The Privateer (45 of 50, 100 word post)

He followed his brother, Frederick, through the darkening wood. Over the rustle and crunch of hidden feet, his heart beat large in his chest.
The sound of surf rose among the rising tide of the now grumbling crowd and the sky lightened. He pushed through a pair of bushes and stepped onto the beach, the sand blue in the general gloaming, red in the halos around the crackling fires. One hundred yards out to sea, a British revenue schooner had run aground and the people of Warvey, Rhode Island climbed into anything that floated and headed out, meaning them no good.