The Witch of Blackbird Pond - Elizabeth George Speare [9]
Nat looked up and caught her wistful eye. "Jump in, why don't you?" he taunted.
"You warned me never to do it again," Kit replied incautiously.
"Do you need an excuse? I'll shout for help and go under. You couldn't just stand there and watch me drown, could you?"
"Yes, I could," Kit laughed in spite of herself, "and I would, too."
"Then you can stay there and frizzle," responded Nat. As he paddled toward the ladder Kit watched him with both envy and relief. He had sounded as friendly and easy as on that first morning in Saybrook harbor.
As though to prove that the constraint between them was broken, in the next wait for the rowboat Nat strolled over to join her where she stood watching.
"I'll wager you're wishing you'd never left Barbados," he said. "'Twas unfair of me to tease you."
"How I envied you," she exclaimed. "To get into that water and away from this filthy ship even for a moment!"
In a split second a squall darkened Nat's blue eyes. "Filthy—the Dolphin?"
"Oh," she laughed impatiently, "I know you're forever scrubbing. But that stable smell! I'll never get it out of my hair as long as I live!"
Nat's indignation found vent in scorn. "Maybe you think it would smell prettier with a hold full of human bodies, half of them rotting in their chains before anyone knew they were dead!"
Kit recoiled, as much from his angry tone as from the repulsive words. "What are you talking about? People—down in the hold?"
"I suppose you never knew about slaves on Barbados?"
"Of course I knew. We own—we used to own—more than a hundred. How else could you work a plantation?"
"How did you think they got there? Did you fancy they traveled from Africa in private cabins like yours?"
She had never thought about it at all. "But don't you have slaves in America?"
"Yes, to our shame! Mostly down Virginia way. But there are plenty of fine folk like you here in New England who'll pay a fat price for black flesh without asking any questions how it got here. If my father would consent to bring back just one load of slaves we would have had our new ketch by this summer. But we Eatons, we're almighty proud that our ship has a good honest stink of horses!"
Nat was gone again. What a touchy temper he had! She hadn't meant to insult his precious ship. Why did he deliberately turn everything to her disadvantage? He had been just on the point of making friends. Now the trip would probably be over before she could speak to him again. And why should she care—a rude, freckle faced sailor who took more notice of a strip of canvas than of a brocaded gown? At least John Holbrook knew how to speak with respect.
But even John Holbrook did not approve of her completely. She was forever astonishing him. Last night, for instance, she had reached impulsively for the volume he held, opened it at the marked page, and squinting curiously at the words in the wan light, had read aloud:
"We are in the first place to apprehend that there is a time fixed and stated by God for the Devil to enjoy a dominion over our sinful and therefore woful world. Toward the end of his time the descent of the Devil in Wrath upon the World will produce more woful effects than what have been in former Ages. The death pangs of the Devil will make him to be more of a Devil than ever he was—"
"Goodness!" Kit wrinkled up her nose. "Is this what you read all day long?" She looked up to find John staring at her.
"You can read that?" he questioned, with the same amazement he had shown when she had proved she could swim. "How did you learn to read when you say you just ran wild like a savage and never did any work?"
"Do you call reading work? I don't even remember how I learned. When it was too hot to play, Grandfather would take me into his library where it was dark and cool, and read to me out loud from his books, and later I would sit beside him and read to myself while he