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in observing the lights, but superstition had the upper hand, and everyone stayed indoors.”
    Henrietta smiled “I fancy an only too flesh-and-blood hand was sending those signals.”
    “Russell and I think the same. Distasteful as it is, we concede that someone in the neighborhood is either a French sympathizer or is simply prepared to help in return for payment.” Charlotte sighed. “It’s all so frustrating, because Uncle Joseph almost captured the Légère when he was in the Caribbean two years ago. Would that he had succeeded! I received a letter just before Christmas. He’s in the Mediterranean now, in command of a ship of the line.” Charlotte’s voice glowed with pride, for Rear Admiral Sir Joseph Harman was a brilliant naval officer.
    Suddenly Henrietta heard a faint rhythmic clunking, splashing sound from somewhere out on the water. For a moment she couldn’t think what it was, but then Charlotte heard too. “Do I hear oars?” she gasped.
    The two women glanced uneasily at each other, and then looked out at the bay again. Gradually they perceived a dark shape about a hundred yards off the harbor mouth. A two-masted sloop was being hauled in by two gigs, one behind the other, each crewed by about half a dozen men.
    Kit began to draw his sword in readiness. “Damn me, if I’m about to let Johnny Frog set foot on British soil!” he declared heroically.
    Jane put a hand on his sleeve. “I think you may put your sword away. If the Légère had to risk daylight because of the channel, she’s hardly likely to come in the dark!”
    Charlotte’s grip on Henrietta’s arm began to relax. “She’s much smaller than the Légère, and by her white masts I’d say she’s British.”
    Suddenly there was a burst of light as a rocket soared high into the sky. It was followed by another and another, brilliant flashes of red, orange, crimson, and blue that illuminated the hitherto inky night. Charlotte laughed incredulously. “Fireworks! We are being treated to a display of New Year fireworks !”More rockets flew skyward, and the ballroom emptied as the guests poured onto the terrace to see what was happening.
    The vessel was inched into the safety of the encircling sea walls, and all the time there were fireworks. Girandoles glittered, Chinese fire danced, tourbillions whirled, and pretty golden sparks cascaded like a molten cataract into the water. In the scintillating light, the sloop was revealed as an elegant craft with sumptuous gilding and highly polished brassware. Also visible was the proud Union Jack on her mainmast.
    There were exclamations of delight and much applause as everyone pushed forward to get the best view possible. Henrietta was forced against the balustrade, and her heart began to pound as she glanced over the black precipice. The lapping of the waves far below seemed suddenly louder, and her senses swam unpleasantly as she felt a strange urge to throw herself over the edge.
    If she had but known it, the urge was of Old Nick’s doing. Hell’s dark master was unable to resist the opportunity to destroy the ghosts’ plan, but as he concentrated still more, meaning to turn the urge into a compulsion, Henrietta found the strength to pull away from the balustrade. As she did so, someone gave her a harsh shove. She cried out as she lost her balance, and her fan fell into the yawning darkness below, but then two people caught her, Charlotte from the right, and a second or so later Amabel Renchester from the left. They ushered her, trembling and frightened, out of the crush toward a stone bench set against the wall of the abbey.
    Old Nick was livid. Henrietta had caught him off guard by resisting the urge he’d caused, and was in the act of stepping back from the edge at the very moment his agent acted. It was humiliating for hell’s master to know he had no one but himself to blame for the botch! Well, it was a salutary lesson; in future he wouldn’t intervene on impulse. His only