Chapter 36

Philip, one of his older brothers and two of his friends arrived at Pirate's Luck shortly after dawn on Sunday morning, all four of them armed with long guns. Bess stirred up a stack of griddle cakes that they wolfed down with the help of a jar of blackberry jelly and a comb of dark honey.

Maguire and Jamison arrived about an hour later in the lawyer's rig. Neither of them brought a weapon so Anne gave the big blacksmith a scorched pitchfork that had survived the fire and handed Mr. Maguire the shotgun she had recently purchased.

They sat on the stoop of the back porch, telling stories and trying not to worry their hostess, until they heard the sound of hoofbeats and the baying of hounds. They trotted out to site of the rude seedbed where the stable had once stood and spaced themselves a yard or so apart. Anne trailed after them, her old blunderbuss fully loaded with buckshot, more worried than angry

First came a rider dragging a dead animal, what was left of a red fox and then came the hounds, dozens of them yelping and baying. The rider swung aside with a curse, and Philip's brother fired a blast of salt in front of the pack's leaders and they turned down hill, over and under the rail fence, barking wildly. The well-dressed riders were right behind the dogs, yahooing and hooraying, jumping the low fence near the house and heading right for the tobacco seedlings, ignoring the dogs, whipping their long-legged mounts.

Anne and her small posse shouldered their weapons and held their ground. One rider fell off his horse as he turned in front of another as several reined up quickly. Quirts were flourished, some horses reared and a few foul oaths were heard, but the hunt turned aside, skidding down the hill, crossing the watercourse and disappearing into the woods, yahooing as they went.

Bess brought out the bottle of peach brandy and went back for a handful of small, stemmed glasses. Everyone got a dram and while they were sipping and jesting with each other, a well-dressed rider trotted into the yard, dismounted, approached Anne and doffed his tricornered hat.

"Please accept our apologies, Miss. Some of our members, well, they forgot themselves this morning. Won't happen again. My word on it." He bowed, waved his hat toward his knee, mounted and rode off at a fast canter, up on his toes.