Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Lyman W. Allen.

Chapter 18: The Coming of His Feet

"I knew you'd go soft on him," he said bitterly.

But his biting remark didn't affect Camille for an instant. "There's nothing soft about a strong friendship, Jack. I don't want you to forget that," she said, gently touching his arm. She leaned forward and gave Will another hug. "Goodbye, Will."

"Be careful."

"I will. Goodbye, darling," she said, giving Cadence a kiss. She went back into the house, where there was much commotion going on inside. Gabriel was descending the staircase with bags, and Priscilla was helping him as best she could. Gretchen of course, was pouting. She was sitting on the sofa, and the only one not doing something.

"Gretchen, you are coming with us, are you not?" Camille posed.

"I certainly am not. The sea is no place for a lady like me," Gretchen replied, with tears on her face.

"I think that one way or another, you're going to find yourself on that ship," Camille said apologetically as she climbed the stairs. On the way to her bedroom she nearly ran into Ana Maria. She noticed that Ana was not wearing nice clothes, either, but her old dress. "Are you coming with us?"

"Of course I am, I can't afford to let Jack screw this up. The man's on the verge of goin' mad!" Ana Maria exclaimed.

Camille grinned as she quickly changed and packed up her things. They were in the middle of saying goodbye to Annie and the children when Jack burst in and continued stomping through the house. Obviously he and Will had not been able to reach a compromise.

"What is everyone still doing here, there is a deck in extreme need of attention!" he shouted. "We are sailing for Colombia in exactly half an hour's time, and if you are not on the Pearl you will find a worse fate!"

Gabriel looked up from the mountain of suitcases he was taking out to the coach, and Ana Maria continued her goodbyes, but the rest scurried around even faster.

Gretchen stood up, her arms crossed. "I am not going, Captain. I refuse t--"

"Miss Thatcher, I am in absolutely no mood to hear your bitching, you dastardly excuse for a woman! Now GET ON MY SHIP!" he roared.

Gretchen's eyes went wide. She shut her mouth, picked up her suitcases, and almost literally flew out the door. Camille followed not far behind her. She could still clearly remember the time that Jack had berated her, and wanted no part of his stormy mood. And speaking of stormy, the clouds above didn't look too friendly. Especially toward the water.

Gabriel came down next, carrying most of Gretchen's luggage and loading it onto the coach. "He's going to get us killed, setting sail in this weather."

"With any luck, he will be at ease merely being anchored on the Pearl," Camille hoped. "But how are we going to set out with the six of us?"

"We spent most of the day yesterday looking for sailors. It wasn't an easy task."

"Ah."

Gretchen was ready to walk all the way, she was so terrified from Jack's explosion. Camille looked back to make sure that Jack was at least civil to Annie, Peter, and Sheila, who he had absolutely no reason to have quarrels with. She could see him storming out the door, not even bothering to look back.

Camille smiled and waved at the three of them. She looked back to see Gretchen in the first coach. Ana Maria was next. She explained heatedly that there was no way she would ride with Jack, and in an undertone, that this would be a rare moment where she would be able to tolerate Gretchen. Gabriel was neutral for the most part.

"Priscilla, why don't you ride with Jack and me?" Camille suggested. "Perhaps it would brighten his mood if you asked him questions about sailing, and I think that you would be more appropriate than your sister."

"I should think so," Priscilla said, lifting her nose a little as she got into the coach. She peeked out as Camille got in. Jack was coming closer. "Is he always like this when he is mad?"

"Yes," Camille admitted. "He has about as much trouble managing his anger as your sister does managing her attitude."

Priscilla made a face. "Oh, I see."

Jack didn't look at either one of them. Camille thought for a moment, looking at Priscilla. But the girl just shrugged. Their plan had backfired. "So, have you ever been on a ship before? Besides on the way from the Fuego, I mean," Camille said.

"Not really, though I did venture out on a small raft once when I was younger. That got me in quite a bit of trouble."

Camille laughed. "When we get to the Pearl, I'll show you my favorite spot to sit and watch the stars. You don't get seasick, do you?"

"No, but Gretchen does something awful. She'll probably look like a corpse during the first few days."

"She'll adapt. When I began sailing, I remember how the nausea felt. It was awful. Perhaps I'll teach you cards as well," she suggested.

"That would be wonderful! Than I would have something to do while the rest of the ship was out drinking and sleeping with numerous women."

At this, Jack couldn't help but chuckle. Camille looked at him. "Did you tell her that?"

"No, it was Gabriel," Priscilla said.

"And how would he know that, I wonder?"

"He told me that you told him when you…"

Camille's face blushed when Priscilla trailed off. She shook her head, hoping that Jack would not look up.

"…were at our house, at the dinner party," Priscilla finished gracefully. What a clever girl. Camille breathed a sigh of relief before she felt a few drops on her arm and face.

"Oh," she said disappointedly. "It looks as if a storm is headed our way. Are we going to set sail through this weather, Captain?" she asked, addressing him for the first time in the duration of the ride. One look from him, and she cleared her throat. "I suppose we'll just have to buckle down, then," she said cheerfully.