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He crouched beside Hurwood. "Wake up," he said urgently. "You'll never get better advice."
Hurwood's eyes opened. "I'm ... hurt," he said softly.
"Yes." Shandy brushed the tears out of his eyes to see the old man more clearly. "But you'll probably live. You survived it once. Where's Beth, Elizabeth, your daughter?"
"Oh ... it's all over, isn't it? All done now." His eyes met Shandy's. "You! You destroyed it ... Margaret's head ... I could feel her spirit go out of it. A mere sword!" His voice was gentle, as if he was discussing events in a play they'd both seen. "Not just because it was cold iron ... ?"
"And linked to my blood. Yes." Shandy tried to match Hurwood's quiet, conversational tone. "Where have you got your daughter hid?"
"Jamaica. In Spanish Town."
"Ah!" Shandy nodded and smiled. "Where in Spanish Town?"
"Nice house. She's restrained, of course. A prisoner. But in comfort."
"Whose house?"
"Uh ... Joshua Hicks." Hurwood seemed childishly proud of being able to remember the name.
Shandy's shoulders drooped with relief.
"Do you have any chocolates?" Hurwood asked politely. "I haven't any."
"Uh, no." Shandy stood up. "We can get you some in Jamaica."
"We're going to Jamaica?"
"You're damn right we are. As soon as we get this old hulk a little more seaworthy. We can afford to relax a little, now that I know where she is. Beth will keep for another day or two while we make some repairs."
"Oh, aye, Hicks will take very good care of her. I've given him the strictest instructions, and given him a nurse to make sure he does everything right."
A nurse? thought Shandy. I can't quite imagine a nurse ordering around a member of the landed gentry. "Well, fine. We'll - "
"In fact, what day is it today?"
"Christmas Eve." Can't you tell by everybody's festive manner? he thought.
"Maybe I should wave to him tomorrow."
Shandy, still smiling with relief, cocked his head. "Wave at who?"
"Hicks. He'll be on a cliff at Portland Point, tomorrow at dawn, with a telescope." Hurwood chuckled. "He doesn't like the idea - he's giving a big dinner party tomorrow night, and he'd far rather be home preparing for it - but he'll be there. He fears me. I told him to watch for this ship and make sure he sees me out on deck, and sees me wave to him."
"We won't be anywhere near Jamaica by tomorrow dawn," said Shandy. "I don't think this ship could be."
"Oh." Hurwood closed his eyes. "Then I won't wave to him."
Shandy had been about to leave, but now he paused, staring down at the old man. "Why were you going to wave to him? Why will he be out there watching?"
"I want to sleep now."
"Tell me." Shandy's eyes darted to, then away from, the lamp. "Or no chocolates."
Hurwood pursed his lips pettishly, but answered. "If I don't sail past and wave, he'll assume I'm not going to arrive in time, and so he'll do the first part of the magic. The part that has to be done on Christmas day. I meant to be in Jamaica today, to save him the trouble of even going out there, but the storm yesterday and you today ... " Hurwood opened his eyes, though not wide. "I just thought if we were going to be near there tomorrow, I'd wave to him and save everybody the trouble. After all, you've made the full procedure impossible by destroying the head." He closed his eyes again.
"What's this ... first part of the magic?" Shandy asked, feeling the first faint webs of anxiety falling over him again.
"The part that can be done on land. The big part, which I would have had to do, has to take place at sea. Tomorrow noon he'll do the first part. He'd rather I did it. He'll be unhappy not to see me sail past."
