 A float with Henry Morgan! Deats with the unwilling kitty has arrived in Cuba under the protection of Dolores and has been well rewarded for the services he has done. Jeffrey Hunter and Hero have been pardoned by the Governor Sir Thomas Motford have set out to overtake Henry Morgan to warn him that he is possibly sailing into a trap. Eventually, Jeffrey and the sloop provided by Sir Thomas overtakes Morgan's fleet. Abort the flying gull, Morgan suspiciously watches the sloop approach. He sees the longboat put out and make towards his ship. Through the glass, he recognizes Hunter. Believing him to be a thief and a scoundrel, Morgan gives orders that Hunter is to be taken prisoner as soon as he comes aboard the flying gull. You hear me, patchy? Put that thieving scoundrel in chains and throw him in the hold of the ship. He, you know, ever comes aboard with him. You sure that it's hunter captain? Go ask my eyes. Do you think I'm likely to forget him? Look at him, sitting there in the stern of the longboat. Well, he'll get an unhappy surprise when he comes aboard my ship. You'll get a warm reception, Hunter. You'll get all that when I'm ready for you. But ain't it strange, Captain? What's he to be killin' back here for after what he done to you? And the devil knows what he has in his mind. He's here for some mischief I want. He's probably concocted some story. And now comes expecting me to believe it and planning in his foul mind more treachery. I leave you, patchy, I, to give him a warm reception. If I stayed, I might strike him dead upon sight. And I don't want to do that. I don't want him to die too easily or too quickly. Tonight, we reach them out of the river. Then the darkness will raid and sack Santa Paula, piling our ships with its pleasure. And then tomorrow, when we're at sea once more, then there'll be time to deal with Jeffrey Hunter. Time to make him realize that a man doesn't cross Henry Morgan and die easily. It's a long boat. It's a long side now, Captain. Throw him a ladder. Let him come aboard. I'll be in my cabin, patchy. Going over plans for the attack tonight. Signal to the other captains of the other ships to come aboard the flying gullet sunset. We will then finalize plans. By going over them again in my cabin, I will perhaps drive ports of this treacherous swine from my mind. All right, you men. You heard the captain's orders. As soon as this cure comes aboard, seat him and whoever is with him. Adore your pistols. That's right. Now make sure they're keyed and primed. He's coming up the ladder now. Let him and whoever is with him come aboard. I'll take them when I give them the word. All right, there. Where's Captain Morgan? We've had a plan to catch you people. Come on, hero. We'll go and find the captain. They're not so fast, Hunter. Well, what's wrong with you men? Why are your pistols drawn? You all know me. Where's Captain Morgan? Well, someone inform him on board or I want to see him urgently. All right, you men. You know what you've got to do. Take the nigger, too. Take your hands off me. Leave, go. What is going on here? Where is Captain Morgan? I demand to see him. You'll see Captain Morgan all right. Much to your sorrow. He's itching to get his hands on you. He has more important things to do tonight. But tomorrow, huh? Tomorrow you'll provide sport for the crew. What game do you think you're playing with a captain coming back here after doing what you did to him? Do you think a man like you could steal the Aztec necklace and then have Captain Morgan fall alovier? I must see Captain Morgan. Don't you understand? It's urgent. Now come all these miles. I had nothing to do with the Aztec necklace. If you don't take me to him, you'll all be sorry. I have come to save you from fading into a... Ah, shut up. Take them both below and put them in chains. You must listen to me if you don't take... Away with him. Put them in the deadliest and deepest part of the ship that you can find. Unceremoniously, like bags of chaff, Geoffrey and Hero are seized by a dozen pairs of hands. Struggling, they are pushed and pulled. The air is filled with cheers and curses which drown out their cries of protest. Overwhelmed by weight of numbers, they are forced below into the very bowels of the ship. A lantern is lit and held high. Its light is pale and yellow in the gloom. Heavy chains and feathers are hung around the prisoners. The jeering voices and the lanterns go. The door slams heavily. The two men are left in the blackness and a silence which is broken only by the scurrying rats. And far away, just near the edge of the horizon, the fleet of spannerships draw up information. As a net closes in about a darting fish, so do these ships draw in, in a semicircle, about Henry Morgan's unsuspecting fleet. They can bide their time with patience. Wait confidently till Morgan takes his ship's landward and enters the river, which is the trap. And so this fleet waits. While oblivious of its existence, Morgan plots his night's work and Geoffrey with Hero is in the darkness of the ship. I never expected this would happen to us, Mr. Geoffrey. I can't understand it. It is something which I, in my blindness and impatience should have foreseen. Of course, Henry Morgan believes what Sir Thomas believes. That I was responsible for taking the Aztec necklace that I betrayed the trust he put in me. I don't wonder he refuted to see me. But, Mr. Geoffrey, you came all this way to give him warning. I know. There must be something we can do, Hero. And what is going to happen to us tomorrow? Unless I can get word to Captain Morgan, there might not be a tomorrow for any of us. I know that woman who came to Jamaica got back to a Spanish possession and by now she'll have given warning as to Morgan's plans. They'll be waiting for him. Spain would pay any price to have Captain Morgan as a captive in their hands. We have to see him, Hero. We must make him listen to us. Take us to him. We must call and call, Hero, till someone comes. And when they do, we will make that person listen to us. Raise your voice, Hero, and call. But their cries fall upon unheaving ears. There is no one who cares to listen to them. The crew of the flying girl have other things to think of. There is the thrill of the night ahead, the fight, the screams of the vanquished, the plunder, the loop, the pleasures to be got from a fat and wealthy city plundered by buccaneers come. So, day fades. Morgan has his conference with the other captains. Details are made. They return to their ships. The night is black around them. All lights are dust. The flying girl leads the short line of ships silently towards the coast and the mouth of the river. Keep your mind on the steering, Pachai. The slightest deviation from our course will put us on a sandbar. I can't. You've got much time, Pachai. You'll be well up the river and past the fort which guards the mouth long before moonrise. The night is dark. Everything is to our advantage. I hope no man is full enough to show a light. We must be drawing near to the mouth of the river now. If we can get past the fort without being seen, we're bound to succeed. Very different tonight, Captain Morgan. I don't understand you at all. You're usually so very excited and so full of enthusiasm. But tonight you're sort of... you're sort of quiet. I just can't seem to get that man Jeffrey Hunter from out of my mind, Pachai. The cold rage I feel against him tends to shut out everything else. And I'm worried too. What about, Captain? Tonight, I keep remembering the very sudden disappearance that the arts made. That puzzled us too, Captain Morgan. On the morning that you found that he'd not come back, your word is that his name was not to be mentioned again. I believe that the treacherous swine had lost courage. But now I'm beginning to wonder if Jeffrey Hunter had anything to do with his disappearance. The feeling that perhaps I should have questioned Hunter. Anyhow, it's too late now. It will have to wait. We're in the mouth of the river now, Captain Morgan. If only I can get the rest of my ships past that fort, which is somewhere over there in the darkness. Then our plans will be bound to succeed. And tomorrow, Pachai, the loot which is waiting for us in Santa Paula will weigh down our ships. And being in the kind of mood that I meant tonight, Pachai, I can assure you that Santa Paula will be shown no mercy at all. It will divulge every doubloon in the city. I pity the man who crosses me tonight. Silently, like kinsmen of the flying Dutchman, the ships glide into the mouth of the river. There are no warning cries coming from the fort. Night has held forth her dark hand in friendliness. The priming of pistols it looked to. The keenness of cutlass is felt. The talk of boastful deeds is whispered amongst the crew. Many there are who will never see the sun rise at the morrow. But all talk of the thrill of the night. For these men live by taking what they want. And death is always lurking and waiting. The short line of ships swing around the bend of the river safely away from the eyes of the fort. The jungle closes in about them, faintly silhouetted against the darkening sky, which dances with the dotted lights of a million stars. Quiet everything is. The faint lap of the still water against the slowly moving hulls. An occasional plop as an inquisitive fish jumps and makes widening ripples in the river. Perhaps the quietness is broken by the cry of a bird awakened startled from its sleep. That is peace. A peace which is a prelude to carnage. For one of the ships small boats put out heavily laden with armed men. These are to attack the fort from the rear and silence it so to make the return journey safe. But out at sea, the spanners ships draw near. They are to stand at the mouth of the river like fox terriers watching for a rat. While below the decks of the flying gull, two are in chains. How still the ship is riding, hero. We must be well up the river now and you ain't seen Captain Morgan yet, no? It doesn't look as if I'm likely to see him either. We're in the river, I fear. Any warning that I could give him now would be too late. I have done all I could. I've tried my best to see Captain Morgan, hero. Nothing can stop him now from attacking Santa Paula. And there is nothing, nothing at all to save him from disaster. Santa Paula lies just ahead, sleeping peacefully. It will not belong before the stillness of the night is shattered by the screams of a sacked city. Listen to the next episode of A Float with Henry Morgan.