Toward the Sea of Freedom (7 page)

Kathleen could have died when she realized what the man had thought she was. She hastened her steps even more. When she finally reached the tavern, she was out of breath. She was hardly cold anymore.

Sighing with relief, she pushed the door open and was assailed by a gust of warm, stale air reeking of whiskey, beer, and tobacco. Kathleen struggled against the nausea that slowly gripped her. It did not seem that the baby inside her wanted to grow into a man who spent half his life in a tavern.

“What splendor in our poor hovel.” A small, rotund man greeted her from behind the bar. “Golden tresses, alabaster skin, and eyes as green as Irish fields. If you’re an illusion, lovely, you can stay, but otherwise this place is just for the boys.”

Most taverns did not let women inside.

Kathleen forced another smile. “I’m Kathleen O’Donnell,” she introduced herself. “I need to talk to Michael Drury.”

The short, fat man eyed her in recognition. “Barney,” he introduced himself. “You’re the girl he wants to run away with? All due respect, but you could’ve caught a better man. How about me, cutie? At least I can offer you something. A tavern always has business.”

Kathleen felt her anger rising. That was the last straw. She did not want to smile or play nice anymore. She wanted to see Michael.

“Listen,” she said in a commanding tone. “I need to warn Michael. The redcoats are after him. So no games now, please.”

The fat man grew serious at once. “Soldiers, girl? Damn it. I knew something was wrong. But no, ‘Just a room for a few days, Barney! Just till my girl can break free. It’s not easy, you know, for a girl like that, saying good-bye to her family.’ He talked with a silver tongue, that one. And I got taken in. And in return he brings the English lobsters to my tavern?” Barney turned and roared into the room behind the barroom. “Michael!”

When he got no answer, he ran back there. Kathleen did not hesitate long. She followed him through the greasy kitchen and into a hallway that led to several doors.

“Michael!” Barney’s call could not be ignored, and indeed, one of the doors finally opened. Michael stepped outside.

“Could you yell any louder, Barney?” he asked grumpily, but then he saw Kathleen behind the fat barman.

“Kathleen! I take it all back, Barney. She justifies any loudness. Aye, trumpeters and drummers should precede her wherever she goes, that the unworthy may turn away their gaze before they’re blinded by too much beauty. Kathleen, that went faster than I’d dare dream.” Michael moved to take her in his arms, but she forced herself to push him away.

“Michael, there’s no time for that. They’ve arrested Billy. And he’ll talk. We have to go!”

“They have Billy? Damn it, that little idiot. Couldn’t put down the bottle, could he? And I warned him, I—”

“Michael!” Kathleen almost screamed. “Does he know about this hiding place?”

“I’d also like to know if he does,” Barney said with the look of an angry bull terrier.

Michael shrugged. “I might have mentioned it. At least, well, we were here Saturday, right? If he names all the pubs . . .”

“I’m ruined!” cried Barney. “I have to get rid of the bottles. If they find them here, let alone if they find you . . . Just get out of here, Michael Drury!”

Michael began to gather his things. But while he was still tying his bundle and Barney was hurrying down the hall with his second armful of moonshine whiskey bottles, a young boy shot through the kitchen.

“Barney, Da sent me. You know, from The Finest Horse. The lobsters are there about the whiskey. And Michael Drury. You should . . .”

Barney cried out for heaven’s help and ran all the faster while Michael looked around like a cornered beast.

“Kathleen, we need to get out of here. Fast. The Finest Horse is two doors down. When they’re done there, they’ll come here. Listen, you’ll go first. From here, through the barroom.”

“And you?” Kathleen stood there as if frozen.

“I’ll go out the back door. We’ll meet at the wharf. I’ll find you.” Michael tossed his bundle over his shoulder, but then something occurred to him. He rummaged a purse out of his pocket and pressed it into Kathleen’s hand. “Here, take that. Quick, what are you waiting for?” Michael pushed her into the hall.

“But, but . . .”

“No buts. Go, Kathleen. We’ll meet later.” Michael put a coin in the boy’s hand. “Here, Harry. Take the lady to safety.”

Voices could now be heard from the barroom. Loud voices, used to giving orders. Michael ran down the corridor. Little Harry, a smart, red-haired boy with the gentle, round face of a cherub, pulled Kathleen in the other direction. She had just enough time to cover her hair with her shawl before she found herself standing in front of two soldiers. The redcoats shoved her aside rudely and began tearing open the doors to the back rooms. As if numb, Kathleen followed Harry into the barroom, where immediately a wave of nausea swept over her again. This time it was because of not only the stench but also her fear.

Two more soldiers held the drunkards in check. “No one leaves the room until we know who you are and where you come from,” one of them growled.

A few men fished for identification papers; others stumbled through explanations. Kathleen went pale with horror. She had no way of proving who she was. They would arrest her; they would find out where she came from and lock her up as Michael’s accomplice.

Cries could be heard from the yard behind the tavern. But Michael had run away. Still Kathleen trembled.

But then she felt Harry’s small, warm hand in hers. “Let’s go, Ma. He’s not here,” said the little boy with a sweet voice. “Only the soldiers are here. Ma, just look at the pretty uniforms they have.”

The little boy looked at the men with innocent admiration—pinching Kathleen’s hand at the same time, however.

“Cry,” he said out of the side of his mouth.

Kathleen sobbed. It was much easier to do that than it had been to produce the forced smiles of the previous hours.

Harry pulled her toward the door. “Good sirs, let us pass!” He turned to the square-shouldered soldier guarding the door. “We didn’t find my da here. But we have to keep looking; otherwise he’ll drink away all the money Grandda gave us.”

The boy tugged emphatically on Kathleen’s dress. She had to play along. She could not leave it to the child alone to lie their way out of there.

Kathleen whimpered. “He wanted to bet it on horses,” she complained. “Can you imagine that, good sirs? And yet it was for our debts. And the farm, dear sirs. If we don’t find Paddy soon, our landlord will throw us out on the street.”

Now Harry cried too. His howls could have softened stones. The soldier cleared the door. The wailing likely played on his nerves, and he showed no interest in the woman. So Billy did not seem to have mentioned Kathleen when he had betrayed Michael. That was something, at least.

“Well, get going, woman,” the soldier grumbled. “And I hope for your sake you find the man, but that’s how they are, your Paddys and Kevins. Drinking and gambling good-for-nothings, the lot of them.”

Kathleen was no longer listening. She hardly managed to stammer a thank-you as Harry pulled her out of the tavern with many a “God will reward you for it, sirs.” Outside, his wailing stopped at once.

“Where to now?” Harry asked Kathleen.

Michael fled through the hallway. The back door was easy to find—after all, Barney had been running back and forth through it with the whiskey bottles. However, the door did not open to freedom but to a high-walled yard.

Michael squinted in the twilight as he hastened outside. There had to be a door or a gate. But the yard was filled with junk—empty bottles and barrels, old tables and chairs. Barney seemed to toss everything there that he could no longer use but did not want to throw away. Michael kept looking in the half-light and finally saw the gate.

Michael ran at the solid wooden gate, throwing himself against it—and found it locked. In desperation, he looked for the handle. Perhaps the key was already in the lock.

“Barney!”

It was useless. Barney was either back in the tavern, claiming innocence, or he had already escaped through this gate himself, knowing full well that he was throwing Michael to the wolves when he closed the gate behind him.

Back in the building, the redcoats were going through the rooms. It was only a question of time before they would come into the yard. Michael had to make a quick decision. Hide, or try to escape over the wall? The first was nonsensical; the men would search the whole tavern. Not to mention the space in the yard; where else would one hide moonshine? But there might be a way out over the wall if he climbed onto one of the barrels—or better yet, a barrel on top of one of the old tables.

Michael worked frantically. The first table broke under the barrel, but the second held. Michael quickly climbed on top of the table, but to get onto the barrel from the table required a balancing act. And the soldiers were already there. Michael prayed they would not spot him immediately in the near darkness, but the two men carried lanterns.

“There he is!”

Michael clambered onto the barrel with the courage of the desperate and heaved himself up so he could climb over the wall. A shot rang out. Michael smelled gunpowder smoke, but he did not let up in his efforts.

Yet—it was too late. One of the soldiers was already beside him and kicked the table and the barrel out from under him. Michael tried to hold onto the ledge of the wall, but the stone was slick from icy rain that had recently fallen. Michael’s fingers slipped, and he fell hard on the ground.

“Michael Drury?” the soldier asked, pulling him to his feet.

Michael did not say a word.

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to be looking after me?” whispered Kathleen. “To, to the wharf. If Michael . . .”

“If they don’t nab him,” Harry mused pessimistically. “Better find that out first. Before he tells them you’re waiting at the wharf.”

“He would never betray me!”

Harry shrugged. As he did, he seemed to come up with an idea. “Listen, lady, follow me. I’ll take you to Daisy’s. You won’t stand out there—well, a bit, the way you look. But it’ll do. Just don’t show her your purse, or you won’t have it anymore.”

The boy pushed her energetically into a side street, but Kathleen resisted when she heard a loud noise from Barney’s Tavern.

A pop. A shot.

“Michael! Michael! I need to go to him,” howled Kathleen.

Harry held on to her dress with unexpected strength. “No way! I just got you out, and you want to go right back in? Are you mad? They’ll probably hunt me down, too, once you give yourself away.”

“But I . . .”

Harry was just as curious as Kathleen was desperate, but he held her out of sight. The two of them peered around the corner at the pub, from where they heard more noise and shouting. And then the door flew open. Two redcoats dragged out a man. He was resisting. Michael was in chains but seemingly unhurt.

“I told you they’d catch him,” Harry said. Then he took Kathleen’s hand. “Come on, you can’t do any more for him. They won’t hang him right away. Tomorrow you can ask where they took him. But for now, we need to get away.”

Kathleen could not think anymore. She was frozen with fear and horror over Michael’s fate. What would they do to him? They would not hang him right away? Surely they would not hang anyone for stealing three sacks of grain.

Harry pulled her through a doorway over which hung a red-painted sign that said “Daisy’s,” nothing more. But it did not take much imagination to picture what went on behind the door.

Kathleen’s horror grew. “But this is, I can’t . . .”

“Miss Daisy won’t bite.” The boy soothed her. “Nor the girls, for that matter. Anyway, they don’t steal from the poor, and they always give me candy. So come on.”

Kathleen entered the dark hallway behind the door, her heart pounding. Harry steered her up a staircase that led to another, narrower corridor along which were several doors. From behind one of the doors came the sound of laughing and chatter. Harry knocked, pushing the door open when no one responded.

“Miss Daisy? There’s a girl here, from the country. Michael Drury, the whiskey distiller . . . she’s his sweetheart. They just nabbed him, and now she doesn’t know where to go.”