Feeling humbled at the reminder of all Ned had endured, Tess steeled herself for another long interval of inactivity.
It was perhaps twenty minutes later when he pointed down at the water. Tess recognized the dark shape of a fishing smack sailing silently into the cove.
“ ’Tis Jolly’s boat, I’ll wager,” Ned said.
A short while later, the smack dropped anchor. Squinting, Tess could make out the outline of a rowboat gliding toward shore and counted a half dozen men inside, more shadows than forms. When the prow touched land, the rowers climbed out and dragged the rowboat higher onto the beach so that the waves couldn’t wash the vessel back into the water.
Then four shadows headed directly for the bluff, leaving two behind.
Tess couldn’t tell if they spoke to each other. The low sound of the surf, along with the more delicate rush of the waterfall below, drowned out any voices from that far away—and she knew, in turn, that the castle inhabitants couldn’t be heard from this high up on the battlements.
But Ned kept his voice to a whisper all the same. “ ’Ere we go.”
Tess held her breath as the main group of shadows disappeared beneath the castle walls, out of her line of sight. The plan was to wait for the thieves to claim their stolen bounty before swarming them all at once.
“See the two left on shore?” Ned said quietly. “That short fellow by the boat is Jolly. Ye can tell by ’is ’at.”
Tess did see. The others wore knit stocking caps, but Jolly wore a tricorn. She also noted his stance—legs spread, one arm raised as if aiming a weapon.
“Is that a pistol he’s holding?” she asked, suddenly alarmed.
“Aye, Mum, Jolly always goes armed.”
Tess felt her heart jolt. Ian had warned her of the danger, but she hadn’t quite realized that apprehending Banks’s band of thieves could possibly be lethal.
She started counting seconds then, trying to gauge how much time would be needed for the main group of thieves to enter the cave and claim the chests. When she reached one hundred and twelve, the silence of the night was abruptly ended by muffled shouts that carried even to her post on the battlements.
For an instant, the two figures on shore remained frozen. Then the thief with Jolly scurried to drag the rowboat into the water.
More shouts reached Tess as some of the government troops outside the cave spilled onto the beach, heading toward the rowboat to prevent the thieves’ escape. When Banks realized he couldn’t make it to the boat in time, he turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, parallel to the shore.
A lone figure broke away from the militia and raced after him. Seeing he was being pursued, Banks cut left, making for the bluffs. No doubt he hoped to climb his way to freedom and disappear into the thick woods.
Tess recognized the distinctive height and lithe, muscular form of the man in hot pursuit. Ian, she thought with renewed alarm.
Ian changed course when Banks did, and then he, too, disappeared from view, below the battlements.
Tess’s breath faltered, then failed altogether when a small explosion shattered the night—the crack of a pistol shot, she realized.
When another gunshot rang out seconds later, Tess felt her heart go cold.
Dear God, Ian.
A small cry escaped her before she could stifle it, while Ned swore “Gor” under his breath. She’d felt a grave disquiet all evening long, but she had never imagined Ian might actually risk a shooting match with the leader of a gang of thieves.
She clutched hard at Ned’s remaining bony hand, watching as militia troops surged in Ian’s wake.
It seemed an eternity before anyone emerged from the shelter of the bluff. The soldiers were half carrying, half dragging a man between them, she saw.
“Lookee, Mum … that’s Jolly.”
The wounded man must be Banks, since she recognized Ian’s long, powerful stride in another shadow. He seemed unharmed, Tess thought, her relief so profound that her knees almost buckled.
Basil exhaled audibly, while Fanny said, “Thank God.”
Eventually the thieves were successfully rounded up and herded toward the path that led up to the castle, while more soldiers rowed out to the fishing smack, no doubt to commandeer the vessel and arrest any remaining culprits.
When the beach was once again deserted, Basil spoke up. “They will be brought up to the castle courtyard, your grace. Perhaps we should go and meet them.”