Chapter 10
“Williams, Little, Ridley, get down here,” Mr. Tallow yelled over the wind. The ship’s boys were standing on the forecastle, apparently speaking of something exciting.
Simon Ridley, the fifteen-year-old boy whom I’d become friends with over the past few weeks during our lessons with Tallow, looked back and beckoned me to join them. “I’ll go get them, Mr. Tallow,” I said before going up the ladder.
I squealed when I saw what the boys were gawking at. “Dolphins!” I exclaimed, leaning so far forward to watch them I nearly tipped over the gunwale. Behind me I heard an intake of breath, and then Patrice was beside me, laughing at the sight.
“Dolphins are mighty good luck on a ship,” Simon told me. His childlike wonder shined so clearly in his eyes, and yet he sounded so intelligent when he spoke.
“I’d read something like that before. It seems we’re blessed, then.” I grinned at the beautiful creatures jumping over the ship’s wake.
We heard Tallow’s voice again, and I worried he’d make himself hoarse by continuing to call us down. I motioned to the other boys. “We should go. Tallow’s waiting for us.”
After a few more pleased looks, we took turns descending the steps to the main deck.
Tallow began explaining something we’d already learned the day before, but I took mental notes anyway.
I had learned the basics of navigating and felt mildly confident about my skills.
Tallow was a knowledgeable and patient tutor.
After only a week or so of interacting with him, I felt he was like the grandfather I never had.
Kind, wise, and soft-spoken. The fact that he had lived the majority of his life on a ship with hardened sailors for company impressed me.
He handed Williams the sextant. The boy pointed it to the horizon, and I went over the steps in my mind. He pressed the clamp to release the index bar, brought the sun to the horizon, released the clamp and adjusted the sun’s position, then relayed his findings to us.
Mr. Tallow clicked his tongue, which was a habit of his. “You need to double-check it before you say it so confidently, Williams. Here.” He held out his hand for the sextant. “Once you align it here, you release the clamp, and then verify its position. Then you should get the correct angle.”
Williams bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tallow. Shall I try again?”
“No, no, I believe you’ll get it right next time.
Miss Findlay, you’re up.” He held out the sextant to me and I completed the actions in order, remembering to verify it as well.
Mr. Tallow nodded when I finished, and my heart swelled with triumph.
It felt good to learn something that previously had been so foreign to me.
There were many things I was capable of that I’d never considered trying before.
I wasn’t one to be less than confident, but I supposed I had been when Graham left. I should’ve spoken up. I should’ve asked him to take me with him. But he hadn’t offered, and it was to be only one year, after all. I was now learning the importance of pursuing knowledge and expanding my horizons.
Once we’d all used the sextant, Patrice included, we returned to Tallow’s office and charted our position.
“We’re right on track,” he murmured, though we all knew it was for us he spoke.
Sometimes he murmured things that he actually meant to say loudly.
I assumed it was a result of his age; he didn’t always have the strength to speak loudly.
Perhaps we took too much energy out of him.
The boys and Patrice left after saying goodbye to Mr. Tallow, but I stayed and helped him a bit longer. I made tea for him, made him comfortable, and sat to visit with him. He let out a groan as he leaned back in his chair.
“Are you feeling unwell?” I asked.
He looked at me with bleary eyes. “When you reach my age, Miss Findlay, you always feel unwell. I have grown accustomed to it.” He readjusted his sitting position. Then he smiled wryly. “Though that doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it, no?”
“You have earned the right to complain about anything you’d like,” I assured him. “And as I’ve said before, please call me Elsie.” I watched him settle into his seat a little more. “Shall I read to you?”
“I shan’t say no to that, Elsie.” He pointed to his shelf. “I have a half-finished novel up there. Do you see something called…oh, what was the title?” He squinted to see the book, so I stood and began reading the spines to him.
“Robinson Crusoe, The Tale of a Tub, The Castle of Otrante, The Mysteries of Udolpho—”
“That’s the one.”
I pulled out the book by Anne Radcliffe and sat on the seat nearest him. “I’m surprised by your choice in novels.”
“I am not so old as to dislike a mystery.” He chuckled. “Have you ever read it?”
“Not all of it.” Reading had never been my favorite pastime. Of course, I’d read more in the past three years than I ever had before. But I never got through Udolpho. It was much too gothic for my taste.
“Then let’s finish it together,” Mr. Tallow said, smiling at me.
I began reading, but a few sentences in, he interrupted to ask a question. It had nothing to do with the book.
“What kind of young man is this that you are chasing, Elsie, that he actually had the gall to reject you?” He folded his hands in his lap thoughtfully. “It seems unfathomable that any man would do such a thing to a woman such as you.”
Telling him about Graham hadn’t been planned, but his gentle demeanor led me to spilling secrets I otherwise would have kept to myself.
I grinned at him. “You are absolutely right, Mr. Tallow. Graham must be wholly unaware of my worth.”
“What did he say in his letter?”
“That he didn’t wish to drag me down with him. If I am to paraphrase.” I pursed my lips at the thought of his letter.
“He must have a poor opinion of himself.”
“Or me,” I suggested.
“No, he feels unqualified. He can’t provide a comfortable life for you. It’s understandable to me.” He sighed. “It’s why I never married.”
I leaned forward, keen to hear his story. “Was there someone you wished to marry?”
His eyes seemed to glaze over as he thought through decades of memories. “There was one woman who stood out among the rest. She was much too genteel for a rough man like me. I couldn’t make promises to her. I was meant to be on a ship bound for India and I wasn’t sure I’d return.”
“But you could have brought her with you.”
He met my eyes. “I would never have put a woman in such a position. I wished to protect her from everything difficult. Including waiting for me.”
We fell into silence as I took in his meaning.
Graham must never have wanted to see me suffer on the high seas.
I could understand him a bit more than before, and yet I wondered how deeply he loved me, if he could leave me behind.
I almost asked Tallow about how deeply he loved that woman, but he had drifted off into a restful sleep.
I closed the book and put it down on his desk, sighing deeply.
Speaking to him always enlightened me. The storms and battles he had weathered in his eighty years were filled with the wisdom that only came with time.
After leaving his cabin, I found Patrice and we took a turn around the ship. Patrice walked beside me, her arms swinging happily.
“Did he seem more tired than usual today?” I asked Patrice regarding Tallow.
She slowed her arms and nodded. “I worry about him. I think seafaring might be too much for him at his age.”
“We should try to take things off his plate. Perhaps we can mitigate his exhaustion.” I began thinking of ways to help him. I’d offer to take shifts or have the more experienced ship’s boys teach a few lessons in his stead. There were ways to help, certainly.
My thoughts of Tallow evaporated as we entered the purser’s office and took our usual chairs opposite Mr. Ashby.
He seemed more frazzled than ever. His sleeves were rolled up and ink stained his hands, some even leaving marks on his face.
His hair was chaotic, and when he looked up at us briefly, acknowledging our entrance, I saw fear in his eyes.
“What is the matter?” I asked him, leaning on my elbows.
He blinked at me and then dropped his pen with a rough sigh. “Where do I even begin?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, no.”
He nodded. “It is much worse than that.” He stood, then opened and closed the door as if checking to see if anyone was nearby.
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I don’t think any of the crew are getting paid when we dock.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Captain Selton jumps ship before we reach land.
” He dragged a hand down his face, smearing some of the ink there.
My heart thudded with nerves. “Is there nothing that can be done?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t found anything yet. He told me before we set sail that he hoped I might be able to correct some mistakes…but this goes far beyond any of my capabilities.”
“Did he expect you to fix the books for him?”
He shook his head. “The thought has not escaped me.”
“You wouldn’t…” I began, but after only a couple of weeks, I still did not know Mr. Ashby fully. Perhaps he would.
“No, of course not. At least, in an ideal situation I would never even consider it. But this…” His eyes tightened as he met mine.
“I’m a man of integrity, Miss Findlay. But I fear for your safety if things don’t go well.
I may have to conceal some of this for the crew’s sanity.
I’m certain the captain is counting on my desire to protect you in order to gain my allegiance. ”
“What will happen if the crew finds out?” Patrice asked from my left.
I clasped my hands tightly, allowing dozens of potential scenes to play out in my mind. Riots, men thrown overboard, Mr. Ashby imprisoned, perhaps Patrice and me as well. A knot formed in my throat and traveled to my stomach, where it sat like a pit.
“I have heard men cry mutiny for far less.”