His eyes watering, Merrick blinked under the brilliance of the sun. He had not been outside for a week, and as the Caribbean breeze caressed his face, he took a deep breath of it, smiling. The salty air carried the lure of freedom, but the irons clamped around his wrists spoke otherwise. He was being led, along with two other prisoners, through a formation of well-armed British soldiers toward a horse-drawn wagon.

To be hanged within the hour.

Regardless of his looming ...