My dear Bean02, there's a lot yet to happen... but, please send brownies asap - I'm kinda hungry. :-D
Flossy, thanks - don't worry about the ending yet. More drama and mortal danger ahead!
Krees-tee-nah, thank you for taking the time to read and write such a detailed review. :-) Your right when you point out that description is my weak point. I sometimes think it's because I can see the action so clearly in my mind, but it's probably because I'm too lazy and just want to get to the action. If I ever take this story as a whole and revamp/edit/fine-tune, I'll be sure to develop more detailed description.
Legrace, you and Finrod taught me everything about writing. I am honored to learn at the feet of greatness!
Well, any thoughts about a happy or bittersweet ending?
More quotes:
'…He brought a message from young Mowett, taken in Peacock and wounded, but doing well in New York .'
They talked of Mowett, a most engaging young man with a literary turn, and Stephen recited some of his verse….
The Fortune of War
A muffled thump, the door flew open, Pullings and Mowett walked in, very fine in their roastbeef coats, and pleasant it was to see their frank, open delight at finding their old shipmate Babbington. They had all three been midshipmen in Jack's first command; they had sailed together in some of his later ships; and although Babbington, the youngest, was already a commander and likely to be made a post-captain in a year or two, and the others were only lieutenants and likely to remain in that rank for the rest of their lives unless they had the luck to take part in a successful action, there was not the least sign of jealousy, nor of any repining at a system that, with merit roughly equal, would probably make Babbington a comfortably-housed admiral by the end of his career while they lived on a half-pay of a hundred and nine pounds ten shillings a year. The only word that showed any awareness at all came late in the cheerful meal, when Jack, having observed that if this breeze held and that if the transport did not keep them hanging about at Palermo they should make an amazingly brisk passage, asked, 'Who has the Polyphemus now?'
No one knew. A Transport Agent or even a Transport Commander was a desperately obscure person, outside all hope of promotion, almost outside the service. 'Some broken-winded old lieutenant, I dare say,' said Pullings, and then with a wry grin he added, "Not but what I may be precious glad to hoist a plain blue pennant and command a transport myself, one of these days.'
The Ionian Mission
He was smiling openly when Stephen walked in, looking shrewish. Like many large, florid, good-natured men, Jack Aubrey was afflicted with an undue proportion of small pale, meager friends of a shrewish turn.
The Ionian Mission
'But,' said Jack, 'so many have passed since the beginning of the war, and so many have been made lieutenants, that now there are more on the list than there can be employment for, let alone promotion; so some years ago men of no particular family found they were being left on shore. They had not passed for gentlemen, and they did not possess the friends or connections that could make interest doe them, though sometimes they were capital seamen. Tom Pullings could not find a ship for a great while: and of course no ship, no promotion. I did my best, naturally, but I was away much of the time, and anyhow one scheme after the other came to nothing: just before they gave me the Worcester I took him to dine at Slaughter's with Rowlands of the Hebe, who had lost a lieutenant overboard. they got along well enough, but afterwards Rowlands told me he did not choose to have anyone on his quarterdeck who did not say balcóny, and unfortunately poor Tom had said bálcony. It is the old story of the gentleman captains and the tarpaulins all over again.'….
'Your ideal is a gentleman who is also a seaman?'
'I suppose so. But that would exclude Cook and many other men of the very first rate. As a rough rule it might answer for the common run, but it seems to me that your really good sea-officer is always an exceptional being, and one that ordinary rules scarcely apply to. Tom Pullings, for example: he may not be another Howe or Nelson, but I am quite certain he would make a far better captain than most – we do not often have occasion to talk of balconies at sea….'
The Ionian Mission
…Mr Pullings, or the Maiden as the Kutaliotes called him because of his mild face and gentle manners….
The Ionian Mission
Much of the night he spent on deck, watching the clouds scud from the north as he passed up and down, irritating the harbour-watch and absolutely terrifying Mowett as he crept back from a venereal assignation…
The Ionian Mission
What particularly grieves me is that it will put it even farther out of my power to do anything for Tom Pullings. If he is ever to be promoted commander and employed in that rank, it must be tolerably soon; for no one wants a greybeard in a sloop of war, nor even a man of thirty-five.
The Ionian Mission
Trapped
Early morning on the island held a fine mist when the heat of the water, sand, and earth met the cool night air, and Jack put on his coat before going to take a look at the weather. After nodding good morning to those who were already up, he scanned the sky and judged that there would be no weather change. He had no need of a barometer to tell him that: any real sailor could tell. The high tide would come mid-afternoon and there was time enough for a meal ashore before a leisurely transfer back to the ship.
As he contemplated wind, tide, and weather, he caught sight of someone making his way towards the camp from the east. With a dark frown of disapproval, he turned to watch as his dependable lieutenant escorted the lady: both of them were wet-haired and dressed in clean clothes while carrying their bundled laundry with them. No doubt they had gone to bathe in the pools of fresh water at the foot of the waterfalls. His expression became even more sour as they came closer, for he grew angrier to see that neither of them even feigned embarrassment.
"Good morning, sir," they greeted, and the two of them looked at him with interest as if they wondered at the cause of his obvious displeasure on such a fine day. "The lady wished to take advantage of the early hour and have a bathe before the men were up and about," explained Tom without even a flicker of shame.
"Ma'am, will you excuse us?" Jack said stiffly.
"Yes, of course." She looked back and forth between them in confusion before leaving them.
First, he stood there looking at Tom, wondering how such a fine man and sterling officer could behave in such a profligate manner. It must have been the woman, of course, who had lead poor Tom astray. "This is most improper," he said quietly so as not to be overheard.
The lieutenant looked at him with such wide-eyed, innocence that Jack began to think that they had just been bathing in privacy. "Oh, no, sir. She did not wish to wake the doctor, so I was sentry so she could bathe in peace without one of the men stumbling upon her. It was all quite proper. Well, as proper as is possible in such a place."
"Be that as it may, there'll be no more of this. I'll not have the ship degenerate into little more than a bawdy house. I've known you many years, Tom, and I never thought to see you play the cad and expose a lady to such talk.
His face flushed in shame. Certainly if the captain had heard the men's talk then it must be very bad.
When he saw the other man's terrible shock, Jack pitied him and his anger evaporated. "Now, you said that you made the lady an offer and that she has accepted. When do you intend to marry? For you cannot carry on this way."
Knowing that his actions had injured his lady's reputation tormented the poor man. "No, sir. I would have taken her to church in Kingston, but she wished to wait till her part in this mission was over. I have behaved badly, sir."
Jack nodded slowly and sighed. "Very well. We shall salvage what we may, and the men seem to hold her in some esteem. Speak to her and see when she will agree to – "
A loud call interrupted them, "Sir!" One of the younger midshipmen, out of breath, came running. "You're to come right away. Two ships, sir. Two sails."
"What?" Jack asked aghast. Men had overheard the boy's cry and were appearing to hear what was being said.
"Two ships off the windward side of the island, sir," the youngster gasped still trying to regain his breath. He raised his arm and pointed up to the cliffs on the east. "We climbed up for a look round."
"Fetch my glass," Jack called to one of the ship's boys. Everyone seemed to be awake now and all attention was on the captain. "Mr. Mowett, Mr. Allen, we must transfer back to the ship as quickly as we may. Mr. Pullings, let us take a look – Mrs. Stirling, will you not join us?"
It was a command rather than a question, and she nodded, looking pale and wide-eyed. The sleepy morning was soon a memory as the sounds of bustling activity filled the still-cool air. Jack set off with the others following the midshipmen who had sighted the two sails and hoped that this was all easily explained.
The officers met in the captain's cabin directly after luncheon, for they had all seen not two but three ships lying in wait for them – one of them being the Walrus. Through their telescopes, they had been able to study the pirates and count the overwhelming numbers against them. A little apart from the others, Rose sat looking pale and motionless as one turned to stone. The change in her had been swift: from merry, devil-may-care to stunned. As she sat there in silence, the men discussed the situation and searched for options.
Stephen studied their serious, worried expressions as they went back and forth, discussing and disagreeing, trying to come up with some plan. As of yet, they had agreed only on one thing: that they had time on their side. There was plenty of food and fresh water on the island. If only there had been an endless supply of grog, they could have held out indefinitely, he thought with a wry grin.
"There may be a chance to even the odds," Jack mused aloud. "The Walrus is badly-handled and without discipline. You all saw it."
"Poor discipline or not, we cannot stand to battle with three ships," said Allen. "We'd be badly outgunned."
"Not if we take the Walrus," said Jack. He gazed at each of them with a glint in his eye.
"Sir, they will know that we can only depart at high tide," said Tom. "They'll be ready and waiting for us."
"Which is why we'll do it at low tide. A small party will row out under the cover of darkness. Mrs. Stirling can dictate the specifics of the ship, and she has also assured me that they'll set no watch and will likely be in their cups. If we could take the Walrus out of commission, we should be able to handle the other two."
They all stared at him in silence; for an uncomfortable minute, the only sound was the gentle slosh of the water against the ship. "Forgive me, sir, but such a mission is suicide," said Mr. Allen quietly.
"If we wait long enough, one of them, at least, will have to go for supplies," Stephen suggested.
"And more might come, and then we'll have no chance," Tom sighed.
Jack sat back in his chair. "They won't be expecting us at night, and we have another point in our favor: rum."
"Perhaps…" Rose said slowly. "Perhaps the captain is right." It was the first thing she had said.
"Yes?" Jack prodded.
She was frowning and biting her lip as she considered it. "They won't be prepared for boarders at night. That, and we know their weakness as well."
"Rum," Mowett supplied.
"As I said," reminded Jack.
"Besides that," she continued. "Those men are brave and ruthless despite their lawless ways, but they're a gang of the silliest fishwives when it comes to superstition. There'll be no man aboard there who hasn't got a mortal fear of Flint – or his spirit."
As they were turning over this idea and silently examining it for usefulness, Stephen spoke up. "Do these superstitious fellows know of the skeletons guarding the cavern?"
First she nodded a little with her eyes unfocused and her mind far away. Getting up, she paced to the stern and gazed out the open window at the turquoise lagoon and the white sand. "They will be very afraid. And we… well, we may use it to our advantage."
"What do you suggest?" asked Jack, looking at her uncertainly.
Unconsciously, she folded her arms tightly and began to pace. "Those ill-gotten gains were set there years ago. Six men rowed my father and I ashore, and we were eight in all who set it in the cave." With a deep, resigned sigh, she shook her head. "He killed them all. Every man. That is why there are six skeletons, because he wouldn't leave a man alive who knew where it was hidden. Dead men cannot speak of what they know." Shivering a little, even in the heat, she hugged herself even more tightly. "Of course, he lead the rest of the men to believe that I had taken part in the murders, for he wanted them all to fear me as they did him." She turned to look seriously at Jack. "And they do. Well, almost as much."