Charlisse snatched the spyglass from Sloane. "Are you quite sure?"
"Aye, milady. I knows that knave's ship anywhereespecially after he near sunk us."
She peered through the glass. The Vanquisher sped swiftly through the Caribbean just off their starboard bow. "Thank you, Lord. You've brought me right to her." Charlisse lowered the glass and looked at Sloane.
Scratching his head, he pointed upward. "By thunder, He always answers yer prayers."
"Not always." Charlisse turned away, gulping down her sorrow.
"If ye be meanin' Merrick, methinks ye'll be seein' him 'afore long. It ain't over yet."
"'Tis over for me." Yet even as the harsh words flew from her mouth, she knew they sprang from her anger. Not her heart.
Spinning on her heels, she shouted aloft to unfurl the topsails and topgallants. "I want every rag of canvas stretched on the yards!"