 Upload with Henry Morgan! Just as Jeffery and Hero are about to escape from the swamp, Jeffery is struck down with fever. Determined to stay with him, Hero carries him through the raging storm and eventually finds sanctuary in the sheltering boughs of an old tree. Henry Morgan realizing that a storm is approaching has his ships put out to anchor in the bay. When the wind dies down, he allows Deats to return to the shore and round up the stragglers, not knowing that Deats intends to desert. Jeffery and Hero's care tosses and turns in his delirium and Hero fears that his death is near at hand. It sure does seem a mighty sad thing after escaping from that hell-cam. He should die fever. It ain't just fair. You know what I do, Miss Jeffery? When the Grey Lady of the Dawn comes up in the sky, I'm going down this tree trunk and I'm going to look for some leaves and herbs that I used to find in Africa. I sure think I would find these if you hold on to that spark of life until the light comes up at dawn. So you lie quiet in message, Jeffery, and don't go and die on me this night. Do I feel you might? In morning I go and see if I can find those herbs and leaves. So Hero keeps his vigil beside his newfound friend, praying that the spark of life will not leave Jeffery. And as he sits there watching, softly croning words of comfort, trying to help, the drizzle stops as the rain clouds break. Predawn stars shine watery, then flicker and go out before the approach of Days Herald. Through the trees in the eastern sky, streaks of orange and yellow light the heavens, behind the lagging dispersing clouds. The air is fresh and clear and cool. The yellow light reflects the blueness of the celestial dome, and the few remaining clouds dissolve before that optimism born at the birth of each new day. The jungle begins to stir. Birds ruffle their gay reds and blues of their plumage to shake off the wetness left by the storm. Their throats open and they sing a new poem to a fresh day. Monkeys uncurl as they stretch from their slumbers and prattle merrily in their chattering tunnel, while the sun, red-eyed, peeps over the horizon before plunging up into the heavens. But Jeffery has grown quiet and still as though in the very presence of death. Anxiously Hero watches him, then leaves to go on his search. And on the other side, overlooking Port Royal, a man cautiously toils up the roadway, frequently looking behind to be sure there is no one in pursuit. He curses that dawner's here so early. He would have liked to have reached his destination under the protecting grayness of pre-dawn. When the long boats had grounded on the Jamaican shore, Deats had seemed to the rounding up of the stragglers so that none could read his intention. Then it had been an easy matter as the boats pushed off to slip away into the darkness. But the hours of darkness had sped by and dawners caught him still on his journey. A fear keeps nagging at the back of his brain that perhaps his absence was discovered too soon, and Morgan, thinking that perhaps he'd been left behind, inadvertently had set a vote back to find him. And that is why he keeps looking over his shoulder so frequently and anxiously. Trees and palms climb tall and green alongside the rough and twisting road. Deats is small and dwarf beside them. Suddenly the road turns sharply, and the trees fade away on one side as it runs to a buff on the hill. Deats walks to the edge. Below him, like a toy thing, stretches Jamaica with its freshly washed face. The island is green and clean beneath his feet. The town of Port Royal peeps sleepily out from its many palms and gardens. Its buildings seem no bigger than tinder boxes and look cool and inviting. The island stretches out around the bay which is deep. Deep blue, flecked with white. There at the entrance which is guarded by the reef is the site for which he had hoped. Ships in line, their canvas filled with wind, their boughs dipping deep into the blue, sailing like toy swans on a child's bath. And as he watches, the leading ship turns to navigate the reef. The sun, fresh from bed, playfully picks it up, painting it gold and making it seem to come alive. Deats' laughter is laughter born of freedom. It fills the air around him. Morgan has sailed. There will now be no pursuit. He is free, free to think of the life he has planned, the thoughts which will become a reality in a few days' time. Immediate danger has passed. He can now think only of Kitty and enjoy his anticipation to the full. But Kitty has lain awake all through the night. Her ears listening for what she knows will come. Jeffery's footsteps. And even now, as daylight fills the hut, her confidence cannot be shaken. He said he would come and come, he will. And suddenly she hears them and his name springs to her lips. But she must not utter it and give warning to Dolores. And so it is choked back. With her heart pounding, nearer and nearer the footsteps come. They halt outside the door. A hand is placed upon the latch. The door is quietly pushed. A widening gap of green is seen behind it. Rescue was come as she knew it would. The door's open wide. I have it back. I'm here to say. Tiat, it's you. And who else would you be expecting? You had a look of expectancy upon your face when I came in. I thought for a brief moment you might be glad to see me. Ah, now what if it brings the tears to your eyes, huh? Tiat, why are you here? Eh, have you forgotten? I told you Captain Morgan was sailing today. I have come to be with you, too, until it is time for us to leave. What is the news, and what are y'all? I, they're still seeking for you. The whole island is aroused, because they would never come here. Who would think that we would hide in the jungle? Kitty, see over there at the convict camp. Your friend Jeffrey Hunter, he is down there. He is lost forever in the eyes of the world. Do you hear that, Kitty? He is lost forever. Who knows, he may be dead even now. Eh, they died very quickly down there. Stop it. He isn't dead. He'll come back, you see. One of these days, he'll come back and have his revenge upon you, you see. And with you, too. Don't forget it was because of you that he was captured and put down there. Do you think that he'll forget that? Eh, you'll soon forget him anyhow, Kitty. I'll see to that. When we make our home in Cuba, there'll be only me. Eh, sometimes I feel I can't wait that long. You're looking to me so very beautiful, Kitty. You're lovely, soft hair, round your face. Eh, I can hardly believe that at last you're going to be all mine, for just as long as I wish. Oh, eh, it's your most exciting thought. Then, dear, you had better forget it for the moment. We are not out of danger yet. We have yet to leave these shores. Yeah, in a fine state of nerves, Delare. Would not you be if you were being kept here in this filthy hut with this woman for days? I'm nearly going out of my mind with boredom, with worry and anxiety. Eh, it will not be long now. Surely the ship will be calling very soon to take us away to Cuba? Eh, I know when it is coming. I will keep the information to myself. I will feel a lot safer if I do not share that secret. You have the air-tech necklace with you? Oh, yeah, but of course. Is it not a grieve that I'll give it to you when we leave Cuba? Two such wicked people as you will not be allowed to succeed in this wild plan. So, you have changed again. Also, the night you seemed so different. Now, fear has come back again. Eh, it doesn't matter what she thinks or what she believes. There's nothing she can do. What's that? Right. Stokes. Bloodhounds. Bloodhounds? Don't they use those dogs for tracking down people? Eh, someone must have escaped from the swamp, some slave or some convict, isn't it? That is just what I didn't want to happen. Why? Oh, don't you understand? All the guards will be out searching for this escape convict. They might just stumble across our hiding place here. They will have already been told to look out for you to learn, isn't it? They should come here. All our, all our scheming will go for nothing. Well, perhaps the convict could have gone not far. They will catch him tonight. No. No, their task will be very hard because the rain will have washed away all their traces. There'll be no sense for the dogs to follow. We must stay in this hut and not move from it. We must be very quiet. Now, if you dare raise your voice, Kitty, and try to attract attention by Heavens, I swear I'll throttle you. But Kitty isn't listening to Deathe's threats. The disappointment she showed in his arrival has given way to a new wave of optimism. The baying hounds mean a convict has escaped, and that can only mean one thing, Jeffrey's escape. The rain will have obliterated his traces. He will be behind him. He will remain hidden in the jungle until the pursuit is past. And then, of course, then, of course, he will come and rescue her, and will then pay his account with Deathe's. The fear which he felt when she read her fate in Deathe's eyes has gone. Helpless as she is, she need fear nothing from him. Only a few hours to wait, and then Jeffrey will come. Not so far away, Hero pauses in his task of gathering herbs and leaves and listens to the baying of the hounds. Hastily taking what he has gathered, he returns to the tree and climbs up beside the still unconscious form of Jeffrey. The fever makes him burning hot. His breath is deep and short. And while Hero compounds his mixture, he listens to the baying of the hounds going further away. A sigh of relief escapes him. Satisfied at last with what he has done, he applies his mixture to the patient, and then sits beside him, waiting, waiting. Two days pass. Two days of watching, broken only when Hero tends to Jeffrey in his fight to break the fever. Occasionally during the two days, he's heard the baying of the dogs, but always far away. And Kitty, during these two days, has waited, and waited. Faith, giving way to wonderment, to apprehension, to fear, and finally to despair. There is only one thing which he can believe. Jeffrey isn't coming back for me. He didn't mean it. She cares not now what happens to her, but her mind is numb. She has not noticed that Delores has been talking earnestly to an hour-excited diets. Did you hear that, Kitty? Tonight is the night we leave for Kiel, though. And when the sun rises on the next morning, Jeffrey stirs and opens his eyes. You're better now. The fever is gone. I knew it would. You live now. What are you talking about? What are we doing here? Well, the rain. Tom. Yes, sir? We escaped, and I carried you here. You had the fever, but you're better now. We've been here two days. I feel so weak. Two days, you say. But we should have gone to the hut to Kitty. I promised the rest of your kitty. Two days here, though. We must get to that hut at once. You're too weak. I don't care. You just have to help me to get there. There's the hut. You carried me quite far enough. I'm strong enough to walk here. Put me down here, and I'll go the rest of the way. Up by the window so I can peep in. They are messes, Jeffrey. It's best to look in first and see what's going on. That's right. Can you manage? I can see it here, though. But they've gone. The hut is empty. So Kitty has gone. He knows not where, but to what fate he can imagine. Listen to the next episode of A Float with Henry Morgan.