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Under the Jolly Roger Page 39
Author: L.A. Meyer

His smile deepens. "I have a feeling we will be seeing more of you in the future, Miss Faber. Good day to you, now. It has been a pleasure."

I delivered the spy papers the next day and received my Letter of Marque and a letter signed by the First Lord that the prize money for the Wolverines would be paid and paid quickly. I examined the Letter of Marque and it looks genuine—and why shouldn't it be? They figure I'll never be able to use it 'cause I don't have a ship and ain't likely to get one, neither, so why not give it to me? Just humor the silly girl, is all.

I dispatched my own letter to Robin on board the Wolverine that all was set regarding the prize money and took a coach back to the ship and was greeted by a blur of pink cotton.

"Mistress! Oh, Mistress Mary, I thought I'd never see you again!" wails Judy, throwing her arms about my neck. I see Higgins behind her, holding my old seabag and the fiddle case that holds the Lady Lenore. I am very glad to see all of them.

"I found out from the Fletchers' butler where she was, Miss, and went to fetch her," explains Higgins.

"Thank you, Higgins. Now, Judy, dry your eyes. You can see I have a way of popping back up. Let us have a bit of lunch and you can tell me all that has happened to you."

We go down into my cabin, my lovely cabin, which sparkles and gleams under Higgins's care, and have a fine reunion.

I am told that the kind gentleman, Mr. James, Mr. James Fletcher, that is, and oh, Miss, what a kind gentleman he is! had gotten her and Hattie a fine post caring for a dear sweet old rich lady and Judy herself would have been most happy if it weren't that she was so worried about her Mistress being gone and she would have spoken more of Mr. Fletcher, saying, "You should give him one more chance, Miss, he seems so ... " but I forbade her to speak his name and she obeyed me, even though she didn't want to.

I tell her some of what has happened to me and about the Emerald and all and it's decided that she should stay in Lady Chumbley's service till the dear old woman goes off to her reward and then Judy would join me again. It's best that we get things settled with the Emerald first, as there is a lot to do on that score—it's going to be hard enough getting a crew with one woman aboard, let alone two.

I had given the Admiralty the packet of information on the spy network, but I did not give them the information on the smuggling operation, figuring why get a lot of people in trouble over a little under-the-table importing? Especially Mr. Hiram Fletcher, Jai—his father, that is. I mean, it's one thing to steal a man's wine, quite another to get him slapped in jail. Or worse.

And, of course, I didn't tell the First Lord about the Emerald. It's such a small thing, considering everything else he has on his mind. Who's gonna miss a little ship like her in this great big war?

I've cast about, trying to hire a crew for my ship, but I've met with no luck—even men in the worst of circumstances, men desperate for work and money for their families, will not serve under a woman, much less a girl who still doesn't look much more than fourteen.

I know that men will not follow what they call a "petticoat captain" and so I will have to find a Captain for the Emerald. It irks me, but what can I do?

I am standing on the unmanned deck of my ship, pondering the problem, when who should I see but my future Captain come running down the street, looking over his shoulder in fear that something might be following him. He is dressed in tights, jerkin, and doublet, and he ducks by the side of a building, peers out when he sees no one coming, and then makes a dash for my gangway and storms up the ramp and jumps aboard.

"Ozgood," I say. "What now...?"

"No time for that, Miss," he says, and dives down the center hatchway. "You ain't seen me now, mind?"

I stand there in astonishment for a moment and then a mob comes round the corner at the head of the street. They are dressed in a motley fashion—some in modern dress and some in tights and doublets—and all shouting and waving swords and clubs. One, who is dressed as a king, has a scepter ... and is that a two-handed broadsword?...a battle-ax? There are several women, too, each seemingly as outraged as the men. One, in a costume I take to be that of Ophelia, is very much with child.

They stop and look about, and, not seeing the object of their hunt, they see me.

"You there! Girl! Did you see a man running by here—big, with black hair?"

I put on the waif look. "Oh, Lord, yes, Sir, and 'e scared me most terrible and so I scampers up here so as to get away from 'im! He run down that street there, Sir!" and I point down a street that I know goes a long way.

The crowd roars and heads off in the direction of my point.

When all is quiet, I go below to see Ozgood. I find him hiding behind a cask in the main hold. "Now, Miss, it ain't as bad as it looks, y'see..."

"Don't bother, Captain Daniel Ozgood, Master of the Ocean Sea," I say, smiling down at him. "Higgins! To me!"

"You do not have to be a Captain, you only have to act like a Captain, something I am sure you will be very good at. Treat it as a part, a part for which you will be paid. I will be by your side at all times and I will tell you what to say and do."

My bold sea Captain looks dubious, but he gets into the mariner's uniform that Higgins had gone and got. Black pants, big black boots turned down on top, and a black jacket with two rows of gold buttons and a high, stiff collar. Two thick belts cross his chest and another goes around his waist. It is all topped off with a black cap that has a shiny leather brim. The more Ozgood gets into the gear, the more he gets into the part. When all is done, he puts hands on hips, throws back his head, and roars, "Avast there, me hearties! Splice the main brace! Arrrrr..."

He will do just fine. If we can just shut him up.

Last night I did a performance at a local tavern, The Full Fathom Five, just to get my hand back in. Higgins didn't want me to do it, but I told him just how many times I had done just such a thing, and so he relented but insisted on coming along, so the crowd was treated to the spectacle of a small female performer attended by a large gentleman's gentleman in full fig. It went well, considering that I'm a bit out of practice, and it was wonderful to have the Lady Lenore back under my chin, and my dear pennywhistle back on my lip, and my feet tapping out the steps. I put out the word then, during breaks, about the Emerald's taking on hands, assuring the sailors that we would have music and good times as well as hard labor on that fine ship.

When we did the actual hiring, Ozgood glowered at them and I listened to what they had to say in the way of their character and experience. I sat off to the side, the good Captain's daughter who would be along on this trip, doing a bit of sewing, like a good girl. If I scratched my right eyebrow, the man was hired. If I touched my nose with my knuckle, not.

Soon we had our crew, and two days later, thanks to Captain Scroggs's stash of gold, we were supplied, victualed, and off on the tide.

Because of foul and contrary winds, it took us three full days to get across St. George's Channel and to the Irish port city of Waterford, during which time the crew figured out Ozgood for the fraud he was. When we got there, the entire lot of them left in a manly huff—Serve under a bleedin' female, I'll be damned, I will ... What kind o' fool did she think we was, what with 'er telling the big lout what orders to give like we couldn't see it?—but that's all right. Getting the ship here was all I really wanted them to do.

I paid off Ozgood and reclaimed the captain's gear I had bought him back in England. I also gave him a letter of recommendation to Messrs. Fennel and Bean should he ever get to the States and need employment.

"Thank you, Miss," he said as he went happily off toward Dublin with his money jingling in the purse that hung about the waist of his Hamlet costume. "That was the easiest role I ever played and the easiest money I ever made! Good-bye, Captain, and good luck to you!"

Good luck to you, too, Ozgood, you merry fool, for I enjoyed your company greatly.

So I have a ship with no crew, no captain—and with no captain, I know I shall find no crew. But I do think I know where to find a captain. And a fine captain at that.

A clap of thunder brings me back to where I am now, which is in the rain, on the back of a cantankerous nag, and I'm aching with a sore bottom from three hours in the saddle. According to my directions, though, I am approaching my destination. There's the bridge over the small river, a large bend in the road, a stretch of moor, then a hill and then ... a small cottage, low, with a thatched roof and a dim light glowing in the window.

I rein in the horse and he stands there puffing and blowing. I believe I see a face at the window as I dismount and tie the reins to a pump handle. I reach up and unbuckle the saddlebags and slide them off the horse's rump and go to the door. With water dripping off the end of my nose, I knock.

The door is opened a crack and a pair of very suspicious eyes peer out.

"Yes. What do you want?"

"Your pardon, Ma'am, but my name is Jacky Faber and I was told that I might find Liam Delaney here."

Chapter 25

James Fletcher, Midshipman

HMS Wolverine

On Station off the Coast of France

November 3, 1804

Miss Jacky Faber

Somewhere in the world, yet again

Dearest Jacky,

Well, at least I got a glance at you for a moment. Not that it settled my mind in the slightest. I still think about that encounter—when you would not meet my eye, when you left the ship without even speaking to me, and when, just before that, you kissed that damned midshipman and let him put his foul hand on your ... I can't allow myself to think of it ... let alone to write of it.

I will, however, write of what happened on the Wolverine after you took yourself off, should you read this at some future time and find it interesting.

Commodore Shawcross departed, soon after you left, with his booty, which included a good deal of Fletcher wine, I noticed. I know you thought that would hurt me, but it didn't, Jacky, not really. I don't care about that sort of thing—money and all. Ah, but the other things you did, and said, though, that did hurt me. If that was what you wanted, you certainly succeeded.

When you left, you might have thought that I was calm and collected on the deck of the Wolverine, but, oh no, far from it, as your Bloody Mister Midshipman Bloody Robin Bloody Raeburne soon found out.

After the Commodore was gone, Captain Trumbull wasted no time in bringing the Wolverine back under real Royal Navy discipline. Those men you had made warrant officers were examined and interrogated as to exactly why they agreed to be led by a girl.

The first of them, the stolid Harkness, stumbled around a bit and came up with, "Well, Sir, the way she explained it, it seemed so ... reasonable ... like."

And then the man Drake said, "It was a gradual thing, Sir. First Captain Scroggs made her a lieutenant, then the Captain got sick and the men got used to taking orders from her. And when we found the Captain was dead, why, she was still a lieutenant, so ... mutiny is mutiny, Sir, how could we have done any different?" He said this with a helpless shrug. Clever, he is. You chose well in your officers, Jacky.

And lastly, there was Jared. Now, there's a proud one—when Captain Trumbull addressed him with "What's your name?" this Jared started unbuttoning his Master's jacket and said, "Joseph Jared, Sir. Seaman. Rated Able. Captain of the Top" as if to deprive the Captain of the satisfaction of demoting him to his former rank. When asked why he agreed to follow you, he paused as if collecting his thoughts and then said, "Why did I follow her? If you must know, Sir, it was easy. Pound for pound, Puss-in-Boots was the best commander I ever served under."

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L.A. Meyer's Novels
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