Play@YSDC

The tender ministrations of Miss Winters fail to restore life to the fallen man, whose wounds prove mortal indeed.

The frenzied swordplay of the two opponents continues apace.
His rage enflamed by the demise of his comrade, the sailor slashes at his enemy's sword-arm, nearly severing it in his bloodlust. The wrecker and his weapon collapse to the deck, no longer a threat. Casting his own cutlass aside, as if it will never again serve such a purpose, the sailor rushes to the aid of the passengers.

"The ship is sinking. There is not much time to reach the shore. Can you swim?"

"Possibly," says Victoria, "but I'd better grab some driftwood just in case. That was very well fought."

"Someone strong will need to carry young MIss Collins," he says. "We should all grab pieces of wood to help us get ashore."

This wise strategy being employed, all aboard are able to reach the shore, albeit in an exhausted and thoroughly drenched state. The hand of Hypnos descends upon all, the weakness of the flesh being eternally subject to his command.

Upon awakening, in a dawn that proves to be, most fortunately, a clear one, free from the ravages of wind and rain, the survivors find themselves upon a rocky point of land, without indication of in which direction Portland might lie, the region seeming to be a deserted one, and the wreckers fled to points unknown. The sailors argue amongst themselves as to what action to take, whilst Sarah and Barnabas Collins cling to each other, gazing upon the ruins of the Lark.

"We can find Portland by following the coastline," says Reverend Trask, "though we must first find out in which direction to follow it. Perhaps if we could find some high ground, we could get a view of our surroundings."

"We're going to need some food and water," says Victoria. "I can help figure out which fruits and berries are safe to eat."

Whilst Miss Winters and the more land-wise sailors secure sustainment from the wilderness, as if they were the aboriginal inhabitants of the region, Reverend Trask is able to mount a point somewhat more elevated than elsewhere, upon which rise the village of Portland may be seen to the west. Indeed, from such position he is able to discover that Barnabas Collins, seemingly much recovered from his ordeal at sea, is already heading in that direction at a considerable pace, his young sister in his arms, embracing him in such a way as to suggest that she is an accomplice in this escape.

"I've found the way to Portland," says Reverend Trask, pointing in the right direction. "The Collinses have already started that way and are ahead of us, Barnabas carrying his sister, so we should follow them quickly."

"Yes, let's go," says Victoria. "I do hope Sarah is all right. At least if he's carrying her, that'll slow him down and let us catch up to them."

Despite the extra burden of carrying the child, Barnabas proves to be as sure-footed upon the rough ground as any mountain goat. The same cannot be said for the other survivors of the wreck of the Lark, doubtless due to their exhausted condition; Miss Winters and Reverend Trask stumble here and there, until the Collins are lost to sight. (The surviving sailors, solicitous of the condition of their passengers, have kept pace with the lady and the clergyman, at the cost of allowing the siblings to escape from view.) After no small amount of time on foot, the modest structures making up the village of Portland come into view, promising relief from a serious ordeal, if also offering many hiding places for the absconding brother and sister.

"We must make inquiries in Portland," says Reverend Trask. "Surely someone will have seen them."

"They'll also need food and water," says Victoria. "They'll have to get them somewhere."

Making inquiry of the various persons about the place, these generally being of the laboring class, it is ascertained that the fugitives made their way into the twisting warrens of the most densely situated part of the village, that being lodgings catering to those with limited means of support.

Meanwhile, the sailors attempt to trade the sweat of their brows for sustenance and passage on some vessel bound for another port. This proves difficult, for, as they soon discover, the selfsame unnatural appearance of Saint Elmo's Fire upon the masts of the ships in the harbor as was witnessed in Collinsport has just now been seen in Portland.

"It appears that the phenomenon has followed us here," says Reverend Trask. "I wonder if it has left Collinsport."

"Let's go find Barnabas and Sarah first," says Victoria. "We know which part of the village they're in, and we'll need lodging ourselves."

There are two establishments known to accommodate vagrants in this less than respectable part of Portland, both of them associated with taverns offering gin of poor quality to those dependent upon spirits to escape their sorrows. Both are frequented by persons of low reputation, whether penniless innocents or hard criminals. In ironic contrast to their condition, they bear names of high dignity, one known as the General Washington and the other the Archangel. In either place, the presence of a lady (other than one of an ancient profession) or a clergyman (save one who has fallen far into sin) would draw much attention.

"We could recruit some of the sailors to enter these...establishments on our behalf and find the Collinses," suggests Victoria. "They would fit right in there, and they are looking for work."

"A sensible idea," says Reverend Trask. "I do worry that they will spend the payment on the sinful activities those places provide, but I suppose if they intend to sin, they will not let a lack of funds stop them."

Being persuaded to inquire at the two establishments, primarily out of concern for the innocent and comely young lady making such plea, the seamen make their way into the said places, three to the General Washington and four to the Archangel.
Two of the better-spoken sailors are able to elicit information from the master of the General Washington while the third displays more interest in the seductive power of gin. To wit, it seems that the extraordinary sight of a man and a girl-child in such place did not go unnoticed. Having procured victuals for themselves, in exchange for hard cash, the pair then removed themselves from the premises, bound for parts unknown.

Meanwhile, although the keeper of the Archangel was ignorant about the Collins siblings, the behavior of one of the sailors therein, apparently involving the affections of an unescorted lady, led to an altercation, currently evident to the human ear, by the sounds of shouted oaths, shattered glass, and falling bodies.

"The Collinses will no doubt be heading for Boston," says Victoria. "Sarah expressed an unusual interest in it during her lessons, and the Lark was supposed to go there. But first we must deal with this fight. Let us bring the other sailors with us for protection. You may be able to defuse the argument with your silver tongue, and I can treat anyone who has been injured."