"When?" Charlisse demanded. "When are they going to hang him?"

"Don't rightly know, miss," Sloane spat between breaths. "More 'n likely not till next Friday. Friday's be hangin' days here in Port Royal."

"Who arrested him?" the reverend asked.

"The gov'nor. Chained an' taken away by a band o' British troops not an hour ago."

The reverend peered into the darkness before shutting the door. "Have a seat, Mr. Sloane." He gestured toward a chair. "Let's calm ...