Like Endless Rain
The scene that met Jack's eyes as he came aboard was surreal: blood and bodies everywhere, grim-faced Stephen and Will Mowett, apparently only just arrived, and businesslike Tom Pullings waiting for him.
"Mr. Pullings, what happened here?" he asked slowly. Never had he seen such a thing occur while in port.
"Boarders, sir, come for the lady."
"My God! Is she hurt?"
The lieutenant shook his head. "No, sir, or so she claims."
"There are wounded below, doctor," Mr. Howard, devoid of his coat, came over to them. "Mr. Allen took a nasty wound on his arm and Mrs. Stirling is worrying over him like a goose with a chick."
"Mr. Pullings, gentlemen, let us get things set to right," Jack said to them, "and then I want to see all of you in my cabin."
"Aye, sir." They all saluted and went about their business, but Stephen remained a moment.
"It seems the stakes have gone up," he remarked. "I learned in town that she is now worth ten thousand pounds."
"Ten thousand? Damn. I would have never imagined this had spread from Savannah all the way here already," said Jack. "And boarders attacking a King's ship while in port? I cannot imagine that even pirates would dare such a thing!"
"Doctor! There you are!" called the lady in question as she came up on deck. The men stopped to look at her, for in the golden lamplight, she was a ghoulish apparition with the Marine Captain's coat hanging over her ruined gown and with the dried blood caking not only one side of her face but also her disheveled hair and her throat. "Why do you delay? Mr. Allen needs to be seen, and he is more missish than a little girl!" she told him in an annoyed tone. "As if the sight of a man without his on shirt will cause me to swoon."
Her words were ironic to the point of being surreal: there she stood with the blood of men she had killed covering her and talking of social niceties afforded to ladies.
"I shall go to him directly," Stephen assured her. "Only, tell me if you are hurt."
"Not at all, a powder burn, but it will keep."
The doctor made off to attend his patients, but the captain had the lady in his sights and a partial idea of what had occurred. "Mrs. Stirling," said Jack, studying her eerie appearance and the gruesome effect of the dried blood. "Those captain's epaulettes do suit you, ma'am," he told her after a moment. "But I hope you will own that I am still in command of this ship."
"I did what I had to do in your absence," she shot back.
He paused, for she was fierce and defensive but held none of the brilliance that they were accustomed to seeing when she was in a passion. When he spoke again, it was gently. "My dear, please go below and have a bath whilst we are busy here. I shall have Killick set the hot water for you in my cabin. After that, I must ask for some account of what occurred this evening."
"Very well, sir. Give me half an hour."
Once she had disappeared below, the men were able to turn their attention back to their work; however, there was whispering among them, which was no great surprise. When Jack finally entered the Great Cabin, he found that Stephen had taken Rose down to his surgery to tend to a slight gunpowder burn on her hand. Killick poured out glasses of wine as the others arrived, and even Mr. Allen, stitched, pale, and bandaged but obviously not seriously hurt, came to meet with them.
"Before the doctor and Mrs. Stirling return," Jack began, looking gravely at each of them, "answer me this: were you in command, Mr. Pullings? And why in God's name was she permitted to fight with you?"
"I was, sir, and she was certainly not permitted to fight."
"Mr. Pullings ordered her to remain in her cabin," added Mr. Allen. "Both I and Captain Howard witnessed it."
"I can't imagine she puts much store in permission, that lady," said Howard. "I saw her take out three men myself – two shot in the head and one with a slashed jugular. It was what saved Mr. Allen's life, for I could not reach him in time." Amazed, he shook his head. "Damn fine work, too. Good aim, calm and unshakable – nerves like a Marine!"
A little silence fell as Stephen entered and lead her in, freshly bathed, wrapped in her modest dressing gown, wet hair hanging down her back and a small bandage wound around her hand. His gentle manner with her was telling, and her appearance could not have been more changed from the blood-caked creature of an hour before: she looked achingly young, nervous, and vulnerable as she stood biting her lip and looking at them with wide eyes.
Jack softened and changed his mind about taking her to task sternly for her rash actions. "Ma'am, pray take this chair and let me pour you a glass of wine." Filled both with compassion and protectiveness, Jack guided her to her seat, set a full glass in her hand, encouraged her to drink some, and hoped it would relax her. Although she knew them, the poor thing must be suffering terribly, with fear for her own life and now having to relive the horror of the evening's attack before a roomful of men to judge her actions.
"Mr. Allen," she said with a genuine, tremulous smile. "How glad I am to see you well!"
"I must thank you, ma'am, both for your kindness and for my life," he replied in a subdued tone.
She flushed a painful red and fiddled nervously with the folds of her dressing gown. "No, no – I am just relieved that I could help."
"Well, then… I am sorry that they interrupted our drinking to your engagement, the rude cullies," he said. "We shall toast you again tomorrow, I promise."
"Engagement?" asked Jack with a confused frown.
"Yes, sir," said Tom awkwardly, hardly knowing how to express his joy at this sober meeting and unable to keep from glancing at the lady with undisguised affection. "Mrs. Stirling has honored me by accepting my proposal."
The news shocked Jack; Mowett, who had been drinking his wine, lowered his glass and stared at his friend. Before anyone could speak, Rose did. "I will not hold you to it, of course," she told him in a subdued voice, not looking at him.
"Not hold me to it?" he repeated slowly, frowning.
"I told you I wouldn't make a proper wife, and now you see it." She smiled a little, wistfully, still averting her eyes.
"And I told you that nothing would change my mind, and I meant it."
"That is enough," Jack broke in. In truth, he hardly knew what to think, but the last thing they needed was to rouse tempers and other passions. "Mrs. Stirling, Mr. Pullings, must I really take you to task again for quarreling?"
"Sorry, sir," said Pullings.
"Like an old married couple already!" chuckled Mowett despite his complete astonishment at the news.
"Mr. Mowett," said Jack in a warning voice. "Now, please, keep private matters for later and help me to understand what went on today, for boarders and a melee in a friendly port will not be easy to explain to Admiral Bellows."
"I believe it all started with me," said Stephen to deflect some of the attention from Tom and Rose. "I was lunching with Mrs. Stirling and Mr. Pullings when I noticed we had been followed all morning."
"Followed?"
"Yes, and so Mr. Pullings immediately took the lady back to the ship. I attempted to discover what I could and thus followed the follower. When he saw them return to the ship, our dirty friend lead me to an equally unclean pub. I could not, unfortunately, follow him into a private room."
"Forgive me, sir," broke in Mowett, who looked completely confused. "Why would anyone want to harm Mrs. Stirling?"
"Because she holds the key to some vital information," he explained. "The lady's father discovered that a man of his acquaintance was a traitor to the Crown. Unfortunately, he became ill and died less than a year ago, and now, Mrs. Stirling must collect the papers, the evidence against this man."
It was not enough of an explanation and prompted numerous questions, including the unspoken one about where and how she had gained the skills of a cold-blooded assassin. Rose looked around at the men whose job it was to protect her and to keep her alive, at least until the evidence was in hand. "Captain, I know that you seek to protect me," she began, "but I believe that those who fight and risk their lives should at least know what is at stake. There is no one in this room who doesn't deserve to know the truth. If this mission is successful, it will be common knowledge anyway. If it is not successful…. well, then my life will be over and none of it will matter one way or the other."
To himself, Jack admitted that he was glad she had come to this decision. "Very well." He took a deep breath as he looked over the questioning faces of Mowett, Howard, and Allen. "The lady's father was a criminal, and for her association with him, she was condemned but granted leniency years ago and became a free woman."
"Condemned?" repeated Captain Howard. "For killing a man in self-defense?"
"No, for piracy," she answered, looking down into her wine glass. Her voice was flat, tired. "I was spared the gallows, though, for sharing important information about smugglers and pirates. My father passed on less than a year ago, and I am on my way to fetch some of his documents which will reveal the treasonous activities of a man in the King's service as well as many other crimes."
"Piracy!" cried Mr. Allen weakly. "It cannot be so! You are a lady!"
"It is so. As you say, my parents were both born gentlefolk, for my mother was the granddaughter of a viscount. My father was John Flint, and he gave up the gentleman's life to become a gentleman of fortune."
"Flint?" Mowett exclaimed. "My God!"
"Indeed. I was born aboard the Walrus and raised to the sea life. My mother always taught me to be a lady, which has served me in good stead. My father taught me to pilot a ship, including all the mathematics. He also valued me, even as a girl child, and taught me from infancy how to defend myself."
"Was it he who taught you to shoot?" asked Howard.
"It was," she agreed. "He always said that if one was going to shoot to kill, one must be sure to do the job right with one shot. The only sure way to kill a man with one bullet is to put it in his head. Anywhere else, and he might still get up. I practiced that shot every day for much of my life. Well, when my mother passed on, I was still a girl, and he sent me to attend a school for ladies." A slight smile passed over her features.
"I would imagine that none of the other ladies had skill in shooting a man in the head," remarked Allen with a dark frown.
"No, indeed, sir, though I doubt any of them would ever have the need to do such a thing, as I did. Well after I left school, I grieved for the sea and ran away, back to my father in Savannah. I sailed with him for a short time, and he had me as master. Though I was only seventeen at the time, most of the pirates are experienced mariners without any education, so I was useful to him. I could not abide violence, though, and then I had an offer from an honest seaman and left that life. Back in England, I was arrested, tried, and condemned, but as I said, they granted me clemency in exchange for information.
"It all might have ended there; however, my father wrote a deathbed letter to me charging me with collecting his papers and condemning the man who is a traitor to England, betraying his King and country for gold. After that, the attempts on my life started. The boys were placed untimely as midshipmen with captains whom I know and trust, and I have come to collect the evidence to convict the traitor and save my own skin."
"So, Flint, your father, taught you to shoot a man in the head or slit his throat?" asked Mr. Allen. "And you have killed men before?"
"That's enough, sir," said Jack with a warning in his voice.
"No, captain, he is right. It's not the first throat I've cut, and the way this cruise is going, it won't be the last." Now, there was a touch of bitterness in her voice as well as sadness. "That was the second way to be sure a man was dead: cut his throat. From the days of my childhood, it was what I learned, and I have put it to good use."
"It was what saved your life, sir," Howard told Allen. "You have nerves like a Marine, ma'am. You must have that from your father."
"Old Terayen told us that it was your mother who had nerves like a man," volunteered Stephen.
At these words, she smiled. "He was afraid of my mother. He always thought she was a demon born in the guise of a lady."
"Forgive me, sir," broke in Mowett. "Who is Terayen?"
"This vile old pirate gone honest we visited in Savannah," Stephen informed him. "He told us that Mrs. Stirling had a price on her head. Five thousand pounds to the man who killed her."
There was a heavy second of silence, and then, "Five thousand pounds?" and "Five thousand?"
There was silence for a moment, and Jack looked at the three who had heard this story for the first time. Mowett's expression was guarded, but Howard had seen and admired her skill with pistol and knife and seemed more ready to accept the situation. Allen was not at his best and seemed most strongly affected by everything they had heard; other than that, Jack could not tell.
"I will say this only once: as the magistrates have pardoned the lady, so shall we," he said with finality. "We have specific orders to keep her safe while she fetches the documents and to see the traitor brought to trial. Now, as to tonight's business: Mr. Pullings, your report?"
"Sir, when we left the doctor and returned to the ship, Mr. Howard set the Marines on alert, for I felt there was some danger, but this I never expected. We had nearly finished dinner when we heard the shout to repel boarders. We were outmanned but fought with discipline."
"It was good that Mr. Pullings set us on alert," added Howard. "Otherwise, it might have come to a different end."
"And where were you, ma'am?" Jack asked Rose. "Were you instructed to stay below?"
"I was, sir," she admitted in a quiet voice, looking away from him, "but I could not hide while these men fought to protect me, not when I knew I could help."
I wish Tom luck with her, Jack said to himself. "Let me ask you one thing: what would your father have done had you disobeyed a direct order?"
For a moment, she hesitated. "The truth is that it would have depended on the outcome. With respect, sir, in this case, he would have been satisfied that I hit my mark every time and swayed the odds in our favor."
"Amen to that," said Mr. Howard.
"Yes, it has all turned out for the best this time, but it very easily could have gone the other way. Now, my dear lady, this is a ship of His Majesty's Navy, and we are all required to follow orders. I do not want to see such disobedience again. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," she replied, gazing down into her wine glass, seeming soundly chastened: he was afraid she would burst into tears.
"No reason to fret now, ma'am. Let me pour you a little more," he said kindly and refilled her wine glass. "Mr. Pullings, please go on with your report."
The lieutenant described his particular perception of the battle, and then Howard told what he had seen. All of them pretended not to notice Rose brushing at her eyes, except Stephen who handed her his handkerchief and looked pointedly at Jack.
"Well…" said Jack, momentarily lost as how to proceed. "I think perhaps this day has been too much for you, my dear." He glanced at Stephen and then at Tom. "Mr. Pullings, will you see the lady back to her cabin?"
"Aye, sir." Silent, self-conscious, awkward, he came around the table.
Stephen took Rose's arm as she got up. "I shall check on you in the morning," he told her quietly.
"Thank you," she whispered and, without looking at Tom, went out the door that he had opened for her.
"There is one more thing that you gentlemen should know," said Jack once they were gone. "In Kingston, the doctor learned that the price on the lady's head now stands at ten thousand pounds."
"Ten thousand pounds?" repeated Captain Howard.
"To murder her and prevent the incriminating documents from coming to light," Stephen said. "Though she may not be quite the helpless woman we once thought, to kill in self-defense is no crime."
"But a pirate!" sputtered Mr. Allen. "Flint were a cold bastard, the blood-thirstiest buccaneer to ever sail, and never was caught!"
"Sins of the father," Stephen sighed. "Mrs. Stirling says she was never a pirate, that she sailed her father's ship and defended herself. I believe it is true, though you must all make up your own minds."
"We are not judges and magistrates," Jack told them all. "First of all, she has been pardoned and is thus a free and honest woman. Secondly, she is my guest on this ship and is to be treated with civility and respect. Finally, we must protect her at all costs and bring the evidence back safely. The rest was told to you out of respect and could have easily remained secret without affection the mission. Now, I don't want to hear one more word about this. Is that understood?"
"Aye, sir," they chorused.
"Very well. Now, on to other business."
Mowett quotations:
'There he is – call out – run after him – you will catch him if you run.'
He had not been into the coffee-house that morning because it was a question either of paying for a cup of coffee or of paying for a boat to row him out to the Sofie, and he had therefore been unavailable for the midshipman, who now came running along behind him
'Dr Maturin?' asked young Mowett, and stopped short, quite shocked by the pale glare of reptilian dislike. However, he delivered his message; and he was relieved to find that it was greeted with a far more human look.
Master and Commander
Mowett is asked to show Stephen everything he would like to see around the Sophie, the beginning of a long passage in Chapter 3 where he explains the rigging and sails to Stephen and thus to the reader. He also recites several fragments of poems:
James Mowett was a tubular young man, getting on for twenty; he was dressed in old sailcloth trousers and a striped Guernsey shirt, a knitted garment that gave him very much the look of a caterpillar; and he had a marlinspike dangling round his neck, for he had meant to take a hand in the making of a new mainsail. He looked attentively at Stephen to make out what kind of man he was, and with that mixture of easy grace and friendly deference which comes naturally to so many sailors he made his bow and said, 'Well, sir, where do you choose to start? Shall we go into the top directly You can see the whole run of the deck from up there.'
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'It is a pleasure to hear a man who thoroughly understands his profession. You are very exact, sir.'
'Oh, I hope the captains will say the same, sir.' cried Mowett. 'When next we put into Gilbraltar I am to go for my lieutenant's examination again. Three senior captains sit upon you; and last time a very devilish captain asked me how many fathoms I should need for the main crowfoot, and how long the euphroe was. I could tell him now: it is fifty fathoms and the euphroe is fourteen inches. I believe I could tell him anything that can even be attempted to be measured, except perhaps for the new mainyard, and I shall measure that with my tape before dinner. Should you like to hear some dimensions, sir?'
'I should like it of all things.'
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'And this, sir, is where we live,' said Mowett, advancing his lantern into the midshipmen's berth. 'Pray, mind the beam. I must beg your indulgence for the smell: it is probably young Babbington here.'
'Oh, it is not!' cried Babbington, springing up from his book. 'You are cruel, Mowett,' he whispered, with seething indignation.
Master and Commander
Jack hosts a ball
Deserting the supper-table, three sailors, including Admiral James, pursued Diana into the orangery; but they withdrew when they saw Stephen waiting for her there with her shawl.
'I did not think the doctor had it in him,' said Mowett. 'In the Sophie we always looked on him as a sort of monk.'
Post Captain
Jack's letter to Sophie
….I shall be glad to see Turnbull leave the ship at the Cape, and to receive young Mowett again.
Desolation Island
Stephen turns up late for their departure
'Upon my word, Doctor,' said Mowett, the officer of the watch, 'you have cut it pretty fine, I must say. You very nearly made us miss our tide. What was you thinking of? and you are wet – sopping wet. How did you get so wet?'
Mr Pullings, standing by the weather-rail, looking stiff and remote, said, 'The rendezvous was for the height of flood two tides ago, sir,' with no kind word of greeting.
Stephen had known Mowett and Pullings since they were mere snotty reefers of no consequence whatsoever, and at any other time he would have snapped them as tight shut as a snuff-box; but now their vast moral superiority, the general strong mute disapprobation of the Worcester's company, and his own wet misery left him without a word, and although in the depths of his mind he was half aware that this harshness was at least in part assumed, that is belonged to the naval idea of fun he had so often suffered from, he could not bring himself to respond.
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'Here you are, Doctor,' cried Pullings, shaking his hand. 'On time to the second.' He was smiling all over his tanned friendly face, but there was more than a hint of anxiety in his eye, and he went on, 'Poor Mowett is afraid he upset you, sir, playing off his humours when you came aboard: it was only for our fun, you know, sir, but we were afraid you might not have twigged it, being, as I might saw, so uncommonly damp.'
'Never in my life, my dear,' said Stephen. 'What are you drinking?'
'Two-water grog.'
'Then pray give me a glass. William Mowett, your very good health….'
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Pullings thrust in his knife, thrust in his spoon, and his anxiety gave way to triumph. 'There, Doctor,' he said, passing Stephen his plate, 'There's my surprise – there's your real welcome aboard.'
'Bless me,' cried Stephen, staring at his goose and truffle pie – more truffle than goose – 'Mr Pullings, joy, I am amazed, amazed and delighted.'
'I hoped you might be,' said Pullings, and he explained to the others that long ago, when first made lieutenant, he had seen that the Doctor loved trubs, so he had gone out into the forest, the New Forest, where he lived by land, and had dug him a basket, by way of welcome aboard: and Mowett had composed a song.
'Welcome aboard, welcome aboard,' sang Mr Mowett
'Sober as Adam or drunk as a lord
Eat like Lucullus and drink like a king,
Doze in your hammock while sirens do sing,
Welcome, dear Doctor, oh welcome aboard,
Welcome aboard,
Welcome aboard.'
The others ground their glasses on the table, chanting 'Welcome aboard, welcome aboard,' and then drank to him in the thin harsh purple liquid that passed for claret in the Worcester's wardroom.
The Ionian Mission
And their officers were not much better, either: Mowett and Rowan, the other lieutenant, had both been to the Sappers' ball, ad they had evidently competed in drinking deep by land, just as they competed in versemanship by sea; and both were suffering from the effects.
Treason's Harbour
Stephen bring aboard a beautiful spy whom they all think is his mistress…
'Little do I know about Venus,' said Stephen, 'except that she is an inferior planet.'
'Oh fie,' cried she, and the purser, the Marine, and Jack made a number of gallant and sometimes quite witty remarks. Mowett and Rowan, however, who might have been expected to shine with uncommon brilliance, remained mute, smiling and gazing and chuckling to themselves….
Treason's Harbour
But his voice changed entirely as he was set down on deck and found his old shipmate james Mowett standing there to receive him. 'Why, James Mowett, joy, how happy I am to see you. But what are you doing here? I thought you were to be first of the Illustrious.'
'So I am, sir. William Babbington is just giving me a lift to Gibraltar.'
'Of course, of course. Tell, how does your book come along?'
Mowett's exceptionally cheerful face clouded slightly: 'Well, sir, publishers are most hellish – ' he began. But Babbington interrupted to welcome the Doctor aboard…
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"Mr Mowett,' called Stephen in the pause while the table was clearing to make room for the pudding, and the pudding-wine – in this case Frontignan and Canary – was handing about. 'you were telling me about your publishers.'
'Yes, sir: I was about to say that they were most hellish procrastinators – '
'Oh how dreadful,' cried Fanny. 'Do they go to – to special houses, or do they …'
'He means they delay,' said Babbington.
'Oh.'
'Yes, The book was supposed to come out on the Glorious first of June; then it was put off to Trafalgar pay; and now they say nothing but the anniversary of Camperdown will really suit the public mind. Yet at least it has this advantage – I can polish what is already down and I can add a new piece I have written.'
'Tip us the new piece, Mowett,' said Pullings.
'Yes, do,' said both Babbington and Fanny.
'Well, said Mowett with mixed pleasure and modesty, 'it is rather long. So if I may, ma'am' – bowing to Fanny – 'I will just say the end verses: it is about a battle, and these lines are meant to show the carnage at its height….
The Letter of Marque