anywhere near him. Please God let his wretched business take him away from Tahiti. I've called him the Devil but that doesn't mean you should let him be the snake in paradise."

David rolled his head from side to side against the rough wall of bamboo canes. He laughed bitterly, "What would you think of that, Colin? Was that a prayer? Yes, I suppose it must be. According to you, there are thousands of ways of praying."

***

"You'll be too hot in your red dress," said Claire as she led Isabelle into her room over the tavern. She went to the cloth press and pulled out a dress. "Take this one. It is very light weight."

Isabelle examined the pale yellow lawn gown. It had a loose bodice covered in tatting with a high neck and a double skirt. "It certainly looks like what a missionary's sister would wear. But you know I can't guarantee you would get it back."

"I never wear it, it is no longer my style," said Claire with a smile. She glanced down at the poplin skirt, hemmed at her ankle, and plain shawl collared blouse she wore. "Here, this hat has a scarf with it. If you see someone who might recognize you, you can cover your face."

Isabelle took the hat from her and said, "You've certainly thought of everything."

"Oh, that's not the best part," said Claire with a slight smile. She wanted to give Isabelle all the help she could. She also wanted Isabelle to be impressed with how she was thinking. "Look here, there is a pocket large enough for one of those little guns you have. I'm sure you don't want to go on that island unarmed and you know Colin will not carry a weapon."

For a brief moment Isabelle looked startled then she laughed aloud. "I think you may be spending too much time with me."

"The first rule of good reporting is to pay attention. One never knows when valuable information will be found," said Claire lightly, but then her mood changed. She fixed her serious brown eyes on Isabelle and said, "You will be careful, won't you?"

"I'm always careful," Isabelle answered with her impish smile. The affection and concern she saw in her friend's lovely young face touched her. But Isabelle couldn't express even to Claire how afraid she was to hope.

"And you will watch out for Colin," continued Claire soberly. She had learned so much about Isabelle in the course of the search for David. She knew the teasing was a mask for her anxiety. The true measure of her emotional state had been evident by how erratic her behavior was in the tavern earlier when Mapu was telling his story. "It's a good plan, Colin certainly knows how to behave like a missionary. Surely they won't be suspicious that he would stop at the island and visit with them. It is a perfect cover for you. But you know he has no experience with this sort of thing."

"I know. That's why his sweet little sister," said Isabelle as she put on the wide straw hat and drew the scarf primly across her face, "will be there to watch his back. All we need is a good excuse to drop anchor. Mauriri will come ashore secretly, we'll find David and we'll leave. If there is a fight, Mauriri and I will watch out for Colin." She reached out and took Claire by her shoulders. "I promise you, we will all come home safe, including David."

***

"Isn't it amazing how God works," said Colin as he reached deep into a steamer trunk for a pair of rubber soled shoes. He slipped them on his bare feet.

"Amazing but slow. Why couldn't William have heard Mapu's story weeks ago. Horrible things may have happened to David since that fight." Lavinia stood in the doorway to Colin's bedroom. Her arms were folded across her chest. "Are you sure you want to do this? You know that Mauriri won't make you go."

"I want to go, Lavinia," said Colin patiently. He crossed the room to his shaving stand and carefully packed his gear into a small leather bag. "I want to do something to bring David home."

"I know that. I want to do that too but you don't know what you'll find. We don't know who this white man that has David is. We don't know why he took him or how desperately he will try to keep him. Do you really think it could be simply a sugar cane plantation? There must be guards, there could be a horrible fight."

Colin paused. He glanced up at the mirror. It reflected his very ordinary English face. Not a sight to intimidate anyone. Certainly not men confidant enough to hold David Grief against his will. A slight smile twisted his generous mouth. "And I'm no good in a fight."

"Colin--" Lavinia took hold of his arm. She had insulted him and she was sorry.

"No, you're right, I'm no good in a fight. But I speak fluent German and so I might be able to help them avoid a fight. At the very least I should be able to buy Isabelle enough time to discover where David is being held. You know it is the safest plan we came up with. Isabelle will be with me. Mauriri will come ashore after us and find David. Then we will leave. They need someone to speak German and am I the only one available." He spoke very calmly, repeating the plan as they had devised it. He did not look up at her. He couldn't yield to the fear he heard in her voice.

"If everything goes according to plan. If no one recognizes the Rattler."

"There are hundreds of schooners just like the Rattler in the South Seas. Tah-Mey is painting the name Good Hope on her as we speak. It's a simple plan. Those are always the best. David came looking for me when I was nearly dead in that long boat. I have to do what I can for him. Don't you understand that?"

"I do. I want David to come home, you know that." Lavinia felt anguish wash over her. She understood what he was saying. She wanted to go herself, but they didn't need her for this plan of theirs. Sitting at home and waiting, it was going to be horrible. Perhaps even more horrible than these past weeks had been. She was used to being left behind when David and Mauriri had gone off on some dangerous exploit. She was use to Colin being with her at those times.

For years now it had been Colin who walked with her along the beach and listened as she talked out her worries. In recent months he had gotten in the habit of stopping by just before she closed the bar. They would speak for a few minutes and he would wish her a restful night. There wouldn't be any restful nights until the Rattler returned from this venture.

He had finished his packing. He turned to her saying, "I should be off. Will you come to the boat?"

"Yes, of course." She picked up a small packing crate of foodstuff she had put together for them to take on the ship. "Colin?"

He paused on the step from the porch to the ground and looked back at her. Her great dark eyes were shiny with tears. "Yes, Lavinia?"

"You've never broken a promise to me."

His blue eyes grew puzzled. "No. I hope never to break a promise to you."

She took a deep breath. "Then promise me that you will come back, alive and well."

"With God's help," he said solemnly.

***

"Mama, will Papa bring Uncle David home this time?" asked Tahnee as she waved good bye to her father.

"I hope so," answered her mother. She watched as they hoisted the Rattler's main sail. There was no reason to keep standing on the beach and yet Lianni was reluctant to walk away from Lavinia. She exchanged a glance with Claire who stood on the other side of her old friend. She saw same mixture of hope, apprehension and excitement in Claire's face she was experiencing.

"Colin hasn't been to sea since the Windjammer," said Lavinia softly. She was still watching the ship. The sails had caught the wind and it was moving into open water.

"Oh, my Lord, that's right," said Claire as her hand covered her mouth. "I hadn't thought of that. Did he say anything?"

"Not a word," answered Lavinia in a whisper.

"It is very brave of him to go," said Lianni, leaning down to pick her four-year-old son up. "It isn't like he is a sailor. Colin has never cared for the sea."

"And yet this was his plan," said Claire thoughtfully.

"Because," said Lavinia as she wrapped her arms around herself. "He speaks German and he wants to help David."

***

"Davy! Davy!"

He ignored the voice and concentrated on his fleet of boats. He'd made them from bits of wood and added paper sails. They floated on the tidal pool.

"Davy!" It was a woman's voice, carried on the sea breeze. A gentle voice with no hint of impatience. He turned to see her standing on the rise of the dune. Her hand was shading her eyes. Long auburn hair was lifted from her narrow shoulders by the wind. Her muslin skirts were tangled about her legs.

He stood, his boats forgotten. He started to run to her. He was hungry, she would feed him. Then she would bath him and tuck him into his bed and tell him a story of cold misty mountains far, far away. But he could not make it up the steep slope of the dune and the vision faded.

"You always kept her waiting. Never a word would she hear against you. Her little man, perfect you were. You would give her a smile or bring her a clutch of flowers from her own garden and she'd give you her heart all over again. Still that way about women, aren't you, David? The hero one day, the cad the next. Careless of you, boy. But you all ways were careless and selfish. Careless and selfish.

David woke in a cold sweat, his father's brogue banging like a drum in his mind. Then it was Mauriri's voice he heard. "You're selfish, you never think of anyone but yourself!"

"You and my father, Mo, the last two people in the world I'd expected to share the same opinion of me. I was so sure my past was none of your business. If I had told you, would you have understood or would you have agreed with my father about that too? Oh, yes, Father, careless and selfish, I never changed. You'd like Mauriri he's responsible. He'd never run away.

David tried to stand but the ache in his side stopped him. He slid roughly down the wall and landed with a thump that jarred his ribs. He was shivering again. "I hate regrets. I should have told you everything, I should made you listen. Don't blame yourself for this, Mo, don't blame yourself." He let his head fall forward. The best he could hope for was to find his way back into the dream to make it up the dune to the warmth and safety of her arms.

***

Mauriri dropped anchor at the edge of the cove. He was uncertain of the bottom and wanted to take no chance of stranding the ship in the cove when the tide went out. Isabelle stood beside him on the deck. She was dressed in Claire's demure yellow outfit; the wide straw hat hid her thick hair. Colin, his clerical collar in place, bowed his head one more time and asked for God's blessing on their venture.

"It's like they're waiting for us," said Isabelle suddenly as she spied a large rowboat set off from the makeshift pier.

"Let's take it as a good omen," said Colin replacing his straw hat.

Uncertain who they were dealing with Mauriri and the crew planned to stay out of the sight of those from the island. So with a word of good luck to Isabelle and Colin he went below.

With false shyness Isabelle hung back when the rowboat came along side. Colin carried on a pleasant conversation in German with a tall fair man who wore spectacles with lens even thicker than his own. The man introduced himself as Boris; his sir name was long and too hard to pronounce he claimed. He invited them to come on to the island and see their plantation of sugar cane and to honor him and his countrymen with their presence for dinner.

Her hand touching the reassuring shape of the small gun hidden in the pocket of the dress, Isabelle sat straight and still on the seat of the rowboat. Her eyes searched the narrow sandy beach and the neat rows of huts for any sign of a prisoner. Her stomach churned and her throat was dry. She was glad she had to concentrate on her performance as a proper English miss. Otherwise she would already have the gun at this tall awkward man's head, demanding that he produce David.

Through out the course of the afternoon Isabelle was amazed that Colin seemed so relaxed talking to their host. Occasionally they would laugh together and Colin would turn to her and quickly explain what had been said. Boris showed them the cane fields where the nearly naked Chinese contract laborers worked like a colony of ants cutting the crop. Isabelle strained her eyes looking a taller figure, a broader back among the laborers but he wasn't there.

With a grave old fashion courtesy Boris introduced his countrymen. Three of them were young, with bleached out pale hair and shy, curious eyes that met hers and slid away. The fourth was older, dark with a heavy moustache and eyes that met hers boldly. Isabelle recognized an air of violence about the man called Ivan. She noticed the faint yellow and purple of an old bruise around his eye. Was it possible that David had given him that? She hoped so. With an effort she lowered her eyes as if his boldness had disturbed her.

***

After the dinner, the youngest of five men brought out an accordion and played for them. She sat as demurely as she could next to Colin in a fanned backed rattan chair.

"Boris has asked if you will sing for them. He says he is sure you have a voice as lovely as your eyes and he would be grateful if you sang for them," translated Colin for the tall pale man with the weak eyes.

"Well, alright, then we might get to the ship." She nodded graciously at the men and stood up to sing.

Her eyes they shone like the diamonds,
You'd think she was queen of the land,
And her hair hung over her shoulders,
Tied up with a black velvet band.

David held Isabelle in his arms. They were waltzing. He could feel the silk of her gown smooth beneath his hand and smell the faint scent of coconut oil in her hair. Her eyes, Isabelle's eyes, the soft silver green of the tropical sea, were gazing in to his. He was happy, his friends were all there.

David woke with a start. He knew he couldn't be truly cold, it had to be that the fever had gotten higher. Cautiously he drew up his knees and leaned his forehead against them. The ribs were better, not healed but not moving as if they would fall apart at any movement. The dream had been a memory, a good memory. He closed his eyes and tried to recapture the feeling of comfort and well being. Colin had fixed them a grand meal and Claire had baked a cake. David smiled as he remembered the taste of melted chocolate and the slight of Claire covered in flour.

He'd had a good life with good friends, better than he deserved. That night even Mauriri had been willing to share his family with him in small ways. They would have worked it out, he and Mauriri, all they had needed was time.

David realized then that he was singing the ballad. But he wasn't singing it alone.

As first the sound made no sense to him. It had been so long since he had heard a woman's voice.

"Isabelle?" he whispered. A short mirthless laugh escaped his lips. "I told you, Isabelle, it was a song written for you. Eyes that shone like diamonds, beautiful Isabelle, clever Isabelle, too smart for the Devil. Not here, not in hell, not meant for the Devil." David's rambling tampered off and he fell again in to restless sleep.

***

"I think we have a problem," said Colin so softly that Isabelle had to incline her head towards him to hear him. They were standing close together on the porch of the overseer's house. Boris and Ivan were only a little ways off. Colin had been saying their good-byes.

"Why?" she asked still smiling sweetly at their host.

"They are insisting that we stay on shore tonight. They say they already have rooms made up for us."

"Are they suspicious? They don't seem threatening, well, maybe the short one does." She kept her tone light and her voice very low.

"I think the fellow just means to be hospitable. Boris appears to be the only one with any education and he is suffering for conversation. The others, I believe, simply want the pleasure of looking at you."

In spite of herself Isabelle smiled. One could always depend on men to be men, she thought. "As long as they only look. Accept."

"But--"

Isabelle tightened her grip on his arm. "There is no good reason not to stay. We don't want to make them suspicious. We can't risk any trouble until we are sure we've found David."

The plan was that Colin and Isabelle would visit with the overseer and his men so that there would be a reason for the Rattler to be anchor just off shore. Mauriri wanted them both back on the ship as quickly as possible. Isabelle was glad to have a reason to change the plan. Even though the only gun she'd seen was a shotgun that hung on a rack by the door all of the men had cane knives. Mauriri might run into trouble. She wanted to be on the island so that she could watch his back. She was mindful of her responsibility for Colin. She fervently hoped he had conquered his fear of what swam in the sea because there was a good chance they would have to swim back to the boat.

Colin turned back to Boris and accepted the offer of beds for the night. Boris asked if Colin played chess. When Colin said yes a board was brought out. The man, Ivan, and one of the younger ones got up and left for a short time. Isabelle watched them walk through the compound. The long huts the workers slept in had long been quiet. She saw him go past them and stop at a small hut in the direction of the sea.

Isabelle ached to jump up and run to the hut. She'd been watching it from the moment she had noticed it sitting some distance from the other buildings. It had to be the structure that Mapu had described. There had been no activity around it, nor any sound coming from it that she could hear. She was sure that was where David was being kept. All she could do was pray that Mauriri was in the shadows watching.

***

Mauriri slipped through the shadows. The long huts were quiet. He'd seen two of the white men walk through the compound as if they were on nightly rounds but they were casual and careless. They had nothing to fear on their island; they were only going through the motions of security. Mauriri had watched them stop by the little hut. One of them had carried a bucket into the hut and brought another one out. The action had only taken a moment. Mauriri had listened carefully but he heard no conversation from within the structure.

He had expected to see Colin and Isabelle leave the house and be rowed back out to the ship. It was now well after midnight and the lights had gone out in the house. But Mauriri had not seen them come out. He couldn't worry about them; he had to stick to his part in the plan. He had to trust Isabelle to get Colin back to the boat before dawn.

Now was the time to discover whether they had finally found David or just another dead end. Mauriri took a last look around and ran to the hut, his rubber soled shoes silent on the dusty ground. To his surprise the door was not secured, it opened at his touch. A wave of hot, humid air, sour and fetid, hit him in the face as he pushed the door inward.

A nearly full moon lighted night outside, inside the hut it was black as pitch. Mauriri blinked. He heard a quick movement and the scrape of metal on metal.

"Come back for more, you bastard?" croaked a weak voice. "I'll give you more."

Mauriri still half blind with lack of light felt more than saw the fist coming at him. He raised his arm to block the blow. He felt a weight fall against him.

"David?" he whispered urgently.

Awkwardly the figure scrambled away from him. "No, no, you can't make friends now. I won't let you."

His eyes adjusting, Mauriri made out the thin shape of a man huddled defensively against the wall of the hut. Long hair and a heavy beard obscured his face except for his feverish eyes.

"My God," whispered Mauriri. He saw no light of recognition in David's eyes, only fear and hatred. The joy he felt at finally finding his friend was immediately tempered by seeing his decrepit condition.

"What are you waiting for?" asked David hoarsely, struggling to his feet.

"David, its Mo. Don't you know me?"

David shook his head. "Mo couldn't find me, the Devil is too smart. No one could find me. I'm the Devil's plaything. But he'll never catch them. Mo's too wise. He'll take care of them. The Devil will never have Lavinia or Isabelle, never, do you hear me." His voice had the singsong quality of a raving drunk.

Mauriri felt a chill run down his spine. He had to reach him. David had to come with him willingly or they would be discovered. He took a tentative step forward.

David pressed his back to the rough wall. His dreams were so vivid sometimes he had trouble recognizing that he was asleep. His dreams, even the bad ones always took him out of hut. Thus far he had not seen things or people that could not be there when he was awake. He knew his fever was high and that horrible sense of despair was about to engulf him. But he had to fight. He would not give the Devil his mind.

The figure moved closer to him in the darkness. Who was it? No one among his captors was so large. Was it some new tormentor? Or was it only the creation of his mind that needed so much to believe Mauriri would come, it had conjured him up from thin air?

"David."

David breathed raggedly. "You aren't real. What happens to a boat without a crew? She sinks in the Devil's storms. My Rattler, gone. Mauriri's left with his mystery. For him I'm drowned. He'd never know even to look for me."

"No, the Rattler is off shore. We found her right away. We've been looking all the while," said Mauriri as he cautiously moved towards David.

"No," he shook his head violently. "Too good to be true. I've made it all up, it's all a bloody dream."

"Come with me." Mauriri put his hand out slowly. "You can see the Rattler from the bluff."

David laughed hysterically. "You, you are a persistent phantom, Mo. Sure, let's go to the bluff. Just like I stand at the helm or sit at my dead mother's table or drink good scotch at Lavinia's or dance with Isabelle. You can go anywhere in a mad man's mind. Anywhere at all, even home."

He took several steps forward. The leg iron tripped him. Mauriri caught him. He saw the expression in David's eyes change. It was familiar, the look he always got when he was puzzling something out.

"David?"

"The chain is real. I can't go any further. You," he turned his head to stare at Mauriri is the darkness. He put his hand on Mauriri's arm and squeezed it. "Mo?" "Yes. You're awake and I'm here to take you home. The Rattler is off shore, we'll be on her in a few minutes. Now let me get a look at this chain." Mauriri helped David to sit down. He ran his fingers along the links of the chain. He pushed the heavy blade of his knife through a link into the ground. He twisted it with all of his strength.

"How? How could you be here?"

"It's a long story," Mauriri grunted with frustration. The link would not break. "Damn."

"What?"

"It's too thick. I should have brought something with me," whispered Mauriri urgently.

David chuckled shakily, "How was you to know I'd gotten myself chained up like a mad dog?"

Mauriri knelt on the ground in front of David. Their knees touched and Mauriri reached out to touch David's shoulder so that he looked at him. "I have to get something to break the link. David, do you hear me?"

"Sure. You," he took a breath and tried to steady his voice. "You want me to sit tight till you come back."

"I'll be right back. I saw a tool shed. There will be something I can use in it. Here, take my knife. Hold on to it," said Mauriri pressing the hilt of his sailor's knife into David's hand."

"Mo?" David reached out to touch Mauriri's arm as he started to move away.

"I'm not a dream, David, you'd come up with a prettier dream than me." Mauriri felt David's hand tighten on his arm. He couldn't blame him. What would it feel like to think you'd been found and then have your rescuer walk away? He needed something to distract David, something for him to think of about for a few minutes. He thought suddenly of the Bible verses his daughter said when she was having trouble sleeping. "Remember that psalm Colin's always saying, the 23rd? I'll wager you can't remember all of it. I'll wager you a bottle of Lavinia's best."

"You'll lose," hissed David, the hysterical laugh again escaping his lips. "That's the only bit of scripture my mother taught me that I do remember.

"Lavinia's best in on the line. I'll be back before you're done. Hold on to the knife." With that he rushed out of the hut towards the open sided shed in which he had noticed tools earlier.

David pressed his back against the wall and wrapped both hands around the hilt of the knife. He closed his eyes, fighting fear and relief; he let the ancient words of comfort filter into his mind,

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

David tightened his grip on the handle of the knife. He took a few deep breaths that pained his ribs. He never took his eyes off the doorway. He kept reciting the psalm in a thready voice.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of
mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the
days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

"You lose, Mo," David grunted as the door opened.

"That's one debt, I'll be happy to pay off," said Mauriri softly as he reentered the hut carrying a thick crowbar. He made quick work of the chain, breaking it close to the iron ring the encircled David's ankle. Carefully he pulled David to his feet and they made their way awkwardly out of the hut.

Glancing towards the main house Mauriri thought he saw a pale figure moving in the moonlight. He didn't stop to look more closely. All he wanted was to get David down to the beach and into the water. Once they were in the water, then he could relax. He was a strong swimmer; pulling David would present little problem. They'd be on the boat in a few minutes. They just had to get to the beach, he was sure he had seen a figure moving towards the hut.

David stumbled to the ground; his breath coming in short gasps. Mauriri grabbed him by the shoulder and he moaned in agony. The moonlight threw David's thin, bearded face into relief. His eyes were closed and he was shivering.

"It's not much further, David," said Mauriri softly, he slid his hands under David's arms and lifted him. He felt David flinch.

"I'm alright," said David but it was groan. He couldn't catch his breath; his side felt as if he were being stabbed with a hot poker. The world was spinning; David tried to center himself on the sound of Mauriri's voice. He was still afraid this was no more than a dream that was going to turn into a nightmare

Gently, as though he was picking up one of his children, Mauriri heaved David over his shoulder. He was stunned by how little David weighed. Breathing deeply he struggled down the narrow path towards the beach. Hearing a rustling in the sea grass he drew his knife. It was the moon's reflection on the lens of his spectacles that alerted Mauriri it was Colin.

"Oh, dear Lord."

"He's really weak." Mauriri lowered David to the ground. Colin supported his head. David struggled to sit up.

"Colin?" asked David in confusion, "This is no place for you. Damn, it's the dream, it's always the bloody dream."

"No, David, it isn't a dream." said Colin gently. He could feel the hot dry heat of David's fevered skin. "Just be still for a moment and we'll get you to the boat."

"Where is Isabelle? Why aren't you already on the Rattler?" asked Mauriri urgently.

"They insisted we stay. She thought it would look suspicious if we said no. We slipped out as soon as it was quiet. Isabelle sent me ahead. She was watching to be sure that you didn't have any trouble. She ought to be right behind you."

"Damn," said Mauriri. He stood and went part way up the path. "I knew this was going too well."

"Isabelle?" asked David pushing himself to his knees.

Mauriri came back to him and carefully put his hands on his shoulders to keep him from rising. "Just rest, David, you're going to need all of your strength in a few minutes.

"She can't be here," said David pushing Mauriri's hands away. "Don't you understand, we can't let him have Isabelle. She wasn't made for him. I won't let him have her."

"It's all right, David. Nothing is going to happen to her," said Mauriri; he realized David would not sit still so he helped him to his feet. He knew David was confused and trying desperately to make sense of what was going on. "It's Isabelle. You know she can take care of herself. I'm going to get you to the boat and I'll come back for her."

"No!" David grabbed Mauriri by the arm. The action threw him off balance and he would have fallen had not Mauriri caught him. He knew he must sound even madder than he felt. He didn't know how to make Mauriri understand the danger he knew Isabelle was in. "Please, go find her, just go."

"David, I can't. I can't leave you here on the beach. There might be someone awake up there," said Mauriri in a fierce whisper. He was sure now he had seen a figure near the house. He wanted to believe it was Isabelle but his gut told him differently. If whoever it was found Colin and David on the beach they wouldn't have chance. Anyone wandering around the compound was sure to be armed, probably with a gun. "If they discover Colin and Isabelle are gone they may take a look in the hut. I have to get you to the boat, where you'll be safe."

"No," groaned David shaking his head. "There's no time. Go, please, Mo. Find her."

"I'll get David to the boat," said Colin softly with far more confidence than he felt. They were running out of time. A decision had to be made now. He knew he was offering to do something Mauriri would never ask of him.

"Colin, that not an easy swim even on your own. David will need help."

David was leaning heavily against Mauriri. Dizzy and weak he tried to follow the conversation between his friends but it was the Devil's voice he heard in his head. "Isabelle Reed was meant for me."

"Mauriri, I'd go but if it comes to a fight, I wouldn't be any help to Isabelle, you know that," said Colin candidly. "She'd be looking out for me instead of herself. I can make that swim, David taught me to swim, didn't you, David?"

"Yeah, he can do it, I taught him," said David shaking Mauriri's arm. "Please, Mauriri. Please, just bring her back to me safe."

Mauriri looked from one to the other. He was horribly torn. David was so weak. Colin couldn't possibly know what he was taking on. Even through the months of their estrangement, he had thought of David as his brother. For so long now his one objective had been to find David. It had been all their objectives but standing there in the bright light of the nearly full moon looking at Colin, Mauriri knew that he was no more willing to lose Colin than he was to lose David. One can't choose between the members of their family. But if he insisted that he take them to the boat before finding out what was keeping Isabelle he well could be abandoning her to the men whom had nearly beaten David to death. Isabelle, he realized suddenly, was also a part of that family.

"Have a little faith, Mo," said David hoarsely. His fever bright eyes bore into Mauriri's, begging him.

"Yes, Mauriri, just have faith," said Colin far more light-heartedly than he felt. "It's gotten us this far."

Faith in miracles, thought Mauriri as he clapped Colin lightly on the back. He took a deep shuddering breath and nodded at David. "All right. You see the boat; she is straight out; just keep going. The tide is going out it should help you a little."

"Go with God," said Colin with a tight smile. He carefully took his spectacles off, folded them and thrust them deep in to his pocket. He turned to David and pulled his arm over his shoulder. Mauriri watched them walk into the surf, then ran back up the bank to the enclosure.

The salt water touching the open wound on his ankle sent a spasm of agony through David. He gritted his teeth to keep from shouting. They were waist high in frothy water when Colin said, "Well, David, let's see what sort of student I was." He put his arm around David's chest and started off. David felt the water take them and put him on his back. His leg with the iron ring hung below him in the water. The rise and fall of the waves slowed their progress. He cursed himself for his weakness. This was too much to expect of Colin, he was a poor swimmer and mortally afraid of sharks. Mauriri would have had a hard time. The water broke over his head. David put all of his energy into catching his breath when he could.

"What are you saying?" he turned his head and spoke nearly in Colin's ear. The water had lower his fever some. His mind felt clearer than it had for days. He couldn't judge the passage of time. It seemed they'd been in the water long enough to reach the boat.

"A prayer."

"In Tahitian?"

"Seems appropriate," sputtered Colin, "it's to the shark god. You don't think they can really smell blood from miles away, do you?"

David tried to help but he had no strength. He wanted to tell Colin to let go. That he wasn't worth Colin's life. He knew that would insult his friend. So they would make it together or they wouldn't. Please, God, please, for Colin.

"How are we doing?"

"We're too far to the right of the ship. I'm not sure what to do."

David could hear exhaustion and fear in his friend's voice. "Rest, Colin, turn on your back and rest. Hold my hand, we'll stay together."

David turned his head to look for his boat. He could see it silhouetted against the starry sky. Close but a hard swim. The sight of his boat was so beautiful he smiled in spite of their dire predicament. He looked at Colin who bobbed beside him.

"We need to draw their attention," he said, then he shouted but the ocean swallowed the sound.

David lay back on the water. He put his fingers to his mouth and let loose a piercing whistle. The intake of breath had set his aching ribs on fire; he waited a moment then did it again. In the mean time Colin squared himself away to start swimming again.

"I think the lamp moved on the boat."

"Good," groaned David, he kicked hard, splashing as much as he could. He hoped to draw his crew's attention. The effort increased the pain in his leg, the iron ring rubbed against his skin. He could feel Colin's strength ebbing and his own consciousness fading. I'm sorry, Colin, but at least I'm in the sea.

"Here now, Reverend , old Sparrow has you. There's a good lad."

"Help David!"

"Aye, sir, there you be," Rough strong hands caught David's shirt and pulled him into the longboat. For a few minutes he sat still, trying to catch his breath on the bottom of the little craft. The old sailor pulled for the Rattler, he could barely see his captain in the light of the moon. He was so thin he looked no more than a skeleton dressed in rags.

Once along side Colin scrambled onto the deck. David using a mooring rope to keep his balance turned to the sailor. "Stay just beyond the surf and watch for them."

"Aye, sir." It hearted him to hear his captain give an order.

Tah-Mey and Colin pulled David aboard. He stood with his hands braced against the gunwale trying to steady himself. He felt his boat rocking gently on the swells and finally started to believe he wasn't dreaming. He straightened and turned to the other men. A ghost of a smile creased his mouth. "Tah-Mey. Thank God," said David, cuffing the longhaired man lightly.

"Hard to kill an island man by dumping him in the sea, Captain," said Tah-Mey putting his arm around David and helping him to lean against the cabin.

"David, you should go below, I'll get you some dry clothes."

"Not yet," answered David shaking his head. "Not until I see her. Not until they're both safe on board."

Colin fished his spectacles out of his pocket and dried them carefully. After putting them on he searched the shoreline for signs of Mauriri and Isabelle.

***

Isabelle had watched Colin go down the rough path to the rocky shoreline. Finally, she thought, a man who trusted her judgement in tricky situations. Sure that he was hidden in the shadows she made her way back to compound. The long skirt caught around her legs, slowing her progress. She stood behind the trunk of a coconut palm and looked towards the hut.

A few minutes earlier, when she and Colin were sneaking out of the house, she thought she saw movement around the hut. She couldn't be sure but she was praying that it had been Mauriri. If David was in that hut then any second now she should see them come out. She willed her heart to slow down and strained her eyes for any sign of activity.

The sound of footsteps on wood flooring came to her ears. She turned and looked towards the house. There was a man on the porch. It was Ivan. Isabelle glanced towards the hut. If Mauriri and David came out now he was sure to see them in the moonlight. Her hand sought the heavy shape of her small pistol snug in the pocket of her skirt. She'd have to be closer for a shot to be effective, she thought. Although a shot might wake the entire compound it was so quiet here.

Ivan stepped off the porch. Isabelle walked out of the protection of the tree trunk. He paused when he saw her. She continued to walk towards him, her fingers wrapped around the gun. She saw his faintly hostile expression change when he caught sight of her.

Why you arrogant bastard, think you're irresistible, do you?

That they didn't speak a common language was not going to be the problem Isabelle had feared. She knew exactly how to communicate with this man. She wondered if she were standing right up against him, would the gun be heard? Probably, oh, well, shooting him wasn't the only way to be sure he wasn't paying any attention to the hut.

"Farlien," he said pleasantly when they were just few feet apart. Ivan's eyes swept her figure and then settled on the swell of her bosom. He said something more that Isabelle assumed was along the lines of "can't sleep?"

Isabelle walked past him towards the house. He turned towards her and away from the hut. She acknowledged him with what she hoped he would interrupt as shyness. He took another step to block her way. For a few seconds they seemed to perform an elaborate dance. Isabelle breathed rapidly, her chest rising under the complex web of the tatting that made up the bodice of the dress. Ivan's eyes remained transfixed.

Pleased that she had his full attention, Isabelle was still astonished that this man was seriously considering assaulting her. At first she had thought to seduce him but it was clear he preferred to be the pursuer. The more reluctant she was the more interested he was. Did he really think he could get away with rape? After all for all he knew Colin was her brother and sleeping in the house. What defense was he going to use? She came on to him?

Men! She thought savagely as she let a small plaintive cry escape her lips. Ivan reached out and caught her arm. He pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his hand. Isabelle resisted the urge to bite him. Mauriri hadn't had enough time to get David to the beach yet. She had to drag this out a little more.

Ivan pulled her into the shadows, her back to his chest. Keeping one hand over her mouth, he pulled at the high neck of the modest bodice. The seams spilt at the shoulders. The rough hand grabbed at the lacy edge of her camisole. Thus far Isabelle had put up a weak show of resistance but she wasn't about to let this thug ruin her favorite undergarment. Still struggling she slid her hand into the secret pocket. Then, before she could do anything, she was loose.

Mauriri had caught Ivan by the collar of his shirt and viciously pulled him backwards. As he spun around, Mauriri fist hit his jaw with the resounding crack of breaking bone. Ivan had no more than hit the ground than Mauriri was pulling Isabelle at a dead run. They crossed the compound and scrambled down the bluff to the rocky beach.

"David?" she cried, gasping for breath. She was unbuttoning the torn dress. She let the skirt fall to the ground leaving her in bloomers and her camisole.

Mauriri's eyes swept the water and settled on the Rattler silhouetted against the night sky. "He and Colin are on the boat," he said defiantly.

"Look!" she said sharply, pointing towards the sea. "The long boat."

They ran together into the surf.

***

"David!" said Colin sharply. "They're coming. They're in the boat, I can see both of them."

David pushed himself to stand straighter. He looked towards Tah-Mey. "As soon as we get the longboat attached we go."

"Aye, sir."

Mauriri clambered over the side first and then reached down to pull Isabelle on board. She was drenched in sea water and half dressed. Her thick hair was plastered to her skull. The men were all scurrying to get the boat underway but for Isabelle time stood still.

Alive, he really is alive. She took him in at a glance, from his bare feet, the iron ring on his ankle; the tattered trousers held at the waist by a belt tied in a knot to the thick beard that hid his mouth and the long hair that brushed his shoulders. She got lost in the fever bright intensity of his eyes. She tried to say his name but her voice would not come.

He reached out to her with his right hand and said hoarsely, "Come here."

Slowly she stepped forward. He pulled her tightly against his chest, his fingers tangled in her damp long hair. He pressed his lips to the top of her wet head and felt her cool small hands on his back.

Mauriri was rushing to hoist the main sail When he caught sight of them pressed together he paused. He was unable to shift his gaze even though he understood the moment to be intensely private.

David raised his head and looked him straight in the eye, "Thank you," he said.

Mauriri nodded and turned his attention back to the sails. He knew David was not thanking him from saving his life but for her safety.

Isabelle wrapped her arms around David. She was horrified that she could feel his ribs. His skin was hot against her cheek. He is so sick, so weak, she thought, but he is alive and in my arms. And then his weight fell against her. "David!"

Colin stepped forward to help her. "He's exhausted. I don't know how he's managed to stay on his feet this long. Let's try to get him below."

It was difficult for the two of them to get him below deck. But not thought Colin as difficult as it should have been. They laid him on his bunk. Colin lit a lamp and heard Isabelle gasp with shock.

David's chest was a mass of yellow, blue and purple bruising. Isabelle's gentle fingers explored his skin. He winced and moaned. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered. She raised her hand to brush his hair back from his forehead.

David's eyes were open; they were bright with fever. He raised his hand and rubbed the ridge of her cheek with his thumb. "Tears?" he whispered.

"Of course not, you know I never cry," she answered back gruffly.

"I'll never let the Devil take you," he said and then his eyes closed and his head rolled to the side.

"David?" she queried urgently but got no response. She looked up at Colin with eyes wide with fear. "Is he raving?"

"I don't know. What he needs now is food and rest," answered Colin. He felt faintly sick looking at the bruises and imagining the beating David must have taken. It was then that he noticed the iron ring around David's ankle. The ankle was swollen and rubbed raw. He went into the small space that served as a galley and heated beef broth. When he came back Isabelle was bathing David. She had a basin of water and a sponge, gently she ran the water over his fevered skin. Colin watched her, wondering how it was he could have ever have thought this woman heartless.

David woke as she was ministering to him. She helped him sit up, supporting his head against her shoulder she offered him some of the broth.

Silently Colin went up onto the deck. He felt as if he had been spying on them.

"You're chilled, I'll get you a blanket," she said, crossing the cabin to a chest.

"If that's all you can think of, of course I won't have as much fun waking up," he said softly.

Isabelle with her back to him choked back a sound that was more a sob than a laugh. It was, like so many of her memories of their times together, hard to sort out the complicated feelings it brought with it. When she turned around she caught him watching her. He was propped up to make it easier for him to breathe. She spread the blanket over him but when she turned to walk away he took hold of her arm. She sat on the bunk with his fingers entwined with hers. "You're safe now, David. You're on the Rattler, your own ship. Mauriri is at the helm, taking you home. You're not alone anymore," she whispered.

David's greenish eyes searched her face. "Isabelle," he said hoarsely. There was something he felt he should tell her, but the words would not form in his tired mind.

"Hush, rest," she said gently stroking his dark hair. She leaned closer to him and pressed her cheek to his forehead. Her necklace, the jade seal, she normally wore tucked safely between her breasts swung free.

David reached for it, he traced the shape. His fingers trembled. Isabelle covered his grasping hand with both of hers. She laid her head beside his and held his hand to her heart.

"Go to sleep, David. You're safe now."

***

"Isabelle!"

"What is it, David, what do you need?" asked Mauriri. He had been dozing on the other bunk. David's panicked voice brought him fully awake.

"Mauriri? Where is she? Where is Isabelle?"

"She's asleep in the other cabin. I'll get her."

"No, no." David sat up and swung his legs slowly over the edge of the bed. He felt a little dizzy. "I'm sorry I was dreaming. She should sleep." He glanced up at the hatch. "It's daylight?"

"It's around noon. The winds are strong; we'll be home in three days, maybe two if the wind holds. Where are you going?"

"Up into the light. I'm, um," David looked around his small cabin. Even though it was familiar and comfortable, it was small and dark. It was too much like the hut. He noticed his favorite red cotton shirt and a pair of drawstring trousers were folded neatly on the table. He picked them up and with Mauriri's help dressed.

It cost him considerable effort to climb the ladder to the deck. Mauriri followed him closely. He was ready to catch David if he lost his balance or if his strength failed.

Tah-Mey was at the helm. Sparrow was near by. They both acknowledge their captain and then looked away in disbelief. Could this emaciated, hollowed eyed, bearded man really be the stalwart, daring, handsome Captain?

Shakily David stood on the deck. He reached out with his right hand to grasp the rigging to keep his balance. His left arm hung limply from the shoulder. His gaze swept the empty horizon. "I guess he really was finished with me," he said softly.

"Who?" asked Muariri. He was standing close by, still watching for signs of David's strength failing him.

"The Devil," answered David. He saw the look of worry and skepticism that passed over his former partner's face. "I'm not raving now. I never knew his name."

"The man who had you kidnapped? All we could learn about him was he was European and had a fairly large steam yacht."

"How did you learn even that much?" asked David as he leaned heavily against the rigging. "How the hell did you find me?"

Mauriri told the story of Lodge finding the Rattler and of the Samoan fighter. David listened thoughtfully. "That's amazing. I suppose Colin says it was the answer to a prayer that William heard that story and put it together."

"William might say the same about you hearing his name and reconnecting him to Isabelle. Miracles do happen. The man you called the Devil, what do you know about him."

"Not much," said David with a shrug. "He spoke English and German. He always dressed in a white linen suit. He wore dark spectacles and a wide brim hat that kept his face in the shadows. He would go and come." David looked away from Mauriri and up at the billowing sails. "He knew Jenny. It all had something to do with Jenny."

"What?" asked Mauriri in surprise. Would they never be free of that woman's evil? "A lover out for revenge?"

"I don't think so," answered David with a shake of his head. "It was colder than that, more calculated. It was as if Jenny's death, even the time she had spent with me had destroyed some careful plan he had. He talked about her as if she was a tool. He kept saying I owed him. He said something about replacing her with Isabelle."

"Isabelle? What would he want with Isabelle?"

"I don't know unless his business in the South Seas isn't finished. He said - -" David broke off and stared out over the rough water. How long he wondered would the Devil's voice haunt him?

"What?" queried Mauriri, he leaned forward to get a good look at David's face. The heavy beard and the long hair hid his expression. Only his troubled eyes gave Mauriri a clue to the depths of his emotions.

"He said Isabelle was meant for him. He kept saying she might be even more useful than Jenny was."

"That's why you sent me back for her."

"Yes. I couldn't seem to put into words why. You must have thought I was mad."

Mauriri pursed his lips thoughtfully and shook his head. "Not much more than usual."

David laughed lowly, wincing slightly.

"What could he want to use Isabelle for?"

"Spying maybe, for one of the European powers. Or maybe just piracy. I never really knew everything that Jenny was involved in or with whom." David closed his eyes briefly. He had learned to think of Jenny as a mirage, as something he had thought he had seen only to discover she was something else entirely. Even so it was painful to think of her. He wanted no more pain at the moment. He simply wanted to be happy he was alive and on his ship. But there was another thought that bothered him. "He was in Matavai, recently."

"The Devil? Are you sure?" Mauriri was stunned by the idea that the perpetrator of all of this could have been within their midst and they never knew.

"Yes," David nodded. "He knew about Isabelle's phonograph. He talked about her and he talked about Lavinia. He'd seen them, he described them. He taunted me about losing Lavinia. He'd been close to her." There was a tremor in David's voice. He turned and looked at Mauriri. "How is Lavinia?"

"Like the rest of us she has been worried about you. She'll be very glad to see you." Mauriri stood lost in thought for a moment. "Neither one of them ever spoke of such a man. We've talked to hundreds of people. If he didn't have information about you they wouldn't have bothered to remember him. David, what was this about if he wasn't a jealous lover blaming you for Jenny's death? I still don't understand what he wanted with you?"

David's laugh bordered on hysteria. "Control, I think. Maybe he did care about Jenny. I don't know. It didn't sound like it when he talked about her but I've no way of judging the emotions of a man like that. I think he wanted me to know that I was in his control and even more than that he wanted me to know that the women I care about are vulnerable to him."

David paused and rested his head against the rigging with his eyes closed. Mauriri waited for him to go on.

David took a deep breath, "They're still vulnerable to him. He's out there somewhere and the damnable thing is I wouldn't know him if he walked up to me on the street. I never saw his face; I never got a feel for how tall he is. The only thing I would recognize is his voice."

"Do you think he'll come after you again?" asked Mauriri watching him with a worried frown.

"I don't know, Mo. I'm more concerned he'll come after Isabelle or you or someone else I care about. I'm sure he would be vastly entertained watching me worry over one of you. That's my value to him, entertainment. Watching me fight for my life gave him great amusement. The Samoan was the first of four fighters. The man, the Devil, would bring them to the island and watch them beat me up. Except for Ivan," said David darkly.

"Who was Ivan?"

"One of the Poles, at least I think they were Poles. None of the rest of them had anything to do with me. They watched me fight, maybe made bets, I know there was a lot of betting among the Chinese. I did win once." A smiled passed briefly over David's beard face. "I made one of those workers a lot of money judging from how he was laughing. Ivan took a personal interest in me; he was the guard I saw every day. He hated me for some reason. He was my last fight. Once he had me down he stood on me until he felt my ribs crack. The Devil was finished with me so if he killed me it was no loss."

"My God," gasped Mauriri. He balled his fist without thinking. "It must have been him Isabelle was fighting with when I went back for her."

"He had her?" cried David. He lost his grip on the rigging and would have fallen if Mauriri had not stepped forward and caught him. He didn't protest when Mauriri helped him on to the cushioned roof of the cabin.

"It's more likely she had him. I felt pressed for time or I'd have waited to see how she planned to handle him. As it was, I thought breaking his jaw was the quickest solution."

David listened; he tapped his long thin fingers against the cushions rapidly. A smile flickered across his lips when Mauriri described the knockout punch.

"If I'd known what he'd done, I'd have broken his neck."

For a little while they sat quietly. David closed his eyes and lay on his back. He smiled as the taste of salt gathered on his tongue. It was the most they had spoken in half a year. That too made him smile. There were many things he wanted to say to Mauriri, questions he wanted to ask, explanations he wanted to give and most of all thanks he wanted to offer but he felt oddly uncertain how to get started.

Mauriri leaned against the rigging and watched him. Finally he said, "How do you feel?"

"Good."

"You don't look good."

David chuckled; he opened one eye to look at his friend. "Take my word for it, I feel good. I feel the ship moving and the sun on my face. Both things I had thought never to feel again. So I feel very good indeed. How are the kids and Lianni?"

"Anxiously to see you," answered Mauriri. Thank God, thank God, this time we are bringing you home. "In the hut you said I wouldn't know to look for you. Did you really not know that we were looking for you?"

David didn't answer right away. "I knew that you would want to believe that I was alive. I knew to that it would drive you mad not to be able to figure out what had happened to me. I didn't know how you would go about looking. The Devil said Tah-Mey had been pushed into the sea and the Rattler had been left adrift. I'm afraid I didn't have much hope for Tah-Mey. On a good day, I thought maybe someone we knew would find the Rattler. Early on that was easy to believe and when I believed that I could believe that you were looking for me. After awhile there weren't many good days. Then I thought the boat was sunk and you would all think I'd drown." Very slowly David sat up. He looked Mauriri straight in the eye when he went on. "Look, Mo, I gave you good reason for doubting my friendship but you never did give me a reason to doubt you."

"That isn't true, I was stubborn--"

"Oh, yes, stubborn, you were stubborn, all right. You were also tired and disappointed. There were even times I thought you hated me but that was when I hated myself for what I'd done. The thing is, Mauriri, what haunted me the most was that we had never gotten things straighten out between us. I was crazy to think you would understand why I was willing to ruin us to help Jenny."

"I wanted to understand, David. But it-"

"Didn't make any sense? Even for me? I can see that now. At the time I thought," he paused and looked out at the sea. "I don't know what I thought. I just didn't want to fail her. A long time ago, I let other people's opinions keep me from helping someone who had depended on me. I didn't want it to happen again." David looked away from Mauriri. He shifted uneasily. His dark eyes slid back to his friend's face. "I wish I could explain why I didn't tell you all of this then instead of accusing you of a lack of trust."

Mauriri regarded him seriously. His strong arms were crossed over his chest. "Thinking back I'm not sure that I gave you a chance to explain."

"You know, Mo, I do understand more than you think about why you got so angry. I thought putting Jenny first was the same as you putting your family first, I'd never blamed you for that. So surely you would understand why I took the risk for her that I did. I thought she was innocent; I thought I was the only one who saw her for who she was."

A small smile lifted Mauriri's lips. "Lavinia and Isabelle told me one time that it wasn't your fault you couldn't see through Jenny. They said a woman can always make a man fall in love with her if she is willing to be everything he ever wanted in a woman."

"Leave it to those two to work everything out. I guess that was the part I didn't understand. The difference between love, commitment and a fraud."

"You weren't the fraud, David," said Mauriri solemnly. He watched David silently for a few minutes. In the sunlight the old bruises around his face were easy to see. So was the pained look in his eyes. Mauriri shook his head slightly. Talking about Jenny wasn't going to do David any good. He needed to get his mind on something else.

"Lodge got a good price for those pearls. You may be able to pay Isabelle off sooner than you thought." The image of the two of them pressed together passed through his mind and he added. "That is if you want to. She really does have a talent for trading."

David raised a dark eyebrow and said, "So the two of you have been sailing together?"

"Yes, well, I've been sailing for her. She insisted that she pay me."

"I'm glad. The boat looks good." David struggled to sit up. He looked Mauriri in the eye. "I don't want to make promises I can't keep but, Mauriri, if you would consider, I mean if you would just think about being partners again I swear to you --"

Mauriri raised his hand and said, "David, I don't want you worrying about the future right now. We will talk about all of this when you're stronger."

"I have a future thanks to you," said David earnestly.

"I'm not the only one you should thank but I needed to find you." Mauriri paused and took a deep breath. "We've had a lot of chances to work things out between us but I let them go by. I am truly thankful to get another chance." He extended his hand and David took it.

They were quiet for a little while. David just wanted to be aware that he was back at sea alive. He looked towards the bow and saw Colin clinging to the rigging. His smile broadened as he remembered the sound of Colin's educated English voice reciting the prayer to the shark god. "How did you get Colin to go along with this harebrained adventure?" David asked Mauriri.

Mauriri followed his gaze to the minister. "What do you mean? The plan wouldn't work without Colin; in fact it was his plan. He is the only one of us who speaks good German."

David shook his head. "Every time I think I've learned to appreciate Colin, he does something totally unexpected. It didn't occur to you what you were asking of him?"

"No," Mauriri shook his dark head. "I'm not following you."

"As far as I know Colin hasn't been on a ship since we pulled him out of that life boat half dead. Truth to tell I didn't think we would ever get him on a boat again."

Mauriri's face paled slightly, "I never thought about it. Once we had the plan I just expected everyone to play their part."

"I wouldn't have thought of it either," said David with a small smile and a shake of his head. "And of course he never said a word. Do me a favor, Mo?"

"Sure, David."

"If I ever forget again how lucky I am in my friends, knock me down and lock me in Morlias's jail until I come to my senses."

Mauriri laughed loud and hard for the first time in a very long time. "It will be my pleasure. I'm going to find something to take that iron off your leg."

Colin, who was anxious to judge how David was feeling, had made himself stay forward and give Mauriri and David time to talk. A broad grin spread over his face when he heard Mauriri laugh.

"Colin?"

At the sound of David's voice Colin turned around. "Yes, David, is there something I can get you? I've sweet potatoes roasting. They'll be ready soon," he said as he walked cautiously towards him.

"Well, that's something to look forward to. I don't believe I will ever feel enthusiastic about rice for dinner again. Look, Colin, there is something I want say."

"What's that?" asked Colin. He stopped near David and wrapped his hands around the rail.

"Thank you." David serious dark eyes sought Colin's. "For coming, for risking your life to save mine, for being willing to make that swim with me nothing but a dead weight around your neck. Mo told me the plan. They didn't have a prayer without you."

A smile tugged at Colin's mouth, his blue eyes slid away from David's to look out over the sea. "Well, you know I'm always good for a prayer or two. I could hardly do less after you looked for me all those months ago."

"I hope that you know we'd have searched as long as it took to find you. Still, we're sailors. It isn't asking much of a sailor to send him to sea."

"But for a landlubber like me--" started Colin with his self-depreciating laugh.

"Wait," said David raising his hand. "Let me say this properly. I don't know what it was like in the long boat but I do know you nearly gave your life for those with you. And the cost to you was very high. Even after you," David paused to find an appropriate word. "Even after you restocked your faith I never thought I'd see you on a boat again. I couldn't blame you. The worst thing about the past weeks was being shut in. I don't think I'll ever willingly shut a room door again. What I mean is, Colin, you're a brave man."

"David--" embarrassed Colin shook his head. The spray covered his spectacles with tiny drops of water; he squinted through them to get a good look at David. His color was better than it was the night before. His eyes still looked a little feverish and Colin was quite sure it would take him sometime to recover his strength. Even so, the energy, the awareness that made David unique was in his voice and in his greenish-brown eyes.

"There really wasn't anything to do in that hut but think. I've taken a lot people in my life for granted. A habit I started long before I came to Tahiti. I haven't realized how fortune I've been in my friends. I wish I could say I'm going to remember in the future to do so but I want you to know I'm thankful for what you did and I know it couldn't have been that easy for you."

"It's true that you are a man blessed with good friends," said Colin thoughtfully, "But it is also true that your friends are blessed by having you in their lives. None of us were willing to give you up. Mauriri and Isabelle searched for you everywhere they could think of. Lavinia, Claire, so many people, David, were doing everything they could think of to find you. We prayed constantly that you knew that. That God would give you faith in your friends."

"I'm not going to tell you this has turned me in to a religious man, Colin," said David solemnly, "But, about those prayers, I think I was aware of them. Because every time I was about to give in I would think of one of you. It would give me a little hope."

They were quiet for a few minutes. It was a comfortable silence of friends who had said the things that needed to be said. Colin touched David lightly on the shoulder and said, "I'm going to check on those potatoes. I suspect I could find you a dram of brandy, for medicinal purposes."

David laid back on the cushion, looked up through the sails at the bright blue tropical sky and laughed.

***

Curled on her side, Isabelle slept soundly. She woke up with a profound sense of well being. Stretching her arms above her head she repeated to herself, "He's alive, we've got him back."

She pulled on a clean shirt and her looked for her shoes under the bunk. Smiling she went to looked for David in his cabin and found his bunk empty. Fighting a wave of panic, Isabelle climbed the ladder like stairs quickly. On deck she turned to the stern and saw him. He was at the helm, his red shirt billowed around him, and his long, dark hair blew in the wind. He looked like a scarecrow. Isabelle was quite sure she had never seen anything more wonderful in her entire life.

Mauriri was leaning on the gunwale near him. He said something and David grinned broadly. He turned and caught sight of her, his eyes brighten. Isabelle felt her heart race.

"Good to see him at the Rattler's helm again, isn't it?"

"Colin. Are you all right?" she asked when she turned to speak to the minister. But her eyes had returned to David before he answered.

Colin pressed a cup of coffee into her hands. "Yes, I'm perfectly all right."

"You did very well. I had no idea you were such an actor. We couldn't have done it without you," she said sincerely. Absently she took a sip of her coffee. "How is he?"

"Weak. The fever isn't gone but his body must be beating whatever infection brought it on. He certainly looks much better than he did last night."

"Do you think we should make him rest?" she asked with a touch of anxiety in her voice.

"I'm not a doctor, Isabelle, but I suspect that standing right where he is, is the best medicine imaginable for him."

She took a deep breath. "Certainly is doing me a world of good."

Colin smiled fondly at her. Then he went below to get her something to eat.

Isabelle didn't approach the helm. Instead she sat on the cushions and combed out her tangled hair. She braided it loosely. She was happy to be back in her own clothes, a man's shirt and loose trousers. Without staring, she watched David and Mauriri talk. For so long she had hoped to see them together on the boat. It felt right and good. She tried not to wonder about her own future as David's partner. It was enough that he was alive and going home. The future would work itself out. It always did.

"Good evening," said David as he walked towards her. He was holding the rigging with his right hand to keep his balance, his left hand was tucked inside his shirt. He was limping but the leg iron was gone. His eyes in the golden light of the setting sun looked a little glassy. "Sleep well?"

"Yes," she answered as she sat up a little straighter. "I was tired."

"And hungry," he said, glancing at the skins of two large sweet potatoes beside her.

"A little. I had a busy night."

David smirked slightly as he hauled himself awkwardly on to the cabin roof. He gave her a sidelong glance. She's so thin, he thought as he noticed how pronounced her cheekbones were, and so beautiful.

"How do you feel?"

"At the moment, weary. But much better."

Isabelle leaned forward and touched the back of her hand to his forehead. "Your fever is going back up. You need to be careful. You should rest now."

She started to pull her hand back; he caught hold of it. It was strange that it was so easy to talk to the others but he felt tongue-tied suddenly with her. Maybe it was that he was too tired.

"I guess this makes us even," he said looking at the display of orange and red along the western horizon.

"Even?" Isabelle looked down at their intertwined fingers.

"Yes, although I suppose I owe you now. You've come to my rescue rather more often than I've come to yours over the past year."

"Does that put you in my debt?"

"In more ways than I can count." They looked at each other then. The emotion in his eyes touched her deeply. "Thank you."

She didn't answer. Instead she carefully pulled his head down into her lap. As he closed his eyes David smiled.

***

The winds held. They made Matavai Bay in two days. The Rattler was spotted well out and by the time they dropped anchor in her accustomed place half the town was on the beach. A canoe was along side as they took the mainsail down. Mauriri helped David into the canoe and joined him. Colin and Isabelle followed in a second canoe.

Lavinia was the first to wrap her arms around David and tearfully welcome him home. She relinquished him reluctantly to other friends. She stayed close, ordering people away kindly, telling them David had to rest. She told Mauriri to take him up to the tavern. David joked about needing a shave and Lavinia quipped, "I've already sharpen the razor."

The crowd was moving away when the second canoe was beached. Isabelle was heartened to have Claire draw her into her arms saying, "I want ever detail, I can sell this story to the TIMES, they will serialize it."

Colin had turned back to thank the young Polynesian man who had paddled out for them. He smiled at Claire's words. He knew they were to make Isabelle laugh. He looked down at the sand under his feet and breathed a sigh of relief. At least I kept my promise, he thought as he turned around. It surprised him that Lavinia was standing nearby.

Her black hair hung in a thick braid over her shoulder. She wore a lacy blouse and a flowered sarong tied over her narrow hips. Her dark eyes sought his; a wide smile lit her face. Lavinia extended her hand and Colin took hold of it. Without a word they walked up the beach.

***

A week later David was holding court at his table in the taproom. His left arm was bound tightly to his chest. He had already gained weight. His hair had been cut and he was clean-shaven. Mauriri was sitting with him. Everyone had something to say to David that night. Most were disappointed all he would say about the kidnapping was that he was thankful his partners had found him. Someone had talked Colin into playing the piano; there was a great deal of singing and laughing.

Claire looked around for Isabelle. She spied her on the porch, standing by the railing looking out at the sea. She went out and stood beside her. She was startled to see tears streaming down her friend's lovely face.

"I know, I'm being ridiculous," said Isabelle in a choked voice. "When he went missing I couldn't cry and now that he's sitting right in front of me laughing his fool head off I can't stop."

Claire put her arm around her friend's shoulders. "You didn't have time then to cry. You had to put all of your energy into finding him. I suppose it may be even better for a woman cry when she's found something, someone precious."

"Don't you dare tell him," said Isabelle as she let her tears fall unchecked. She leaned her head against Claire's slender shoulder. She could hear David laughing.


The End

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