Novel 1974 - The Californios (v5.0) Read Free Page A

woman’s voice, and for an instant he was startled into stillness. Then he turned swiftly to the rope ladder that hung over the side amidships and shook it against the hull so she would hear. “This way!” he called softly, and she swam along the hull to the ladder.
    She caught hold, began to climb clumsily, and a moment later he helped her over the rail. She shook her long hair, then started to wring the water from it. Her dress had been left behind and she stood in a soaking chemise and pantalets.
    “Don’t stand there staring!” she said impatiently. “Get me a coat, or something, and then you’d better get away from here.”
    “We aren’t sailing until morning,” Sean said, still stunned by the rapid movement of events.
    “Take my advice and go now or you’ll find yourself in jail. My being here will take a lot of explaining.” She nodded toward the shore. “That pack of fools will find my dress and they will search every ship in the harbor.”
    “That’s all I’d need!” he said, and turning sharply he called down the companionway. “Ten! Pedro! Congo! On deck!”
    Ten Tennison was first on deck.
    “Get the anchor in and enough canvas to move her. No lights. I want to move out as quietly as possible.”
    He ran forward and shook out the jib and by the time he reached the fo’c’s’le two men were beside him and the schooner was already moving.
    Tennison had taken the wheel. “Keep her stern to the town. The longer it takes them to realize we’re moving, the better.”
    Pedro was sharp and quick and not the kind to waste time with questions. He could hear the tumult and shouting ashore and had no wish to be caught up in what was happening.
    The breeze was slight, but the schooner was an easy sailer and took the wind nicely, gliding smoothly through the water. From the shore no perceptible movement could be seen unless someone watched the mastheads against a star.
    “La Boca Chica,” Sean said, indicating the smaller of the two entrances.
    The girl had disappeared and he was just as pleased, for he had no wish to answer the crew’s questions now. He swore softly, bitterly. The last thing they needed now was to have the schooner seized and her crew in prison.
    Creating scarcely a ripple, the schooner slid through the three-hundred-yard gap between Point Pilar and Point Grifo and into the sea.
    Outside there was a good bit of breeze. “Get everything we’ve got on her, Ten. We’ve got to run for it.”
    When the canvas was aloft Ten came aft. “Thought you weren’t sailing until daybreak?” he said, quizzically.
    With as few words as possible, Sean explained. Tennison was his mate, a fine sailorman who had begun his life on the coast of Maine, had fished the Grand Banks until he longed for broader, warmer seas, and had sailed out to China on the big tea ships.
    “Who is she? Some jailbird?”
    “Looks and talks like a lady, but I wouldn’t know. I just wish I’d never seen her and she hadn’t seen our schooner!”
    The wind filled the sails, and the
Lady Luck
dipped her bows deeper, then rode up out of the water like the dainty ship she was, shaking the water from her. The wind was fair and she laid over a bit.
    She was an easy craft to handle, and a fast one. Nothing on the coast could touch her unless it was that new schooner. It had more canvas.
    “Keep her west by northwest, Ten. I’ll go below and see if I can find out what this is all about.”
    He went down the companionway to the small cabin. She had crawled into a bunk, his bunk, and was fast asleep. Her wet clothing lay on the deck.
    He stared at her and swore under his breath. Of all the damned fool…she was pretty, though. Too damned pretty!
    No wonder they had chased her.
    He turned the light low and returned to the deck.
    Tennison grinned at him. “You didn’t stay long.”
    “She’s asleep. What could I do, Ten? She swam out to the schooner and came up the ladder. They were hunting her ashore, and they’d never