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as she could. She tucked the knife into the waist of her dress, crawled through the open window and walked away at as brisk a pace as she dared. So far, no alarm had been raised and she feared running would do just that. As she approached the bunkhouse, Lilith looked around for her mother, but she was still laboring in the cane fields. That was a good thing though, Lilith thought, none of the other white men would be around the estate home for some hours. She would have some time to effect an escape.

Lilith shed the apron and head dress and kept to a path away from the road that allowed her to stay out of sight from the cane fields. She walked in the scorching heat and humidity of the Haitian sun, only pausing to look back momentarily when the thought of her mother crossed her mind. Hours drug by and the sun dipping ever lower over the western horizon did little to lower the temperature. It seemed even the breeze off the sea brought little relief and in the constricting dress, with no water, Lilith was soon exhausted of the walk. Port-Au-Prince was only a couple miles away and she could see the masts in the harbor, little beacons of freedom and escape to Lilith. She stopped to rest near a squat tree a way off the road. She finally found respite from the sun in the shade of the tree, looking over the beautiful Caribbean coast. Carefully watching the road, Lilith knew that by now Francis’ body had to have been discovered and his people would be looking for her. If they got to the port before she did, they would be watching for her there as well. With nothing but a kitchen knife to defend herself, she suddenly began to feel like her escape plans were hopeless. Francis was a fat old man and she had surprised him during his attack on her. It would be much harder, if not impossible, to defend herself against someone trying to apprehend her. These thoughts ran through her mind, gripping her with a carnal fear of being caught and killed or worse, returned to the estate.

Noises down on the road caught Lilith’s attention and snapped her thoughts to her immediate situation. Riders on the road, carrying lanterns and armed with muskets were on their way towards Port-Au-Prince. Lilith could see they were not soldiers and studying them harder she recognized one of the faces. They were from the estate, no doubt searching for the murderer of their collective employer. Lilith waited for them to pass completely from sight before she roused herself from her hiding spot. With any good fortune at all, she could skirt the edge of town and make it to the dockyards. From there, she hoped to stow away aboard a vessel heading somewhere and leave Haiti forever.

Moving in the moonlight, Lilith felt exposed and kept to the shadows as much as she could. In the pale glow, she could still see decently well enough to make slow progress across the rough terrain towards the harbor. Trying to work out in her mind how to get aboard a ship, Lilith was careful to avoid roads and paused often to listen for signs of pursuit. After hours of methodical progress and with the moonlight about to fade away Lilith came to a halt a short distance across the bay from the harbor. There were several silhouettes of ships in the harbor and some smaller vessels moored up by the pier. From her vantage across the bay, Lilith watched sailors returning to their vessels under the brilliant tapestry of stars in the dark night sky. The water of the bay was placid calm, the tide ebbing slowly out exposed a broadened beach that would allow Lilith to walk within a couple hundred feet of the pier. She carefully edged her way out onto the exposed rocky shores and made her way as far as she could towards the pier.

Reaching the water’s edge, Lilith eased into the water up to her waist and took a deep breath trying to adjust to the chill water. Then she plunged in the rest of the way. She could swim, not well, but well enough to cross this small stretch she thought to herself. As she approached the boats docked at the pier her legs began to fatigue, her arms burned, and she struggled to keep her face above the water. Her dress felt heavier and heavier by the second and soon she was gasping for panicked breaths while fighting to buoy her face out of the water. All forward progress stopped as she was consumed with a struggle only for air. The chill of the water overcame Lilith, her strength to fight her head above the water failed. Clawing at the surface felt impossible, her feet felt like lead weights, her chest felt as if it would explode, her vision faded. Sinking slowly to the floor of the bay she succumbed to unconsciousness.

H.M.S Valor

6 Aug 1808

50 Degrees 40’N, 1 Degree 38’W

William stood on the quarterdeck of the valor, observing the hands as they milled about their work. Captain Grimes, currently below in his cabin, would be on deck soon. William was already in awe of his new commander, a sailors’ Captain, as far as William could tell he was a supremely disciplined man but also very fair with the crew. He had spoken with Mr. Ordman, the Midshipman whom he had met on the pier accounting loading supplies, about their commander.  William learned of an instance where Captain Grimes had derated a Midshipman, causing him to become an ordinary seaman for a time because the young man was not proficient enough in basic seamanship and gunnery tasks. This sort of thing happened regularly throughout the King’s Navy, but it was a horrid sentence for a young hopeful officer. This sort of handling though, would often teach the young man the

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