The ship lay by the wharf. It looked to be a Dutch fluyt, or a copy of one. Sailors and dock workers were loading cobbles into half-barrels, rolling them onto cargo nets, and hoisting them with a small crane from the wharf into the hold. Harry sought out the man overseeing the process. "Captain Johnson?"
"Yes?"
"I would like to take passage to the continent with you."
"And who tells you I am heading for the continent?"
"It is well known here in town that you leave tomorrow morning. I can pay for my passage."
"If I am going anywhere. You did not even ask where I am bound."
"Very well, then: where are you going?"
"That's none of your business."
Harry began to lose patience. "Let us not continue this business of fencing with words. You and I both know that you would not have the authorities see you arrive, and I would not have them see me leave. Shall we leave it at that? Good. You go in ballast, which earns you nothing. I do not know where you are bound, but I can guess that it is somewhere on the continent. Since they have sufficient sand and cobblestones for their ordinary use, I suppose that you go there to load cargo, not to discharge it. I offer you an opportunity to make a bit of money on the unprofitable part of your voyage. It costs you nothing except the use of a spare hammock and a little food. You owe nothing to the merchants for it. Do you think I am going to turn you over to the king's agents? How could I do that when we have sailed away from those agents? And I have seen nothing unlawful, remember. No law prohibits the export of stones from England, and no customs duties are charged. Perhaps if you kept up this trade for ten thousand years or so, England might have one county less and France one county more, but that is not our concern for today. Now, captain, shall we discuss the fee?"
****
He met the captain at the wharf the next morning. "Utterly foul weather. Are you certain it is safe?"
"Safe? Nothing we do is safe, sir, and very few things are certain. Foul weather keeps those indoors I had rather not meet, and the wind is fair for the continent. It will blow over by tomorrow morning, you'll see."
Harry's coat had stood the rain for a while, but now was wet through, and the brim of his hat collected water that poured out when he looked up or down. He went up the gangplank, took two steps on the wet deck, and slipped, landing on his rump. He glared at the grinning sailors and pulled himself back to his feet. The sailors went back to work turning their capstans, one at either end of the boat. They had dropped anchors away from the wharf when they arrived. Now, they were kedging the ship away from the wharf by drawing against the anchors, with the ebbing tide assisting. Once they were well clear of the wharf, the topsails were set, then the main and mizzen.
"A fine day in England, isn't it, sir?" said a sailor, once the anchors were aboard. "Follow me, sir, and we'll have you out of the weather." He led Harry to the captain's cabin. Harry stayed there the rest of the morning, reading, praying, and making up cartridges.
The captain arrived at noon, followed by a sailor with food. "How do you do, sir. It looks as though you have your sea legs already."
"Yes, thank you captain. Tell me something, though. I saw you took on a little cargo at Rye, but also some ballast. Do you always travel lighter one way than the other?"
"You are very observant, sir. We bring a load of woolen cloth to Cherbourg, and sometimes find things there much in demand in England."
"I wonder if it might interest you to make this leg of the voyage a little more profitable. There are those who would like to make the crossing without attracting the attention of some of the same men you prefer to avoid. Other than myself, of course."
"Some others not seeking to be noticed, then."
"Something like that. These are troubled times, and one cannot blame all those who feel unsafe. I am not speaking of criminals, mind you, but men of quality who might find the continent more to their liking for a while. Some who may have fallen out of favor, shall we say, through no evil deeds of their own."
"It sounds like a dangerous trade."
"Oh, surely you have faced danger, captain, and will do so again."
"That is true, but not without good reason."
"I am sure we can find reason enough."
The captain smiled. "I am sure we can."
****
Harry slept uneasily in the captain's cabin. The constant motion of the ship got into his dreams, and he dreamt of being taken and shaken by a giant hand. Sometime in the night, he came awake. There was someone in the cabin. The captain's bunk was empty, and Harry had seen him leave. He heard the creaking of the ship’s timbers, the slap of a line against a spar, the rush of water in the wake, and the faint scuffing sound of a barefoot man finding his way in the dark. There was a little moonlight seeping through the shutters, just enough to make out a shape. Harry slowly pulled his revolver from under his rolled-up coat that served as a pillow. When it was clear, he cocked the hammer. Whoever it was, the sound stopped him. "Who are you, and why should I not shoot you? Be brief," Harry said.
"Please, sir!" the other replied.
"Not that brief. Persuade me not to kill you. Otherwise, I assure you, you will be dead, someone will drag your carcass out, and I will go back to sleep."
"Oh, no, sir, please!"
"Hmm. Another Cicero for eloquence. Never mind. Kneel down and place your hands upon your head." Harry saw the shape move and heard the thump of the man's knees on the deck and a clatter. He edged past him, then unlatched and opened the shutters. His prisoner was a ragged sailor. A dagger lay on the deck before him. No honest sailor's sheepsfoot blade, but an assassin's dagger. Harry picked it up, then stepped back. "Now," he said, "turn around. You will open the door slowly and go out." The sailor, eyes staring wide, did as he was told. "Wait!" said Harry. "One more thing." Harry transferred the revolver to his left hand, taking the sailor's knife in his right. It would not do to show weakness to this pack of scoundrels, but Harry did not want to take a life. He drove the point of the dagger through the man's ear, then snatched it away from his head. The man shrieked. "Be thankful it was your ear, not your neck, as you deserved. I have notched your ear like a pig, so I will know you again. If you ever see me, run for your life. Now open the door."
Harry peered past the sailor. As he expected, Captain Johnson stood beyond him on the deck with a sword in his hand. "Captain," said Harry, "I had understood that my passage was to Cherbourg, not just halfway there."
"Yes, sir, well …"
"Never mind. Our terms have changed, obviously. I will remain in your cabin for the rest of the voyage, while you make arrangements for your comfort elsewhere. Have the cook send up some bread and cheese. No one will enter. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, you damned whoreson puppy!"
Harry kicked the sailor away and slammed the door. Or hatch. Whatever.
Captain Johnson said, "Listen to me, young fellow. You'll have us all up on the rocks if I cannot navigate. My charts and my instruments are in there."
"Describe them to me, then," Harry said. Harry found the back-staff, astrolabe, logbook, and charts, and passed them out to the captain.
"You will have to come out of there sooner or later, young fellow," growled Captain Johnson. "We shall settle our accounts when you do."
Harry spent the day and next night in the cabin. He even managed to sleep a little. He was reasonably safe in the captain's cabin; it had a stout bar fitted against the door, in case the captain needed refuge. With his revolvers ever near at hand, he could guard the two means of access against a fixed number of attackers. That was alright for now, but he wondered how he would get off the ship. He would be vulnerable from all sides outside the cabin. Once they were docked, Captain Johnson might alert an English agent, or a French guard, or pay a dockside tough. The voyage to Cherbourg should take about three days and two nights, Harry estimated. He must be ready to move today. Captain Johnson must surely be turning the possibilities over in his own mind.
That was the chance he needed. Smiling now, he wrote a note, placed some coins on it, and waited for the boat's approach. As the sailors aboard the ship caught the thrown line, Harry flung the door open and raced to the bow of the ship, and then jumped into the boat. To the oarsmen, Harry said in French, "My good men, you will be dry after your exertions. If you pull for the shore with a good will, here is something to wet your muzzles," and held up a couple of silver shillings, a bargain price for an hour's head start. The oarsmen grinned and put their backs into rowing, ignoring the shouts from the ship.
As the boat pulled away, Harry hailed the ship. "Captain Johnson, I have settled my account. Look in your cabin. Goodbye!"
Captain Johnson considered lowering the ship's launch, but there was no way of overtaking Harry. Instead, he went to his cabin. There were three pound coins and a note. The note read "Captain Johnson, here is the fare we agreed upon. If we meet again, please bear in mind that I pay my debts, in blood or money. Yours, etc., H. Vane."
Reed & Kathy Sue
by Bjorn Hasseler
Our House, Grantville
Tuesday, June 12, 1635
Dear Reed,
I miss you so much already. Wish you could have stayed, but they need you. I'm so proud of you.
Thank you so much for moving us back to Grantville. It was a hassle you didn't need just before you deployed, but I appreciate it so much. Lydia and Thomas do, too. We went for a walk around town—your mom and the kids and I. Grantville has changed so much just this past year! But Lydia recognized the park. She, Thomas, and Mark had a ball. Well, up until she met another little girl and told her she'd just turned six. Apparently the girl told Lydia that she's not really six yet, because "up-timers skipped whole years." She was all worried about not being allowed to go to first grade. Once we got home, and I got Mark and Mary down for a nap, we looked at the calendar. I showed her that we skipped ahead only fifty-three days. She was very excited about counting fifty-three days on the calendar.
I think Mark is developing faster than Lydia and Thomas did, probably because Thomas is "helping" him "grow up" so much. I've reminded Thomas that Mark isn't even two yet, and he just can't do everything Thomas can, yet. These two are going to be a handful when they get older.
Mary is doing great. She woke up only once the last two nights in a row. So I'm not quite a zombie. By number four, it's practically routine. Being a stay-at-home mom in the seventeenth century is a ton of work, but every once in a while I wouldn't mind finding something I could do from home. The girls who are renting from us are all perfect dears. Anna Maria and Rosina are so happy to have the kids around again. I'm still getting to know Magdalena but Anna Maria and Rosina both said she's fitting in fine.
They were nice enough to keep an eye on the kids for half an hour last night while I went for a run. Two miles. It's great to start getting back in shape. Magdalena asked me if I was going out in public dressed like that. T-shirt and shorts.
Your mom has the victory garden all in. Your Aunt Janet and Uncle Freeman stopped by and gave us a lot of seeds. Lydia helped. Thomas and Mark mostly played in the dirt. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have running hot and cold water in the bathtub. As soon as all four kids were in bed, I had a bath, too.
A memory—I remember when we first bought the house and moved everything over from the apartment in one day and stacked so much on the bed we ended up in sleeping bags on the carpet the first night. I was so disoriented when I woke up.
A verse—Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."
Be careful, Reed. The whole town knows war is coming.
I love you. ♥
Kathy Sue
****
Camp Halle
Monday, July 2, 1635
Dear Kathy Sue,
How are you and the kids? Are you sure you're okay? Not overdoing it?
Hi, Lydia. Hi, Thomas. Hi, Mark. Hi, Mary. I'm in camp. We live in a big tent and eat outdoors. Daddy misses you. Hugs and kisses.
Your letter came Saturday. That was pretty fast. I'm afraid it's going to slow way down once we start moving. Having stamps again is great. The little things, right?
I preached yesterday. Nothing fancy—I'm not interested in lecturing on who believes what about which issue, and I don't know all that stuff, anyway. Just focusing on Jesus. I told them I've got a Lutherbibel, a NASB, and a Strong's concordance. I'll do my best to explain a passage, and if anyone else wants a turn, they're welcome to it. Jimmy Dunn, Charlie McDow, Hans Moschel, and Alexander Ebenhöch all came. Still can't get Bruce Reynolds to come out. A few others checked us out, too.
Two Bibles and a concordance gives me a nice heavy pack to run with, so maybe by the time I get home, I'll be able to keep up with you. Sorry I missed the bath, though.
I'm doing what I do. It's pretty much the hardware store all over again, only bigger. There are some problem areas, but mostly just because it's on a bigger scale than anything we've done before. Many of the men are veterans of last year's campaign, so they know how things work. We just have to make sure they don't requisition too many spares. But every once in a while, there's a weird one. Like that shipment of … let's call them grid squares … that just disappeared. Logged in, never signed for, just gone. It's mind-boggling how an entire shipment can go missing.
Don't worry about me. I'm surrounded by lots of people with rifles. You and the kids, be safe. I don't think the enemy could reach Grantville this time, but you know the drill if they do. Try not to dwell on it, though. Bad memories.
Please tell Mark Happy Birthday from Daddy.
A memory: You having this idea that we'd write each other. There'd be nothing for weeks, and then a whole bunch of letters would get to Wismar at once.
A verse: Proverbs 31:10 "An excellent wife, who can find? For her worth is far above jewels."
Love you, Sugar.
Reed
****
Our House, Grantville
Sunday, July 22, 1635
Dear Reed,
Proverbs 31? You're a sap! Seriously, though, I did read the whole chapter, and I get your point. It's okay if I find a way to work from home. It would have to be part-time and not on a deadline. I'll try to look around.
And, yes, I'm thinking about it because things are a little tight. It's not a crisis. I just have to be careful. We got the quarterly statement from OPM. Our investments made enough for the mortgage payments and the taxes with a couple hundred dollars left over. This whole idea of taking out a mortgage to make money isn't something that ever would have occurred to me, but I'm glad we heard about it. And it still wouldn't have worked if the Emergency Committee hadn't canceled our first mortgage right after the Ring of Fire, since it was through the bank in Fairmont. I know we couldn't have kept the house otherwise.
And Rosina, Anna Maria, and Dorothea couldn't have afforded it if we had to charge the going rate for rent. Magdalena was really concerned when I explained how the investments work. She thought if we were making money, then someone had to be losing it. I told her what the OPM people told us, that good investments help create wealth—and that I didn't really understand it, either, until they explained it to me.
Oh—Dorothea and Johann are doing fine. She's expecting in December. I restarted the Bible
study. Dorothea came and brought her friend Elisabetha. Elisabetha is Lutheran, too, and knows the Bible pretty well. She's not entirely comfortable with a bunch of ladies having a Bible study on their own. I told her everybody's welcome, regardless of what church they go to. I don't have any formal training, but how hard is observe, interpret, apply? And the unwritten fourth step: go ask the pastor's wife if we really get stuck.
Mark had a very happy birthday. I wish we could give the kids the sort of presents we got when we were kids up-time. But they really don't understand yet how different it is down-time. Your parents dug out your old blocks, and he's quite content to build towers and knock them down.
The kids loved the Fourth of July parade. Lydia wants to be in the marching band. This week. The adults—I think a lot of us were a little teary-eyed. It's one thing we still have from up-time. And we remember why it matters. We're set. Don't worry about us.
A memory—Our non-dates running together at cross-country practice. You know, it took me a few runs to realize that you had to be faster and were hanging back so you could flirt with me.
I'm sorry you missed the bath, too. Find any pictures yet?
A verse—Jude 24-25 "Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy, to God our Savior, Who alone is wise, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and forever. Amen."
I love you,
Kathy Sue ♥
****
Our House, Grantville
Monday, July 30, 1635
Dear Reed,
Are you okay? We heard there was fighting along the river. Please tell me you're okay.
The kids say, Hi, Daddy.
Grantville Gazette, Volume 64 Page 2
