This was a hard chapter to see through to the end on my part and I will confess to finding other things to do rather than work on it. Be prepared for some harsh realities regarding the slave trade, the precarious nature of life aboard ship, and how quickly death can come to those who least deserve it. As always, thank you for my kind reviewers who keep me writing.

37.

Mrs. Croft escorted the ladies down to the Admiral's cabin. They had been there before of course, but only in the company of Sophia and only to a smallish sort of dark sitting room area which was separated from the rest of the cabin by moveable screens which were attached to the walls and could be folded away. The sitting room portion of the cabin consisted of a bench which could be folded down from the wall and a couple of foldable chairs made of canvas and wood. Mrs. Croft tugged the screens to the sides of the cabin (with help from the ladies once they realized what she was about) allowing light to stream into the room.

Anne and Mirabelle noted the sun but were too busy helping with the heavy screens to note what it revealed for the moment. It was only after Sophia finished securing the second screen to the wall with rope that lashed through a series of metal loops screwed into the wall, tying them expertly shut in a manner that was unknown to Anne or Mirabella, that the other women took a good look at the rest of the revealed cabin. The room was roughly square but for where it bowed out with the shape of the ship's nose, and a row of windows were set along this wall. A bed was tucked against the right and back of the room. On the other side, to the left were shelves above (with netting at the bottom of each shelf, to keep its contents from sliding off in rough weather) and trunks lashed to the wall. Anne recognized Sophia's trunk and imagined the slightly larger one belonged to the Admiral.

Mrs. Croft grabbed the folding chairs and arranged them by the two windows that were not above the bed. "You should see well enough from here. I shall see you after."

Before Sophia could leave, Anne grasped her hand. "I should like to help with any wounded if I may when it is all concluded."

Sophia smiled, "I will make sure to fetch you." She started away and then thought the better of it, retrieving an item from a netted shelf and handed it to Anne. "Here is the Admiral's old spyglass. It is not so fine as the one he uses now, but it may help you see a bit better what is happening."

Anne in turn handed it to Mirabella, who trained it on the now closer ship. A few moments later, Mirabella stood up, tilting the spyglass lower, toward the water.

"What is it?" Anne questioned. She had seen a bit of movement from the other ship, saw what might have been the other sailors, tiny as gnats, but what they were doing she could not fathom.

Mirabella ignored her, gasped and then lowered the spyglass. Anne saw to her astonishment that Mirabella was trembling. "Those poor people," she mumbled to herself as she turned away from the window.

"What is happening?" Anne asked again.

Mirabella shook her head. "I do not wish to see anymore." She sniffed and pressed a handkerchief over her nose and mouth for a moment, before finally taking note of the concerned woman who was standing before her. "Oh, Anne, it is everything horrible. How can they do such a thing?"

"What are they doing?" Anne asked, hopeful to finally gain some intelligence of what was occurring.

"They are throwing the slaves overboard."

It took Anne a moment to grasp what Mirabella was telling her. She sank back into a seat. Anne considered herself well informed for a woman. She had made an effort to follow the news regarding the abolitionists' efforts to pass the Slave Trade Act of 1807 and then the more recent efforts that had led to the passage of the Slave Trade Felony Act only a few months earlier, but of course her access to the news was quite limited for she was dependent upon what other people would tell her, her father not being interested in subscribing to any papers. She knew that the transportation of slaves led to many deaths while they were confined upon ships, and that sailors had no place to dispose of a body but overboard.

"Surely, surely it is just the dead," Anne responded, even as she turned back to the window, trying to make out what was happening. They were a little closer now and she saw some movement on the deck and then what might have been a splash below.

"No," cried Mirabella. "For I saw a man struggle as he was tossed, and then struggle in the water. I could not keep looking as he met his fate. How many lives will be lost just so that the slavers can escape their fines?"

"Their fines?" Anne asked, feeling foolish that she did not understand.

"Yes, their fines," Mirabella explained. "Under the Slave Trade Act, they will be fined for each slave found upon their ship, but if there are no slaves, they cannot be fined."

"But I thought that the number of slaves did not matter anymore under the new act. Is it not the act of engaging in the trade of slavery itself now that results in felonies?"

"Not yet," Mirabella replied, "it does not take effect until June 1812, so we've some months left under the old law." She handed Anne the spyglass. Anne held it for a few moments before rising and holding it to her right eye. She hoped to see something to disprove what Mirabella had told her. She trained the glass upon the deck, moving it slowly until she caught a man upon it, nearing the side, dragging something dark. He heaved and in the moment that his burden was resting on the side of the ship, she caught a flash of a gasping mouth and teeth, wide eyes, and then the African was gone, rolled over the side.

Anne sought him in the water for several anxious moments before capturing his splashing in the little window before her eye. She saw his spindly, dark arms casting out as if he might find something to hold onto. Anne sucked in her breath, did not breathe it out as she watched the tragedy. After a minute she sucked in another breath after he could not, for despite his efforts he had vanished beneath the waves and no disturbance in the water even marked where he had been. In the still rougher waves from the prior storm, even a man who knew how to swim was unlikely to last long, and if that man had any notion of swimming it had escaped him entirely in his panic.

"It cannot be," Anne exclaimed. But rather than turning away from the unfolding tragedy as Mirabella had done, she sought the deck again. Moments later, another African was flung overboard, this time a young boy. Anne kept watching, as if her watching would somehow do something. Perhaps a minute later, Anne felt the ship turn and the familiar feeling of disorder in her middle. At this turn, her view changed from the other ship to the water and sky.

"Are we leaving them to their fate?" she asked.

Mirabella said nothing. Anne learned the truth a moment later when a sharp vibration shook the ship, followed by the thunder of the cannons.

"We have fired upon them, and so will end their chance to dump more slaves. They, who have cast others into chains may soon be wearing chains themselves. Glory be to God that they shall receive their earthly punishment and for some their divine punishment right soon," Mirabella announced, a look of glee upon her face. "Now, prepare yourself Anne, for if they have the means they might yet return fire upon us."

Anne and Mirabella felt and heard their ship's cannons twice more before hearing a different pitch of cannons (Anne later learning that each weight of cannons had its own distinct sound) and the almost simultaneous shaking of their ship as they took fire. There was much shouting and running then the ladies heard what could only be rifles.

"Are they fighting up on the deck?" Anne questioned, trying to visualize what might be happening.

"Perhaps," replied Mirabella, "but more likely upon the other ship's deck. It shall all be over soon for they are out manned and out gunned. The negros shall soon be freed. All in all, this is a happy day. Hopefully no one on our ship has suffered much of an injury. As for them over there, I should rejoice if the captors all died, but I expect there shall not be many casualties when all is said and done. You wait, by and by Sophia shall come to fetch you." There was a look of grim pleasure upon Mirabella's face.

Mirabella's prediction was proven right when Mrs. Croft returned not ten minutes later. "Ah, you are both well just as I thought you would be."

The women stood. "Are there many injuries?" Anne asked, eager to put some of her training to use and be helpful.

"Only a few, and only one serious one aboard our ship. As is often the case, the most serious injuries come from splintering wood and while their guns were only eight pounders, one hit in exactly the wrong spot for an unfortunate man." Mrs. Croft grimaced and then turned to look at Mirabella, a look of pity on her face revealing that man's identity as clearly as if she had already named him.

Mirabella dropped back into her chair, and almost before she had settled down in it, her hands began twisting on her skirt, and she was biting her lip and studying the motion of her hands when Sophia spoke her next words. "Mirabella, it greatly grieves me to tell you this, but that man is Purser Perry. He is being tended to in the sick bay, but I know all too well that with his belly injuries he is unlikely to last the night. He has asked for you. Shall you come?"

Mirabella's face lost its color and although she was seated, she still swayed. Anne leaped at her, concerned that Mirabella might faint. slump to one side, and slide from her chair. Anne grasped both of Mirabella's shoulders.

Mirabella flung her arms out. "Let me be, let me master myself; I cannot bear your sympathy, your goodness." Anne released her and pivoted to her side, still anxiously observing Mirabella's countenance.

Mirabella inhaled two shaky breaths and smoothed her dress with her hands. Anne observed that her friend's skin was pinking a bit although it remained pale.

Mirabella turned her face toward Sophia. "Tell me something else, anything. How are the Negros?"

Sophia took a seat upon her bed and Anne sat upon her chair. "There are perhaps three score of captives aboard and they may not all of them be alive. We are not far from the West Indies now, and it is unusual to have a slaver captured so close to there. Usually, they are caught when departing from the coast of Africa. Fortunately, between the three ships we should have food for them, and lime juice as well, although rations for the common sailors may prove slim until we reach land and can obtain new provisions. With the lack of its main mast, the slaver shall be unable to make many miles a day. If Admiral Croft shall keep all the ships together, our speed will be limited."

"What will happen to the slaves now?" Anne asked.

"Well, we should like to release them all from their chains," Mirabella replied, "but a ship cannot be sailed without order, and with no one who can speak to them, and them likely having several tongues, it will be difficult to communicate our intentions. As for what shall occur to them after that, well England's practice is to make them serve for some years as indentured servants to pay for the cost of their rescue and to train them toward a useful occupation. They shall not be going back to Africa; instead, they might remain on the islands or be sent to England."

Mirabella rose to her feet. "I am ready now."

"I shall come as well," Anne announced.

"Do as you wish, but do not touch me. The slightest pity will undo me."

Anne nodded and they shuffled out of the Admiral's cabin single file, Sophia in the lead and Anne bringing up the rear.

Anne's heart ached for Mirabella. Although Mirabella had not even accepted Purser Perry's courtship yet, which he had offered when she made no reply to his proposal of marriage, Anne had felt certain that she would and had rejoiced for her friend, that she might finally gain a purpose and the joy she had been missing. It would have been an apt resolution, for her to gain what she had given up every having again. But instead that happiness was being snatched away. It was not fair, not fair at all.

Anne felt keenly how easily the same situation could apply to her and Captain Wentworth. She might reach him only to find out that a fever had taken him, or some glancing injury had proved to be gangrenous. She could very easily be reunited with him only to lose him to death. It was the way of the world, and the hazards of sailing specifically and life generally contained many potential ways to snatch life away.

Although Anne knew that Frederick believed he had good luck, and his rise in the navy had borne that out, Anne had such no faith in luck. Luck had not been with her in losing her mother, in losing Frederick, in being raised in a family where she had very little significance to those who should have loved her dearly. Instead of luck, it was the determined actions of others who were guiding her toward Frederick's side now.

As their steps brought them closer to sickbay, Anne grieved for her friend, who would have to say goodbye rather than getting to recite her wedding vows. Such thoughts brought tears to Anne's eyes, and she blessed her position behind the other ladies which enabled her to wipe at her face with her handkerchief without either of them being aware of what she was doing.

Anne had barely mastered herself before they reached the sickbay. She and Mrs. Croft held themselves back as Mirabella surged forward toward Purser Perry.

Purser Perry lay upon a small cot, bare from the waist up. A thick cloth bandage wound around his middle, with a long, jagged piece of wood emerging from it at an angle. Around the wood the bandage was wet with dark blood. His face was pale and damp, and his breath was sharp and labored, but his eyes were bright.

"Thank you for coming, Mrs. Holmes. I regret that I am not dressed for company and cannot rise to greet you properly." He gave a self-deprecating half grin.

"Ah, do not worry about any of that, Perry," Mirabella said too brightly. "And what is this about calling me Mrs. Holmes? We to be married, are we not, so should I not be Mirabella to you?"

"So, you have chosen to accept?" He smiled, and although that smile was tinged with pain, all ignored it. "I am glad, although I think it shall be an engagement of rather short duration, and then all the other men shall feel free to try to call upon you. But do not fear. Should they prove mean, my ghost shall haunt them and chase them off."

"Do not talk like that!" Mirabella exclaimed. She pulled a folding chair up to his side, sat down and took up his near hand.

"What, you do not like my gallows humor? I have served too many years and seen too many injuries to not know my fate. It has been a good life and so far, the pain is not so bad. I only regret that I shall not get to spend more time with you. I had hoped our stories would intertwine to form one whole, but I now see that mine was just a chapter in yours. We have not known each other long enough for you to have any lingering regret when I leave."

Sophia and Anne walked over to the ship's surgeon and made enquiries about whether he needed any help. They rolled bandages back up into tidy order and pretended they were not there, but their ears were still keenly listening to the conversation between the couple.

Despite Purser Perry's labored breathing, which Anne well knew meant that he was in some significant pain despite his reassurance to Mirabella that he was not, his tone was light and easy, and he played his part to perfection. He joked about having the same men who would be his pallbearers carry him upon a sheet to the front of a church so they could be married, and then returning with his coffin to bear him away. "Do you think," said he, "that there have been any couples who were only married for a minute or two? Would that not be worth a few lines in some newspaper?"

Anne whispered to Sophia, "It is too bad they cannot marry, before . . . "

"He shall not last long enough to make it to shore and no proper marriage can be made upon a ship," Sophia whispered back.

"But can an improper one be made? Not legally binding of course, but binding enough to satisfy the couple?" Anne asked. She added, "I hardly think the legality shall matter to any. It is the pledging of one to another that matters here." It was what Anne would have wanted had she been in the same position as them, with Frederick soon to breathe his last.

Sophia looked thoughtful. "Let us go see the Admiral and see what he can arrange."

They tucked the rolled-up fabric away, sought out the Admiral, and then went with him to see the Chapline, Mr. Smithe. Mr. Smithe was a grizzled man with a pronounced stoop who was seemingly of too many years to still be aboard ship. He listened dutifully to Admiral Croft while the women watched.

"I do not know. This is all mighty irregular. I have no power to perform marriages here, and I am not to perform the offices that are not within my power. But Purser Perry is a good man and deserves his share of happiness, especially as his time grows close."

"What if you ask them to agree that they know the vows they take are not legally binding?" Mrs. Croft asked. "It is not as if they will be expecting to sign any marriage articles and Mrs. Holmes certainly does not mean to profit from such a marriage. And in his state, he cannot hope to perform any husbandly duties toward her."

Mr. Smithe stroked at his beard. "I suppose that would do. But perhaps Perry would like to leave her his earthly effects, that would make what I cannot do have some meaning perhaps. He could do that through a written will, with appropriate witnesses. I suppose I should go see them and talk to them about what I can and cannot do for them."

Some fifteen minutes later, the sickbay was packed with all the sailors and commissioned men who could squeeze within it. Anne had the fortunate position of being to Mirabella's right, while Sophia was to her left. Mr. Smithe was at the other side of the cot, with Admiral Croft beside him. Mr. Smithe explained to those assembled that he had no legal power to bind the couple together, but explained "God's law is not man's law, and God has no requirement of licenses and banns. He simply wishes for a man and woman to pledge themselves to each other in all sincerity, and he shall understand that when time is short sometimes nothing more formal than that can be done." Mr. Smithe read a couple of short verses on marriage and then proceeded to read from the Book of Common Order. Within the next few minutes, Matthew Perrottet took Mirabella Holmes to wife. After the pronouncement, the men whooped and hollered, and then began talking all at once.

Given the press, and the celebrating, few saw when Mirabella leaned over her new husband and kissed him on the lips. But those immediately around the cot saw, and Anne rejoiced to see Purser Perry's look of besotted joy when a few moments later Mirabella straightened back up.

A moment later, with a shaky hand Purser Perry signed the will Admiral Croft proffered. It read exactly as Purser Perry had specified: "Last Will and Testament of Matthew Perrottet. Being of sound mind and knowing the end is nigh, I leave all that I possess to the woman who has my heart, Mirabella Holmes. May you find the love and happiness that you most richly deserve." The Admiral and Mr. Smithe then signed as witnesses.

By then then the men were simply talking among themselves, seeing whether anything else of note would happen, and generally enjoying their few moments of liberty. Mr. Smithe signaled to a man, who took up his fiddle and began to play. The men set to singing a hymn. Admiral Croft then dismissed the men to their duties, and most were quick enough to file out, leaving only Purser Perry's closest friends, and the women and the Admiral to congratulate him. The entire time, Mirabella held his hand and Perry scarcely looked away from her when receiving their good wishes. After another five minutes, Mrs. Croft suggested, "Let us leave the happy couple be." At that, everyone filed out, even the ship's surgeon.

Anne imagined the couple using their privacy to exchange some kisses and fervent words. Although she knew sorrow would quickly follow their joy, she was glad they had this time together.

A/N: I am sorry to kill off Purser Perry, but I knew from the first that he would soon be gone, gone too soon like his namesake. I hope you aren't too disappointed. I promise that things will turn out well for Mirabella in the end.