Then I thought of Jake Pennlyon and my heart leaped, for I thought constantly: He will come for me. He will look for me and find me.

No ship could sail on this calm sea; was that the reason why this fear was with me? He could not come to me because the Rampant Lion would lie as still and helpless as the galleon.

Fear was back. We were trapped in a miniature floating castle; there was acute danger all about us and our protectors would be helpless against a band of desperate men.

I must face the fact that it was only a matter of waiting.

Morning came—the still and beautiful morning. The sun rose touching the sea with scarlet and began its climb into the sky.

Another day—of breathless calm and growing tension.

We stayed in the cabin. Every time there were footsteps outside the door we started.

The Captain had set the men tasks to perform. They could not swab the decks because there was a shortage of water, but they could carry trays of burning pitch through the mess decks to fumigate them. The odor which came from them was fetid and nauseating. He set them trying to catch fish—a useful occupation, for they could cook what they caught and share it with their comrades.

But even so the tension grew. While they fished they talked of the heretic witch who had set a spell on their ship and was bringing disaster to them all.

Jennet brought news to us.

“The men be getting together this afternoon,” she said. “’Tis a plan of action. They be working out what they’m going to do.”

Her eyes were wide and frightened. She was fond of me.

“Wear the Virgin, Mistress,” she said. “It’ll save ’ee.”

And I put it on, as I said, to please her, but in truth I was ready to clutch anything that could help me and it might do me some good.

They were meeting that afternoon. I was in the cabin and Honey was with me. I did not tell her what Jennet had told me. It would be bad for the baby if she were too frightened.

I imagined what would happen: the sound of feet on the companionway, the hammer of fists on the door.

I made an excuse to leave the cabin. Jennet was at the door, her eyes round with horror.

“What’s happening, Jennet?” I asked.

“They’re up there on the deck,” she said. “None will stop them, Mistress, not even the Captain. They say it’s black magic…”

“They’re coming for me … !”

“Oh, Mistress, it be terrible.”

I started up the companionway. She was pulling at my arm. “Don’t go. If they do see you they’d go mad. You’ve got the Virgin, Mistress. Pray to the Virgin. She protects women.”

I could hear the shouts of the men.

Jennet whispered: “They’m saying you’re a witch. They blame you for all that’s gone wrong. Oh, Mistress, they be building up the fagots on the deck … there. They’ve got the stake to tie you to. It’s what they do to witches.”

“Oh, God, Jennet,” I said. “This is the end … the terrible end.”

“Nay, Mistress, it must not be. I know somewhere we could hide. Alfonso showed me. He puts me in it sometimes … when he won’t be there to look after me. Come quick.”

I followed her, not noticing where we went. In my imagination I could hear the crackle of flames, I could feel my scorched and burning flesh.

I was near to death—horrible death—and the realization was terrifying.

Jennet opened a hatch and we were in a dark hole. The smell was nauseating, but the dark brought comfort.

But for how long could we remain hidden?

Jennet was praying to the Virgin, the protectress of women; and never was a woman more in need of protection.

I prayed with her … prayed for a miracle.

I don’t know how long we stayed in the dark hole. I only know that the miracle happened. After we had been there for what seemed a very long time, the realization came to us that something was happening. The ship was moving.

Jennet cried: “It’s over. The calm’s over.”

She lifted the hatch and stepped out, but she would not let me follow her.

“You stay there where you’m safe. I’ll come back.”

In a short time she returned.

Her face was shining with joy.

“It’s over,” she cried. “There’s a fine breeze. They’re all excited. Nobody’s thinking of you now. You’re safe.”

Yes, the miracle had happened.

What a glorious sight was a ship with its sails bellowing out in the wind, seeming to dip with joy into the ocean as she forged ahead. The wonderful wind was carrying us onward. The sea had become alive again. The calm was over.

Tension eased. There was too much to be done to give the men opportunities to plan mutiny. Orders were shouted and cheerfully obeyed; there was extra food and drink for all to celebrate; there was a thanksgiving service which we did not attend.

A week after the calm we sighted land. We first saw a snow-topped mountain far off, a landmark in the ocean.

The Captain said: “You should prepare to go ashore now. This is the end of your journey.”

We took our few belongings—they were not much, only the clothes we had made for ourselves—and we climbed down into the boat and were rowed ashore. We looked back at the galleon—majestic in the waters—and we knew that we had said good-bye to the old way of life and were embarking on the unknown.

ON THE SHORE A party of men with mules were awaiting us. We were clearly expected. I suppose our ship would have been sighted a day before it arrived. We had seen the conical snow-topped mountain jutting out from the ocean; very soon after they must have seen the galleon from the land.

The Captain, Richard Rackell and John Gregory were among the small party which accompanied us; and as I looked back at the galleon and thought of those days when we had lain becalmed and the terrible fear which had come to me then I could not suppress a feeling of relief and an immense curiosity and excitement. I believed that soon we would discover what our abduction was all about.

As usual I scanned the horizon for the sight of a sail, but there was nothing but an expanse of blue ocean.

The sun was warm, though it was only February. I looked at the others; Honey was within two months of her confinement; she had, in spite of everything, retained a certain serenity. Jennet had that bewildered look on her face; I supposed she was wondering whether her sailor would come ashore. He was not with the party but had remained on board ship. It was no doubt due to this that she felt this anxiety.

The Captain asked us to mount the mules. “We have some short distance to go,” he said.

We obeyed and we set out from the shore.

The animal’s progress was slow and it took us some two hours to cover what could not have been more than six or seven miles. The Captain called a halt at the top of an incline and from there we were able to look down on the town. On the edge of this he pointed out a large white building which appeared to be surrounded by parkland.

He said: “This is the residence of the Governor of this island, Don Felipe Gonzáles. The house is known as the Hacienda and it is there we are going.”

“For what purpose?” I asked.

“You will discover,” he answered.

Our mules carried on down the slope toward the town and the white house and at length we came to iron gates. These were opened by a man who bowed to us and we went through them into a drive on either side of which grew tall flowering shrubs, pink, white and red. Their heavy perfume hung in the air.

We came at length to the portico; three white steps led to a door, which was opened by a servant in yellow and black livery. We went into a hall which was dark after the brilliance of the sun outside.

We were taken to a small room and there we were left—the three of us—almost in the dark, for the tinted windows and heavy drapes shut out the sun.