Sightings
Over the next three days, the weather grew warmer, but the wind held and the Surprise made good use of it. She was generally a happy ship, and the presence of a handsome woman had all of them, the crew as well as the officers, on their best behavior. Clean shirts and neck cloths were worn, hands and faces were washed daily despite the dearth of fresh water, and the ubiquitous coarse language almost disappeared. One particularly warm fine day, Stephen overheard Mr. Hollar, the bosun, roar at a clumsy hand. "What's the matter with you... you incompetent fool?"
The officers were always clean-shaven with their waistcoats buttoned up, boots polished, and coats freshly brushed. Mr. Allen came to regard their passenger almost as an equal and was often at her side, telling one of his complicated tales or even asking her opinion on the sailing of the ship, to which she always replied with great respect and deference. It seemed to Stephen that the presence of a handsome young woman who was sweet-natured and totally unattainable was a great motivation for men to uphold naval regulations upon a man-o-war. His one worry was that Jack was more and more looking at her with an amorous glint in his eyes, and the lady indulged him a bit more than she should.
"Mrs. Stirling, doctor, if you please," called Mowett from the waist of the ship at four bells of the morning watch. "You might care to see this."
Curiously, they got up from their usual spot on the quarterdeck and went down to where the lieutenant stood with a few of the crew and several young midshipmen. Out off the starboard rail, near the surface of the clear, blue Atlantic, several sleek dolphins raced with them.
"By the stars," said the lady in excitement. One of them leapt clear out of the water, flashing for a moment in the sunlight, before plunging into the sea again a moment later.
"It is a good omen," Mowett explained to them. "Among the many superstitions that sailors have."
"An excellent omen," she replied thoughtfully, a strange emotion richening her voice. "They are the gods of wind and sea, and they were thought to determine the course of seafarers."
"Indeed they are, ma'am!" Mowett agreed, looking at the lady in surprise. "A good education you've had, if you'll permit me to say."
She smiled at him, flattered a little and moved to joy by the sight of the elegant dolphins; however, some deep sorrow seemed to be shrouding her as she gazed out again. Mowett and Stephen frowned at each other, wondering what sadness could have been provoked by something so beautiful. At that moment, there was a loud cry from above, "Sail, ho! Dead astern!"
"Pardon me," said Mowett, going quickly back to the quarterdeck and taking up his spy-glass. Stephen debated on what to say, and finally asked, "Are you quite well, ma'am?" when he saw some little sparkle of tears in her eyes.
"Perfectly well," she told him although it was obviously not true.
"Begging your pardon, ma'am," one of the boys interrupted with a little salute. "With Mr. Pullings compliments, he asks that you dine with the officers in the gunroom this evening."
"Please return the courtesy to Mr. Pullings and tell him I should be honored to dine with them." With a little laugh, she brushed at her eyes and then smiled at Stephen. "All these invitations! I shall never find the opportunity to reciprocate, I fear!"
"It is the custom," he told her. "The captain hosts the officers every week, and Mr. Pullings, as first officer, is host in the gunroom. I am sure that as you are the captain's guest upon this voyage that there is no expectation of any kind of reciprocity."
That evening when the doctor appeared in the gunroom, he found Pullings terribly anxious as the final preparations were made, for he was only used to having the captain as a guest, or perhaps visiting officers from other ships. The appearance of their pretty guest in her blue silk was enough to spur him into action, and not having the experience of hosting such events, he went to great pains to play the host exactly as Jack had done. He need not have worried, for everything went smoothly and Mrs. Stirling was happy and well-entertained by the conversation and sea-yarns that they embellished for her entertainment. After the dinner was underway and the wine was flowing, Pullings seemed to relax a little. Mixed in with a little amusement, Stephen felt quite a bit sorry for the first lieutenant.
Jack, too, noticed how intently the poor fellow was trying to see the dinner go smoothly. With brotherly comradeship, he put out special effort at entertaining the table and even accepted a third helping of pudding which he did not really want. When talk came up of the dolphins, the topic invariably turned to the sail that had been sighted.
"Third day running, sir," Mowett commented.
"Is it the same ship?" asked Mrs. Stirling, for this was the first she had heard of it.
"We can't get a good sight of her, for she keeps just below the horizon," Mr. Allen explained to her. "Only the tops have seen her, and generally only the t'gallants."
"Only the tops?" she repeated, looking rather more serious than the situation warranted.
"Aye, ma'am. Haven't been able to catch a sighting in the glass, not yet."
"And it seems as though we are in for a weather change tomorrow," she added, still frowning.
"More than likely." Jack grinned.
"I shall never understand how you can predict the weather so remarkably easily," Stephen commented.
"It is as clear as is noon to a sea-faring man," Jack told him. "And with whatever gale we get, our friend will have to move in closer if she is following us."
Mrs. Stirling became terribly pale. "Do you think she is truly following us?"
"It may be, but there is certainly nothing to fear," he assured her. "Here, aboard the Surprise, you are quite safe."
The lady nodded, but his words seemed to do little to reassure her. Soon afterwards, Pullings offered her his arm in an attempt to emulate the captain's gallantry and took the lady on a little stroll about the quarterdeck. The others took their coffee and Stephen stood talking with Jack as they all enjoyed the sight of an almost supernaturally large full moon.
"That ship worries her greatly," he remarked.
"I wonder why. Certainly none of her pirate companions would dream of going after us. They prey on merchants and would turn tail at the mere sight of our guns."
"Jack, is it Nassau that is our destination?"
The captain shook his head. "No. We are to escort the lady to Savannah in secret. After that, I am to sail the ship where the lady bids me. I believe the destination will be determined when her business there is complete."
"Savannah?" Stephen asked incredulously. Then again: "Savannah?"
"I am as in the dark about it as you, though I know it is quite something serious. No doubt we shall learn more as we get closer," he said with finality. "Now, shall we play a tune, Stephen? I am overfilled, but Pullings beamed at me so when I took the last helping that I did it out of respect for him."
"Your dietary habits will be the death of you," the doctor sighed. "I shall be along presently," he added, indicating his cigar. Glancing back, he stopped to observe when he saw that Mrs. Stirling had seated herself along the taffrail with a good view of the moon and poor Pullings stood uncomfortably, seeming unable to decide if he should sit with the lady or leave her in solitude. Gingerly, he settled beside her, and Stephen edged closer in order to hear what she was saying to him.
"… they lived by cycles, by the rhythms of the Earth. If you think about it, it makes sense. The years turn round and round upon themselves, spring, summer, autumn, and then winter. Again and again, there is always the death and rebirth. They said that the sun is the god, lord of the wild creatures and his body is the bountiful harvest. On the other hand, the moon is the goddess, and we see her aspects every month. The waxing moon we call the maiden, for she is young and fresh. The full moon is the mother, obviously, and the waning moon is the wise crone. The new moon, like winter, is a time of death and rebirth. Thus, you can see how the moon cycles through her aspects, as do the tides of the sea. The goddess is the lady of the moon, the sea, and the earth, for it is from her body that the harvest is brought forth. She is the mother of all life."
"I am not unfamiliar with such tales, for my grandfather has often told me such things. He is a farmer and always says we must live according to the cycles of the Earth."
"He must be a vastly wise man."
"With each year that passes and everything I see in this world, I come to see how truly wise he is."
After a pause, she said, "You are immensely lucky, Mr. Pullings."
He looked up at the moon. "He has never called them god and goddess, only lord and lady. And he certainly has none of your eloquence, ma'am. But several times a year he leaves offerings and thanks them. But it is the same." He looked at her. "Is it not?"
"I believe it is."
He smiled and looked up again at the moon. The silence between them was companionable. Eventually, Mrs. Stirling spoke again. "It has always seemed to me that sailors are something other than landsmen. I have seen many – Christians, Jews, Mohammedans, and many others besides – but when it comes down to it, the sea is always a goddess to us, beloved, powerful, and worthy of reverence."
"Aye, but you and I should have been staked and roasted alive had we talked of this during the time of the Inquisition."
She laughed aloud and he grinned. "I doubt it not!" she declared.
The cigar had burned down too low. Stephen found himself grinning as he tossed the cigar's butt over the side and went below to find Jack was already tuning his violin.