CHAPTER 34 “Five minutes to decide.”
“Inextricably bound?” Lieutenant Goble’s pistol pointed at Renato’s nose. “I’m afraid you must explain yourself, sir!”
By the time he’d finished speaking, LaChaise and Moring had slipped their bonds and risen with drawn pistols.
Captain Bentley barked, “You men will drop your weapons immediately, or we shall open fire.”
“Fire away, damn you.” Renato’s Yankee accent was gone. “Your own men will be among the first to die.”
Bentley hesitated.
Renato did not. “Mr. Faraday, you may bring the other prisoners on deck.”
A sailor emerged from the hatch—the white-haired man Goble had called Britt. Behind him, pistol in hand, came Faraday. Britt moved with difficulty, a crimson stain decorating the leg of his uniform. Paschelke followed, the blade of a scar
