"The words for today are monologue, dialogue, and soliloquy," intones Mr. Tilden.
I've also got three words for today, but I don't say them out loud. They are betrothed, bespoke, and forsworn. I like those words. Also, I like the sound of Mrs. James Fletcher and Mrs. Jacky Fletcher and Lieutenant and Mrs. James Fletcher. Better yet, Captain James Emerson Fletcher and his lovely wife, Mrs. Mary Jacky Fletcher, were received by His Majesty the...
I, Mary Jacky Faber, resolve that I must be the good one in this relationship because I'm the one with sense. My brain is in my head and not in other places, which is not always the case with my very good friend, Mr. Fletcher. He has been suggesting of late that the jolly boat would be a fine place for us to sneak into and pull the canvas cover over it and no one would know we were in there, and wouldn't that be prime? Just to be together, of course. Nothing more. I think that would not be prime to climb into the aptly named jolly boat, because our mutual passion might get the better of us, and I know from my conversation with Mrs. Roundtree what the end of that would be, and that is just not possible at this time. No, no, I must not tempt Mr. Fletcher beyond all endurance, poor lad, as that would bring ruin upon us both.
Besides, the other lads will surely begin to wonder about our absence.
Yes, it is I who must make sure that our laces stay firmly laced and our buttons stay tightly buttoned and our pants stay up and on. So belay that, sailor, heave to and trice up.
I shall make a point to see James this evening and discuss it with him.
"Oh Jaimy, please Jaimy, I just loses me head and me good sense when we're alone and all pressed up together like this and oh, Jaimy, I don't want to deny ye nothin, Jaimy, hut I can't he wi' child now, I'd he put off and have to he put with a howl to beg and I don't want to go back to beggin', Jaimy, I don't 'cause I hates the beggin' and wi' a baby on me hip, oh God, I don't want I don't want I don't waaaaa..."
"Jacky, please stop crying. I'd never do anything to hurt you, Jacky, please stop crying, someone's going to hear you. Here, wipe your face in my shirt. Please stop, Jacky, I'd die before I'd see you hurt..."
"And I'd never see ye no more, Jaimy, and I couldn't stand that, I couldn't stand that, I could stand anythin else hut not that, to see ye nay more, Jaimy, 'twould kill me it would and why are ye shakin me, Jaimy, why are ye..."
"For the love of God, Jacky, we're going to be caught right now if you don't quiet down."
"I'm your lass, Jaimy, I am forever and ever, hut we can't we can't, oh, Jaimy ... hic ... not now ... hic oh oh oh ... hic ... hic..."
"Now you've given yourself the hiccups, Jacky, see what you've done. Here, blow your nose. Someone's coming. We won't go in the jolly boat."
I am not at all pleased with my handling of the situation yesterday. I do not know exactly how a lady conducts herself in matters such as these, but I have a strong suspicion that I could have handled it in a more dignified fashion. But it did seem to work, for all that. We do not go in the jolly boat and I remain chaste. Somewhat.
We have been sailing slowly around in mist and fog for over a week, and since we can't see the stars at night, nor even the sun nor the horizon clearly in the day, we don't know exactly where we are. Nerves are on edge. We hear strange noises in the gloom, like other ships are about, but they don't answer our hail. Some of the men have been whispering about ghost ships. But it ain't ghosts.
Two bells into the morning watch the fog lifts and swirls away and there is LeFievre's pirate fleet. They don't run. They turn to fight.
We Beat to Quarters and straightaway down on them we fall.
Chapter 34
We are paying dearly for this victory, as victory it shall surely be. Even with a fleet of well-armed boats, LeFievre is foolish to take on a King's ship. His smaller ships, coasters mainly, swarm about us, peppering us with bullets and cannonballs. No thought of prizes here as we are at this time fighting for our very lives. The Master has been hit with chain shot and has been taken below. Most of him. His leg is still lying over there by the wheel and blood once again flows across the deck of the Dolphin. All the decks. I feels the impact of the shells, and I smells the smoke, and I hears the screams from below, and I tries not to think of what could be happenin' down there or what could already have happened. Dear God, please...
LeFievre's smaller ships are soon shattered or sunk, and men and wreckage are all around in the water, but we plows through 'em, headin' for LeFievre's big ships, which lie in a line about a half mile off, all pointin' towards us. His ship, the biggest one, is in the middle of the line, and we can see LeFievre himself, struttin' on the deck, all decked out in fine silks.
"Pride goeth before a fall, LeFievre," says the Captain grimly. "Mr. Haywood, bring her about to take us to the top of their line. The wind will be abaft our beam such that we'll be able to come about again and roll right down their line, raking them with our full broadside, while they can only bring their bow chasers to bear. Do it now, Sir."
"Aye, Sir. Ready about!" he roars, havin' taken over the Master's duties from poor Mr. Greenshaw. "Hard a'lee!" The Dolphin turns.
"I assume they do not hold classes in naval tactics at pirate school," says the Captain.
"If they do," says Mr. Haywood with satisfaction, "Monsieur LeFievre obviously was lax in his studies."
I am a little bit cheered and calmed by their confidence. I try to get my tremblin' under control.
"Hold fire till my order," says the Captain. "Faber, ready with your drum."
Fifteen minutes later, we are in position and we starts our run.
"On my order, fire as they bear!" shouts the Captain. I raises my sticks. The pirates have already realized their mistake and are trying to get about, but it's too late. Their forward guns are shooting at us, but they are causing little damage so far. Then I hears a tiny ting and feel a strange whoosh of wind past my ear and see the ball disappear in the distance. It had nicked my earring.
"Close one, Faber," says the Captain.
I am unable to reply.
"Fire!"
I slams down the sticks and our guns begin to answer theirs, and all take their bloody toll. The pirates, except for LeFievre's flagship, are all converted merchantmen and are poorly armed. Some of them, however, have howitzers mounted, and they shoot a ball so high up in the air that when it comes down, it can go through all your decks and out your bottom. The awful part is that we can see the ball go up and come down and maybe see our own destruction coming.
The jolly boat disappears in a shower of splinters. Someone on the pirate is a lucky shot. That's the last of the boats. The after ones were destroyed early on by shot and the forward ones caught fire from a hot ball. The fire was quickly put out, but the boats were lost. They blaze up right quick 'cause of all the pitch and tar in 'em. We'd better not have to abandon ship, I thinks.
Through all the noise and confusion I have a clear thought of regret. Maybe we're going to die. Both Jaimy and I. Maybe I was stupid to deny us anything. What's it goin' to matter now? Maybe...
Another explosion brings me back to the terror of the moment. One of the pirate ships has exploded and two of them are on fire. One is wallowing and sinking. Men are jumping off. Only LeFievre's flagship is left and it is full of fight. He has managed to bring his ship around and is pouring broadside after broadside into us. LeFievre must be furious with the loss of his fleet, and he means to make us pay.
"In for the kill, Mr. Haywood. We'll take her if we can, sink her if we must."
"Aye, Sir."
Orders are given and we closes with the pirate. His guns are blazin' away and so are ours. We are rocked with a hit on the starboard bow and we knock down his mizzenmast. Then, with a cheer, we see his main teeter all askew and then go down. It should be over. Please let it be over. Please let me go to see if...
"What's he doing there?" The Captain is peering through his glass at the confusion on the other ship.
"It appears he's off-loading treasure into that boat," says the First Mate, fairly licking his lips.
"I can see that," says the Captain with some irritation. "I mean on the other side of his ship. I see a sail sticking up."
Mr. Haywood shifts his glass. "They seem to be loading it with something, too. Maybe it's more treasure."
Although I don't have a telescope, I can see what they're talking about. It's a small boat, with a single sail. One of their lifeboats. Maybe they are trying to save their lives, I thinks. I know I'd be thinkin' that if I was them. Then that boat moves away from the side of the ship and all the pirates run to the remaining lifeboats and get in. How can they possibly hope to get away, I wonders.
I finds out.
The small boat heads straight for our bow. The rudder and the sail are tied down. There is no one in the boat, just piles of black kegs and white bags. And sparkles of fire from the fuses.
"Fireship!" screams the Captain. "Hard left rudder! Clear the fo'c'sle!"
Men pour from the bow of the ship, gunners from the guns, Marines from the masts, men from the anchor locker and the orlop, there's Mr. Lawrence and Davy and...
"Get down!" yells the Captain and hits the deck. I stands there all stupid, and he reaches out and yanks me feet out from under me. Me drum rolls away as I goes down and I see it bounce over the side, but before it does there's this sheet of white light and I see the skin of the drum go all orange and then turn black and gone. Then the blast hits.
I screams out, but I can't hear my own voice and I thinks I screams out Jaimy's name but I don't know 'cause all is lost in the roar of the firestorm.
Chapter 35
It's been three days now and we're still sinking.
LeFievre's fireship blasted a massive hole in the starboard bow. The bowsprit and its netting are gone. The figurehead, the woman with the dolphins, is smouldering splinters. The seas pour into the blackened hole every time we rock in the swells, as the hole is right at the waterline. The carpenter is unable to fix it; it's just too big and too far across. We have tried stretching canvas across the gap, but that is soon ripped off by the force of the sea. The Bo'sun took a bunch of us down in the hold, and we shifted cargo to put a list on the ship so that it leans over enough so that the hole is just out of the water, but the seas still slop in. If we have a storm, we are lost. If we don't get to land, we are lost. If the water level in the hold gets above a certain mark, we are lost.
We are on the pumps every second. Every pump on the ship, big and small, is taken to the forward hold and put in service. It is killing work, and we go in shifts of half hour on, half hour off. We collapse next to our pump, and we sleep next to it. We ship's boys have been given the small deck pump, the one used to hose us off that day long ago. There's only Jaimy, Davy, and me now, as Tink caught a musket ball in his leg and is in sick bay. The bullet didn't hit the bone, so he might not lose the leg if infection don't set in, and we prays that it don't.
We lost eighteen men dead, thirty wounded, in that battle. Henderson was one, he who was a constant friend to me and always looked out for my poor self when I was green. Lafferty, another good one. Both of 'em blown off the fo'c'sle and never seen by earthly eyes again. And Grant, he who could play the fiddle and the concertina, and I can't make myself believe those fingers will move no more. Mr. Barkley, midshipman, one of the younger squeakers, and Joshua Spense, the Kingston man. I'm glad he had that last liberty in his own town. He should have deserted when he had the chance. Not very military of me to think that, but I don't care. I'm too tired.