The Daredevil Snared (The Adventurers Quartet Book 3) by Stephanie Laurens Read Free Book Online Page B

Babington leave the wharf, then turned with a snort.
    His first mate halted beside him. “So what was that about? Anything we need to be concerned over?”
    The captain hesitated, then said, “Babington made out it was just routine, but I’m not sure I buy that, not with himself being here to watch.”
    The mate rocked on his heels. “Do you think they know?”
    “Nope. If they did, we’d be in more trouble.” The captain glanced around, but there appeared to be no one watching them. “Not that hard to send a cutter to keep an eye on us, but I doubt they will. Keep an eye peeled, just in case.”
    “Aye, aye.” The first mate debated, then asked, “So we’re still going for the pickup?”
    “We most certainly are. We’ll take her out and across to the north shore. Give it a few hours for the tide to swing, and to make certain no one’s got their eye on us, then we’ll head down the estuary.”
    The first mate nodded and pulled on his long nose. “Always wondered why they set it up for us to pick up the goods on our way out, given we have to turn to do it.” The mate grinned. “Guess I understand now.”
    The captain grunted and headed for his wheel.
    Minutes later, The Dutch Princess eased from her moorings and sailed out of Freetown harbor.

CHAPTER 3
    Caleb paused to pull the neckerchief from about his throat and wipe the sweat from his brow. This was the second day of their trek along the path leading—originally, at least—north from Kale’s camp. They’d followed the well-trodden path more or less north for most of yesterday, but in the last hours before they’d halted for the night, the track had veered to the east.
    Today, the path had started to climb while angling more definitely eastward. And they’d started to come upon crude traps. Phillipe had been in the lead when they’d approached the first; he’d spotted it—a simple pit—and they’d tramped around it without disturbing the concealing covering. From then on, they’d kept their eyes peeled and found three more traps, all of varying design, clearly intended to discourage the unwary, but it had been easy enough to avoid each one.
    If they’d needed further confirmation that they were on the correct path, the traps had provided it. But there hadn’t been another for several miles.
    Caleb glanced around and saw nothing but more jungle. His internal clock informed him it was nearing noon. He couldn’t see the sky; the damned canopy was too thick. Accustomed to the wide expanses of the open sea, he was getting distinctly tired of the closeness of the jungle and the dearth of light. And the lack of crisp fresh air.
    Phillipe had been walking with Reynaud in the rear; he came forward to halt beside Caleb. “Time to take a break.” Phillipe pointed through the trees. “There’s a clearing over there.”
    Caleb fell in behind his friend, and their men fell in behind him. They trudged ten yards farther along; the track remained well marked by the tramp of many feet. The clearing Phillipe had noted opened to the left of the path. Their company shuffled into it. After divesting themselves of seabags, packs, and weapons, they sprawled on the leaves or sat on fallen logs, stretching out their legs before hauling out water skins and drinking.
    Luckily, water was one necessity the jungle provided in abundance. They’d also found edible fruits and nuts and carried enough dried meat in their packs to last for more than a week. If not for the stifling atmosphere, the trek would have been pleasant enough.
    Phillipe lowered himself to sit beside Caleb on a fallen log. With a tip of his head, he indicated the jungle on the other side of the path. “We’ve been angling along the side of these foothills for the last hour. The path’s still climbing. I’ve been thinking that, following the inestimable Miss Hopkins’s reasoning, the mine can’t be much farther. The children who were taken—certainly the younger ones—would be dragging their