I sit up instantly, my mind racing.
There is an entire cache of rum hidden on this island. If I set its contents on fire, surely the smoke will rise high enough for someone to see it. Commodore Norrington must have several ships out looking for me. There may yet be a way to escape this island!
I look over at Sparrow, who now lies prostrate on the sand.
Perhaps rum is good for something.
I jump up without further hesitation. Taking a smoldering torch from the bonfire, I run through the palm trees to the open cargo door. The cargo hole is quite large. Starting with the bottles on the shelves, I carry them one by one up the ladder. The cans of fish are next. I add them to the pile.
After emptying the contents of the entire cargo hole, I'm satisfied. The pile of crates reaches half my height. Once I light it on fire, the flames will go on for hours and the smoke for even longer.
At last, hope starts to swell within me.
I start pulling out crates and setting them side by side so that they're all touching. I pile them on top of one another and pour some rum out on top of them. I set a small pile of crates aside to fuel the fire when it starts to burn low. Next, I take two pieces of trunk from a fallen palm tree and begin to rub them together to start a fire. I don't have much luck at first. The bark is wet with dew. I set them out in the sun and wait for them to dry. While waiting, I collect palm leaves, leftover wood from the bonfire, and anything else that will burn.
After about an hour, I return to rub the pieces of wood together. This takes much of my patience away, but at last the bark slowly begins to produce a wisp of grey smoke. I rub the pieces back and forth, faster and faster. Suddenly, there is an orange spark and the wood ignites. I throw the pieces onto the crates of rum. The moment the bark touches the rum, some of the crates burst open. I crouch in fright. Dark soot floats over me, tangling in my hair and darkening my chemise. The tips of the palm leaves have caught fire and are now slowly turning into ash. I stand up slowly, admire my handiwork, and then smile. This is going better than I thought.
The next time I throw in a barrel of rum, I'm ready. I duck into a ball just as the barrel explodes, and then I stand up and do it again. I look at the smoke rising into the sky, higher and higher. I sit down on the white sand beach and watch the smoke proudly. I feel as if it's going to touch the sun, which is now high in the afternoon sky. My stomach grumbles a little. I can't remember the last time I ate.
It's okay Elizabeth, I promise myself. A navy ship will eventually appear. You'll be able to eat soon. You'll be on your way to save Will.
An hour later, I feed the fire again. Rum blasts into oblivion as a puff of fire swallows pile the crates. I duck as they explode, and then throw in more cargo.
"No! Not good! Stop! Not good!" Calls a voice from behind me.
Sparrow runs up, his mouth hanging open. I walk past him, hardly caring about whatever he is going to say next. His love for rum is what is going to keep us on this God-forsaken island.
"What are you doing?" He demands. "You burned all the food, the shade! The rum!"
"Yes, the rum is gone," I snap.
"Why is the rum gone?"
"One," I round on him, raising my voice, "because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two, that signal is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me and do you really think that there is even the slightest chance they won't see it?"
"But why is the rum gone?" Sparrow repeats.
I collapse onto the sand in exasperation.
"Just wait Captain Sparrow. You give it one hour, maybe two, you keep a weather eye open and you will see white sails on that horizon."
I am halfway to Will already.
Sparrow walks away without saying another word. I know he's furious with me, but I have no desire to stop him. Maybe I'll get lucky and he won't be around when I'm picked up by a British ship.
Blasted pirate, I think miserably, cursing myself for the fiftieth time for my curiosity about piracy.
I scan the surface of the ocean, looking for anything that might suggest a ship.
What if I'm too late? The thought pops into my head before I can stop it. What if the Pearl has already arrived at Isla de Muerta? What if Will is . . . ?
I shake my head.
No. Don't think about that.
I continue to look out at the sea. The sun beats down on my arms and neck. I squint my eyes and put a hand up to cover them from the sun. I'm so anxious to get off this island that I start hallucinating clouds for sails. I notice that one cloud looks particularly odd, as it seems to be getting closer.
And then I see it.
A mast. Sails. A ship. A ship has come for me! And it is none other than the HMS Dauntless. I have no doubt Commodore Norrington is upon it.
I jump up and run to the beach, waving my arms and yelling.
"Over here! Over here!"
The Dauntless drops anchor and a rowboat is sent out. It's filled with officers dressed in red. As the rowboat nears the shore, I run out into the water to meet it.
"Miss Swann!" An officer recognizes me.
"How are you alive?"
"And why on earth is Sparrow here?"
To my utmost dismay, I see that is Sparrow running towards us.
"Hullo boys, glad you stopped by," he says as he runs up towards us. Guns are immediately placed upon him.
"Jack Sparrow, I never thought I'd see you again," says an officer, digging the barrel of his gun into Sparrow's temple. The pirate's hands twitch.
"It's Captain Jack Sparrow to you," he replies.
Two officers take his elbows and force him into the boat. He squirms uncomfortably, but ultimately goes without a fuss.
Just then, one of the officers holds out his hand to me. I look down at it for a moment and then realize he's offering to help me into the boat. I smile politely and take it, but as I sit down in the rowboat I feel strange. I had expected just to climb in myself. However, I put this out of my mind and soon we're climbing onto the Dauntless.
The face that greets me first is one I have longed to see most dearly since my kidnap at Port Royal.
"Father!" I say.
"Elizabeth? You're alive!" He exclaims. He looks unwell with pale complexion and dark circles under his eyes. I feel guilty that he's been worrying about me, but I cannot waste any more time.
"Will has been taken by Barbossa and his crew and they intend to kill him," I say quickly. "Father, we have to go to the Isla de Muerta to rescue him!"
My father laughs.
"Elizabeth, that is out of the question. We are only out here to rescue you. "
"But we've got to save Will!" I argue.
"No!" Father raises his voice. "You're safe now. We will return to Port Royal immediately—not go gallivanting after pirates!"
"Then we condemn him to death!" I struggle to keep my voice steady.
Father turns around. Beside him stands Commodore Norrington.
"The boy's fate is regrettable, but then so was his decision to engage in piracy," my father mutters.
"To rescue me. To prevent anything from happening to me!" I protest.
"If I may be so bold as to inject my professional opinion," Sparrow walks up beside me. "The Pearl was listing near to scuppers after the battle. It's very unlikely she'll be able to make good time. Think about it. The Black Pearl. The last, real pirate threat in the caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up, right?"
I look to Norrington, who stands contemplating the pirate's offer. For the first time, I am actually grateful that Jack is here.
"By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow. Not only myself," Norrington declines, turning around and walking away from us.
No. This ship is my last hope of rescuing Will. I got off that island and I am not giving up now. What can I possibly say to Commodore that will make him give in?
Oh, Elizabeth. Of course.
I squeeze past Jack and Father and follow Norrington in desperation.
"Commodore, I beg you, please do this. For me. As a wedding gift."
Commodore Norrington stops stone-still. He turns around to face me.
"Elizabeth," Father says. "Are you accepting the commodore's proposal?"
"I am," I say solemnly.
"A wedding, I love weddings! Drinks all around!" Jack shouts behind me.
Commodore looks away from me, frowning.
"I know, 'clap him in irons,' right?" Jack says sheepishly.
Norrington descends the stairs from the deck slowly.
"Mr. Sparrow, you will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with a bearing to Isla de Muerta."
Oh Commodore.
"You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of phrase 'silent as the grave.' Do I make myself clear?"
"Inescapably clear," Jack replies. The officers on either side of him take hold of his elbows and lead him away. My Father approaches the commodore.
"Commodore, I must question the wisdom of this."
"With all due respect, Governor," Commodore pauses. "Mr. Turner is a subject of the British Crown and therefore under my protection."
Father looks down and then nods.
"Rightly so." He looks briefly at me and then back at Commodore. "Take care of her."
The commodore smiles at him and Father leaves. I don't move from my spot beside the staircase. Commodore offers his elbow to me.
"Elizabeth."
I take his arm reluctantly.
This is for Will, I tell myself.
"I'm concerned that your answer was, perhaps . ." he pauses. "Less than sincere."
"I would not give my word lightly," I reply.
"Yes, I understand. But is it so wrong that I should want it given unconditionally?" He looks at me. I nod in agreement, knowing I should tread lightly with my response.
"It is not a condition, it is a request. Your answer would not change mine. You are a fine man, James." I smile at him. His mouth turns into the happiest smile I've seen on him.
"Well. Very well. Excellent. I should be returning to the helm. I will have an officer's uniform sent to you."
I look down at my soot- and sand-covered chemise. I had completely forgotten that is all that I am wearing.
"Yes, thank you," I say gratefully.
"No, thank you, Elizabeth." He touches my elbow slightly and then leaves without another word. I sigh and stare out at the ocean for a moment. Poor, poor commodore. I meant what I said to him. Being his wife will not be bad, not bad at all. But I will not feel free.
I retreat to an empty cabin below deck. I stand in the doorway until an officer comes with a uniform in his hands. I take it, thank him, and shut the cabin door. I lean against it for a moment. My thoughts are calm but not regretful. The price I pay for Will's life I would willingly pay again if given the choice.
I peel off my salty chemise and gladly exchange it for a pair of trousers, a white cotton shirt, black shoes, and a red jacket with golden buttons. I wash my face with cold water from a bucket and comb out the tangles in my hair with my fingers. A few minutes later, an officer provides me with fish and biscuits, some of which are a little stale. The Dauntless must have been at sea for a long time now. I feel a rush of affection for my father and the commodore. I knew they would not forget me.
How could Commodore forget his future wife? I think miserably. I replay the situation over and over in my mind, but I can't see how I could have produced another outcome. There wasn't a way I could save both Will and my possible future with him.
It has to be this way.
And what will I tell Will? He believes I have feelings for him and now I've pledged myself to the commodore.
What does it matter now? Will is no longer yours. You will marry Commodore. There is no going back. I've saved Will. That was my desire.
I finish eating and look out the window for a bit. The is sky darkening. We will be there soon, no doubt.
Unable to stay in the small, stuffy cabin any longer, I make my way up to the deck. The air is damp with cold mist. Not many sailors are on the deck. They must be busy preparing for the assault. Suddenly, I spot a figure standing at the ship's side. Jack. He stands motionless in the salty air. I approach him quietly and then stand by his side, staring at the waves.
"You didn't tell him about the curse," I say to him.
"I noticed neither did you," he replies. "Same reason I believe."
"He wouldn't have risked it."
"Could've gotten him drunk," Jack says with a grin. "Don't get me wrong, love, I admire a person who is willing to do whatever's necessary."
"You're a smart man, Jack, but I don't entirely trust you," I say coldly. He walks over to me. He's only a couple of inches away.
"Peas in a pod, darling."
Someone approaches us from behind Jack. The commodore. I look away quickly. He throws Jack his black compass.
"With me, Sparrow."
Neither of them say another word. I look back at the ocean.
I admire a person who is willing to do whatever's necessary, Jack's words echo in my head.