Chapter Thirteen #3
“You know of what. The story you dislike so—that the Sea Bucca’s daughter protects the ship.” A pause, then, “So what do you say?”
“Do you mean to say you agree with them?”
“Of course not. I don’t believe you bring the ship good fortune, nor should you sail with us. It’s far too dangerous—I’ve told you my view many times. But as you may have realized, sailors are a superstitious bunch.”
He takes a small sip and blows on the coffee again.
“Cornish sailors more than most, I reckon. Which means if I don’t keep you on board, the next time we run afoul of the Revenue Service or we’ve got a man overboard or a storm blows away the staysail, it won’t be because of the wiles of fate or the unpredictability of the weather, it’ll be because I chose not to keep you on.
I can’t have that. The crew and I, we need to be of one mind.
So, much as I wish otherwise, I suppose I’m offering you a place aboard the Rapide during our next voyage back to Roscoff.
I imagine Madame Cuvelier will be glad to see you again.
Captain Cuvelier told me you’ve become fast friends. ”
When she doesn’t say anything, he says, “It’ll be a means of securing an income of your own. Considering your views on your independence, that can only be pleasing to you.”
She’s silent for so long Jack says, “Will you give me an answer to this proposal, at least?” She’s shaking her head in disbelief and then she’s laughing. She reaches for his hand, saying, “I get to go to sea with you again?” Her voice is high and punctuated by laughter. “You mean it?”
He laughs, too, in spite of himself. “That’s a yes then?”
“I didn’t realize you needed an answer. I should like it of all things, Jack. Oh, I can’t think of anything more wonderful!”
“Can you honestly not?” he says more soberly.
It’s as if she has swallowed a sharp-edged pebble. Quickly, she says, “I didn’t mean it like that. But if I were to say yes to your other proposal, would you still be inclined to respond favorably to your crew’s petition?”
“That remains to be seen.” He drums his fingers on the desk. He’s about to say more but is stopped by a shout from the deck: “Captain! Ship ahoy!”
Jack sets his glass down so hard it sounds as if he meant to break it. He’s out the door and up the ladder in seconds. Isabel follows more slowly. By the time she reaches the deck, Harry Tremayne has handed the spyglass to Jack, who trains it on a speck in the distance.
“You see it, Captain?” Harry says.
Jack says, “I see it, all right.” The minutes lengthen as he watches the speck while the crew watches him. After a while, he calls, “Dick! Come here and have a look.”
Dick takes the spyglass. “It’s her, isn’t it, Captain?”
“That’s what I thought. Harry?”
“The Swallow, isn’t she, sir? I thought she was, only my eyes aren’t as good as Dick’s.”
“Neither are mine,” says Jack. “But with that bowline, yes, I wager she’s the Swallow and she’s gaining on us.”
“As she’s wont to do,” Harry says. “She’s got twice the sail.”
“Twice the weight, too, if we didn’t have our cargo,” says Jack.
“Without the cargo, we could outrun her.” He lowers the spyglass and taps his fingers on it, thinking.
“Set all sails!” he calls, and then, “Run a lead line, will you, Betham? And you, Will. Tell me your findings the moment you have them.”
“How long before she’s upon us, Captain?” Oppy says, gripping the helm.
“I reckon we’ve got about half an hour. Let’s hope the sea isn’t too deep here.”
A few minutes later, Betham calls, “By the mark seven. Sand and broken shell, sir!”
“Very good. Thank you, Betham,” Jack calls back. And to Harry Tremayne: “Seven fathoms. Do you think the lines will reach that far?”
“I believe so, Captain.”
Not a minute later, Will Pengelly makes the same observation and Jack calls out, “Rafts it’ll be!
Get to it, men! Coffee and brandy only!” His command sets in motion a dance of activity.
Men run about carrying ropes, others bring up kegs of brandy and boxes of coffee from the hold and place them side by side on the top deck.
Isabel asks Jack, “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we try to sail away?”
“We will,” he says. “But we can’t outrun the Swallow with the cargo we’re carrying.
We’re lashing together the kegs and boxes.
Then we’ll drop them to the seabed with a marker attached, a small one; the Swallow is far enough behind they won’t spot it, I hope.
They’ll have all eyes on us as they try to catch us.
Without the weight of those kegs, we should be able to get away. ”
“But what of the goods?” she says.
“We’re close enough to shore that it’s not too deep here. We’ll retrieve them with a grappling hook in a couple of days.”
“We’ll go creeping,” Harry Tremayne says with a grin. He wriggles his fingers. “Like little mice, across the ocean floor.”
“So we will.” Jack puts the spyglass to his eye again. “Make haste, there!”
The men sweat under the weight of the kegs as they lift the raft over the bow of the ship, where the crew of the Swallow won’t be able to see the splash it causes.
The moment the kegs and boxes go over the side, the Rapide leaps forward.
A cheer goes up and Jack points the spyglass at the pursuing revenue cutter again.
“Is it enough, Captain?” says Oppy.
Jack watches the Swallow another minute, then lowers the spyglass. “Let’s hope so. If need be, we’ll dump some of the cargo.”
“Dump?” Harry says. “Captain, you’ll run a loss.”
“I prefer a lack of profit to another skirmish or the noose,” Jack says. His eyes are on Isabel as he says it. “With that madman Sowerby about, we’re as like to be taken for traitors as we are for free traders. But let’s not despair yet. We’ve just gained ourselves—how many knots, Dick?”
“About three knots, Captain.”
“Good,” Jack says, handing Isabel the spyglass. “Have a look. Tell me what you think of her.”
It’s startling how much closer the spyglass brings the revenue ship. She watches for a moment, then says quietly, “It looks like she’s still gaining.”
Jack takes another look and swears. “So she is. Very well. Harry, lose the Swedish iron. We haven’t got time to make another raft.”
“Are you certain, Captain?”
“Yes, damn it. And be quick about it.”
More crates go overboard; again the Rapide jumps like a startled horse.
They’re not flying as they did during the storm, but they’re fast. Spray flies across the bowsprit and Isabel leans over to watch the hull cut the sea, making a path lined in foam.
After a moment, she runs back to the stern of the ship.
Every man is on deck, watching the Swallow.
The revenue cutter is keeping up. Her heart wants to hammer its way through her skin.
Is Lieutenant Sowerby on board? Or his friend Lieutenant Sullivan, who shot Jack a month ago?
If the revenue cutter catches up with them, will the ship open fire?
How many guns does the Swallow have? The Rapide has only six, all carriage guns, nothing like the thirty-two pounders George had on HMS Neptune.
As if he guesses her thoughts, Jack says, “She’s got four twelve-pounders on each side, plus guns fore and aft—twelve in total. ”
Without thinking, she reaches for his hand and he takes it, squeezing it briefly before putting both hands around the spyglass, steadying the instrument.
They watch as the Swallow keeps coming on and she’s holding her breath, then puffing for air, then holding her breath again, until, after the longest wait, the revenue ship appears to be getting smaller.
“She’s falling behind,” Jack says, handing the spyglass to Dick, who agrees. Still nobody speaks until at last the revenue cutter drops beyond the horizon. A cheer goes up and Isabel finds herself cheering with the rest of the crew.
“Three hurrahs for the captain!” calls Thomas Moyle, veins popping in his neck.
Another of Jack’s tenants, John Spargo, calls, “And one for the Bucca’s daughter!” which makes her want to hide behind Jack.
He chuckles, saying, “You can take a Cornishman out of Cornwall, but you can’t take Cornwall out of him.
They’ll believe it until the Bucca himself comes up from the depths to disown you.
” Peering at the mercifully empty horizon, he says, “It’s a shame about the iron.
” Turning to the men, he calls, “Once we’ve landed the cargo, how about we open up one of the kegs and enjoy its contents to celebrate? ”
More cheers follow this announcement. “Take her along the coast, Oppy,” Jack says. “We’ll stand out until nightfall.”
“Where to, Captain?”
“The Helford River.”