Before he could finish, Katherine had caught his arm and was pointing over in the direction of the river mouth. "Hugh, wait. Do you see that? There's someone out there. In the surf. I thought I noticed it before."
"More damned infantry?" He turned to stare. "They'd not try swimming after us. They'd wait for longboats."
"I can't tell. It's over there, on the left. I think someone's trying to wade out."
He squinted through the rain. A figure clad in white was waist deep in the surf, holding what seemed to be a large bundle.
"That's no Roundhead. I'll wager it's likely Briggs' mulata. Though she's just a little too late. I've a mind to leave her." He paused to watch as a wave washed over the figure and sent it staggering backward. Then another bullet sang past and he heard the shouts of Benjamin Briggs.
"Maybe I owe a certain planter one last service."
"Cap'n, we've got to get this tub to sea." Mewes was crouching behind the bulwarks of the Defiance. "Those damn'd Roundheads along the shore don't have many muskets yet, but they're apt to be gettin' reinforcements any time now. So if it's all the same, I don't think I'd encourage waitin' around all night."
"John, how are the anchors?"
"I've already weighed the heavy one up by the bow." He called down. "Say the word and we can just slip the cable on that little one at the stern."
"Maybe we've got time." He pushed the longboat back away from the side of the Defiance. As he reached for an oar, Morris threw down his helmet and dove into the swell. In moments the commander was swimming toward shore.