Topman
As expected, the fine weather gave way the next day. When Mrs. Stirling did not breakfast with them, the doctor called at her cabin to invite her to sit with him and read during the inclement weather, but she was not there. As he went back to his surgery, he wondered where she had got to, but he was soon engrossed in a chapter of the Encyclopediæ Anatomie and time slipped away.
So absorbed was he in the pages of his book that he heard no one approach and was startled by the appearance of two very wet officers in the doorway with rain streaming down in rivulets off their hats and greatcoats. Mr. Mowett was laughing, and with him, Stephen now saw, was Mrs. Stirling in a canvas hat and greatcoat. Looking at the two of them, merry and red-faced, he blinked in surprise. "Have you got into the captain's brandy?"
They both laughed, and Stephen's eyebrows rose even higher. "No, doctor," said Mowett. "You are much mistaken."
"It is very good to be abroad again," sighed the lady, brushing herself off a bit from the water.
"Some of the landsmen took ill in the storm," explained the lieutenant. "And we were shorthanded. Thus, Mrs. Stirling took the place of an idler on the rail – I swear I didn't know who she was."
"I lent a hand. It was not at all dangerous."
Looking at her now, the observant doctor saw a different woman than the gentle lady who sat with him during the quiet afternoons. Flushed from the cold wind, eyes brilliant with excitement, the lady was radiant and fey and reminded him who her parents had been..
"The captain requests that you view Mrs. Stirling as a patient," continued Mowett, "Killick will set hot water for her bath in the Great Cabin, and you are to see that she changes into dry clothes and drinks a good quantity of mulled wine."
"Mr. Mowett, you may assure the captain that this patient is not going to die of a chill," he replied with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "And as for the patient." He turned his eye to her again as Mowett excused himself. "Please go and bathe. Some hot water will do wonders, and we can certainly spare it in this deluge."
She laughed, still glowing with excitement and pleasure, but her eyes and expression were gentle again. "Do not be cross, doctor. You, of all people, must know that wind and rain are the stuff of life, not of illness."
"The stuff of life and death, Mrs. Stirling," he countered.
"One should live before one dies," she teased, then sighed and looked seriously at him. "Let us not quarrel, sir. I am off to obey orders – a hot bath and dry clothes, and then I shall take a mug of mulled wine with you, if you will."
Looking at her now, easy in her brilliance, he wondered if she knew how absolutely irresistible she was like this. Somehow, he thought not. "I will, ma'am, if you but send word when you are prepared to receive me."
"Good." She got up. "Excellent. Give me a half-hour, doctor."
It was closer to an hour later that he found himself settled snugly in the Great Cabin with his mulled wine in his hand. She sat bundled up in a pretty dressing gown with her legs curled under her and her hair drying, and he learned that Jack had promised (probably against his better judgment) to take her aloft the next fair day to espy the pursuing ship. Jack had little ability to refuse a request from an attractive lady. In all the time they had known each other, Stephen had observed that Jack never set out to seduce a woman, he merely made himself as agreeable as possible and smiled whenever he could. Was that what was occurring, he wondered.
As promised, a few days later, Mrs. Stirling stood on deck dressed in loose trousers and a bulky seaman's sweater which covered her nearly to her knees. Although most of her womanly figure was disguised, there was no possibility of mistaking her for a man. Today, her hair was woven into a thick crimson braid that hung down her back, and she wore no hat.
Jack Aubrey had not yet realized, as the doctor had, where his thoughts were leading him, but he was more attentive than ever than Mrs. Stirling. She met his eyes without maidenly blushes, gazing at him with frank admiration that he recognized very well.
When she had asked him to allow her to climb up on the mainmast, he had been ready to promise her anything, to do any errand that she requested. Now, with the men watching, he saw the folly. At first he meant to take back his words, but something stayed him. The ship that was following, if she recognized it… He cursed himself silently. He could not take her aloft, and he could not send her alone. But what if she could recognize the ship?
Finally, he asked Tom Pullings to climb up with her, in case something happened, and then he warned her to obey whatever Pullings told her and not to take any chances. The lieutenant dutifully removed his blue coat and, once up on the hammock-rigging, gave the lady his hand to aid her. Soon, however, all could see that she had no need of any help. She went steadily with Pullings right behind her watching for any sign of faltering or weakness.
Jack moved back so he could follow their progress and was relieved to see how quickly they moved. Still, to him it seemed like ages passed before Mrs. Stirling pulled herself up onto the crosstrees and stood high above the deck. A moment later, Pullings had joined her, and while they were adjusting their position on the narrow beam, Jack took up his glass to observe them. He had not wanted the men to think him too anxious; however, no one was looking at him. All eyes were trained above.
There was a little shuffle and Pullings appeared to be shouting something, but it was impossible to make out what he might be saying. Then, holding the lines with his left hand, he reached to firmly grasp the lady about the waist. When he had a good hold of her, she let go with both hands, and Jack blanched. Not even the greenest topman would do such a thing, ever! The madwoman drew a small spyglass from a pocket, opened it, and began to scan the horizon aft.
"What is that woman doing?" he growled, a terrible fear that she would fall gripping his heart.
"She looks perfectly relaxed," Stephen remarked beside him. He too was watching the proceedings with a telscope.
"Dangerous imprudence," he muttered. Surely, Pullings should have known better! Time passed so slowly that it seemed to have stopped. Eventually, there was a sudden quick motion that he could not quite follow, and he saw with more than a little relief that Mrs. Stirling was clinging to the lieutenant with both hands. They stood that way for a moment, and then she put away her glass. After, she had grasped a backstay with the obvious intention of climbing down it, but there was no mistaking Pullings this time, for he shouted at her and she obeyed immediately. He climbed down first, and then had her climb directly in front of him. Then, they climbed down together, bit by bit, with him holding on to her waist much of the way. "What is this foolishness?"
"It seems as though the lady has successfully identified the ship," Stephen remarked.
Within five seconds of their arrival safely on the deck, Jack ordered Pullings and Mrs. Stirling to the Great Cabin. The doctor joined them there, and no one spoke at first. Instead of sitting, the lady paced, looking both pale and agitated. The first thing that Jack did was to have Killick fetch a glass of Madeira for her. When she had taken a drink, he went and guided her to a chair.
"Captain Stirling certainly never permitted you to go aloft," he finally said.
"Certainly not," she replied sharply, and she seemed all aflame and painfully roused. "Though at times he had no choice but to employ an experienced topman."
He scratched his head and looked at Stephen who looked only faintly interested in the proceedings. Then, he turned to his lieutenant. "I don't know what you thought you were doing, Mr. Pullings."
Clearly, he was troubled and knew not what to say. "Sir, there was no other way."
"It is no matter now," Mrs. Stirling dismissed impatiently, and Jack turned his attention back to her, for there was something strange about her which he could not put his finger on, something strange and yet so very enticing. "Sir, that ship was one I have not seen these twelve years. My father passed on six months ago, and that ship was his when last I knew him."
Hardly able to comprehend what she meant, he blinked stupidly at her. "Do you mean a pirate ship has been trailing us from port?" he asked incredulously.
"Sir," she began, sounding a little exasperated. "I had no contact with my father for twelve years. I have no idea who commands her now, but I know my father has died. And I know that the ship I saw was the Walrus."
He stared at her with a frown. What she said was not difficult to understand, but there was something here that he was missing, and he could not determine what it was.
Stephen moved to sit down beside her and reached to take one of her hands. "My dear, you must drink your wine and calm yourself," he said with great gentleness. "If you are in some danger, you must tell us what you know. Surely, you have seen that you can trust us?"
The words seemed to affect her, and she took a slow sip from her glass, then another. "I am mostly in the dark, I fear."
Reining in the impulse to question her, Jack sat still and let Stephen handle this.
"But you know more than we do," Stephen countered, still speaking very softly and still holding her hand.
"Only a little." She glanced at Jack and then back at Stephen. "My boys and I, we have a little cottage that my husband had bought and there we lived. The ship, Calypso, is rented. I can sail her but have no temperament for discipline or handling men, so I could not stand as captain. My brother-in-law, Daniel, helped us when he could, though he never approved of me, even when Richard was alive. Knowing the wicked days of my youth and seeing I was not a God-fearing woman has damned me in the eyes of many men."
This last sentence was spoken with unusual bitterness, and Jack wondered at the cause.
"My father died half a year ago," she continued. "The rum took him. I had not seen him nor heard from him in a dozen years, and then I received a letter. He wrote it upon his deathbed, you see."
The doctor nodded in understanding.
"He asked that I come to collect some papers of his, some important papers. Well, it was not the most pleasant letter to receive, for although we had been estranged, there had always been affection between us. Very shortly after that, men came to our cottage in the night. They killed our dogs and may have slain us but one old hound howled and woke me."
She stopped and when she did not continue, Stephen said, "They were there to murder you?"
"Perhaps they thought there was some valuable information in my father's letter. The bald truth is, we killed them. Four grown men. I have some training in the firing of a rifle, you see, an the boys were well-trained as well."
"My dear, did you ever discover what they wanted?"
"No. I went to see Admiral Bellows immediately. He and Mrs. Bellows had been exceedingly kind in all the years they had known me. Well, it was he who placed Silvester and Christopher, and it was he who placed me here to go and find out what these papers are that I should collect."
Stephen gestured for Jack to refill her glass, which was empty. "These papers must be extremely valuable to have interested the admiral."
"They are, sir. I cannot say what they contain, only that there may be those who wish to stop me."
So much had been left unsaid that Jack marveled at the story. Was it truly all that the lady knew? Fear for one's life was a powerful force, but there was obviously something more. In the situation, however, he did not know how to speak to her, so he let Stephen handle it. He had been doing a fine job thus far.
"Perhaps it would be best to retire for now."
Mrs. Stirling nodded and took another sip of the wine. Then she looked at Jack with sincere apology. "Forgive me, sir, any harsh words I may have spoken. I have been a bit overset."
"Of course," he replied kindly, still feeling on the outside of something complicated that he did not understand. "My dear Mrs. Stirling, if there is anyway that we may ease you, please let us know."
A little smile touched her face. "Thank you, sir." Then she got up and turned to the silent Pullings. "Mr. Pullings, I have no words to thank you."
He bowed and replied kindly, then the doctor took the lady back to her quarters. When they were gone, Jack sighed deeply and shook his head. "Well, Tom, what do you make of all that?"
Pullings looked absolutely discomposed. "Sir, I hardly know what to say!"
"Nor do I, Tom. Well, the doctor seems intent on extracting what he may, and I'll not stand in the way." With that, he dismissed his lieutenant and sat reflecting on all that had occurred.