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But she certainly had her way withme.The bottle of wine was nearly empty two hours later when my doorbellsuddenly rang, startling me. The clock showed it was after eleven. Iwas not expecting company, and went into a bit of a panic given how Iwas dressed. Immediately, I worried that something bad may havehappened. Then I froze where I was. I couldn't ask who was therebecause if it was someone I knew, they'd expect me to open the door.And I couldn't do that dressed as I was. So I didn't move. Maybe itwas someone at the wrong address.The bell rang again. Then, whoever it was banged on the door, and Iheard a woman's voice call out, "Danni?! Danni?! Are you there? Openup!"Was it Mandy? It sounded like her. What was she doing here? Then Iworried that something may have happened to Grace. I quickly stood, andwithout a thought to how I was dressed, I click-clacked to the door andswung it open.Standing at the door was, indeed, Mandy. But she wasn't alone! She andGrace's. The fat Dutch master of the craft would sooner lose his cargo than his life, ship, or crew. Our empty hold would carry much booty…. and perhaps a few ‘passengers’ as well. Aboard the Dutch trader, the skipper was indeed sailing without great care. Unwilling to pay the costs of an armed companion ship, he believed cover of darkness would protect him as he dashed with full sail between ports. His lookout in the crow’s nest had warned of sail upwind, but the incoming darkness of a cloudbank sheathed the St. Veronica in darkness. Returning to the company of his passengers, he stopped for some ale before reassuring them of a false alarm. ‘Feel no fear, good people! We shall arrive safely to our destination. Fiddler! A merry tune for our guests!’ And so he proceeded the intervening hours of St. Veronica’s approach. By the time the tendrils of dawn light brightened the sky, the merchantman had almost been overtaken by the swift pirate craft. Edwards and the gunners had been adjusting the.
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