Lee Chi, has, in fact, just this morning drawn a bath for me in my lovely little copper tub, and has washed, combed, and rebraided my pigtail. He has even given my head a bit of a shave as I intend to keep it in the Chinese style for as long as I am in these waters. And oh, how I would love to prance into the dining hall of the Lawson Peabody School for Young Girls coiffed and attired like this! Would that not be a howl? Oh, yes! I allow him to take his razor to my armpits and touch up my lower legs, as well, as I will soon be entertaining Mr. James Emerson Fletcher and I will want to be at my smooth best. However, I do instruct Lee Chi and his razor to leave my nether part alone.
I have to chuckle at that, and Josephine notices and looks at me curiously—very perceptive monkey that she is—and then I have to laugh again over one thing that was especially amusing on that otherwise very tense day back there at the penal colony. As the Cerberus had been discharging its cargo of convicts, one of that number who was struggling mightily had to be taken off bound and gagged. The guards who took custody of the unfortunate man were informed that he had gone insane on the way there, the poor man being convinced that he was a legitimate member of the ship's crew and not a prisoner. He was written into the manifest as one Thaddeus Stevens, who had been transported for life for the crime of forgery, but was, in fact—heh-heh—the poor Weasel. Ha! Let's see the creepy little bastard talk his way out of that one! Plus, Jaimy got ten pounds six for his wormy hide! And they say that James Emerson Fletcher does not have a sense of humor! Ha!
Ah, yes, and about Jaimy ... I did hustle him off quite briskly down there 'round Botany Bay, with the excuse that he must immediately arm his Cerberus, and, of course, Higgins saw right through me, as usual, smiling his small smile as he set out my lonely dinner that first night away. Our other dinners on this trip have been joyous, with Messrs. Seabrook, Gibson, and Hinckley in attendance in my cabin, and with the Shantyman to provide music and laughter, but it wasn't quite the same without good old Captain Gussie, he having passed on to a place hopefully joyous enough to contain the spirit of that happy man, and Mairead, back on the Cerberus and bedded up with her dear Ian, and all the members of the Crews right now spreading the joy of their presence through the colony at New South Wales. Still, we maintain our cheer as best we can.
"All right, Higgins, you see right through me, as always," I had said, poking at my otherwise delicious dinner.
"Whatever do you mean, Miss?" he'd asked, knowing full well what I meant.
"Yes, I sent poor Jaimy off with only a kiss or two, when he had every expectation of ... you know..."
"I had no notion."
"Of course you didn't, my ever present mentor. Of course, you didn't..."
It's at least five months back to the Atlantic, and maybe I don't want to be with child during that time. Maybe I want—Oh, I don't know what I want. Everything is just so damned complicated. I don't know ... Maybe I'll just relax and let my karma take me where it will ... Maybe I am turning Chinese, after all...
I turn my head to watch the shore of Sumatra slipping past, several miles out to the west. That shore is quiet, unlike the Australian shore we had left on our starboard side not many days ago. That place had constantly reverberated with low, weird humming sounds that I knew came from no human nor animal throat. There were drums, also, and buzzing noises, and I had a strong suspicion that the local inhabitants were expressing their joy over the prospect of John Bull setting up a colony on their land—the same so-called joy that Tecumseh and Chee-a-quat and his people felt when it happened to them, I suspect.
I look up again at the dragon pennant twisting in the wind and think back to the parting with Cheng Shi. After our ships drifted apart, I had looked back and noticed her standing on her quarterdeck, looking back at me. I stood there myself until such time as the Divine Wind slipped beneath the horizon. It was the least I could do for her. Joi gin, Beloved Shih.
I settle back against the mast. Complicated, complicated, everything is so damned com—
"On deck there!" shouts the lookout, high in the mainmast. "Ship. Flying English colors! Two points off starboard bow!"
Booooooommmmmmm...
The sound of cannon fire rumbles across the water.
In an instant I roll off the foretop and hasten down to stand next to Mr. Hinckley on the quarterdeck, my glass to my eye. Can it be Jaimy, come to the rendezvous?
No, it is not. It is that damned annoying Dart, the Royal Navy sloop-of-war assigned to guard the Cerberus on its way to Botany Bay. Why the hell does she have to turn up now?
"Beat to quarters!" I cry. "Man your stations, man your guns, but do not yet open your gun ports!"
I peer again at the Dart. She had hidden behind a headland, which is why we didn't spot her right off. Damn!
"All stations report manned-and-ready," shouts Mr. Hinckley, looking rather pale. He is a good lad, but he has never been in pitched battle before.
"Good, Mr. Hinckley. Stand ready. I do not wish to fire on a British ship. But, by God, before I go back into captivity, I'll fire on King George himself, I'll—"
"He is signaling, Miss," says Mr. Hinckley, his eye to his glass. We have been joined on deck by Mr. Seabrook, Mr. Gibson, and Mr. Lightner. "It is a blue pennant with a white stripe. What can it mean?"
"It is the Numeral Two Pennant," answers Mr. Lightner, the only Royal Naval officer aboard, except for me, and I am not all that good at the meaning of the signal flags. "It means he requests a parley."
Another flag races to the top of the Dart's mast top.
"Red pennant, with white stripe," reports Mr. Hinckley.
"Plain text to follow," translates the blind Mr. Lightner.
"There's an H flag," says Mr. Gibson. "I do know the alphabet flags ... yes ... and there's an E ... and an L ... and yet another..."
"Hell?" I say, mystified. "What could that mean?"
"There's more ... an O ... and now a P ... and there goes a U..."
"Hellopu?" I wonder. "It sounds rather ... East Indian ... I don't know..." I look to Ravi, but he shrugs and shakes his head.
"He's hoisting another one ... It is an S ... And there's another one, the same..."
"H-E-L-L-O-P-U-S-S," repeats Mr. Hinckley, mystified.
Yes, they are confused, but I am not. No, I stand astounded, for I know what the flags say...
Hello, Puss...
Chapter 71
A boat is lowered from HMS Dart and is rowed over to the side of the Lorelei Lee. A ladder is rigged over the starboard side, and in a very short time, Mr. Joseph Jared steps onto my quarterdeck. There have been times in my life when I have been very glad to see this rogue, but this is not one of them. Right now I stand astounded ... and somewhat worried.
The boarding party is bristling with pistols and cutlasses, but Jared is armed only with his cocky grin ... and a courtly bow.
"So good to see you again, Jacky," he says, gazing in open amusement at my silken garb, my shiny smooth head, and the Chinese sword strapped to my back. "And Mr. Higgins, too. It has been a long run from the old Wolverine to here, has it not?"
"Indeed it has, Sir," says Higgins, returning the bow. The other officers say nothing, but I know they, too, are extremely concerned by the arrival of a well-armed Royal Navy ship while they stand onboard a ship flying a pirate flag.
"Good day, Mr. Jared," I say, as coldly as I can. "May I present my officers ... Mr. Seabrook, First Mate, Mr. Gibson, Second, and Mister Hinckley, Third." Each bows in turn. "And my Sailing Master, Mr. Lightner."
Jared acknowledges each, casting a wry eye at me when he nods to the plainly blind Enoch Lightner.
"Gentlemen. I am Lieutenant Joesph Jared, Commander of HMS Dart, at your service."
Commander? How did Joseph Jared, whom I first met as a common seaman onboard HMS Wolverine, end up as Captain of a Royal Navy ship? And here, of all places?
"Well, then, Captain Faber, might we repair to your quarters?" he asks me. "We have much to discuss."
"Like what, Captain Jared?" I ask.
"Oh, the terms of your surrender, and all that..."
"My surrender? You will note, Mr. Jared," I spit out, my look as steely as I can make it. "I have not yet hauled down my colors ... nor have I given you my sword."
He nods, looking at the hilt of my sword that rests behind my right shoulder. "Impressive weapon, that. However, I do not think it would stand up to the cutlasses of the hundred men I have aboard my ship, all of them trained British man-of-war men. Come, Puss, a glass of wine between old friends? There is never an excuse for bad manners, you know."
I thrust my chin into the air and turn abruptly away. "Very well. You may follow me down into my cabin. Mr. Seabrook, maintain the ship in its current state of readiness. If that ship fires on us, fire back. Mr. Higgins, please have Ravi bring down some refreshments."
I lead the way into the cabin, and I hear Jared's footsteps behind me. As soon as the door is closed, I feel an arm around my middle, and I am twisted around to face him.
"Ah, Puss, it is so good to see you!" He plants a kiss on my forehead and then grabs my pigtail and pulls my head back and then puts one on my open mouth. A part of my reeling mind reminds me just how handy randy males are finding the convenience of my pigtail—jerk on her pigtail, her mouth opens, just like that. Sort of like a pump handle, rather, I'm thinkin'...But then I ain't thinkin' no more...
"And here's some colors we can think of taking down," he says, his voice thick with passion, and he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my colorful silk trousers and begins hauling them southward...
Oh, Joseph ... I—
The door opens and a wide-eyed Ravi, little white turban and all, comes in, bearing a tray with glasses upon it.
"Is pretty Missy in trouble with Big Mister from other boat?" asks the lad. "If so, Ravi has sharp knife here in belt and will—"
I withdraw my tongue, collect my senses, and push Mr. Jared back.
"No, Ravi, it is all right ... But you should learn to knock. Please, Mr. Jared, be seated." I gesture toward my table, and Captain Joseph Jared sits down, as do I.
Ravi places the glasses in front of us, then stands back. I reach for mine, but Jared stays my hand.
"Just a moment there, Puss," he says.
He reaches out and switches the glasses. "Excuse me, Jacky, but I do know you and I do not want to wind up drugged, bound and gagged, and headed for a very poor berth on some Chinese junk bound for Shanghai. Considering how you are dressed, I imagine you could arrange that quite easily."
He takes a long drink out of the glass.
I smile what I hope to be my new, inscrutable Oriental smile, and say, "Mr. Jared, if you really knew Jacky Faber, Golden Child and Little Round-Eyed Barbarian, then you would know that I would have drugged both glasses and then just pretended to drink out of mine."
I look at him over the brim of my glass, my lips only touching the rim.
He looks dubiously at the remains of his wine, and then tosses it back. "Well, if it is to be some miserable rice-boat, then so be it."