I stop keening and a coldness comes over me that is stronger than the sickness. "That you should think that, Miss," is all I say and I look up into her face.
"Tacky, no, I'm sorry..." she says, uncertainty now in her eyes. "I didn't mean..."
"That you should think that, Miss," I say again. I begin to get up.
"Please, Tacky, forgive—"
And just at that instant came a pounding on the door and a girl's voice calling, "Miss! Miss! Your mother wants to see you in her chamber right now!"
"Tell her I'll see her in a while!" says Amy, all frantic.
"No, Miss! She wants you right now! She's hoppin' mad, and if you don't come she'll have me beat, she will!"
"All right, all right! Tell her I'll be right there!"
By now I've sat back on my heels and am staring straight forward, saying nothing.
"I must go see what Mother wants, Tacky. Do not leave this room."
"I hear you, Miss," is what I say.
"Please, Tacky, please don't try to leave."
"I hear you, Miss Trevelyne."
"That's not an answer, Tacky, please—"
"Miss, please, now!" the wretched girl pleads and Amy has to follow.
"You sit right there, Jacky. I'll be right back."
When she comes back, she will find me gone.
***
"Millie, you silly dog," I plead, "please go back. You can't go with me. Go back. Shoo, now." But she will have none of it, she just grins her joyous grin and leaps about. Maybe she'll go back when we get farther along.
I plan to walk along the beach till I meet a road and I'll take that road till it meets the Post Road and then I'll head down to New York, as I think that's the best place for me. I sure can't go back to Boston—Clarissa will spread the news of my disgrace at the school and Mistress will surely boot me out, this time for good and ever, and I can't just go down and live at the Pig 'cause the Preacher'd find me there and that'd be the end of me. And I sure can't go back to Dovecote, what with Amy so mad at me. Her mother was prolly calling her upstairs to tell her to get rid of me quick 'cause I was stmkin' up the place. No, New York's the place for me. Maybe they'll be more forgiving of my ways there. I'll worm my way into another tavern and do the music, and I've got my colors and some disks, so maybe I'll do some portraits of sailors to send to their girls. There's letter writing, too, just like my dad used to do and I...
I stop to be sick again. Oh, Lord, if you're gonna take me, please take me now ... This is so awful ... The drink sure tasted better going down than it does coming up. Damn that Clarissa! I had her in flames and now I'm the one that's burnt to the waterline and Oh, my poor head. You sure showed me, Clarissa, just who was the thoroughbred and who was the mutt. I sit down on a rock to rest and I put my throbbing head in my hands. I know, I know, Liam, as you've often said, "'Tis the iron fist 'neath the velvet glove," and it is.
Millie comes up and puts her chin on my knee and looks up at me with her big brown eyes. I put my two hands on the dome of her forehead and I say out loud, "I swear, by the sweet, gentle soul beneath my hands that I will never, ever, take a drink of spirits again. Amen."
I've got a little money in my money belt, but I think I'll be sleeping out tonight. It don't look like rain and I'll have to watch what I spend, 'cause now my plan is to make enough to buy passage to England and see what's up with Jaimy. I can't wait no longer, I got to know, so I can get on with things, no matter which way it goes with him. So I'm sorry, Ephraim and Betsey, sorry that I didn't finish up the Preacher, but he's almost done so maybe you can finish the job yourself and, if not, I hope you can put all that behind you and get married and have lots of fat, happy babies. And Sylvie and Henry, be happy in the company of each other. I'm sorry, Amy, that I couldn't stop Randall from marrying Clarissa, I did what I could but it wasn't enough. I never did really learn to fight like a lady, to fight like Clarissa knows how to fight. She showed me that, for sure. I had my foot on the neck of my enemy yesterday but still she wriggled free and beat me down. And, Amy, I'm sorry that I made a mess of things and brought dishonor to your house and family, and I'm sorry, Randall, that you got hurt in protecting me when I was helpless, I really am. And helpless I was—all my cunning and cleverness gone because of my wanton ways. It's funny that you, Randall, the one who mounted the most ardent assault on my poor virtue, should be the one to save it. I thank you for that. Sorry, Gully, that I left the Lady Lenore back at the school. I thought I'd be back, but now I ain't gonna be. Maybe Amy'll save my stuff—though she sure seemed to hate me last time I saw her, so I don't know. And I'm sorry, Mistress, that I didn't turn out to be a lady. I know you tried.
Dear Millie, why do you leap and bound about so? You've nothing in this world but your hair and hide and bone and your foolish doggie grin and yet you are full of joy and think it just the very best of things to be going down an unknown dusty road with one such as me. Go back now, Millie, you must know I am so very hard on my friends.
I open my seabag to pull out my serving-girl gear, as I think I'll cause less comment that way. Bad enough, a girl alone and on the road, let alone one dressed in a blue party dress. As I'm getting it out, I feel a pang as I spy the bright racing silks all folded up there. Was it only yesterday that I had that triumph on the Sheik and was looking forward to my first ball like any silly girl?
I'm starting to feel better. Maybe I'll live, after all, I thinks as I finish dressing. The weskit feels good cinched up tight against my ribs, my shiv and my whistle nestled in there all snug where they belong.
Millie, will you not go back? No? Ah well, then, stay and herd your one black lamb, as she certainly needs it. Shall we have a tune, then, to cheer us and speed us on our way? What? "The Boys Won't Leave the Girls Alone"? Why, that's one of my favorites, too. A perfect traveling song! What, and you dance, too? You foolish dog, of course you would! All right, here we go...
"I'll tell me ma when I get home,
The boys won't leave the girls alone.
Jacky's fair and Millie's pretty
And they've both gone to New York City!"
Chapter 47
[Delivered to Dovecote on May 21, 1803]
James Emerson Fletcher
On board the Essex
At Sea
April 18, 1804
Miss Jacky Faber, the Best Girl in the World!
Dovecote Farm
Quincy, Massachusetts, USA
Dearest Jacky,
JOY! Pure and absolute joy! The heavens open and pour forth their celestial light, the angelic choruses shout "Hosanna!" and my heart, which was at my feet, leaps to my throat in total joy!
In short, dear one, I got your letter.
Shall I tell you of the way I got it? Yes, I shall, for I have the time, the quill, the ink, and, oh yes! I do have the inclination! Joy!
Anyway, it was an ordinary day—watches, patrols, eat, sleep, more watches, all unrelieved by any thought that you still cared for me—when word comes that Nelson, the great Nelson, himself, will come over today on the Raleigh to visit the Essex!
Well, having spent your time before the mast (and how you were able to endure it, my poor frail creature, I do not know and scarce can think of it, even now), I know you can well imagine the mighty preparations that were made prior to the arrival of the very Hero of the Battle of the Nile. The ship did shine, I can tell you, with every piece of brass at its highest glint, every flag snapping, every man scrubbed pink and in his finest uniform.
The frigate Raleigh, forty-four guns, came by and heaved to, and the great man descended from it into a boat and came alongside, and in a moment was standing on our deck, followed by Captain Fishburne and the senior officers of the Raleigh. I, of course, was drawn up stiff as a ramrod on the quarterdeck, near the rail. Lord Nelson was bowing and shaking hands with our own Captain and I'm drinking in this historic moment when I hear a pssst! Shocked at this breach of etiquette, I look over the side and there, as a member of the boat crew, is our own Brother Davy! The boat's coxswain was looking at him most severely, a look that grew from severe to incredulous as Davy left his oar and scrambled up the ladder and thrust a letter into my hand and whispered, "She said no other hand but yours," and then retreated back down to the boat. The coxswain reached out and backhanded Davy a terrible blow across the face and then settled back down, but I knew that would not be the end of it—I knew he would be flogged when he returned to his ship.
What could be so important as to risk a flogging, I thought, and then I looked at the packet in my hand and saw that it was from you. I was almost unmanned on the spot, almost sinking to my knees in joy and dread, but I did not. I stood there in a high state of agitation for a good twenty minutes while the captains and Lord Nelson exchanged compliments, and then, when it was time for Captain Fishburne and Lord Nelson to return to the Raleigh, I stepped out and said, "Begging your pardon, Sir, but I must have a word with you," thereby ending my naval career, "but Seaman Jones of your ship has just delivered to me a letter from one I hold most dear and I would prefer that he not be flogged for doing that, Sir. If you would be so good."
Captain Fishburne was transfixed in shock and my own Captain Warren was astounded that one of his junior officers could act in such a manner. I was fully convinced that my naval career was over, but, can you believe it, Nelson himself comes over to see what the matter is and says to me, "Explain yourself."
I am afraid I am going to faint dead away from even being spoken to by such an august person, but I manage to blurt out some gibberish the sense of which could barely be made out, but which was, essentially, "My lord, when Seaman Jones and I were boys together on the Dolphin, he and I and several others on the Dolphin came together and formed a Brotherhood, a club, if you will, such as young boys will do, and we swore great oaths of fraternal loyalty and promised ever to be watchful of each other and Seaman Jones here has brought me a letter from one of the group, one who was especially dear to me and from whom I have not heard since she ... er, the person was taken from ... and the person made Jones swear to deliver it to no hand but mine, so you see..."
"Ah," says Lord Nelson, and I say no more. "The Dolphin...Yes, I have heard of that incident. And so you are the young rogue who was involved with the girl, then?"
My face betrays my answer before I could say, "Yes, my lord."
He considered this for a while while I died a thousand deaths over my temerity, my probable punishment, but mostly the pain of waiting, waiting to see what you had writ.
Lord Nelson turned to Captain Fishburne and says, "Do you mind terribly if we grant this young man his wish, John? It is entirely your decision, of course."
"The sailor shall not be flogged, my lord," said good Captain Fishburne. What else could he say?
"And Captain Warren," said Nelson, turning to my own Captain, "would you be so good as to assign this young man to my staff when I return to this area?" My captain nods and Lord Nelson continues, "Good. I like to have about me men who are bold in the defense of their friends and are handy with the ladies." He paused. "Then what shall be your punishment, Mr....ah, Mr. Fletcher, for some punishment you must surely get, having broken sacred naval tradition. Hmmm. I suppose it shall be the usual one: Up to the foretop, Mr. Fletcher, and do not come down till the bell rings for the second dog watch."