Glad to see Flossy is around and feeling better, and good to see you again, too, Bean. Well, school starts on Wednesday, and I wanted to get the last few chapters at least outlined before it does. Now that things are getting down to the nitty-gritty, it's getting harder to write. In the end, I hope that all will be explained.

Bean, as for little Silvester Stirling, he is every bit as adorable as Christopher, but he's about 2 years older andis thus bigger. Besides that, they look quite alike - two adorable little "toy soldiers" among the midshipmen.

A Father's Legacy

The commodore returned without Rose a very short time later and was in time to hear the tale of their adventures almost from the beginning. Jack told most of the story, and then Stephen and finally Tom anxiously repeated his report on what had occurred aboard the Walrus.

"Orange blossom?" asked the admiral as if he had received a powerful shock. For a horrible few seconds, he looked almost faint. "Mr. Pullings, are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

The poor nervous lieutenant swallowed and said, "Yes, sir, there is no doubt."

"You think he might have invented such a thing?" Hawkes asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice

Admiral Bellows frowned at Hawkes. "Have you spoken to Rose of this?" he asked, striving to sound businesslike but looking pale.

"No. Her grief has made her dull and taciturn, and she speaks to almostno one."

A heavy silence fell. Bewildered, Jack, Stephen, Tom, and Commodore Bellows looked back and forth between the two of them. "What is it?" asked the commodore. "What significance does it have? Was there another woman on board?"

"I don't know," said the admiral slowly. "David?"

Hawkes shook his head. "I have no idea what to think."

"There certainly was no other woman on board," Tom Pullings told them. "Such a secret could not have been kept on such an ill-run ship."

Again, there was a brief silence before the admiral got up and went over to the sideboard for a knife. "Well, then, we shall occupy ourselves with sorting through these papers. Among the six of us, it should go quickly." He reached for one of the sealskin pouches, and after cutting the thong that bound it closed, passed the knife to the commodore.

Each of them opened one of the packets and began to unfold the parchment inside. Stephen frowned down at his. There were two sealed letters. The first was a letter addressed to Rose Flint. "This seems to be a letter for Rose," he said, setting it aside. The other was addressed to David Flint. Stephen stared down at it and fought the urge to glance at Hawkes. David Flint? As casually as he could, he drew back Rose's letter and set this one under it. After that, he allowed himself to look up.

The others were reading or shuffling through parchments with similar expressions: frowning and disbelieving. "This one is from Ardley," Jack said slowly, naming the man who had been secretary to the late Admiral Feeney for a dozen years.

"As is this," said Hawkes.

"This is from Feeney himself," said the commodore.

"I've got one from Paul Hexley," said Tom Pullings, looking pale, for Hexley was a close aide of Admiral Stockwell.

The others all stopped and stared at him. "Stockwell," said Admiral Bellows in a near whisper, for the man had been a friend and comrade of his for forty years.

"These letters are set in order by date already," said Hawkes as he shuffled his papers. "Perhaps we should put them all together and then start a reckoning."

The admiral drew in a deep breath and passed a hand over his face. "Yes, yes, of course," he agreed. "David, why don't you take charge of that?"

"Certainly." From Jack on his left, he took one bunch, and from Jack's left, he took the commodore's bunch and filed them together. As Hawkes compiled them chronologically, the other men reached to open other pouches. Soon, the table was littered with stacks of letters and other documents, all perfectly preserved: the story of Old Flint's lifetime of piracy and murder.

Upon her entrance, Rose stopped and took in the strange and unexpected sight with wide eyes. As before, she appeared tired and perhaps a bit ill, but some sort of gentleness had dissolved the rest of her foul mood. The gentlemen who had been sitting got to their feet until she went to her chair between Hawkes and Pullings. "Rose," said Stephen. "Here is a letter for you." He picked up both letters and handed them to her as one.

"Thank you," she replied, looking at the top one before shuffling for the second one. When she read the name, she frowned, glanced at Stephen on her right, who was looking down at the next sealskin pouch to be opened, and handed it to Hawkes. In turn, he looked at it, frowned at her, and opened the seal to read it. When she opened hers, she cleared her throat.

"My dearest wild Rose,

If you have come to read this, then perhaps I'm gone to Davy Jones or have been strung up and left to sun dry on execution dock. Whatever way I went, I hope you – "

Her voice cracked with emotion, she was ridiculously pale, so she stopped reading and handed the letter to Stephen. "Shall I continue reading out loud?" he asked. When he saw her nod, he cleared his throat and began.

"My dearest wild Rose,

If you have come to read this, then perhaps I'm gone to Davy Jones or have been strung up and left to sun dry on Execution Dock. Whatever way I went, I hope you wept a little and smiled to recall me. For certain, I think on you every waking day. I hear you have a second babe, another boy now, and I'm sure your husband is well-pleased, but tell him he must give you a girl next time. How useless are sons! No, it is a daughter that becomes a man's life and joy.

"You may think that I blamed you for jumping ship when we were shorthanded. It is not true. In fact, I was right glad that you took that fine man and married him. I could not have picked better for you. I knew from the first that he was quality, and I saw the way the two of you felt about the other. In the end, I knew you would go, and I figured the lad would give you a better life than you would have had among my cutthroats and brigands, but I could not let you go unopposed and keep the ship. Had the men seen me let the prize go and endure your desertion, they would have cast me off as captain, or worse. That is the reason I fired upon you.

"What's done is done, I always say. Now, as you are reading this, I shall tell you that herein is a list of all the blessed 'gentlemen' who have done business with me. Wrapped up safe are the written words to damn them all, if you will. I cannot guess who your enemies will be when you come to take this, but believe me, all you need do is take the correct papers that correspond to your enemies' crimes to Old Sam Bellows, and sure enough, you will see the bastards tried and hanged.

"Perhaps you will not think so badly of me when you see how many men were traitors and criminals behind the hypocritical church-going Sunday faces they showed the world. After everything, your mother and I were at least honest about what we were and never turned traitor. I trust you will share this with David, and if you have the chance to tell Old Sam, your mother and I rested ever easy knowing the two of you were in his care, especially after what happened to our Ben.

I remain, eternally,

Your loving father,

JF"

Stephen cleared his throat again. "There's a list afterwards. Many men, some of them well known. Admirals Feeney and Stockwell are here as well as Pitt." He handed the list to Admiral Bellows who looked at it with a deep frown.

"Caswell, Frederickson, Remington... Massner..."

"Frederickson is still in Nassau, I think, for major repairs," said Hawkes.

The admiral passed the letter to the commodore, who read it before passing it to Jack. "What's to be done, sir?"

"Well... we shall arrest Pitt in Nassau and Frederickson if he is stillhere. And then, we'll go after the others. It will be a grim chore, lads." He drew in a deep breath and shook his head. "Stockwell! I can scarcely believe it." There was a glum pause as Jack passed the list to Hawkes, who hardly glanced at it before giving it to Tom Pullings.

"I hope you will forgive me, sir," said Rose somewhat weakly to Admiral Bellows, "but I am feeling quite unwell. I shall go back to the Surprise"

Before she had finished speaking, Stephen had risen from his chair and gone to place his hand upon her brow. "There is no fever," he said, but frowned as he pulled down her lower eyelids. "Perhaps you are a bit anemic."

"Of course, dear, but before you go," began the admiral, "Lieutenant Pullings reported on your time aboard the Walrus."

"I am certain that his account was perfectly accurate," she remarked, looking peaky and still seeming a bit softened by her father's posthumous letter as Stephen felt for the pulse in one of her wrists.

"I have no doubt, but the question remains: did you also catch the scent of orange blossoms?"

In surprise, she glanced at Tom. "Did you?" she asked. Before he could reply, however, she added, "I suppose you did," more slowly and thoughtfully.

"What?" whispered Hawkes, and when the others looked at him, his face was unnaturally white and there was a haunted look in his eyes.

Holding his gaze, she put her free hand on his. "I should have told you earlier."

Hawkes gripped her hand but said nothing. Stephen let go of her wrist and returned to his chair without saying anything.

Rose glanced at Admiral Bellows, who was regarding her strangely, and around at the others, who were very confused. "My mother always wore orange blossoms, both the perfume and the flowers. My father complained in a teasing way that the ship stank of them, but I think he really didn't mind."

"Your mother?" asked the commodore.

"Yes, it was she who tried to kill that fool George Morton with the marlinspike, for she was not trying to frighten him, that is for certain," she went on, rubbing her eyes with one hand. "And it was she who pushed Tom out of the way of his pistol shot."

"Rose, pray, tell us," said Stephen very gently, "how we came to see your mother's grave in Savannah?"

"I'm sorry, Stephen, but your scientist's mind is too narrow to comprehend," she told Stephen without malice.

"Did you see her?" asked the admiral sounding oddly out of breath.

"No, but I heard her and felt her." She leaned her head in his hand. "David, if you would, please take me back to the Surprise."

"Of course," replied the captain of the Gallant, tucking his own letter into an inner pocket as he stood up.

"Shall I come as well?" asked Stephen.

"By no means." The lady rose and took Hawkes's arm, leaning heavily on him. "By the goddess, I intend to sleep twelve hours straight."

"Rose, my dear girl, when shall we speak more of this?" asked Admiral Bellows.

"There is nothing more I can say, no words of comfort to be spoken. But I will speak of it if you wish," she promised. "When all this is done."

"I shall check on you in the morning and this time, I shall expect to give you a full examination," Stephen told her seriously with a concerned frown.

"If you please," she sighed as she made her way with Hawkes's help towards the door. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

"I shall return presently," Hawkes said by way of farewell, and when the door had been shut behind them, the admiral sat looking around at his son, Jack, Tom, and Stephen.

"Excuse me, sir," said Jack, "but in Flint's letter, when he says David, does he mean Captain Hawkes? And who is Ben?"

At firs, Admiral Bellows sat gazing at each of them, thinking; then he rubbed his hand over his face and heaved and enormous sigh. "Unfortunately, we shall have no answers to those questions and others tonight. I am afraid that we must have poor Rose tell us more, so we will wait. For today, let us set ourselves to sorting these papers and preparing the case against each man for smuggling, murder, or treason."

"Or all three," added Stephen.

"Yes, indeed, doctor," said the admiral. "And tomorrow, the Surprise and the Gallant will sail into Nassau to take Pitt and Frederickson if he is there. Theo will bring the Coventry in at the next tide. In addition, we shall have Rose onboard with us – for safety's sake. We cannot be too careful after the attack of the pirates in Kingston, for they've certainly been to Nassau first and who knows what they've told Pitt."

"Of course, of course," said Jack.

"If Mrs. Stirling is as unwell as I believe she is, well, then I shall stay with her," said Stephen.

"I would be much obliged if you would," replied the elder Bellows. "To me, she looks like one who has malaria or some such tropical fever."