Moll stood back and laughed. "I wouldna believed it iffin I din't see it. Ye looks right lovely, ye do. Just like a gentleman." She admired him in his new outfit. Jack now sported a somber waistcoat over a slightly ruffled shirt, a pair of dark trousers and a stylish pair of shoes. His sailing garb had been changed for clothing more suited to a man of the Church of England.
"Precisely what I intended. Run along to the tavern. Keep a sharp eye on Barbossa. If he inquires as to my whereabouts advise him I shall be there by the appointed time… WITH the cross. And here.." Digging through his new outfit, he finally found his coins. He handed her another gold one. "See that he is plied with plenty of rum."
Before he left, Jack took care to pick up the letters on which he'd also spent considerable time during their sewing session. Tucking them into his coat, he left and headed through the streets of town until he found himself at the doors to the church.
Entering, he looked around. Several people were praying quietly near the front. A servant stood near a side door, and moving over to him, Jack bowed his head slightly. "I do believe that I am expected?" He removed the letters he had so carefully prepared and presented them to the servant.
"Un momento, señor." Taking the letters, the servant disappeared into the private area of the church. Jack took the time to look closely through the church itself to see if he could spy the item he was searching for. Not seeing it, he figured it was secured somewhere else within the church.
The servant reappeared, silently motioning Jack to follow him. They exited the church and headed back towards the private chambers of the priest. Knocking on a large wooden door, they waited until an invitation to enter was heard. Opening the door, the servant stood back to allow Jack to enter.
Slowly, Jack entered into the private rooms. Candles burned brightly, sending a warm glow through the room. It appeared empty until a sudden movement from the corner caught Jack's eye.
"Greetings Mister Smith. I was delighted to receive your note. I an eager to hear news of England." A man rose from a table where he had clearly been working on something, his English heavily accented. "Come over here, we shall sit here until Manuel brings our dinner," The priest gestured towards a comfortable seating area waiting for Jack to sit down.
Jack smiled politely and sat down. His eyes had briefly scanned the room, but afraid to look too curious, he waited for a better chance to inventory the place. "Thank you, I was happy to receive your generous invitation. I had only hoped for a simple opportunity to visit with you. Having been at sea for so long, the company and conversation of an intelligent person is always welcome. Your invitation to dine with you only adds to my delight," He found himself falling into the manners he'd used when dining with various dignitaries of the East India Company, something he had avoided as often as possible.
"I was unaware of any ships arriving recently so I must admit you caught me quite unprepared. I do hope we shan't disappoint," The priest smiled warmly. "I am Bartolomé de las Casas." He inclined his head politely. "From Spain. And your letter indicated you know Cutler Beckett?"
"Ah, yes of the East India Trading Company," Now he wondered why he had chosen that name of all names. "I have had some, ah, dealings with him in the past," At least that much was true.
"Yes, delightful gentleman, I had chance to meet him prior to being sent here. And I see you too are being posted to this region. Your note did not mention your destination," As he spoke a servant entered bearing a tray. "Some wine?" Without waiting, the servant had quickly poured wine into two elegant cut glass goblets. Handing one to Jack, Bartolomé accepted the second.
Jack smiled obligingly. This drink he considered superior to that rum he'd been offered the previous evening. Taking a sip, he savored the flavor of the fine wine. "Yes, I am heading for Tortuga."
"Tortuga? Surely you jest! I cannot believe the Church of England would waste any hope for that town," A shocked expression crossed the priest's face.
"No, I misspoke. That is our next destination. For me, I am bound for Port Royal," He grasped the name of the first English settlement he could think of.
"Ah, Port Royal. Much more civilized. I suggest when you arrive in Tortuga you remain on the ship. Not a place for the faint of heart. Filled with all manner of evil people. Perhaps one day we shall be able to attempt to tame the savage hearts that reside there. Now, have you any word as to who is to replace the current governor of Port Royal? I hear the current one is retiring and is planning to return to England within the next few months."
"Excellent advice that I shall assuredly heed. As to a new governor, when I departed nothing new had been said," Jack replied. He thought rapidly for some stories to tell of England realizing that anything he told would be months old, but for this man, stuck in the Caribbean, it was all probably new and exciting. As they were conversing, the servant came in to advise that dinner was ready. The two men repaired to the dining room to continue the discussion.
As the meal concluded, so did the extent of Jack's pool of stories from England. He rose gracefully to take his leave. "I must thank you for such a wonderful repast and excellent conversation."
Sated from both the meal and the information Jack had provided, Bartoloméwas struck with a thought. "Where are you staying whilst here?"
"I am really not certain the name of the place, some inn…," Jack waved his hand vaguely. "It was arranged for me last night. A bit noisome, but pleasant to sleep upon land for a change."
"An inn?" A shocked look crossed Bartolomé. "There are none worth the price of any coin for a gentleman such as yourself. I cannot have you staying in one of our inns. You must stay here, I insist!"
Jack was hard pressed to hold in his excitement. This would be the perfect way in which to search for the cross! "I would be delighted."
"Come, come," Leading out of the dining room, Bartolomé pulled a bell rope. "Manuel!" The servant arrived instantly. " Prepare a room for Mister Smith at once," Turning to Jack he added. "I shall give you a tour of our humble church while he prepares a room for you."
"That is too kind of you," Jack replied, barely keeping his excitement in check. Now perhaps he would find where this treasure he sought was kept.
They wandered through the church as Bartolomé pointed out one feature after another. Jack was hard pressed to feign interest but somehow managed. As they entered each room he searched quickly for the cross, but once he was sure it was not there he smiled politely and made what he hoped were appropriate comments. It was obvious that Bartolomé was proud of his assignment.
They finally returned to the private rooms allotted to the priest. "Ah, my study. If you need to find me in the morning, I am certain to be in here."
Opening a door, Bartolomé stood back to allow Jack to precede him into the room. Jack entered and his eyes went straight to the small mantle where a cross was displayed.
"I see the cross intrigues you," Bartolomé noted Jack's interest.
"I had, uh, heard some talk last evening about the cross," he said, hoping that would sound plausible. Jack waited for his masquerade to be uncovered. He thought he had been too obvious after all.
"Yes, it is. Saint Sebastian is the patron saint of our fine village. He is also known to protect us from the Black Death. We have been fortunate in not having a single outbreak here in our tiny corner of the world. For that we give thanks to him. We have a special festival this weekend to honor him, perhaps if you are still here you might wish to participate?"
"That would be splendid. I shall check with our captain as to our departure date. I look forward to participating, if I am still here that is." Jack smiled, hoping he still sounded interested. Right now all he wanted to do was grab the cross and leave.
When the cross was finally identified, he grinned inwardly. His disguise had not been discovered and he had found where the cross was kept. It was in a study, in full view. This would be simple, all he had to do was wait until all were asleep, sneak down here and make off with the cross.
Until then, he would need to continue with this façade of interest and small talk. All a part of his past he had detested. Right now all he wanted was to be at sea on the deck of his ship.
Mercifully, Manual appeared announcing that the room was ready. Jack followed him up a set of stairs, taking care to remember his path so he could retrace it later. Settled into his room, he looked out the windows towards the harbor. His gaze fell at once to his ship, resting quietly in the water. "Soon…" he thought.