by Peter Greene
“Yes, Steward,” said Harrison, “the Captain is truly a wizard with words. We can only aspire to be so grand when it is our turn to lead!”
Jonathan laughed nervously, but he remembered being in front of the dragon on more than one occasion, and though his dislike for Spears was almost as great as Captain Walker’s wrath, he still could not listen and moved with Koonts to the gangway to offer his assistance.
Sean was already making his way up the plank, carrying additional supplies with a few marines, mostly powder in small kegs and boxes of lead for bullets. He was working quite hard, sweating in the sun, so Jonathan removed his coat and assisted in the lifting. Koonts opened his great book and began tallying the items that were coming aboard.
“Yes, Sean, come right up,” he said. “Let’s get these last supplies aboard and cast off as soon as we can. Don’t want to upset the Captain.”
“Seems like he’s already upset to me!” said Sean, putting down the last of his boxes and removing his cap to wipe the sweat from his brow.
A voice called out from below. The Ladies Dowdeswell had appeared in their best clothes, though it was clear that Delain was still ill and leaned on her sister Rebecca for assistance. They were accompanied by several servants at the foot of the dock, carrying their many bags, packages, and even more boxes of supplies and possessions.
“Ahoy, Lieutenant Harrison,” called Rebecca. “Is there any offer of assistance we can receive? We do not know our way around the Drake and could use your guidance on the storage of our belongings!”
“Ah,” said Harrison softly, “ladies in distress! Come Moore, Flagon. To the rescue.”
They left the rest of the supplies to the marines and hands and began down the gangway, happy to be off the Danielle for a few minutes to escape the Captain and to also spend a few last moments with the Governor’s daughters.
The girls were pleased to see that the Drake had undergone a somewhat miraculous change, now being almost presentable as a ship of His Majesty’s Navy. It was far from being the shining example of cleanliness and efficiency as was the Danielle; however, many men were still working, cleaning, mending, and polishing the small ship.
“By the time you reach England,” Sean said in his most proper English, trying to imitate the King, “she will look spa-len-did!”
Jonathan led the way to what used to be Lieutenant Blake’s cabin. The sisters selected a few of the essentials from their packages and bags, then dismissed the servants to store the rest below. They all moved excitedly, except for Delain, who immediately sat on a make-shift bed that had been created from spare lumber and covered by a small mattress made of sailcloth and stuffed with extra fabric. She seemed sleepy and even looked about nervously for a while. As the others chatted and chirped with excitement about the ship, the journey, and of course, the wonderfulness of soon living in the largest city of the King’s empire, Delain sat quietly.
“Miss Dowdeswell,” Jonathan said as he stood by her side. “I am concerned about your state of health. Are you well enough to travel? You are so quiet and still. It is not like you, I must say.”
“I am sorry, Jonathan,” she said. “I just feel a little under the weather.”
Jonathan nodded and smiled a bit.
“Maybe a last stroll around the Danielle before we must leave would do me some good, I love her so,” Delain added. “Could that be arranged for my sisters and me?”
“Of course!” said Jonathan. “However, we had better hurry, as the Danielle is set to cast off within the hour.”
The ladies accompanied Jonathan, Harrison, and Sean about the deck of the Danielle, enjoying each other’s company and watching the crew work quickly to prepare the ship for the open sea. After a few minutes, however, Delain said she was feeling refreshed and better, though still a bit tired, and begged leave to go back to the Drake and sleep. She had Jonathan and Penelope escort her to the gangway. Before she turned to go, she asked her sister for a “little privacy.” Penelope smiled and obliged by walking down the plank to wait silently by the last few boxes and crates sitting upon the dock. Mr. Koonts stood nearby, checking his giant book, making sure all was accounted for. He noticed Jonathan and Delain, nodded his head, and also turned about, heading back to the wheel to discuss something of obvious importance with Mr. Watt. Now and again he would look back at Jonathan and Delain and smile. Watt actually cracked what could be mistaken for a grin as he also glanced at the couple.
“Well then, Miss Dowdeswell,” Jonathan said.
“Please call me Delain,” she said. “It seems that we have been through so much together, I would think we can progress to first names, don’t you?”
“One never wants to be too forward, Miss Dowdeswell, and of course, I am in uniform and must display some sense of decorum in front of the crew. But, as you wish, Delain.”
This made them both smile and Jonathan almost reached for her hand, yet stopped, realizing that no fewer than one hundred people were most likely watching them as if they were on stage in an outdoor theater. A quick glance about showed him that it was difficult to find a face not staring at them. Even Steward was watching, like a proud mother hen. The only faces he did not see, to his pleasure, were those of Midshipman Spears and Captain Walker.
“I wonder when the Danielle will be back in London. Do you know?” asked Delain.
“I am not sure. Our mission has not been announced to me, so I have no way of knowing. It is at this point a mystery, but it involves the pirate Kozak, I am sure. Assuming the worst, I could only hope to return by autumn at the latest.”
“A long voyage. I wish you luck, Jonathan,” said Delain, somewhat sadly. She pouted ever so slightly.
“If it would be agreeable, I would like to call upon you when I return, Delain.”
Delain smiled once again and fingered her necklace, playing with the beautiful dolphin dangling on a silver chain that Jonathan had given her.
“Possibly we could try iced cream?” she asked. “I have never had any.”
“Absolutely, Miss Dowdeswell.”
“I look forward to it with great anticipation, Mr. Moore,” she said as she lightly brushed his hand with hers. With that she turned away, and Jonathan, not wanting her to see the redness in his face, also turned and walked back to his duties.
At the bottom of the gangplank, Penelope awaited her sister with a smile.
“That was a pretty scene, Delain,” her sister said. “Did he agree to visit you in London?”
“Of course!” Delain said happily. “He is a gentleman, and a wise one at that.”
“You are a caution, Delain!” Penelope said. “Back to the Drake, I presume? You do look a little flushed.”
They both laughed as if this was a joke of which only they were aware, and after a quick look around, Delain said almost too loudly, “Oh, dear me! I have forgotten my brooch! I will retrieve it from Rebecca and meet you back on the Drake.”
“I will prepare your bed, dear sister,” said Penelope.
With that, the girls parted, Delain returning to the Danielle amidst the hurry and activity, and Penelope to the Drake and the confines of the Captain’s cabin.
* * * * *
Captain Walker called for a discussion with his officers in his cabin during the final few minutes before the ships were to depart Nassau. Specifically, they discussed the mission of both the Danielle and the Drake. Steward laid out a bit of fresh milk for Jonathan and Spears, along with coffee and a few plain cakes on a platter. No anchovies could be seen by the Captain and he frowned, saying:
“Where are the anchovies, Steward?”
“Sorry, Cap’n,” Steward said. “We had a few, as ya know, but they’re all eaten. No more around these parts today. Must ‘ave returned to Peru, or they’re hidin’.”
Harrison smiled as he bit into one of the cakes from the platter.
“There is a foul taste in these cakes. Maybe they are hiding in here?”
Jonathan tried not to laugh, yet a burst d
id escape his lips and this made Steward frown all the more.
“And now to the business at hand,” continued Captain Walker, seriously. “Lieutenant Blake, is the Drake ready to sail?”
“Aye, Captain,” Blake said. “Stores are loaded, the crew is accounted for, and I have Smith, Jones, and Johnson inspecting the guns as we speak. We have ammunition enough if we require it.”
“Speed is your best weapon, Mr. Blake. Remember that you have the daughters of the Governor to deliver as your primary mission.”
“Yes, sir,” Blake answered, now assuming his part in the discussion was over and that he could now attend to the plates of cakes and cups of coffee. He was quite hungry, as he had been up most of the night preparing for the voyage and had only a few short naps between duties, though no food whatsoever.
“Now on to the mission of the Danielle,” said the Captain, and all ears perked up. “As you may have heard, our guest, Captain Kozak, has told us that a French fleet of merchant ships are sailing from the Far East with a very large cargo of cannon for Napoleon’s army. He states they are accompanied by only two thirty-six gun frigates. We need to confirm this story.”
The Captain paused to refill his cup with more of the hot steaming brew and also to at least take a cake, as he finally had come to accept there were not to be any anchovies.
Jonathan wondered just how they would confirm Kozak’s story. He was a pirate, after all, and probably a criminal in many other ways. How could he be trusted? As if to answer, Walker continued.
“Kozak claims there is a manifest in a fort at Rio Muni, on the western coast of Africa. Our mission is to locate the manifest, confirm the story, and if true, we will proceed to intercept the ships. Steward! Is there at least any toasted cheese?”
As Steward magically appeared with a steaming plate of toasted cheese, Koonts set his cup down and cleared his throat. “If I may, Captain?”
“Please,” Walker replied, taking a bit of cheese to his plate and slicing off a small piece to nibble.
“Thank you,” said Koonts. “I do recall that Kozak mentioned there were at least six merchant ships in the fleet? Even if we can defeat the two frigates, which I have no problem agreeing that it is in our favor to accomplish, the merchant ships will scatter! It will be nearly impossible to find them after engaging the frigates.”
“True,” said Holtz. All waited for him to say more; however, he did not.
“That is where Lieutenant Blake comes in,” answered the Captain.
Blake looked up from his cake and coffee and the one piece of toasted cheese he dared take, surprised that he was still in the conversation.
“As the Drake sails towards England, she will alert any British ships she encounters to tell of our mission and ask them to assist. Meanwhile, we will sail southeast, to resupply in the Cape Verde Islands. We may find some assistance there as well.”
“Cape Verde?” asked Koonts. “Are we to bypass the Canary Islands? They are much closer, as the Captain is aware.”
“Thank you, Mr. Koonts,” said Walker, only slightly irritated at being questioned. “The Cape Verde Islands are in a more direct line than the Canaries, as we are heading to the central coast of Africa. As well, Marine Captain Gorman is possibly still there and we can always use his assistance.”
“I am sure Gorman can assist us in locating the manifest at Rio Muni,” added Harrison. “That would substantiate Kozak’s story.”
“Precisely,” said Walker. “We can combine with whatever assistance we find at Cape Verde or that which Lieutenant Blake sends our way. We attack the frigates while our sister ships either sink or take the merchants. Do you understand your part, Lieutenant Blake?”
“Aye, sir,” Blake said. “I will look for assistance as I sail on to England and refer them to the Cape Verde Islands.”
“Yes. We will anchor off the port town of Ribeira Grande, on the south side of the Island of Santiago,” said Walker. “If we are not there, Blake, instruct all you meet to proceed down the coast of Africa to the Cape of Good Hope. That is where I expect to meet the French and their Chinese cannon by the strait.”
“Yes, sir,” Blake said. “I will alert all to your need.”
This all seemed to make sense to Jonathan, except the part about the fort and the manifest, the list that would prove Kozak’s story. How were they going to get into the fort? And then, as he remembered, into the office of the Generalissimo?
The officers continued discussing particulars of the plan as they ate, and as the food ran out, so did the conversation. Finally the Captain spoke, dismissing all.
“Then let us hope Lieutenant Blake encounters a few fast ships and the word is spread quickly to the fleet. If there is nothing else, then let us delay no longer. Holtz, please ring the bell. Good luck and Godspeed to all.”
On the main deck, the bell rang just as Jonathan and Harrison joined Sean and the remaining Dowdeswell girls.
“Is Delain feeling better?” asked Jonathan.
“Oh, much better, Mr. Moore, thank you for asking,” Penelope answered. “She is sleeping like a baby.”
Just then Steward happened by, calling out orders to a few of the crew and then addressing the Governor’s daughters.
“Ladies, it’s time to depart! Board your chariot to London, HMS Drake. We all hope to see you there soon—right, boys?”
The boys all agreed and walked the ladies to the gangway, avoiding the last few crates and barrels being loaded by the crew.
“Aren’t we missing one?” asked Steward innocently. “I don’t see Miss Delain.”
“She is already aboard the Drake, in a deep slumber, Mr. Steward,” said Rebecca. “We will make sure she is tucked in. Please be careful and return safely to port. We wish you all farewell.”
They all shook hands politely, and even Sean held Penelope’s hand for an extra moment or two, smiling and looking at the deck in embarrassment, shuffling his feet.
“Mr. Flagon,” Penelope said, “I will see you in London, I hope?”
“Oh! By all means!” Sean said excitedly. “Though I am originally from Ireland, London is now my hometown! I will be glad to show you around upon my return.”
“And hopefully you will show her some of the finer areas, Flagon,” added Harrison, who smiled deeply at Rebecca, causing her to turn almost as red as the Captain did from time to time—though in joy, not anger.
“Until our reunion, Miss Rebecca?” Harrison asked softly, boldly holding the eldest Dowdeswell’s hand.
“Until then,” Rebecca answered, and touched Harrison’s cheek ever so gently.
As the ladies left, Steward just shook his head.
“Ah, Cupid’s arrows strike deeply upon departure, the poets say!”
HMS Danielle departed Nassau to little fanfare, as did HMS Drake. The Governor wished his daughters well from the dock, Lady Dowdeswell blowing kisses to Penelope and Rebecca and worrying visibly about Delain, who was still ill.
As the sun washed golden sparkles along the top of the calm sea, the Drake and Danielle let down all sail, sheeted home by tightening all attending lines, and within a few minutes were racing eastward with a strong wind at their backs and nothing but open sea ahead. It seemed a contest to all who watched the ships from shore, though within a minute or two, the Drake, with its much lighter load and smaller draft, surged ahead, and within another few minutes, it was gone from sight.
Walker stood on the poop deck and enjoyed the sunshine in his face and the breeze at his back. Alone at last, he could take pleasure in some solitude and be with his thoughts. Now in the midst of a real mission, he was content and engaged.
Click . . . click . . . clickity-click . . . came the sound of rattling.
“Good Lord!” he exclaimed aloud, scaring a few crew members, even the stone-like Mr. Watt who was nearby. “Where in the bloody blue blazes is that coming from?”
He stood still once again and listened. The sound was clearly louder than it had ever been before and now it
was unmistakably coming from behind him. Walker turned and walked to the stern rail, closed his eyes and listened.
Click . . . click . . . clickity-click . . .
He looked down as the sound was coming from right below him. There he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He could make out the windows of his cabin and the rudder deep below. There were no ropes or loose boards he could see. Then he heard the sound again.
Click . . . click . . . clickity-click – click – click – click.
“Blast it!” he yelled, then noticed movement. A board was separated an inch or so from the stern of the ship. The placard? That infernal plate reading HMS Doggard? It was loose—in fact, very much so. It looked as if one side was about to fall off.
As he stared at the board he could tell that it had been placed over the original ‘Danielle’ plaque and was held on by only four wooden screws. And as he leaned over the side to take a closer look, he saw there were scrapes and gouges about the corners of the plank, as if someone had been trying to unfasten it, or chip it away.
Someone is defacing the ship! the Captain thought. They must be stopped! Of all the outrageous behaviors! It is truly juvenile! I must have the carpenter fix that plaque before it falls off! And then he caught himself. What am I thinking? I hate that infernal name! Should I ignore this, it will probably fall off in a few days and we will be the Danielle outwardly as well as inwardly. Though I do love a mystery, I will keep this one to myself and avoid solving it!
Something else that was kept a secret was the fact that there was a stowaway aboard HMS Danielle, and of course, only one person knew of that fact: the stowaway. Hiding in the larger of the two jolly boats at first seemed like a good idea. It was spacious, bigger than most bedrooms in houses, though not quite as comfortable. There was no bed, no linens, and no pillows. There was, however, rope and tarp and even some small tools that were probably needed by the men who used the boats.
And that raised a concern. What if they were to need this boat? thought the stowaway. I would be discovered directly, and it is not time yet for that! We are too close to the islands and I would be put off in a day’s time. I must wait until we have been at sea for at least three or four weeks. I believe it should take that long to reach Spain and then make a good distance to the south along the African Coast. Amazing, even if my first view is from peeking under this tarp! But it keeps me dry and reasonably warm. This rope, if I take time, can be fashioned into a bed of sorts, and maybe these tools can be of use. This old bucket in the corner can be used as a bed pan!
