by L. A. Meyer
But—
But, nothin'. This is the biggest stand of coral down here. It stands out like a sore thumb—how could you miss it? And up top you took the compass bearings from the land points, so you know where we are. You could get back here, you know you could.
I don't say anythin' to that. I just float there ... thinking.
Jacky, entices the little temptress, remember the Emerald, our fine, fine brigantine bark and how much you loved her? Ah, Jacky, you could have another just like her, you could. You could ... You could gather the lads again—Liam, Padraic, Arthur McBride, John Reilly, and all the rest and sail off again to far ports of call to see all the wonders of this world, you could ... You could ... You could...
That cuts it.
I take my spear stick, swim over behind the fans, and poke it around in the shallow cave to roust out any creatures that might be dwelling within. Several things skitter out, but nothing large nor poisonous enough to do me damage, so I head back and look down at the pile of gold that glows beneath me. I pick up an ingot and carry it to the undersea safe hold of Faber Shipping Worldwide, and I put it in.
Good girl, Jacky. Good girl.
I don't know just how good I'm being, but they did sink my Emerald, they did.
After all, this gold doesn't belong to King Georgie. It belongs to the Spanish, so the King is stealing, too, Jacky. That's the way I sees it.
All right, Mary, now get lost and let me get this done.
Goodbye, Jacky...
Back for a breath, and then I get on with it. No rest for the weary...
...nor for the wicked.
Chapter 36
Little Mary had a good idea, but I've got a lot better one.
We completed that day's morning dives and had lunch on the mess deck, and when we were finished, I arose from the table and asked Tink and Davy to go with me down into the bilges, while preparations for the afternoon dives were being made. I said that I thought I had noticed a seam opening up next to the Nancy's keel on my last dive, though I had noticed no such thing, of course. I just needed to get the lads down somewhere private so we could talk. The fewer people who know about this the better—as Ben Franklin once said, "Three men can keep a secret, if two of them are dead."
I got a lantern and led the way down into the bowels of my little schooner. When we got down to the absolute bottom, where the heavy lead ingots of our lead ballast lay, I stopped and put the lantern down.
"I don't see no leak," says Davy, casting his eyes about in the gloom. "Looks tight as a drum t'me."
"Davy. Tink. Put your fists on your tattoos. I did not bring you down here to talk of leaks. Swear you will say nothing of this."
"So sworn," says Tink, putting his hand on his hip. "What are you up to, Jacky?"
I lean into the glow of the lantern. "What do you think I'm up to, mates? Gold, that's what. We have been bringin' up a lot of it, and there's lots more down there, ready to be grabbed."
"So?" asks Davy. "What are we poor seamen to think of that?"
"You should think that maybe it shouldn't all go to good King George. It's Spanish gold. It ain't his. Right? A good part should go to him, for Merrie Olde England and all that, but some should come to us, too!"
"To us?" asks Davy.
"Right. To Faber Shipping and—"
"How sick I am of hearing that name pronounced."
"...and you'll all get your proper share," I say, getting steamed. "Have I not been generous in all of my dealings with you?"
I know Tink agrees, having been down and out very recently, but Davy, as always, is a lot more stubborn. I press on.
"Wouldn't you and Annie like to buy a nice little cottage to raise your children in? Wouldn't you?" I say. "And Tink, what do you want out of this world? A life at sea? The respect of your comrades? A tidy wife, maybe?"
"All right, Jacky-O," says Davy, hunkering down.
"What's the scam, then?"
"This is it," I say, hunkering down myself. "Tink, inside the bell is a heavy wood bench, as you know since you have both sat upon it. It is a single plank, going from one side to the other. About two inches thick. I want you to put in another thick board below it—to make it look like it was put there to lend strength to the top plank. Add stain and varnish so no one will notice the change. Nobody but me goes in there, anyway, so who's gonna notice?"
"That's easy enough," says Tink. "But what good—"
"I'll tell you what good. Around the back of that seemingly innocent board, you're going to hollow out a slot that you will make with your chisels and gouges. And then I'm going to slide in ingots of gold—cobs, they are called—each one ten pounds of pure gold and each one enough to keep you in fish, chips, and ale for a hundred years."
There are two sharp intakes of breath.
"Make it so that I will be able to fit in ten cobs a day. Davy, you and Tink will be able to retrieve them in the dark of night, when the bell is stowed down in the fore hatch. King George will be getting five to any one of ours, but so it goes. There's a lot down there. I'll put most of the flashier stuff, like the crosses and the goblets, into the King's stash, but a good number of the ingots will come to us."
I turn again to Tink.
"You've got to use your brace and bits, augers, screws, whatever you've got, but no hammers—we can't have any noise. Tilly or the Doctor might wake up and find you messin' with the bell."
"They could hang us for this. You're already in some trouble with the Crown," says Davy.
"I don't see us gettin' caught for this. And as for me, might as well be hanged for a wolf as for a lamb, I always say."
"What do we do with the gold when we get it up?"
"Well, you, Davy, will disguise the cobs, then we will hide them in plain sight. We have both white and black paint on the ship, so after you mix up a lead color and paint them, you'll stash them under here. They'll look just like the lead ingots we're already using as ballast."
Davy gives out a low chuckle. "Very crafty, Jack-O."
"I hope so, Davy."
"I'll have the shelf in tonight, Jacky, count on it," says Tink, smiling, the white of his teeth gleaming in the light of the lantern. "Looks like old King George might be givin' poor John Tinker his rightful pension after all."
"So we are agreed, then? So say ye one. So say we all."
"Yes," says Tink.
"Yes," adds Davy.
"Good lads," say I. "Then it is done."
Chapter 37
The plan is going well.
Over the past week, we have hauled up a king's ransom in gold and jewels, which will swell the coffers of King George III most admirably ... and fifty fat gold ingots now lie nestled safely with the lead ingots in the hold of the Nancy B. Alsop. Life is good, and the future looks even better.
I did not completely empty out my underwater stash. In fact, I added to it—twenty more golden ingots and several likely looking small chests were put into the little watery cave. I mean, suppose, God forbid, that the Nancy B. should be lost—to a storm or to pirates—where would we be then? Broke is where, with no ship and no gold. Nay, best to leave a nice cache here. I could always find the spot again, should the need arise.
Ten more gold cobs are stashed in the bench of the bell for Davy and Tink to put away in the dead of night, and I ride up from the last dive of the day.
Earlier, I was not pleased to find that Lieutenant Flashby had been assigned to supervise today's take. I assigned Joannie to keep an eye on him, to make sure he didn't pocket any of the booty. It turns out that he had the very same suspicions of me.
I take the towel to dry off and am ready to go into my cabin when Flashby speaks up.
"How do we know she is not squirreling away coins and jewels in her ... garb?" He looks me over. "She does have a history of chicanery. I think she needs to be thoroughly searched."
"What? How could I possibly hide anything under this suit?"
"Small but very valuable things such as gold coins a
nd precious jewels are easily concealed on the female form, as I am sure you realize," he says with the slightest hint of a leer.
"Sir, I must protest most vigorously!" says Dr. Sebastian, outraged.
"I am merely exercising caution, Doctor. She does have a checkered past."
I go at Flashby claws extended, but a calmer head intervenes.
Higgins steps between us and says, "Surely you cannot be serious, Sir. Miss Faber is a fellow member of our Service and a person of honor. If she swears that she has no purloined gold on her person, then we must believe her."
I know that ain't gonna be enough for the vile Flashby, so I fluff up, put on the Lawson Peabody Look, glare at the villain, and say, "I swear that I have no purloined gold or jewels or anything of value upon my person. To set your mind at ease, I will ask Mr. John Higgins, who is also a member of our fine Service and a man of impeccable honor, to help me dress for dinner. Are your fears now at rest, Sir?"
Flashby just barely nods his head.
"Very well, then," I say coldly, turning abruptly away from him and heading for my cabin. "Mr. Higgins, if you would assist me?"
"Damn that Flashby!" I strip off my suit and fling it aside. "See, Mr. Intelligence Agent—no gold, no jewels, just me.
All right?"
"Of course, Miss, I expected no other, and, yes, Mr. Flashby can be an annoyance. If you will get into the tub?"
I slide gratefully into my little metal tub ... Ahhhhh ... and lean back and close my eyes. It's been a long day.
"I should've just killed him when I had the chance, and I would have been done with it."
"I know that you are not by nature a murderess, Miss. Please duck your head under."
I stick my head between my knees and come up with water streaming over my face. Higgins puts the soap to my hair and massages it in with his strong fingers.
Ahhhhh...
"Do not ever think that Mr. Flashby has forgotten that time on the Belle of the Golden West," Higgins continues, "when you made him walk the plank, he soiling his pants in the certainty of his coming death while you prodded him along at sword point."
"I don't care. He had it coming. Buying the scalps of innocent men, women, and children. It makes me sick to even think of it."
"Rinse, please."
I duck my head under again and ruffle my hair with my fingers to free it of the suds.
I emerge and am handed the soap and a washcloth and proceed to wash my arms, legs, feet, and various parts, and then I lean forward for Higgins to scrub my back, a luxury I particularly enjoy.
I cannot stop breathing out luxurious ahhhhs.
There's a knock on the door and I call out, "Who?"
"It's me," answers Joannie.
"Come in, then."
Joannie enters, bearing a large kettle of hot water. She glances at Higgins and then pours the water between my feet, which are sticking out of the end of the tub.
Yet another ahhhhh.
Bathing in the early evening has become a common practice with us, the expedition's two divers. Joannie also had spent a good deal of time in the water today, as she and Daniel had taken the lifeboat and sailed in close to shore to gather shellfish, and now she needs the salt rinsed off her. Her hair is as stiff with salt as mine had been. She peers doubtfully down at the soapy water. "You didn't let loose in there with that Brother Rabbit trick, did you?"
I reach out to swat her with the wet washcloth, but she is too agile and I miss.
"No, I did not, because I am a lady, which you ain't, not by a long shot. Now get your tail in this tub."
Saying that, I stand up, take the towel that Higgins holds up, and step out of the bath.
As I dry off, Joannie, by now well used to Higgins's presence at times like these, doffs her suit and climbs into the tub.
I find I am not the only who can sigh ahhhhh.
"And what will you wear tonight, Miss?" Higgins asks.
I think for a moment and then say, "I believe I'll wear my uniform—with the trousers. Every man on both these ships has seen enough of my scrawny self, so that my wearing pants should no longer be a scandal."
"Very well, Miss."
As Higgins gets my stuff together, I pull up a chair next to the tub and unloosen Joannie's long hair from its braids and proceed to wash it.
A boat was sent over to get us at Two Bells into the Second Dog Watch. Since it's just Higgins, the Doctor, and me, I suspect this will be a strategy meeting, the Professor not being invited.
As I step onboard the dear old Dolphin, I am pleased to see that we are received by Captain Hudson, Lieutenant Bennett, and Lieutenant Fletcher. I am not pleased to see Lieutenant Flashby there, too, but let that go.
Then I hear a familiar refrain whispered low from up in the rigging:
Puss ... Puss ... Puss-in-Boots!
Unlike the cat in the old French tale, I do not carry a sword, not now, anyway. But I am wearing my lieutenant's blue jacket with its gold lace threaded through the lapels, and tight white breeches tucked into my shiny black riding boots, so I guess that's close enough.
In response to the cheer, I hit a brace, give a quick bow to fo'c's'le, main deck, and fantail, and then follow the Captain to his cabin.
We are quickly seated and wineglasses are put in our hands. The King's health—and new wealth—are toasted and drunk to, and food is served and eaten. It's good, but not as good as what Jemimah dishes out, I note with some satisfaction.
And then we get down to business.
Captain Hudson stands at his chair and lifts his glass. "To our little mermaid, who has added considerable wealth to our beleaguered nation."
Hear, hear!
I affect modesty and acknowledge the toast by saying, "We are all but simple foot soldiers in our march toward freedom and security for our blessed isle." I swear I hear Flashby choke at that, and, for once, I don't blame him.
The Captain leans back, relaxes, and says, "We have a considerable fortune in gold in our hold, and I am not easy with that. Not easy at all. Though I challenge any enemy to come before us and taste the mettle of our courage, I know that we could be taken by a superior force and the treasure would be lost to our cause."
Captain Hudson pauses to take a draught of his wine, and then he continues. "The fight against Napoleon Bonaparte is on in earnest, and that takes treasure—much treasure to pay soldiers, much treasure to mount an army. Much treasure like we now have lying in our hold."
I agree. "Ah, yes. I heard the First Lord speak of the campaign along with the need for more funds when I was last in his office."
A low hum on that. Most of the officers at this table could not hope to be in the same room with the First Lord. Come up in the world a bit, have you, Jacky Faber? I pat my lips with my napkin, then sit back and listen. My hand searches out Jaimy's under the table and finds it.
"Therefore," continues the Captain, "I have decided to take what treasure we now have to our base in Jamaica, place it in safekeeping, and then, after we have come back for the rest of it, we will mount up a well-armored squadron to get it all safely back to England."
I consider this and then say, "That sounds like a good plan to me, Captain. However, I do not want my ship floating out here like a sitting duck without your kind protection. Therefore, I'd like to take her back into Havana to reprovision while you are gone. We could arrange to rendezvous again in what ... a week? In this same spot."
The Captain nods, plainly thinking this over.
"We might pick up more information on the San Cristobal when we are in port as well," adds Dr. Sebastian. "It would be good for us to know when that behemoth plans to sail."
"Right," says Captain Hudson, coming to a decision. "We will leave in the morning and will escort you as far as the mouth of Havana Harbor. Mr. Bennett, make all preparations."
"Aye, Sir," says Mr. Bennett.
That business done, the party turns to the wine in earnest. Glasses are filled and emptied and songs are proposed and su
ng. Eventually I make so bold as to ask, "Perhaps, Captain, you would be so good as to allow Mr. Fletcher to stay again with me for the night, as it would give me great comfort?"
Captain Hudson looks at me through lowered eyelids and says, "It wouldn't give me any great comfort." Then he looks at Jaimy. "If I were about twenty years younger, Mr. Fletcher, you would have a problem on your hands ... Oh, never mind. Do the same conditions on your behavior apply?"
Both Jaimy and I nod, neither one of us very enthusiastically.
"Very well, then, but you will be back onboard at five thirty in the morning, or you will be put on report," he says to Jaimy. "And you, Miss, will behave yourself. I do believe you have this officer in the palm of your little hand to do with him as you will."
The wine works on me, too, and I enter into the exchange.
"Mr. Fletcher is the captain of his own fate, Sir. As for behaving myself, I believe I have always done that," I say, speaking the first outright lie I have said this night. "Perhaps Intelligence should have fitted me for a chastity belt before we embarked on this mission."
Laughter all around—except from Jaimy. I give his hand an extra squeeze.
"Ah, if those medieval devices actually worked, I'm sure the Service would have put one on you!" says Dr. Sebastian. "Except that we know you to be an expert lock picker and would have the thing off in an instant."
"I'm sure it would have been deucedly uncomfortable," I retort, moving my bottom around a bit on the chair. "And totally unnecessary ... I think." I give Jaimy a hot look on that one.
Har-har!
These men have been at sea too long.
Much later I am locked in my lover's arms onboard the Nancy B., and that's the way the world's supposed to be as I figure it.
Oh, Jaimy, this is just so fine...