Rapture of the Deep

by L. A. Meyer

  Boys, I swear...

  Toasts are proposed and drunk, stories are told, songs are sung, and there is much joyous speculation as to how much their prize money will be and what they plan to do with it. More songs, more wine, more...

  ...and then it is all done and over. It is time for them to go and for me to stay.

  "I wish you the joy of your first command, Mr. Fletcher," I say, lifting my glass to him.

  The repairs on the Saint Christopher are completed, and it will be leaving within the hour—and Jaimy will be on it. We have been allowed a short time together before departure, and Higgins has set us a nice table in my cabin.

  Jaimy clinks his glass to mine, smiling. "That illustrious command will last only for the five or six days it will take me to get her to Kingston, and then a more senior officer will be made captain of the Saint Christopher. Junior Lieutenants do not command First-Rate, you know."

  I take a sip of my wine and give him a warm look over the rim of the glass. "But, still..."

  "Oh, that does not matter. In fact, I shall be glad to get rid of it," he says, leaning back and looking about my cozy little cabin. "Actually, Jacky, I was in command of this very schooner once during your absence last year, you'll remember. I consider that my first command, and I think I enjoyed that much more than I will in taking that massive tub down to Jamaica. I know that I have spent some of my happiest moments of my life right here in this cabin, with you."

  Me, too, Jaimy...

  "True, the San Cristobal does lack grace, but it should still bring much in the way of prize money," I say, determined to be practical and brave and not start outright bawling. "A three-decker, eighty-eight-gun First-Rate Shipof-the-Line-of-Battle and a head count of six hundred prisoners? The officers and men of the Dolphin should be quite ecstatic."

  "Yes, that will be prime, and the men are very happy, and I imagine the taverns of London will be overjoyed. But for you, Jacky? Will there be something for you?" He reaches over and puts his hand on mine. My eyes, the traitors, are starting to tear up.

  "Probably not, but if it will settle the score between me and the Crown, I shall be content," I say, putting my other hand on his. "I am tired of running, and I do not need much in the way of money, Jaimy. I do have some ... uh ... modest investments in Boston, and I will go there to see what they have profited me. I will wait for word from you that my name has been cleared, and then I will come join you, no matter what."

  Bells ring outside my door, and I know it is time. I rise and so does he.

  "Put such mundane matters out of your mind, and give your lady a last kiss, Jaimy."

  Mmmm...

  "And make sure you put that salve on your leg, and say hello to Mairead and Grandfather, and to your family." And no, I'm not going to cry, but oh, yes, I am..."Oh Jaimy, kiss me again and hold me. Just hold me for a bit, just a bit, just a little bit longer..."

  Oh, Jaimy, why do we always have to be saying goodbye?

  PART VI

  Chapter 55

  The Saint Christopher's sails fill first, and she falls off on the port tack on her way to Kingston.

  I stand on the quarterdeck of the Dolphin to watch her go, my eyes glistening.

  "There, there, Miss," says Captain Hudson, taking my hand and patting it in a fatherly way. "You'll see the unworthy young pup soon enough, I suspect. Goodbye, now."

  "Goodbye, Sir," I say, craning my neck up to plant a kiss upon his cheek. "You could not be a finer man, and I am proud to have sailed with you."

  He bows and says, "Mutual, my dear." He then turns and bellows, "Set sail, Mr. Ropp! For Jamaica, and not a moment to lose!"

  Mr. Ropp—completely and absolutely delighted to be First Officer of a Royal Frigate at the tender age of what...? twenty, tops? if only for a short while—manages what for him is a stentorian bellow. "All men to the buntlines! Raise the Main, the Fore, and the Mizzen! Top men aloft to make sail! Rig the Fore-and-Afts!" I am glad to see that they were able to fish the fallen foremast from the sea and rerig it so that our dear old foretop is once again over our heads. I would have been sorry for that holy old relic to be forever lost.

  Professor Tilden is on deck, too, and I thank him for his kind efforts at educating me and for the use of his fine bell. I assure him that it will be taken safely back to Boston—though I don't tell him I have absolutely no intention of ever giving up that valuable thing. I am glad to hear that he and Dr. Sebastian have fully reconnected and are engaged in new scientific experiments.

  He tut-tuts and suffers a peck on his cheek from me and then goes below, leaving me with those who remain on the deck amidst all the scurrying about in preparation for getting under way.

  "Dr. Sebastian," I say, taking his hand. "I just know the new portfolio of specimens will be well received by the Royal Academy. And I did so enjoy working with you on the drawings."

  "My dearest Jacky," he replies, and I know he is not comfortable with this. "You are the rarest of specimens, yourself, and ... and my fondest wish is that we will sometime work together at some future date."

  "I am sure we shall, Doctor." Planting yet another kiss on yet another cheek, I add, "After all, think of the specimens we have not yet collected. And there's always the South Seas, where we have not yet ventured."

  He smiles and nods. Then he turns and goes down to his laboratory and back to his work.

  Now a red-coated figure appears in front of me, and I put the palms of my hands on his chest.

  "Richard."

  "Goodbye, Jacky. We are off on the foam, and thanks to you, we are headed back to Merrie Olde England—at least for a bit—and the lads are heartily glad of that."

  "Please say farewell to your men for me, and let them know I hold all of them in my heart ... As I do you, Richard."

  He puts his hands on my shoulders and says, "Do you think Mr. Fletcher is watching us right now, through his long glass?"

  "Nay, Jaimy is too upright and noble for that. As I have told him, too noble for his own good, sometimes. So give me that kiss, my Lord Allen."

  He does and then says, "I may not be noble, Princess, but when I am in your presence, I am certainly upright."

  I gasp and give him a poke with my knuckles and look up at him through my teary lashes. "Away now, you dog."

  He laughs. "Dog or Lord, it is all the same, isn't it, Pretty-Tail? And if things don't turn out just right for you in the way of Lieutenant Fletcher, well, that offer of a Ladyship is still open."

  He still holds my shoulders, which are beginning to shake. "Off with you, rogue," I manage to say. "You have always tempted me too much. Long life and happiness, Richard, and I mean that. Be careful of yourself. Goodbye."

  A quick peck on his lips and, knuckles to streaming eyes, I flee back to my Nancy and then up into her crow's-nest to watch them leave.

  There are cheers and cries of "Puss! Puss! Puss-in-Boots!" as the dear Dolphin's sails are raised, then fill in the gentle breeze.

  I wave as they pull away, and I stay there to watch until they are gone.

  The topgallants of HMS Saint Christopher, and then the HMS Dolphin, have scarcely disappeared over the horizon to the west when a new set of sails appears, to the east, with a red flag flying above.

  It is El Diablo Rojo, as I knew it would be.

  "Bring the bell back up," I order, climbing down to my quarterdeck. "Joannie, get into your swimsuit. Higgins, will you attend me in my cabin? We have one more job to do."

  Chapter 56

  "Good Lord," exclaims Higgins in wonderment. "Sixty gold ingots? Ten pounds each?"

  "Yes, as well as half of what we bring up today. I told Flaco that I would give him half the gold I had stashed," I say, hands folded on the table in front of me, like any innocent schoolgirl—like any innocent schoolgirl clad only in a swimming suit and ready to dive again for sunken treasure in the company of Hispanic pirates. "I just didn't tell him that I had two stashes."

  "Hmmm..." Higgins is obviously thinking hard about
the ramifications of all this. The expression on his face is not at all encouraging. Time for the full-bore charm.

  "Dear Higgins, I know you as the most honorable of men, which is why I did not tell you of this before; and for that you must forgive me. Please listen," I implore, putting my hand on his and giving him the big eyes. "As a member of British Intelligence, would you not have been honor bound to inform them of my little ... exploit? Or at least try to dissuade me from doing it?"

  "Who else knows of this?" he asks, curtly.

  "Just those who had to know—Davy and Tink, for they were the ones who moved the gold from a hiding place on the bell and down to the bilges. Joannie knows about the stash below the salt. That's all."

  Silence.

  "Please tell me you understand, Higgins, and know that I could not bear to lose your love and friendship for anything in this world. Please."

  Silence, still.

  "And remember," I say, pressing on, "back on the Mississippi, when I had taken the bounty money from Flashby and Moseley, and you pointed out that, while it was blood money, it still belonged to the Crown, and told me I should give it back and I did. Do you remember that? I know you do. But this is different, Higgins, don't you see? This is Spanish gold that does not belong to the King, and that never belonged to the King. Hell, I must have hauled up at least a million pounds' sterling worth of gold for the King's coffers. Have I not paid my debt? Have I not?"

  He nods, slightly, his eyes hooded, and I push on.

  "And think of the others—Jemimah will now have the resources to free at least some of her children, Annie and Davy will be well fixed, as will Jim and Clementine. And we can think about buying a bigger ship to start our Transatlantic Irish-American scheme. And, although I know you would never allow consideration of financial gain to compromise your principles, you, Higgins, with your shares, will be very well off. A nice house in Cambridge, near the college, perhaps? Maybe a little something for your dad back in Colchester? Something to keep him in his old age? Hmmm ... Oh,please,Higgins!"

  He nods. "The stores of Faber Shipping were getting rather thin," he admits, a smile spreading across his face. "And I do have in mind a very nice little cottage located on the banks of the Charles. Beautiful grounds, and indeed quite handy to Harvard."

  There is a knock and Joannie pokes her head in. "Jacky. Flaco's coming alongside."

  "Good. Have the hands float the raft and hoist up the bell."

  "Aye, aye."

  I turn back to Higgins.

  "And Joannie, too. Although she does not know it, I plan to enroll her at the Lawson Peabody School for Young Girls when we get back to Boston ... and don't you dare tell her, else she'll jump ship."

  Higgins rises, laughing. "Putting that child in that school may well be the hardest task you have yet assigned yourself on this voyage, Miss, but I wish you well in that." He pauses a bit, and then goes on.

  "True, I owe allegiance to my country, and I honor my word. But my first allegiance will always be to you, Miss, and I hope you know that. Shall we go topside and join our fellow pirates?"

  It does not take long for Joannie and me to pull up the treasure from my little cave on the side of the cliff that hangs over what's left of the Santa Magdalena. Just before we fill the last net bag, I once again put my finger to my lips and look at Joannie there hanging in the blue-green water beside me. Then I shove three gold ingots back into the cave to stay, should we ever need to come back and claim them. She looks at me and grins, bubbles coming out the sides of her mouth, with both thumbs up.

  You can take the girls out of Cheapside, but you can't take Cheapside out of the girls.

  As we're about to climb under the edge of the bell for the last time on this voyage, I feel Joannie poke me in the side. I look at her and she points down. There, down in the depths, where lies the treasure ship that has given up so much of its bounty, I see a sight that will stay with me forever—the canvas-covered body of one of the seamen killed in the battle, caught in the drift of an undersea ocean current, slowly settling onto the deck of the wreck.

  I do not know if the sailor was British or Spanish—all I know is ... more bones to lie silent with the Santa Magdalena.

  Now we all gather about the glittering pile of treasure that lies on my deck—me and my crew, Flaco and the sailors who stayed loyal to him during his recent troubles.

  The towel Higgins hands me, to dry off, is wrapped turbanlike around my hair. I then plop down cross-legged next to the stack of booty, reflecting on what a proper bunch of brigands we must appear to be.

  Flaco, resplendent in red silk, cocked hat with gold trim, and striped pantaloons tucked into folded-down black boots, sits across from me, grins, and says, "You will notice, my sometimes truthful heart-of-my-heart, that I have sent Moto to take down your red marker, so you will not be able to come to this spot again, should you have left something down below. Eh?"

  No fool, that Flaco...'cept that I have taken at least twenty-five bearings on every conceivable rock, tree, point, or outcropping ... Hey, I could find my way back here in a leaky rowboat in the dark. But no matter—time to divide the spoils.

  I smile and nod and turn to the business at hand.

  The ingots, being all of the same weight, are easy to divide. The rest—the silver, the crosses, the necklaces, the gold chalices, the jewels in those two little casks—we parcel out one piece at a time.

  Davy, take this cross for Annie, I know she will like it ... Yes, and one for Betsey, too. All right, Flaco, you can take those ... and Jemimah, this ruby necklace, I think it will look good on you ... Ah, an emerald for my poor self, and one for Joannie, too. Tink, if you come to see that dark-eyed girl again, well, this will help. And Perrito, a present for your mamacita, si? And Coyote...

  And so it goes. The cask of jewels is spread out, all twinkling in the sun, and I put my shiv down through the middle of the pile, dividing it in half. Any disputes are settled with a roll of the dice—and I didn't even use my loaded ones.

  When we are done, there is only one small gold cross that lies between us. Flaco rattles the dice and tosses ... five and three—eight. I pick up the cubes and roll ... five and four—nine. I win.

  I take up the cross, stand, and go to the rail.

  "I believe we should give something back to her," I say, and drop it over the side.

  It glitters as it falls and turns through the water and then is gone. I like to think that it comes to rest on that poor sailor who lies down below.

  "That settles things between us, I believe, Captain Jimenez," I say.

  "Except for a final embrace, my slightly damp little mermaid," says the grinning buccaneer, his arms spread wide.

  I put my arms about his waist and nuzzle my nose into his neck, making the bells on his braids tinkle merrily.

  "Come now, Flaco, off with you. Maybe someday we shall sail together again."

  "I know we shall, mi corazón"

  "Adiós, Flaco, mi amigo"

  "Vaya con Dios, Jacquelina, mi amor"

  El Diablo Rojo has gone over the southern horizon as the Nancy B. Alsop weighs anchor and heads east then north toward Boston.

  I stand up in the crow's-nest and look out over the sea. Jaimy's over in that direction and is safe, for now, or as safe as one can be in this world, and for that I am glad. The bell is secured below, and my crew is happy with their newgotten gains, even though most of them do not yet realize the extent of their good fortune. All, however, are looking forward to going back to their home port, and to friends, to lovers, and to family.

  Me, too.

  The wind whips my hair about my face, drying it from my last dive. I take a deep, deep breath and look down upon my world—my sturdy little ship, my good friends, and the calm sea—and I realize one thing, one very great and glorious thing...

  I am free...

  * * *

  Epilogue

  It's dark in the bilges of the Nancy B., down by the heavy ballast that keeps the ship
upright in a blow, where five of us are gathered—Davy, Tink, Higgins, along with a very mystified Ezra Pickering, and me. Tink holds up a lantern and all that can be seen in the gloom are the wolfish grins on the faces of my crew.

  "Shine the light down here, Tink," I say, crouching down and pulling out my shiv. "Watch this, Ezra."

  I reach down and draw the blade over the top of a gray bar and a gleam of rich yellow appears.

  "What?" asks Ezra. "Is it...?"

  "Yes, Ezra, it is gold. Pure gold."

  "How much?

  "About six hundred pounds."

  "Six hundred pounds sterling?"

  "No, Mr. Pickering," says Higgins. "Six hundred pounds of actual gold."

  "Six hundred pounds! Good Lord! I doubt the Commonwealth has that much gold in its treasury! I am staggered!"

  Ezra habitually wears a slight smile on his face, but I suspect that that little smile has been wiped off for the moment.

  "Who knows of this?" he whispers.

  "Just us four ... five now," say I.

  "Hmmm ... And the rest of your crew?"

  "No. Although we intend to give all their fair share, we felt it best that we talk to you first. We have given out pay—some gold, many jewels—and all are happy. In fact, we have set aside a nice gold watch chain with emerald fob for you—a diamond stickpin as well—and we hope you will like them. Yes, all are quite happy..."

  Well, almost all are happy, I reflect, as Ezra silently collects his thoughts. Upon arrival in Boston, I had a joyous reunion with Amy Trevelyne, tempered by the fact that brother Randall had not yet returned from the wars in Germany and there was no word of him. Amy, however, remains cheerful, or as cheerful as she ever gets, and already had pen and paper in hand and has been taking notes on my various travels. Jim is snugged up with Clementine, and Davy with Annie, while McGee and Thomas are off to the Pig and beyond. Jemimah has bought new clothes and we have hired investigators to search for her children down south and to see about buying them out of slavery. And El Gringo has been given an honored retirement at Dovecote. He's been put out to stud, as it were, and provided with a proper harem. So the other roosters had better watch out because even though I've taken off his silver spurs and hung them up, I've not thrown them away—for his son might want the use of them someday.