"Why did you wish to leave?" I ask.
"I do not like the present government of my country. My family was aristocratic and we lost many of our members to the guillotine ... to the mob. We haven't forgotten. And with Bonaparte's latest outrages ... we had to go."
"And where were you going? Surely you wouldn't stay in Britain?"
"No. Only to book passage. Then on to America to make a new life."
It strikes me then that I, so lately a girl of the streets, a mere beggar, really, could right now bring down this man and his whole family, they who have been parading around as high-and-mighty lords and ladies for a thousand years or so, and bring them down, right down to the ground. It is a mighty temptation.
But I sigh and say, "You have great good luck, Monsieur de Mont Blanc. We are honest privateers and take only the cargoes and ships of enemy countries. We do not rob passengers or crew of their personal belongings. You may gather up your jewels and return in the lifeboat to France. Good luck to you and your family."
I see Liam stiffen at this. Steady, Liam, and see how this plays out. I know how you feel about aristocrats and such, but maybe we can have our cake and eat it, too. Maybe we can hold to our honorable vow, and yet prosper... I don't take my eyes off the Marquis de Mont Blanc.
He looks at his hands. "There is a problem with that. Were I to go back now, I would not be received ... well, with kindness."
Ah, I thinks. It's either me or the guillotine, eh, Monsieur? And what kind of choice is that?
I smile and say, "You would book passage with us, then? Ah, well ... Higgins ... please ... hand me my shiv." Higgins's hand, bearing my knife, appears in my vision. The Marquis stiffens when he sees me take it, but, don't worry, Sir, the blade is not for you.
I use the knife to separate the jewels into two equal piles. Then I make sure that there are equal amounts of rubies, diamonds, and emeralds on each side. I hum a little tune as I do this. Could it be "La Marseillaise" I'm humming? Allons enfants de la patrie-eeeeeeee ... I don't know ... The biggest emerald of the lot I do not include in either pile—that I put separate, close to my chin. I point with my shiv to the pile on the left.
"You shall keep those jewels, Monsieur, and I wish you and your family the joy of them. There is surely enough there to get you a fresh start in America. Your sort always rises back to the top, anyway, eh?"
He doesn't say anything.
"And this pile here," I say, gesturing to the jewels on the right, "will pay for your passage. We will get you safely to Harwich and we will provide you an escort to take you to the bosom of your family. Your escort will be strong and well-armed, I assure you—there are many thieves abroad in this world, Monsieur, as I am sure you know."
He looks at me steadily. "That is surely the most expensive fare ever paid for crossing the Channel," he finally says, but he doesn't look quite so hopeless now.
"That may be so, but I believe it is your best option. Besides, it is not only a fare you are getting, but also our kind protection. And if you decide to go to Boston in America, I can even give you a letter of introduction to le Comte de Lise, a very high-placed Frenchman there. I went to school with his darling daughter. It will give you a leg up in Society."
I wait a bit for him to juggle the odds and then I say, "Agreed?"
He gives a shrug and says, simply, "Oui."
"Good. Then, as my honored passenger, you shall join me for dinner tonight, and you will find that I set a fine table," I say, bestowing on him my best grin. "But, wait ... there is one more thing..."
His eyelids droop and he looks warily at me, waiting for the ax to drop. I continue.
"The ship you hired to spirit you away from France did fire on me and did hurt me sorely. For my pain and suffering I will take this emerald for myself and my poor bottom ... or how would you have it?...mon derrière faible? Till this evening then, Monsieur, I bid you adieu. "
Three days later and we are back in Harwich with our hard-won prize.
Chapter 32
"You went to school with the daughter of a French count?"
"Try not to seem so surprised, Higgins. Am I really all that crude that you cannot believe that I went to any school at all?" He's got my head down in a basin washing my hair and so has me at a disadvantage, as I have to be careful not to snort in any of the suds. We are back once again in Harwich, so as to sell the prize and get Monsieur de Mont Blanc off.
"No, Miss, you are the very soul of elegance and refinement and I am sorry, as I did not mean to offend."
"Hmmph. I bet you didn't." I sniff. "Well, yes, actually, I did. It was the Lawson Peabody School for Young Girls in Boston. Not much of what they tried to teach me took, but some did. Would you like to hear of my adventures in America?"
"Yes, I would, actually. I had wondered about it but did not intend to pry."
"All right, then. I will tell you of it at dinner, but only if you sit down and eat with me this once, as it's a long story."
***
We had hired out horses and got Monsieur de Mont Blanc delivered to his family all safe and sound, if a bit lighter in the purse. He is not going to Boston but instead to New Orleans, where they've got a bunch of French people, which is just as well, as my letter of introduction to Lissette's folks would have gotten him tossed right out into the street. What? A letter from the des-pis-ed Jac-Kee Fay-Bear! Non! Now, Mademoiselle Claudelle de Bourbon does live in New Orleans, but I really don't think that she and the Marquis would travel in quite the same circles ... Never can tell, though—not with men, you can't.
The Marquis turned out to be good company after all, and we had a merry time at our dinners. He had a good baritone singing voice and I learned two good French songs from him—"Plaisir d'Amour" and "Jolie Blonde"—lovely songs, and I'm sure they'll come in handy someday. The man was not cheerful over his loss, but now he didn't have to worry about running the blockade anymore, and I'm sure that put his mind at ease.
We came back into Harwich port with our second prize in tow, and again we sailed under the grim and threatening guns of Shotley Gate. The first time we came into this port, Liam had looked up at the guns and said, "I'd hate to try to get out of this harbor without their permission," and left it at that. This time Liam gave me some sobering instruction in gunnery. He gazes at them looming above us as he says, "They are forty-two-pound carronades—cannons designed to crush at short range, and short range they got. The channel is only about one hundred yards wide here and a ship has no choice but to go right by these brutes at point-blank range. Their gunners would not even have to aim the guns—just wait till the ship pulled into their sights and wham! There goes your bow, then the second gun caves in your midsection, and the first one after being reloaded gets your after section—that's if you're still afloat, which would be very doubtful."
I look at the bunker and have to agree. We couldn't even shoot at the gun crews with muskets because the guns are housed in a big stone building with only the muzzles sticking out.
It is something to remember.
Higgins got to work and had the prize, the St. Moritz, and her cargo sold right quick—I swear the merchants were standing on the Point when we entered the harbor, just rubbing their hands in anticipation of profit—and after that was done and the money was in hand, we held an accounting with the men. I had decided, and Liam had agreed, that we should go back to Waterford to repair our ship and to let the men see their families and spend their money. At least in Waterford we could tie up at the quay and not have to take boats back and forth from our dear old Emerald.
We called them to gather about the quarterdeck and they knew what we were about, make no mistake about that, and their high spirits could scarcely be contained. I may have to have that Arthur McBride flogged at some time. It was too much to hope that this crew would line up in ranks like a disciplined King's ship, but Liam and Reilly managed to get them in some sort of order and settled down. Higgins sat at a table set at the foot of the mainmast and fussed with a ledger in front of him as he got ready to read from it. I, being in port and being good as regards my attire, am dressed in my riding habit with skirt, and I stood behind him.
The ship's company knew when they signed on that the shares of the money would be divided thusly:
50 shares for me and the Emerald—after all, I have to pay for all the food, the powder and shot, and all the other supplies, and the refitting and repair. And, it's my ship.
10 shares for Liam Delaney, Master and Commander.
5 shares for John Reilly, First Mate.
1 share each for 35 men.
"I am pleased to announce that the privateer Emerald has taken two prizes, and the total amount realized from the sale of those prizes and their cargoes is such that each share is worth ninety-one pounds."
There is a sudden silence. Ninety-one pounds! For a six-week cruise! Ninety-one pounds is what they could only hope to make in three years at any job they could find in Ireland! Every man aboard is now a confirmed privateer, if not an outright pirate.
There is a great cheer from the men and I step forward to address them.
"You have been a fine crew and you deserve every cent of what you got. I only hope you spend it wisely."
Arthur McBride comes forward and drops to his knees before me. "I love you, Jacky Faber! Marry me and you shall have all of my riches!"
"Get up, you fool, for we all know you shall never have me at all, nor your riches for very long!"
Another laugh and a cheer and the men line up for some of their money—again, enough for a good time and that's it. I want the real money passed out in Waterford so their wives and mothers can get their hands on it for the benefit of themselves and their children before it's gambled or frittered away on drink and loose women. If there's one thing I know in this world, it's the ways of sailors when they are ashore with something jingling in their pockets.
Of course, Higgins's accounting also means that me and the Emerald got 4,550 pounds—five years' pay for a captain of a first-rate. My, my ... It was the diamonds that did it, I know. I know also that I've got to talk to Higgins.
"Do you know of a bank you can trust?"
"Yes, Miss. There is a Bank of England branch in Colchester. Lord Hollingsworth used it and was never disappointed in its services."
We are seated in my cabin talking about this, but I still ain't convinced.
Ouch! As I shift my lower self on my chair I reflect that I sure as Hell ain't gonna be riding horses for a bit yet. Things look good on that end, though—the infection did not set in and I did not die. The worst of it was having to put up with the pitiful looks of concern I got from the oafs I have surrounded myself with.
"You are sure of this bank?"
"The Bank of England has the entire treasury of Great Britain behind it. It cannot fail as long as England exists. If you bank your money in the branch in Colchester, you will be able to draw it out in any of its branches—London, Ireland, Scotland—anywhere. I highly recommend it. You can't keep that amount of money in a box under your bed."
Hmmm... The gutter girl in me has great suspicions about banks and such, but Higgins says that it's all right, so...