Chapter 12 - Sleight of Hand

"Mrs Turner and I will return to the Black Pearl tonight," he said. His officers looked at him in surprise.

"I will take her back to the area where Dauntless was attacked - hopefully a notorious pirate vessel will arouse no suspicion. Once I have determined the identity of the ship that betrayed us, I will return here and send a formal despatch to the Admiralty, asking for whatever assistance is necessary to make the arrests and bring charges. Dismissed, gentlemen."

Most of the men left at once, probably heading for private spots around the fort to gossip with their cronies and lay hopeless plans for avenging their lost friends. A few remained, gathered into small groups and talking quietly amongst themselves. None of them seemed inclined to approach and ask questions. Thank God. Elizabeth had subsided into her corner and was apparently sulking there in a most unladylike fashion - he felt another pang of guilt at involving her in this ridiculous charade. After a couple of attempts, he succeeded in catching Gillette's eye and beckoned him over.

"I need a few items from my rooms," he said. "And I have some special orders for you, if you would accompany us." He gestured a little with the pistol and Elizabeth rose from the chair that she had been slouching in and moved ahead of them into the passage. The other officers in the mess were so engrossed in their speculations that he didn't think anyone saw them leave.

His rooms were only a few yards from the mess. Nothing seemed to have been touched in his absence. As soon as the door was bolted behind them he uncocked the pistol and tossed the hateful thing into a chair. Gillette stared at him in astonishment.

"It's only us," said Elizabeth and was rewarded a moment later with the sight of her husband, who appeared from the adjoining room, his clothes still sopping wet from his swim.

"No one saw you?" enquired Norrington.

"No. Once I scaled the cliff, slipping over the wall was no trouble."

"I'll have to double the guard on the seaward side," Norrington said, refusing to allow even a hint of a smile to touch his features. Mr Turner only grinned mischievously by way of reply.

"Please sit down and I'll fetch the clothes," said Norrington, motioning Mr Turner towards a plain but comfortable wooden chair. As he had hoped, Mr Turner moved off the rather expensive rug that he had been dripping on (one of his mother's nicer gifts) and sat down. Elizabeth, quite unconsciously it seemed, moved to stand behind him and rested one hand gently against his cheek.

Ignoring the small pang of regret he felt at the sight, Norrington went to his bedroom. In a few moments he had gathered all the garments which made up his uniform, from buckled shoes and woollen stockings to powdered wig. Hopefully he would get them back one day - he had lost a lot of clothes in the wreck of the Dauntless and his tailor's bill for the year was going to be uncomfortably high. He returned with the pile of clothes and stood in the doorway, looking expectantly at Elizabeth and waiting courteously for her to leave. Instead of moving she looked at him with a puzzled expression.

Obviously the strain had got to her at last and she had forgotten this part of the plan. It was inevitable he supposed, but she had held up remarkably well, for a woman. "Perhaps you would care to wait in the next room Elizabeth?" he reminded her gently.

"Why?" she asked.

He looked down at the pile of clothes in his arms and then at Mr Turner.

"But we're married," she said, the slightest hint of a giggle in her voice. "I assure you Commodore, I will not be shocked."

He gave up. The deplorable company that she kept had clearly wrung every scrap of decency out of her. For the first time he found himself wondering whether she had ever really had any sense of propriety to lose.

It was quite a struggle to fit Mr Turner into the Commodore's uniform - the blacksmith had much broader shoulders, which made the coat far too tight, but was also a full two inches shorter, which meant that the sleeves and breeches were too long. In the end Elizabeth and Norrington had to strain to button the jacket when Turner breathed out, then fling a cloak over the top to try to hide the most obvious deficiencies in the disguise.

Once they had finished, Mr Turner was rather red in the face. "I'm beginning to see why you hate corsets so much," he confided to his wife, who grinned back at him.

Gillette had stood and watched their preparations in silence from the corner by the door. Once he was satisfied that the blacksmith's disguise was as complete as it could be, Norrington turned to his hopelessly bemused junior.

"I'm not going back to the Black Pearl tonight. Mr Turner here will go in my stead, with his wife."

"So, they aren't really your prisoners?" Gillette asked. He seemed a little less regretful than was proper, whether this was out of some lingering infatuation with Elizabeth, or from a fascination with Sparrow's infernal charisma, Norrington couldn't tell.

"I'm afraid not, Sparrow and his crew found me starving on the island and rescued me. The rest of my tale was mostly true, except for one thing," his voice had dropped almost to a whisper. Some things seemed dangerous to speak aloud, even among allies in a locked room. "I saw the name of the ship that attacked us. It was Vigilance - Captain Hollowell."

Gillette looked horrified. "Sir, one of Hollowell's officers"

"Is here, I know - we were expecting that. A lieutenant, brown hair, fairly tall - I saw him when I spoke to the men in the mess."

"I'll have him arrested at once!" Gillette moved towards the door determinedly. He had lost more than one close friend to Hollowell's treachery.

"No," Norrington said as he reached out and grabbed the younger man's arm. "Tomorrow he will leave, probably on the morning tide. We must let him go."

"But why?"

"So that he can tell Hollowell that there was a witness who survived the attack on Dauntless. A witness who will be on the Black Pearl, deep in their own territory. Hollowell can't risk me arousing the interest of the Admiralty in his little game."

"He'll attack the Pearl? Sir she'll be hopelessly outgunned, even more than Dauntless. Sparrow and his crew won't stand a chance!" Gillette looked horrified by the plan, very much as Norrington had been when Sparrow had first proposed it. Elizabeth would be on the Pearl - she had steadfastly resisted every argument he had made to try to persuade her to stay with her father in Port Royal.

"Sparrow seems quite confident," now that was a gross understatement, but then Sparrow was ludicrously convinced of his ability to surmount every obstacle life threw in his path. So far, to the Commodore's great frustration, the weight of evidence was alarmingly in the pirate's favour on the issue.

"What do you need me to do?" Gillette asked. He was starting to calm down a bit on the surface, but the set of his jaw and the stiffness of his spine betrayed his underlying agitation.

"Assemble an escort - at least six men, fully armed. You must take Mr and Mrs Turner down to the docks. Stay there long enough once they have cast off to make sure that no one can follow them. None of the men, or the guards at the gate must see Mr Turner's face."

"Will you make yourself known when that traitor has gone?" Gillette asked. Norrington nodded.

Gillette unbolted the door and slipped out. A mere five minutes later he was back with the escort party and knocked softly on the door.

Norrington looked gravely at the Turners. He shook Will's hand, then after a moment's hesitation took Elizabeth's hand and kissed it. "Good luck," he said. There really didn't seem to be anything helpful he could say under the circumstances.

He handed Mr Turner the damned pistol, glad to finally see the back of the thing. Mr Turner tugged the hat low over his eyes, then tilted his head so that his face was in shadow and partially concealed by the high collar of the cloak. A moment later he and Elizabeth were gone, heading off to rejoin that bloody pirate and his crew of drunken lunatics. Norrington hoped desperately that the Pearl would make it back safe to Tortuga after the encounter with Hollowell.

Worried as he was, his own wonderful familiar bed beckoned. Within ten minutes of the Turners' departure the Commodore had settled down for the first decent night's sleep he had had in months.

Author's Notes:

Sorry it's a bit later than I hoped - it was a very busy holiday! On a piratical note, I did get to see the place that Arthur Ransome used as the basis for Wildcat Island in Swallows and Amazons. Well, it was a huge thrill for me, anyway!

Thank you very much, all those who have reviewed - it is so encouraging to know that people are reading this (and hopefully getting some fun out of it).