To Slight the Jacket Blue. Bronwyn Sciance
Satisfied that–for once–he had beat Sam, Ned first went home to see his family, then back to the dock to wait for news of the Josephine.
Three days passed, and Ned was becoming seriously concerned. The Josephine had been due back a week past, and it was now extremely overdue. No one seemed able to tell him why. Finally, Ned took himself to the Purple Falcon to hear what the crowd there had to say.
Entering the tavern, Ned saluted Hannah, who waved back and sent her daughter over with a plate of the day's lunch and the house cider. Ned ate in silence for a moment, then noticed a large group surrounding a battle-scarred sailor, who seemed to be in the midst of a story. Ned turned around to listen.
"...Biggest battle I'd ever seen," the sailor was saying. "My cap'n tried t' get close enough to help, but the bo'sun reckernised the flag and warned 'im off."
"What was it?" yelled one of the listeners.
"Red wid' a skull, a flyin' hourglass, an' a hand holdin' a cutlass. Christopher Moody's device."
A concerted gasp came from the surrounding crowd. The sailor continued. "I tell ye, lads, for their sakes I 'ope they had the sense to surrender."
"Why?" Ned asked. Every head in the crowd turned to look at him.
The sailor shook his head. "Ye've not been long at sea, lad, or ye'd know. Red on a pirate's flag means show-no-mercy. Surrender or die."
"What did Master Delancey have to say when you told him?" asked a man in the back of the tavern.
The sailor barked with laughter. "Hah, him? He shrugged, said it weren't no great loss. The Josephine never brought back much."
Ned sputtered on his cider. "The Josephine?" he coughed. "When? How?"
"About six months ago, just afore they turned for home. Doubt if they were wise enough to surrender. Captain Overwood was a right damned fool."
Poor Hannah gave a single, high-pitched cry and swooned. Sam's sister Rebecca, a young woman now at sixteen, threw her apron over her face and sobbed. Ned couldn't stay, couldn't think. He rose slowly, turned, and left the tavern. He walked the streets without seeing any of them.
"Sharpe? What's the matter, lad?"
Ned looked up into the kind face of his captain. "You look like you've just lost your best friend."
"I have, sir," Ned said softly. In a few words he repeated what he had just learned about the fate of the Josephine and her crew.
"I want to do something," he completed. "But I don't know what."
"I think I can help you with that," the captain said with a smile. "Come with me, Sharpe."
It took a month or two for everything to sort itself out, but finally the day came when Ned once again prepared himself to leave on a sea voyage.
"Are you certain you want to do this, Ned?" Sarah asked him as she straightened his collar.
"I'm certain, Mother." Ned shifted his pack to his other hand and turned to Hannah, who looked pale and worn and still wore black. "I promise, I will find the scum who murdered Sam. And I will bring him to justice. There will be nowhere in the ocean–in the world–where he can hide from me, I swear it."
Sarah kissed him. He hugged his brother and sister, then Hannah and Sam's sister Rebecca, then turned and mounted the gangplank. He saluted the sailor at the top, who returned the gesture in kind.
"Ah, Midshipman Sharpe. We've been expecting you."
Come All You Gallant Seamen Bold
Go home, go home, says Captain Ward
And tell your king for me,
If he reigns king all on the land
Ward will reign king on the sea...
- Francis J. Child, "Ward the Pirate"
Chapter Five
"Hold still, Edward, your collar's twisted."
Edward rolled his eyes upward, but the petite, pretty young woman in front of him took no notice as she deftly straightened out the blue jacket collar with gold braid. "There. Much better."
"Jane, are you done yet?" Edward asked, sounding amused.
Jane smiled. "I'm just proud of my Edward. In all my wildest dreams I never imagined you would become commander–at least not so soon. I never thought I would be an officer's wife."
"Well, my dear, you aren't one yet–only an officer's sweetheart, I'm afraid. And I unfortunately shan't be able to rectify that until I return from my next posting."
"You never did tell me where that is," Jane reminded him.
"One near and dear to my heart." Edward stared out the window, as though seeing his quarry already. "I'm for the Caribbean to hunt pirates for His Majesty."
Jane bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Hunting pirates! She had imagined a thousand and one things keeping him from her, but this...
More to distract her thoughts than anything else, she asked, "And when do you expect to return? In six months or so?"
Edward hesitated. "Well...no. I would say closer to a year. Certainly no more than that."
"I shall hold you to that promise," Jane threatened.
Edward laughed. "Oh? And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
Jane put her hands on her hips. "If you do not return within the promised year, I shall commandeer a ship and seek you out myself, and this I swear."
Edward laughed even harder, and this time Jane joined in. Arm in arm, they walked outside to join the party.
Jane smiled at the cheers attending her beloved's arrival. She could hardly believe her good fortune. Any number of women would have desired Edward Sharpe, even before he obtained his commander's commission. At eighteen, he was old enough to be a catch, yet young enough to be desirable still. Jane had fallen in love with him at one of the balls in Bath the previous year, and she was both surprised and pleased when she learned that he reciprocated the feeling. Her father, blinded by the gold chevrons of a first lieutenant, had agreed to allow him to court Jane, but he had not yet formally acknowledged the courtship or given Edward permission to ask for her hand.
"Edward, beloved, perhaps you could ask Father for my hand tonight," she suggested boldly. "After all, you do have your commission now, and you–"
"Jane," Edward interrupted with a sigh, "I asked him for permission last night. He said he should prefer I not commit myself to you–or you to me–until I return from this posting. After all, it will be my most dangerous, and if I don't return..."
"I shall be ineligible for marriage," Jane sighed. It was true. Her father had very strict views about women who remarried after becoming widowed–or even marrying someone after having been betrothed to somebody else. Should Edward die at sea–which she judged unlikely, but her father apparently thought was a possibility–he would brand her a widow and forbid her to wed. The family would die and it would be entirely her fault. "All right, but I shall work on him while you're away, and he shall grant you permission upon your return."
"Even if you have to come and find me," Edward teased. Jane laughed.
The next day, as they parted at the docks, there was no laughter in her face. She held Edward's hands and looked beseechingly up into his eyes. He smiled at her, then raised her hands and kissed them gravely.
"I shall return, Jane," he whispered. Then he was up the gangplank and out of her sight. A short time later, the anchor was raised, the lines were cast, the sails caught the breeze, and the ship was pulling away.
Hunting