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rt of vengeful iron demon； Moore could understand why the islanders had feared it。
〃To us it was a thing from Hell； crewed by faceless； inhuman creatures of another world。 We wanted no part in that white man's war and yet it was forced upon us。 We were not to be spared。 The boat came again； and brought death until it was itself destroyed。〃
〃How？〃 Kip asked him； intrigued。 〃What destroyed it？〃
〃That I don't know。 But many nights I stood on this beach； perhaps in this exact spot； and watched the fires burning out at sea； the strange green and crimson ets streaking the black。 And each morning the debris washed in； parts of ships and men。 Frozen bodies with twisted； terror…struck faces； sometimes only a tide of blood or of arms and legs。〃 He drew in his breath。 〃That。。。 is the Night Boat； risen from its tomb at the bottom of the sea。〃
The men were silent。 Kip could hear the buoys clanging out past the reef； and their sharp metallic sound grated on his nerves。 The sea washed strands of clinging weed across the U…boat's deck； and made a rhuthummmm noise along the iron。 〃There's nothing for anyone to fear anymore；〃 Kip said。 〃It's a dead hunk of metal now。〃
Boniface turned slowly to face the constable。 〃Not dead。 Only waiting。 And I beg you as I have never begged any man on this earth。 Return it to the Abyss。〃
〃For God's sake！〃 Kip said； irritated by the man's persistence and more than a bit uneasy beneath his powerful gaze。 〃You've preached spirits and voodoo for so long you're seeing jumbies in a junkyard relic！〃
The reverend said nothing for a long while； looking from one man to the other； probing their belief and fear。 〃Dieu vous garde；〃 he said softly。 〃I have a body to attend to。〃 He turned from them and； picking his way with the tip of the cane； he moved away up the beach。 He stopped once more on higher ground to stare back at the submarine； and then he disappeared among the clapboard houses fringing Front Street。
Kip saw that Moore looked concerned。 〃Don't listen to him；〃 he said。 〃Superstition's bee his second nature。 But damn it all； I don't see how that bastard cleared the reef and got through into my harbor！〃
The trawlers were preparing to move out for the fishing grounds from the mercial wharfs across the beach。 Diesels rumbled； men shouted back and forth from boat to boat； and lines were cast off。 There would barely be room for them to swing past the obstruction of the submarine and out to sea。 The sun was rising now； a hot yellow orb in a sky that promised to be a clear azure blue。 A few moments before； the hulk had indeed looked dark and spectral； with the weeds entwining its deck and railings。 Now； in the clearer light； it simply appeared to be a battered； aged wreck。
〃Can you give me a lift back up to my office？〃 Kip asked； and when Moore nodded they began walking toward the pickup truck。 〃A hell of a mess；〃 Kip muttered。 〃The whole island probably knows about this by now； and if I judge Boniface correctly he'll use it as an opportunity to strengthen his hold on these people。 I've got to do something about that boat； David。 I can't let it rot here； but for the life of me I don't。。。〃 He stopped suddenly； his eye caught by the sun glinting brightly off the tin roof of the abandoned naval shelter off in the distance。 No； that would be one hell of a huge risk。 Then he asked himself： more risk than leaving it unattended on the sandbar？
The constable's office； a small stucco building painted a light green； was on the village square。 There was an oval park of palmettos in the center of the street； and the weather…etched granite statue of a black man hefting a harpoon that had been erected by the British as a peace concession to the Carib Indian tribe。 It honored one of the Carib chieftains…a man named Cheyne…who in the 1600s had led a rag…tag army against a band of pirates who were trying to seize Coquina as a fortress。 The Caribs had been here at least a hundred years before the first British settlers had arrived； they lived off the sea and the land； keeping to themselves unless feeling threatened； and then their wrath could be awesome。 It was clear that the Caribs were to be left alone； judging from the number of British settlers who were laid in their graves in those early years。 Now they were mostly quiet； and Moore didn't know much about their current way of life。 Across the Square were brightly painted buildings： Everybody's Grocers and Cafe； Langstree's marine supply store； an open…air market where the inland farmers displayed their goods on Saturdays； and the Coquina Hardware Store。 Dirt…track streets cut back through the jungle to more houses。 Beyond those； the foliage grew thick and wild。
Coquina was fifteen miles around； housing a population of a little more than seven hundred。 In centuries past it had served as a battleground between the British and the French； the island； along with a dozen other small spits of sand in the area； had been possessed first； in the early 1500s； by the Spanish； who had left it pretty much alone； then a hundred years later by the British； who'd fought the Caribs to make a go of sugar and tobacco plantations。 The French had attacked when the plantations had proven profitable。 And so on in a spiral of naval and diplomatic warfare； until finally the British seized it as a permanent possession。 Some of the old plantation great houses still stood in the deep jungle although now they were cracked mounds of rubble through which the vines and growth had reclaimed their own territory。 When Moore wandered these old plantation houses through the long corridors and empty； ghostly rooms； he thought sometimes he could feel how it must have been： the land barons gazing out over their sloping fields to the seas beyond； the schooners with billowing sails slipping across the ocean to take on new cargoes for mother England。 Coquina had been a good and inexpensive investment for the British； until the Caribs had rebelled and killed most of the plantation owners。
The island was so named because it was shaped like a coquina's shell； also because the beaches were filled with the little clamlike sand…diggers。 They were thrown up by the surge of the surf and then would rapidly scurry down again into the safety of the wet sand； their paths marked only by bursting bubbles of air。
And now； over two hundred years since the French and British had battled here； Coquina was home to David Moore。 Perhaps it would not be home forever； but for now it was good enough。
God； how the years have passed； he thought as he drove into the Square。 Rapidly flashing by in swirls of color； of experience； of memories he kept close to his chest like a deck of cards。 In the space of seven years； everything had changed and the changes had led him here。 His mind sheered away from the old vision： riotous gray waves； soaring whitecaps； a storm that had swept up without warning； thunderclouds torn from the sky above the Atlantic into Chesapeake Bay。 The ragged images tortured him； filled him with a sense of dull； throbbing rage and left him with the knowledge that at any given instant； the security and hope of a man's life could fall away like rotten flooring。
〃Yo