The Saintly Buccaneer (35 page)

She found herself talking to Julie a great deal, for she still remembered the strength of the young woman when Curtis had died. She told her about Dan, and as she did so, a queer look came into Julie’s eyes. Finally she said, “Charity, you’re filled with guilt because you can’t marry Dan. Well, so was
I!
” She touched her cheek and her eyes were cloudy for the first time since Charity had known her. “I loved Dan—but he would never have had all of me. Nathan had that—and if
you can’t give a man all of yourself, you’re cheating on him even before you marry.”

“But it’s my fault he’s in prison. If he hadn’t met me, he’d never have been on that ship!”

“No, he’d probably be in a shallow grave at Princeton or Cowpens or any one of a dozen spots where our men have died. Charity, you can’t blame yourself, for you can’t know what God had in mind. Maybe He had Daniel on the
Lady
to keep him from getting blinded or torn apart in some battle. You don’t know. All you can know is, God is good.”

“I wish I believed that!”

“You will believe it someday. God has told me.”

The calm statement hit her like a blow, and she got up and left the room. It angered her, somehow, when people talked in such terms, and she avoided Julie for the rest of the day.

It was almost midnight when Martha woke up for the last time. Charity was asleep in her chair, and she heard a voice calling, “Adam! Oh, Adam!” Charity sat up with a start to see the elderly woman staring open-eyed at the ceiling, her hands grasping at the counterpane.

She leaped to her feet and ran down the hall. Adam and Charles were talking quietly in front of the fire when she burst into the room, crying, “She’s awake—she’s calling for you, Major!”

“Go get the others, Charity,” Adam urged. “Get them all.”

The men walked rapidly down the hall, while Charity summoned Dorcas, Julie, Molly, and Anne from their beds. They threw on robes and hurried to the big bedchamber where Martha lay.

She was resting in Charles’s arms. Adam was kneeling beside the bed, his face close to hers. Charity saw her lips move, and she heard Martha saying, “ ...was never fair to you, Adam—never!” Her voice was weak and thready, but her eyes were brighter than Charity had ever seen them.

“Don’t fret, Martha,” Adam assured quietly. He took her
hand in both of his, and she grasped with the other until he caught that one as well.

“No, I hated you. I was jealous—wanted Charles to be first with Miles. And I made him hurt you—you know I did.”

Adam pulled one hand free and removed a white handkerchief. He gently wiped the tears from her withered cheeks, remarking, “It came out all right, Martha. You must remember. Father and I became very close.”

She sobbed, “Yes—and I hated that, too—I was so hateful!” She continued to weep softly. As Charity watched the scene before her, her throat ached under the strain. She wanted to run, for the old grandmother’s guilt was terrible.

Finally Adam said, “Martha, you must listen to me—just lie there, and let me talk to you....”

He began to speak of his own youth, and how unhappy he’d been. He told her how he’d felt left out, and then how he’d found God.

“I didn’t see how God could forgive me, Martha. But Molly will tell you—she was there. I heard about Jesus and how He loved me in spite of my ways. And I called on Him—and Martha, He heard me! He forgave me! That was such a wonderful time—I can’t explain how it was—but mostly it was like Bunyan’s Pilgrim. I had a load of guilt that was wearing me out, but when I called on the Lord, it rolled away—and it’s been gone ever since!”

She was watching him quietly, and there was a strange look in her old eyes. “Martha,” he went on, “how could I not forgive
you
—when God forgave
me?
I forgive you, dear Martha—but I want you to know more than that. Wouldn’t you like to know God’s forgiveness—wouldn’t you like to meet Him with not a single sin or flaw in your heart?”

“Adam—I can’t!”

“Yes, you must! Now, I’m going to pray, Martha, and you must pray, too, but only one prayer. Just tell God you’re guilty. He knows you are. Tell Him you’re not able to help yourself.
He knows that, too. Then ask Him to forgive you—and ask it in the name of Jesus—He always hears that prayer....”

Adam began to pray, and as he prayed Charity began to sob. She tried to stop, forcing her fist against her lips, but she could not hold it back. Through her sobs, she heard Martha Winslow calling on God in a feeble voice; then it became stronger. She heard Adam and Molly praising God. Soon she felt an arm around her, and she turned to see through her tears that Julie was there. She began to shake so violently that she could not stand, but slipped to the floor. She did not even wonder what the others might think, for something was moving inside her—a power she had never known before.

She was weeping and moaning, striking her hands against the floor. Julie touched her gently, saying, “It’s your time, Charity. Remember what Curtis said?
I’ll be waiting on you!
God is calling you right now. Martha has heard and answered. Now it’s your turn.”

Charity was filled with fear, but there was a longing such as she had never known, and she cried out, “Oh, my God, my God! Forgive me! In the name of Jesus! Help me!”

She continued to sob, but there was a difference. The fear left, and she was filled with a peace that seemed to flow over her. She felt light and free, and she knew that never again would she have the terrible emptiness and fear that had preyed on her.

As Charity rose to her feet, Nathan and Julie embraced her, both of them weeping. She saw Charles and Adam as they looked down at Martha—who had slipped away.

Charles stammered, “I—I’m glad you were here, Adam. She needed you.”

“She went to meet God, Charles. I know it!”

“Yes, I know it, too.” Charles brushed away the tears streaming down his face. “She was at peace—for the first time, I think. See how rested she looks—she’s looked so tired for a long time.”

They all left the room subdued, their hearts filled with
the wonder of God’s working in their lives. But the affairs surrounding death had to be carried out, so in a short while Charity prepared the body, while the rest went about the other duties.

The funeral was held the next day, with the pastor preaching a sermon. Afterward the family returned to the house that now somehow seemed so empty.

After the funeral, they were all seated around the living room and Charles announced, “I have something to say to all of you.” Immediately there was a hush, and he looked around with determination in his thin face. “Mother is gone, but my son is in a prison. I want to tell all of you that until he’s free, nothing else matters to me.”

“Why, Charles, there’s nothing to be done, is there?” Dorcas asked.

“Yes, there is and I’m going to do it. Maybe it might surprise you, Adam, but I’ve been reading the Scriptures myself a little bit.” He smiled at his brother as he continued. “I even know a verse you may have missed.”

“That’s possible, Charles,” Adam replied. “What’s the verse?”

“It’s in Ecclesiastes, chapter 10, verse 19, I believe. It says, ‘Money answereth all things.’ ”

Adam looked curiously at him, as they all did, then asked, “I don’t recall it. Does it say something to you?”

“It says that Dartmoor is like any other prison on this planet. It’s run by men, and men can be bought. It’s simple. I’m going to get Paul out of Dartmoor if it costs every cent I’ve got. If I need more, I’ll steal it.”

Adam shook his head. “Don’t do that—steal, I mean. Your assets are frozen by the Congress until you lose your Tory ways—”

“I just lost them!” Charles interrupted. “I don’t blame England for all our problems, but for whatever reason, I’m an American. I know people won’t believe me, but it’s the truth.”

Adam stared at him, nodding slowly. “Well,
I
believe you,
Charles—and I can drop a word here and there. I think we can get your property released.”

This meant he himself would speak to Washington, and that was all it would take. Charles bit his lip, but said only, “I thank you, Adam.”

“Nonsense!” Adam cried cheerily. “The boy’s a Winslow, isn’t he? Of course, we’ll have him out of that place. But you can’t go to England. In the first place, you’re not able—and in the second place you’d be under suspicion from the minute you set foot within a hundred miles of Dartmoor. And I can’t go—nor Nathan. This war seems to be winding up to a climax, and we have to be here.”

Charles looked at him, a haggard expression on his face. “I know—but
somebody
has to go!”

The room was quiet, and then without the slightest intention of doing so, Charity stated flatly, “I’m going!”

They all stared at her, and she reddened, but held her head high. “I was going anyway—to try to get Dan out of that place. I might as well get two as one.”

“But, Charity, you’re only a woman,” Anne protested.

“I was only a woman when I was captain of a privateer, Anne, and I did that job all right. I’m going to sell my house and use the money to get Dan and Paul out.”

Adam started to argue, but Julie interrupted him. “She will do it, Adam. The Lord said to me last night, ‘I will deliver these men from prison—but not by the hand of man.’ I didn’t understand it at the time, but now I do. It’ll be by the hand of a woman!”

Charles argued, “Charity! What could you do?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going.”

“And you’re going as a Christian, aren’t you, Charity?” Julie asked.

“Yes. I have given my life to God,” Charity declared. Lifting her head high, she went on. “I’m only a weak woman, but God will go with me.”

Charles snapped his fingers and leaped to his feet. “Of course! Adam—William! She can stay with William!”

Adam looked startled; then a smile broke across his wide lips. “That’s right! His church is very close to Dartmoor!”

“Who is William?” Charity inquired, confused by this sudden burst of enthusiasm.

“William is Adam’s older brother,” Julie explained. “He is a Methodist minister in England, and very fond of Adam.”

“He’ll be risking everything, Charles,” Dorcas warned.

“He’ll do it! I know he will!” Charles assured, his face was alight with excitement. “Adam, how soon can you get something done about the property? I want Charity to start right away.”

“I’ll get on it—and I think with a little ‘encouragement’ in the right place, things will go pretty fast.”

“I’m leaving this week,” Charity added. “I can sell my house tomorrow, I know for a fact. I’ve already had offers.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Charles protested.

“You can’t stop me, Charles Winslow!” Charity was startled at her own boldness, but laughed, “Now you know the worst about me—I’m a stubborn female, bound to have her own way!”

“I think, Charity,” Adam told her, “your way is God’s way. And I want us all to pray right now for God’s angels to go before you, and that our men will be delivered by the same hand that delivered two other men long ago from a jail in Asia—Paul and Silas.”

“But that was in the old days!” Anne protested.

“He’s the same God—yesterday, today, and forever! Now, let’s pray to that God!”

As they all joined hands, Charity felt a moment of fear. But as Major Winslow bombarded heaven, the fear fled like a beaten dog, and she was convinced that God was going to England with her!

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ESCAPE

Paul adjusted to the rigors of Dartmoor quickly, primarily as a result of those in his mess. There were six men, including Dan, Laurence Conrad, Thad Alden, Rufus Middles, and Miles Johnson, the white-haired ex-master of the
Lady.
The sixth man was introduced to the group by Paul himself, about whom he wrote in the journal he began keeping from the first day.