Home > In the Belly of the Bloodhound(64)

In the Belly of the Bloodhound(64)
Author: L.A. Meyer

Henry gets halfway up the ladder, and I tell Sylvie in a whisper, "Go back to Boston, Sylvie, and tell our story. But in your happiness, remember this—be kind to everyone in the tellin of the tale. Do you take my meaning?"

She looks at me and then at Elspeth. She nods, her chest heaving with excitement.

I put a kiss on her forehead. "Go then, Sylvie, and we wish you the greatest joy," and we let her go.

Henry Hoffman reaches the top of the ladder, and then his fondest dreams come true. Sylvie Rossio leaps upon him, covering his face with kisses and crying, "Henry, oh, Henry, how I have missed you so!"

Henry near faints away, but he doesn't. He gapes at her. He gapes at all of us standing there grinning.

"But, but, I should find out what—"

"Henry," I say, "your Sylvie knows the whole story. Put her on the back of your horse and fly to Boston and let her tell the tale. It will ensure that we have a proper reception."

I do like a proper reception.

The two of them race down the ladder and Henry leaps on his horse, then reaches down for his girl and pulls her up. She wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in the nape of his neck and they are off.

I reflect to myself that those two will be married very soon. Maybe even tonight...

Chapter 56

Lieutenant James Emerson Fletcher

The Pig and Whistle

State Street, Boston, Massachusetts, USA

July 2, 1806

Miss Jacky Faber

On Board HMS Juno

Off New England, USA

My Dearest Jacky,

You cannot imagine the joy. The joy of knowing that you are alive and well, the joy that I will see you on the morrow, and the joy of knowing that you will indeed be reading this letter and all the others I wrote in those hours and days of sorrow and desperation during your absence and presumed loss.

To ease the agony of waiting these last hours before your arrival, I will write down an account of How the Blessed News of the Deliverance of the Girls of the Lawson Peabody Was Brought to Boston. I know our children will delight in the story of How Their Mother Saved the Day.

I was walking this morning in my usual state of deep melancholy when I encountered John Higgins, who was coming out of the courthouse, no doubt on another of his sleuthing errands, and we agreed to go up the hill to call on Mistress Pimm, to see how she was bearing up. We walked in companionable silence up Court Street to Tremont and then on to Beacon Street. We were just approaching the school when we heard a clatter of hooves and a hallooing behind us. We turned and saw a horse and rider, and when he got close enough, I recognized Henry Hoffman, who I had supposed was still in New York. Then I noted that he had two arms about his waist and then the head of a black-haired girl looked out from around his shoulder and for once the unshakable Higgins stood open-mouthed in wonder.

"It's Sylvia Rossio! One of the girls who was taken!" he gasped.

A spark of hope ignited in my heart.

Henry came abreast of us and reined in the horse. "They're safe!" said this Sylvia. "They're all safe!" And sweet relief flooded my mind. "Come! We must tell Mistress! We must tell everybody!"

Higgins's rock-hard reserve returned to him. He allowed himself a slight smile and said only, "Hmmmph....I wonder what took her so long?"

I, on the other hand, threw my hat into the air and went whooping up the street to follow the bearers of Glad Tidings into the Lawson Peabody.

When I go through the door, the place is already in an uproar. We encounter Mistress Pimm in the hall, and Sylvia cries, "Oh, Mistress, they're all safe, every one." Mistress's expression does not change. She nods and says, "Good. Then we shall be able to resume classes next week. I shall inform the faculty. Shall we all repair to the drawing room, where Sylvia can tell us her story? Ruby, tea for all, please. Betsey, please stop crying. Peg, please join us, as well. Oh, yes, and please get Angelique. She will want to know, too. It is good to see you again, dear," she says to Sylvia and leads the way into the room.

The tea is served and the girl Sylvia stands up and tells the tale. There is shocked silence when she relates how you all were taken and brought so low, and later, when you, yourself, were so cruelly flogged. I could not believe it. I still burn with fury when I think on that atrocity, and my only wish is that Captain Blodgett were still alive so I could hunt him down and kill him. Mistress Pimm, upon hearing that account, stood up, took her rod, and broke it across her knee, saying she would never use a rod for punishment again.

Word is sent to the courthouse and bells are rung and people run out to see what the fuss is—the last time it was rung it was for a certain fire, you might recall. Joyous parents are informed of the happy news and are invited for a retelling of the story this evening.

I count the slow minutes, and the even slower hours. I know I shall not sleep tonight. I know also that I will never let you out of my sight again.

Your Most Devoted & etc.,

Jaimy

Chapter 57

We sail into Boston Harbor, all of us up on deck, with all flags out and flying. It is an absolutely gorgeous day—the sun is shining, the breeze is cool and light, and the sky is blue. As we stand into the harbor, we are met by a multitude of small boats, all the people within them hallooing and waving and blowing horns. One of the boats is the Morning Star, with Jim Tanner at the helm, cheering for all he is worth. My chest tightens at the sight of both of them. I wave back joyously. Fireworks are set off and brightly colored smoke bombs are exploded and we can hear bands playing on every jetty that we pass. We all stand on the deck and wave and halloo right back at all of those who came out to greet us on this glad day.

As we approach Long Wharf, for that is obviously our destination, Dolley, Clarissa, and I stand together, back from the others. We had decided that our last act as Division Officers would be to designate ourselves as the last ones off. It suited Dolley's sense of rightness, Clarissa's sense of aristocratic privilege, and my sense of the dramatic.

Dolley, like the others, is in school dress, the clothing in which we all were taken. Clarissa, having no dress, or any other clothing, for that matter, it having been left on the deck of the Bloodhound, is dressed in my maroon riding habit. She looks splendid, and how could I deny her? It is her way, I know that now, and I know we could not have gotten through what we did without her. So let her preen—she has earned it. I thought of wearing another of my fine outfits that were stuffed down in my seabag, but, no, best to remain modest for a change. I'm wearing my school dress, too, newly cleaned and pressed, as best the HMS Juno could do it.

I look around at the scene and know the Captain of the Juno can't wait to be rid of us and had bent on all sail to get us up here with the last bit of speed the ship would bear. Discipline on the ship, as far as the midshipmen and junior officers were concerned, had gone completely to hell—many of our girls had been flirting outright with the young men, and the young men, astounded at their luck to find thirty or so young women in various states of undress in the middle of the ocean, were certainly easy prey for their charms. I'm sure many pledges of undying love and devotion were exchanged, and who knows, some of them might turn out to be true. Even little Rebecca's thirteen-year-old self has found a midshipman near her own age, and they have been holding hands and making cow-eyes at each other these past precious days.

I look upon my Sisters and reflect that many of the parents of these girls are going to be more than surprised by the daughters returned to them, as they will not be the same giddy girls that gaily left on that fateful day. They may very well not accept anything that their families, their society, or even their own individual fates merely hand to them. They will be trouble, mark me on that.

The instant the Juno is warped to the pier and the first line is thrown over, a flag is hoisted on the masthead of the Customs House and immediately every church bell in the city peals out and the bells do not stop.

The gangway is lowered without great ceremony, and the girls swarm off the Juno, having been formed up in the last muster of Sin-Kay's alphabetical line. They don't mind, for it gives them great joy to see little Rebecca run down the gangway into the arms of her family, then Ruth, then Sally, then all the rest. There goes Annie and Helen and Dorothea and ... There's Higgins!

Oh, God, Higgins, and Peg and Mistress beside him ... and then Connie and Martha go down and ... There's Amy and Ezra!

And there ... No, it can't be. There, next to Higgins. Oh, Lord, it's Jaimy ... Good God, it's really Jaimy, standing there smiling up at me and reaching up his hand, and the tears pour out of my eyes and down my face and they are tears of absolute joy.

My happiness is complete.

Clarissa, standing next to me, notices. "So that's him, eh? Well, he looks presentable ... Good chest ... fine leg..."

Then it's Dolley's turn to leave the ship, and a great cheer goes up from the girls as she goes down the gangway.

Dimly, I sense Clarissa looking at me. "Well, even though I owe you one in that regard, I might let you keep him." And with that, she turns and goes down the gangway, head up, the Look in place, to the cheers of her Sisters.

I have not been able to take my eyes off Jaimy's as I float, as if in a dream, to the gangway. I put my foot on it, and then...

And then two bayonets cross in front of my chest and I hear the Captain intone, "Miss Faber, by order of His Majesty, King George the Third, you are under arrest on the charge of Piracy!"

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