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Under the Jolly Roger Page 63
Author: L.A. Meyer

There, wrapped in a cloth, is his old mess kit from the Dolphin! Jaimy, the nob, had a fork when all the rest of us had just knives and spoons. Just the thing.

I take the fork and bend it around on itself and stick it up in my hair. I use the ribbon to bring my hair around it to hide it. There. I look in Jaimy's little shaving mirror and it looks fine. It looks just like an ordinary bun.

That done, I strip down and begin to actually wash myself. I quickly finish and dry off with a handy towel and while I'm doing it, I look over at the bed. Hmmm...

There is still a very good chance I'm not going to survive this latest trouble I'm in. I think hard for a moment and then I open the door and stick my head out and say, "Mr. Piggott. Go get Mr. Fletcher. I'm having trouble with the wash basin." Then I close the door.

I pull back the cover on the bed and wait. He's not getting away this time, by God.

I do not have to wait long. There's a tap on the door and "Jacky?"

I reach out an arm and pull Lieutenant James Emerson Fletcher in by his collar and close the door and throw the latch. Jaimy looks at me and I throw my arms around him and we both fall toward the bed and then we're in it and Jaimy, I'm so glad to be back in your arms again, I'm your lass and always was and always will be and yes, Jaimy, please hold me and touch me and...

...there's that old knock again. Wham! Wham! Wham! Just like before.

Damn!

"Miss!" comes the call from outside the door. "I know what you're going to do in there and I'm going to be in so much trouble if you do what you're planning to do. I'll be demoted and flogged and..." I think Private Rodgers is out there actually crying and pleading on his knees.

"All right, Jeffrey," I say with a sigh. I look into Jaimy's gray eyes right in front of mine. "Lift me up, Jaimy."

He gets up and gives me his hand and I get up.

"Fill your eyes with me, Jaimy, and then kiss me, and kiss me hard and long, for it may be the last time."

He does, oh yes, he does.

"Now go, Jaimy."

And with one last feverish kiss, he does.

After I calm myself, I put on my old faithful blue dress, the one I made back on the Dolphin, which I had my Marine pull from my seabag. Then I go back to my cell and wait to be called. When Private Rodgers, relieved to have me safely back in my cell, has his back turned, I slip the fork under the thin mattress on my bench.

I put my ring back in my ear and squeeze it shut.

Both Corporal Martin and Private Rodgers come to collect me to take me to the Captain's cabin for dinner. Along the short way on deck I am able to wave to some of my old friends. I see Drake and Harkness and I hold Jared's gaze longer than I do the others. Then I am in the cabin.

All rise and I am taken and seated to the right of Captain Trumbull, with Jaimy to my left. There's Tom and Ned looking all gallant in their uniforms and looking to have each grown a foot since last I saw them. My bold Knights Errant I call them again, and they flush and look down, but I know they are pleased. And Georgie is there, too, all pink and stuffed into his uniform, which is growing too small for him, as well.

Lieutenant Beasley, the other officer Captain Trumbull brought to the Wolverine with him, has the watch, so it's all old friends here. Except for the Captain, of course, and he seems to be mellowing a bit, too.

"A glass of wine with you, Miss," he says. Higgins comes over and fills my glass. I give him a smile and a pat on his arm. He nods, in his solemn way, and goes on to pour for the others.

"Thank you, Sir," says I with a friendly, open Look upon my face. Sort of a half-Look, appropriate for such an occasion. "It was very kind of you to invite me, considering my ... status as your prisoner."

"Well, there's never an excuse for bad manners, is there?" he replies, knocking back his wine. I take a sip of mine and it is very good. I look up at Higgins and wink. He has plainly been into the stores of Tonda-lay-o, Former Queen of the Ocean Sea. That's fine, for they are certainly doing me no good now, and if it's helped Higgins in his new post, all the better.

"I assume all these fine things you had in stores were plunder from the ships you took?"

"No, Sir, these were all bought properlike. It is now you who have done the plundering." I put a little twist on that.

"Well, I'll have it either way," says Captain Trumbull, "with my compliments and my thanks." He says this with a slight bow in my direction.

Well should you be thankful, Captain, I'm thinkin, a fine feast, fine drink, excellent service, and seated next to you, a neat 250 pounds sterling. On the hoof, as it were. Would that the old Cheapside gang could know what I am now worth—more than double my weight in silver. I've come a long way, it seems.

I look about this familiar space and let myself drift back. How well I remember when, not so long ago, this cabin was mine and I would sit at this very table with my booted feet upon it, leaning back in my chair and gloating with my officers over our latest prize. Now I sit here a captive and I see that my Jolly Roger has been festooned across a trunk over there, as a trophy, I suppose. As I, too, am now a trophy, a prize. Ah, well.

"I have read the book of your experiences on the Dolphin, Miss Faber. Mr. Piggott there lent it to me," the Captain goes on. "Very interesting. It is too bad your adventuring must come to an end." He sounds genuinely a little bit sorry.

"Let us put thoughts of the future aside, Sir," I say. "Let us delight in the present, in good food, good wine, and good friends. All about me here are my friends, and, as you have been so gracious as to invite me to your table, permit me to count you also as my friend, as well as my captor."

I lift my glass to him. Sparkle, Jacky, sparkle.

"Well said, Miss," says the Captain and hear, hear! is heard all around. "I did not make the Fletcher connection when first I read the book," he says, when all are quiet again. He pointedly looks at Jaimy and me, who both have our hands under the table, those same hands being clasped together in my lap. "But now I do."

We sheepishly bring our hands back onto the tabletop.

Higgins brings in the mighty roast beef to great acclaim and we fall to and all are stuffing themselves to the point of stupefaction when there is a knock on the door and Mr. Beasley comes in and bows to the Captain.

"Your pardon, Sir, but a signal from the Flag. Lord Nelson has brought the combined French and Spanish fleets to bay off the Spanish coast. All British warships are to make speed for Cape Trafalgar to join the fight."

Chapter 51

The dinner was over right quick after that. The Captain got up and roared out orders to bring the ship about and head her south and I was sent back into my cage, protesting all the way. Please, Captain, don't put me down there for the fight! I don't wanna drown like a rat in a trap! Let me help! All to no avail. Back down in the cell I went.

The ship is in high uproar, clearing decks for action, bending on all possible sail to get to Trafalgar as quickly as possible—Not a moment to lose! is the cry. Men are sanding cannonballs to make them rounder, the Marines are putting extra rifles and powder horns into the maintop and foretop, where they will stand during the battle, shooting down onto the decks of the enemy. Men are making wills and signing them and making their peace with whatever God they worship.

Me, I'm down in my cage, twisting a fork. My Marines are distracted with the excitement of the coming fight, but they still keep an eye on me and I can't talk any sense into 'em. Please, Jeffrey, if it comes to a fight, say you'll let me out, say you will! This gets me I'm sorry, Miss, but you'll be safer down here. Right, and if the ship goes down, I go down, too. Please, please, I'd rather die out in the open air!

I find out from Jaimy during the few times I get to talk to him that it's gonna take us a good three or four days to get there, sailing in convoy with the rest of our squadron, Trafalgar being down by the Strait of Gibraltar, but we're making good time, about eight knots average, so maybe we'll be there in time for the fight. Great.

We're out in the open ocean now, in the Bay of Biscay, so any notion of me jumping overboard and swimming for freedom is out. I decide to shut up, escape notice, and work on making a key.

I work the same scam. I tell the Marine I've got to use the pot and when he goes out, I try my fork. I had studied the key hanging there and twisted down the tine of the fork in imitation of the tab at the end of the key.

"Corporal, if you would. Nature calls," I say, and he goes outside. It ain't hard for him to do that, what with all the excitement out there, I know he doesn't want to come back in.

I put the fork in and try it. Nothing. I rattle it some more. Sideways, this time. No. Somehow I've got to make the other tab.

"Corporal Martin. I'm done."

It's been two days of this and I'm getting scared. I still don't have it and I ain't got a lot of time. Jaimy comes down to see me more now, since we're in a certain routine in our dash for Trafalgar, and I can't do anything when he's visiting, so it's getting tight.

I know I can't ask Jaimy to do anything in the way of the key, 'cause of his word of honor and all, and 'cause he'd probably agree that I'd be safer down here during a battle. I don't agree, and I ain't forgot about that noose that's probably waiting for me in London should I survive this.

I've found a place, a joint between a bar and a cross brace, where I can put a tine of the fork and have a good deal of control over how it bends. I have bent one of the three tines back out of the way so it doesn't get in the way of the others, and I've taken the second one and forced it out sideways to look like the second tab on the key.

"Oh, Private Rodgers..."

I jam it in as soon as he leaves and wiggle it around. Nothing. I lift up the handle of the fork and try again. Third time's the charm, I pray and twist it in the lock.

Clack!

I suck in my breath. The lock is open! The door swings open an inch. Great! Now to get it closed before Jeffrey comes back.

I twist the fork the other way. Click! It locks again.

I put my key fork away and call Jeffrey back in again.

I resolve to practice the drill till I can do it under tension and so under fire, as well.

Try to hold Jacky Faber, will you?

Chapter 52

October 21,1805

5:50 A.M.

Signal from HMS Achilles to Lord Nelson

on board HMS Victory:

"Have Discovered a Strange Fleet"

The signal is passed down to me by Private Rodgers. I know from a very excited Jaimy that we have formed up with the main body of Nelson's fleet. You should see it, Jacky! There're over thirty-two of our Ships of the Line out there! And that's just the First-Raters, not counting frigates or little brigs like us! He darts back up to the deck.

So I guess some lookout has spotted the enemy fleet. I guess right.

6:10 A.M.

Signal from Nelson on board

HMS Victory to Fleet:

"Form Order of Sailing in Two Columns"

Again Rodgers repeats the signal. I make myself be calm. I make no more demands to be let out. I pretend to be a good girl sitting here with my hands folded in my lap, letting the big, bold men take care of me.

6:22 A.M.

Signal from Nelson to Fleet:

"Prepare for Battle"

Then more orders from Lord Nelson: Bear up and sail large on Course E and many orders to Admiral Collingwood who, Jaimy tells me, is the commander of the Lee Column of our ships, while Nelson commands the Weather Column, which is what we are in. Lee and Weather have to do with the direction of the wind, which is off our port quarter and almost dead astern. That would be good, except that the winds are very, very light. It looks like Nelson intends to drive two columns of our ships straight into the flank of the enemy lying off the coast, and, since the winds are so light, we will be punished going in. I shiver a bit. It's going to be bloody.

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L.A. Meyer's Novels
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» Curse of the Blue Tattoo
» In the Belly of the Bloodhound
» Mississippi Jack
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