The Flame and the Flower Read Online Free PDF

further, yet the echo of the stentorian voice fanned the flames of terror until they seared her very soul. Her body shook and had she not been kneeling she would have fallen. Her head slumped and for a long time she sat not even thinking, then at last she looked up and a thought came to her.
     
    " I must get away from here ."
     
    It was as simple as that. She must escape. She musn't be here when they found William's body. She must flee.
     
    Still gripped in panic, she forced herself to search his pockets for the key. She trembled, but it had to be done. Her own fear now fed her strength.
     
    She wrapped her own clothes in a scarf she found and clutching it to her, hurried to the door. She paused there for a moment without opening it, picturing the scene behind her. Again fear gripped her. She flung open the door and began to run as fast as her legs could carry her, through the parlor, the hall doorway, down the stairs, and toward the curtained doorway to the shop. As she put out her hand to fling open the draperies her panic increased. Someone was there behind the curtain. Her already fast pace was quickened by sheer terror. Someone was after her. She ran swiftly, not daring to turn, her heart pounding hard in her bosom.
     
    She tore down the street, fearful of glancing back. She had no idea where she was going. Perhaps if she lost herself she could lose whoever was behind her. But why couldn't she hear anyone running after her? Was her own heart beating so loudly in her ears that she could hear nothing else?
     
    Through the streets of London she raced, past shops of business, past great houses that loomed large and menacing in the darkness, past houses of lesser importance. She did not pay any attention to the people who stopped and stared after her.
     
    Soon she was exhausted, and in spite of her fear she stopped to lean against a rough-hewn stone wall. Her lungs burned with the effort of each breath she sobbed. Gradually she became aware of the tang of salt in her nostrils and the fetid smell of the waterfront. She raised her head and opened her eyes. Dense fog lay close upon the cobblestone street and the darkness pressed in until she could hardly breathe. A torch burned on a distant corner and she sought its light and could not bring herself to leave the small circle and go again into the dense black-grey night that surrounded her. Had she the courage, she knew not which way to flee. There was no hint of direction. She could hear the slow lap of water against the pier and the measured creaking of masts and an occasional muffled voice, but the sounds came to her from all around and she could see no spark of light anywhere.
     
    "There she be, by Jove! That's the one! That's her! Come on, George. Let's get her."
     
    Heather started and whirled about and saw what appeared to be two seamen coming toward her. They knew about her and were coming for her. They were the ones who had been following her. For some reason she had thought it was Mr. Hint. Her legs could not move. She could not flee. She had to wait there for them to take her.
     
    "Hello, miss," the older one said and smiled at his companion. "'Tis sure the cap'n will like 'er, eh Dickie?"
     
    The other one passed his tongue over his lips and lowered his gaze to Heather's bosom. "Aye. This one will suit him fine."
     
    Heather trembled under the scrutiny of the men, but from the present time on she knew she would have no liberties. The only thing left her was to be brave.
     
    "Where are you taking me?" she managed.
     
    Dickie laughed and punched the other in the ribs. "Kind o' receptive, ain't she? He'll like her all right. Makes me wish I was him an' could afford such."
     
    "Just a little ways, miss," the older one replied. "On board the merchant ship, Fleetwood . Come on."
     
    She followed the man and the younger fell in behind, giving her no chance to escape. She wondered why they must take her on board a ship. There must be a portreeve there. It