I sense Jared standing beside me. "You must think of yourself. I know you planned to jump ship when we spotted England. I heard the terms of your parole and I know you. Why don't we just put you in a boat and have you sail back to your little schooner?"
"I did plan that, Joseph," I say. "But then it would have been an escape. Now it would be desertion and I just can't do it. I can't leave my friends in this fix if I can do anything to help them. Let's just go on and see what happens."
He nods and I say, "Let's show them we still have teeth. Bring her around to starboard."
"Right Full Rudder," he says to the helmsman, and the man at the wheel puts her over. The Dauntless presents her broadside to the enemy and I yell, "Starboard guns, fire!"
There is a great rippling Craaack! as the mighty cannons fire. I look out with my glass and see that one of the enemy frigates has lost its foremast. That'll slow 'em down a bit, for sure!
"Left now, Joseph," I say, and he gives the order and the port guns come to bear.
"Fire!" I screech, and the port broadside roars out.
I look through the glass at the relentless enemy and, alas, see neither great damage nor a slackening of their pursuit.
I snap the telescope back together. "Rudder amidships. Steer dead north. Bo'sun, dump the guns, all except the Long Toms."
There is nothing a man-of-war hates to do more than throw its guns overboard, but there are some times when it is necessary. There are twenty-one guns along each side and each of them weighs two thousand pounds. If we can fly faster and get to safety, we can get more guns—after all, they are but dumb iron brutes and there are many forges that make them, but the ship and its crew are much more difficult to replace. There are seven enemy ships and one of us, so it is not even a contest. We must run, and run as swiftly as we can.
The gunports are opened and the cannons are tipped out to disappear under the waves. Without all that weight, the Dauntless leaps forward.
"Let's see them catch us now," I exult as we pull away. As soon as this ship is safely tucked in Britannia's waters and we spot the land and my parole is over, then I will take Jared up on his offer of a lifeboat that will take me back to the Nancy B.
"On deck there!" comes the call from above. "Ship dead ahead!"
Good God, what's this?
Again I grab the glass and head to the top to stand next to Davy, who is looking very worried.
"I think she's Dutch," says Davy, a long glass to his own eye. "And we are in a fine mess. Give Annie my regards if you ever see her again."
"Damn!" I mutter, letting fly a string of curses. The Dutch are close allies of the French, and we are once again in a fine fix—now cut off to the north, as well as the east and south and with most of our guns gone. I race hand over hand back down to the quarterdeck.
"Joseph, there is a Dutchman dead ahead. I say we charge right through her. Maybe take her by surprise."
"I don't see as we've got any other choice," he says. It seems he is fully recovered, and his cocky grin is back in place even in the face of this disaster. "Full speed ahead, Puss, and the Devil take the hindmost."
"Who's on the bow chaser?"
"Hutchinson. He's good."
"Um. Well, tell him to get ready, and to fire when the Dutchman comes in range."
"He's ready, believe me," says Jared, and he sends a messenger forward with the order to fire.
"All right. Here we go." And the Dauntless surges forward to whatever awaits her.
Half an hour later, our bow chaser barks out its first challenge. The shot goes wide and Hutchinson and his crew quickly reload and fire again, as the Dutchman gets within a hundred yards of us. She does not respond with her own bow gun, but instead turns her head slowly, almost leisurely to the left, and then fires a full broadside right into us.
Four hundred and fifty pounds of metal tear into the Dauntless. Men scream and fall from the rigging as the top of the mainmast shears off and falls to the deck. From behind us, one of the Frenchmen gets off a broadside of its own and our rudder is shattered.
We are helpless.
"It's over," I say to Jared and leap back to the flagstaff. The colors wrap around me as I haul them down.
I surrender the ship.
Chapter 10
Three days later we are in the French prison at Cherbourg, at the mouth of the Seine, the river that flows past Paris as well as past the Emperor Napoléon and his legions.
After I had struck the Dauntless's colors, one of the French frigates came alongside with grapples and made us fast. French sailors and Marines swarmed aboard and began stripping our crew of their weapons and herding the men down into the main cargo hold—those who could walk, anyway. The wounded were taken to the Doctor's surgery. The dead were thrown overboard without proper ceremony. Private Marsten was one of them, and it saddened me greatly, for I had grown very attached to my Marines. Go to God, Adam. I hope good quarters are waiting to welcome you.
But the time for grief would have to be later, as things needed to be done.
Jared and I stood on the quarterdeck and waited for the French Commander to appear. While we waited for him, I sent for the Captain's sword to be brought up, and so it was. I took it and laid it across his chest. I also ripped all the lieutenant's gold braid from my lapels and flung it over the side, demoting myself once more to midshipman.
Mr. Jared observed me doing this so I explained to him, "Joseph, this is serious. I must be known as Midshipman Jack ... er ... Kemp, as my cheeks are too downy to pass for any lieutenant. The French must not find out that I am female, else I am lost. They will examine me and put two and two together and figure out that I am their Jeune Fille sans Merci, the cruel girl pirate, and when that happens my head will soon fall into a basket. You must help me."
"Aye. I will spread that word amongst the crew when I am put down in the hatch with the rest of them, which is sure to be soon, and I'll let them know that I will kill any of them who would give you up. And that goes for the officers, too, when they recover," he said, turning to me with the old cocky grin back in place. "And I would take a kiss right now for my troubles, were it not for the fact that we are sure to be watched by that Frenchy standing right there, and it wouldn't look good for me to be bending a midshipman over and..."
"No, it would not, Joseph."
"A pity, Puss, for it will surely be the last kiss I'll ever receive from anybody for a good long while." I know the truth of this, for while captains and senior lieutenants are routinely freed in prisoner exchanges, mere warrant officers almost never are. Jared is looking at confinement till the end of the war, and that does not seem to be coming soon.
At last the French Squadron Commander bounded aboard, a short, pudgy little man who could scarcely conceal his delight. A prize! I knew he was thinking, A British warship! How this shall benefit both my pocketbook and my reputation! I shall surely be made Admiral!
As I advanced to meet him, I bowed and said, "Midshipman Jack Kemp, à votre service, Capitaine."
He looked at me in wonder and said, "What is this? A mere boy?"
I swept my hand toward our recumbent Captain and continued, "Permettez-moi à vous présenter, Capitaine Hannibal Hudson, le Commandant du HMS Dauntless."
"Le pauvre homme!" said the Frenchy, seemingly concerned with our Captain's well-being. That's how it goes with these things—you try your best to murder each other when the action is ongoing, and then, when it's over, it's back to good manners again. "J'espère que..."
"Your hope that the expert gunnery of your ships did not bring our Captain low," I replied in French, "that is most gracious and kind. Mais, non, you may set your mind at ease—it was a fish."
"Du poisson?"
"Oui, Monsieur, du mauvais poisson," said I. "The ship's officers were overcome with a sickness after having partaken of a fish that had turned against us. HMS Dauntless, distinguished in many a heroic battle, was brought down by a fish. Had the officers been at their best, you would have had a much harder time taking us. As you say, I am but a boy, and I did what I could, but..."
He looked me over. "You did well, young man. You have nothing to be ashamed of," he said, giving me a curt bow. "I am Captain Jules Renaud, at your service."
I returned the bow and went over to Captain Hudson to pick up his sword to present it to Captain Renaud. He took it but shook his head and laid it back down on the Captain's chest.
"No, let the poor man keep his sword. It may give him some comfort when he awakens to find his ship and his command gone," said this Captain Renaud, who did not seem to be a bad sort. "Ha! So, a fine kettle of fish it was, as you English say. You should have carried a French cook, my lad." He laughed, shaking a pudgy finger in my face. "He would have known how to tell a good fish from a bad one!"
After the pleasantries were over, I, too, was put down into the hold.
Both the Doctor and I were by the Captain's side when he woke up deep in the darkness of his own hold. He took the bitter news a lot better than I would have, had I been in his place. He recovered quickly from his sickness, as did the other officers over the next few days.
All of us had been crammed into the hold, officers and men alike, but, as always, accommodations are made, and territories are mapped out—the Captain and the senior lieutenants aft, and the men spread out forward. I sought out Davy and found him to be safe, thank God, and rejoiced in his company during the day, but I spent the nights curled up next to Joseph Jared, his arm about my shoulders and my face upon his chest, giving me great comfort in my distress. I was so close to gaining my freedom, and going back to my life, and now this. The fortunes of war is how the Captain put it in his philosophical way, and I am forced to agree, but I have a lot more to lose than any of the rest of them if I am found out.
I woke up each morning of our journey, from seaborne captivity to a land prison, with my face buried in the nape of Joseph Jared's neck, a fact not missed by a certain member of the Intelligence Service. Bliffil was never far away, he who had hidden during the battle and had emerged only after it was over, wearing a lieutenant's jacket and hat to keep from being branded a spy. He considers me a prize, I realize, as he sits propped up against the hull of the ship, always, always watching as if he owned me. And, as it turns out later, he does.
Captain Renaud invited Captain Hudson up for dinner each night after he had recovered from his case of mauvais poisson, and I went with him, but not as a guest, for I am a mere midshipman—no, it was as translator, for Captain Hudson's French is not good. So, instead of sitting at the table and partaking of the wonderful spread of food out there in front of me, I stood at Attention behind my Captain's chair, and spoke only when necessary. It was exquisite torture, given my appetite, but I managed to endure.
When we reached France, however, all the pleasantries were over and we were taken, Captain, officers, and men, and stuffed down into a foul prison.
Chapter 11
The prison at Cherbourg is built in the shape of a U, with the men being put in one wing of the jail, and the officers in another. We are, of course, not the only ones here. There are some who have been in this prison for months, even years, poor buggers.