Blockade Runner (9 page)

Bier saluted him, saying, “We meet again, Captain Almy.”

Captain Almy seemed somewhat shocked to see Bier. He was a tall man with muttonchop whiskers and cold blue eyes. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, Bier,” he said.

“So am I,” Captain Bier said sardonically. “I surrender the ship to you, sir.”

“If we could go to your cabin, I’d like to make some records of this transaction.”

“Of course, Captain.”

The two men went below, and when they had spoken for some time of the details of the surrender, Captain Almy leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “Never thought it would come to this, Bier.”

“There’s risk in running the blockade. I won for a long time—and now I’ve lost.”

“You’ve never cried over your losses—I remember that.”

“No point, is there?”

Captain Almy appeared troubled. “You should have joined the U.S. Navy. You’d have been high in the service by now.”

“We all make our choices, sir.”

“But the Confederacy was doomed from the start!”

“A man must stand for what he believes.”

“Even if what he believes is wrong?”

“Slavery is wrong. I know that as well as any man.”

“Then why didn’t you fight for our side?”

Bier studied Almy carefully. “Suppose your family took a wrong position, sir. Then suppose that you were asked to fight against them. Would you do it?”

Captain Almy sat in his chair, silent and thinking. He finally shook his head. “I can’t say that I would. But it’s not quite the same thing.”

“It’s the way I see it, sir. I can’t fight against my neighbors and my family.”

Almy saw that there was no fear—and no regret—in Captain Bier.
I wish he were on our side
, he thought ruefully.
We need men like him
.

As the two captains were talking below, a short officer came to where Belle stood and grinned nastily. “I was the one that fired that last shot that came so close to you,” he said proudly.

Belle gave him a cold glance. “I hope you’re proud of yourself for firing on a ship that had already surrendered.”

“None of that,” he said. “I’m Ensign Swasey, and I’ll be in command of the prize crew. You mind your manners, or I’ll have you locked in irons.”

“I believe you, sir,” she said in a frigid manner. “I believe you’re just the kind of man who would do such a thing.”

Swasey’s face reddened, and he turned away, bawling orders.

Leah and Belle went to stand beside Mr. Pollard as the Federal sailors came pouring onto the deck of the
Greyhound
.

Swasey yelled, “Go below, men!” He grinned at Captain Bier and shouted another order. “If you see anything you need, take it.”

Belle said, “We’d better get to our cabins. I don’t want them pawing through my things!”

“I don’t have any things for them to paw through,” Leah said, “but I’ll go with you.”

The girls went below. They saw that sailors had already burst into some of the cabins and were rifling their contents, taking what they pleased.

“Why, they’re nothing but pirates!” Belle exclaimed angrily when they stood in her cabin.

A sailor heard her and came to the door, a big man with a red complexion. He leered at her, saying, “Watch your speech, dearie, or I may have to search you for hidden papers.”

Belle said, “You wouldn’t dare touch me!”

“Wouldn’t I, now?” The sailor stepped into the cabin and reached for Belle.

She slapped him across the face.

The sailor stood there, stunned that a woman would do such a thing. He growled, “I’ll teach you a lesson—”

“I’ll go report to his captain,” Leah said quickly. “I’m sure he’d like to know how his sailors are behaving.” She dashed out of the cabin, avoiding the sailor, who made a wild grab for her.

Leah scrambled up the ladder and saw at once that the captain of the
Connecticut
had boarded. She ran across the deck. “Captain! Your men are stealing things from our cabin, and one of them is forcing himself on a young lady!”

Captain Almy looked in some confusion at the young girl who had planted herself in his way. In his scratchy voice he said, “What’s that you say?”

The girl repeated her news and said, “It was my understanding that officers of Federal warships were gentlemen. Is that not so, Captain?”

“Certainly!” Almy turned to his aide. “Lieutenant, go below. See that the men behave themselves.”

“Aye, sir!”

“Thank you, Captain,” the girl said gratefully.

“Well—
harumph!
The men sometimes get carried away.” He stared at her and said, “What are
you
doing on this ship? Are you a Southern girl?”

“My brother’s in the Union army, and my father’s a sutler following the Army of the Potomac.”

“Then what are you doing on a blockade runner?”

“It’s a long story, Captain. I came to Virginia originally to visit my uncle who is ill—”

“Well, I don’t have time to hear this. The best thing for you, young lady, is to get yourself out of the South as quick as you can!”

Almy stomped across the deck to the Rebel captain. “Well, Captain Bier, I’m making a prize ship of the
Greyhound
. I suppose you expected that.”

“Yes, I did. The victory’s yours, Captain Almy.” There was sadness in Bier’s voice, and he ran his hand over the rail in a loving fashion. “She’s a good ship.”

Almy said. “Be good for us keeping the blockade.
I think she’s fast enough to catch some of your other blasted blockade runners!”

“I could kill that Ensign Swasey.”

Belle Boyd had a fiery temper. Walking back and forth in the narrow confines of her cabin, she stepped on Leah’s foot without even knowing it. It was painful but Leah said nothing, merely pulling her foot back.

“He’s not very pleasant,” she agreed.

They had both been insulted by the squat ensign who was in charge of the ship. He had been put aboard with the prize crew, and soon they were sailing toward Boston where the
Greyhound
would be converted, they understood, to a blockading warship.

“I can’t believe that such a beast would be wearing the uniform of an officer,” Belle fumed. She plunked herself down on the bunk and wrung her hands. “I hate that man! He’s let his sailors do practically anything they want. They’ve been rude and insulting and made crude suggestions.” She looked at Leah. “To you too, I suppose?”

Leah had suffered some of the same indignities, but she didn’t add anything to what Belle was saying. It seemed to her that complaining was useless.

Belle fussed and fretted and argued, but of course there was nothing Leah could do but agree with her.

“Well, come along. It’s time for lunch. If we get any lunch!” Belle said.

“I suppose we’ll have to eat with the Union officers.”

“Yes, I’m sure we will. I hope Swasey’s table manners are better than the rest of his manners,” Belle bristled.

They left the cabin and were on their way to the dining room when the object of Belle’s distaste suddenly stepped out into the passageway.

“Well, Miss Boyd,” he said, smiling unpleasantly, “I suppose your spying days are over.”

“Let me pass, please.”

But as Belle attempted to get by, Swasey blocked her way. “You should have been locked up for good a long time ago, but I’m going to see to it that it happens now. I have some friends in Washington that will do anything I ask them to do.”

Once again Belle tried to walk by him.

This time Swasey grabbed her arm. “Not so fast! I’m not through talking yet!”

Belle pulled away from him furiously, saying, “Let me go!”

“Let the lady go, Ensign.”

Swasey wheeled quickly, and the girls turned to see a tall young officer who had come out of a cabin. He was well built, had long dark hair, auburn in color, and the bluest eyes that Leah had ever seen.

“You must be Miss Boyd and Miss Carter.”

“Yes, I am Belle Boyd.” She seemed ready to let some of her rage boil over on this officer, but she had no time.

Swasey said, “You stay out of this, Hardinge! I’m in charge of this ship—or will be as soon as the captain leaves.”

“There’s been a change in plans, I’m afraid, Ensign.” The ensign named Hardinge turned his steady eyes on the shorter man. “Captain Almy has put me in charge of the prize crew. You’ll be under my command.”

“Why, he can’t—he can’t do that!”

“Why don’t you go tell him that, Ensign Swasey?” Hardinge said, a smile turning up the corners of his lips. “I’m sure he’d welcome hearing from one of his officers that he can’t do something.”

Swasey puffed his cheeks out and glared at Belle. “We’ll see about this!” he rasped and disappeared into the cabin.

Removing his hat, the tall, dark ensign said, “My name is Sam Hardinge, ladies, and I’ve just spoken the truth to Ensign Swasey.”

“He’s been quite unbearable,” Belle said. However, it seemed to Leah that she was mollified by the courtesy and quiet bearing of the young Union sailor.

“I apologize, Miss Belle,” Hardinge avowed. “I’ll see to it that you’re not offered any further indignities by the ensign.” He smiled then.

He looks like an actor
, Leah thought suddenly.
He’s better looking than any of the other sailors I’ve seen
.

Hardinge said quickly, “I must begin by telling you how much I respect your efforts for your country, Miss Boyd.”

Belle Boyd was accustomed to admiration from the young men of the Confederacy. However, she was also accustomed to hatred from those who were on the opposite side. Young Hardinge’s statement obviously took her completely off guard. She colored and stammered as she rarely did before any man. “Why … why … well, I didn’t expect—”

“You didn’t expect a Yankee to say such a thing?” Sam Hardinge laughed. “I think you’d find many from the North who respect your courage, Miss Belle. We may not agree with your convictions, but who could help admiring such devotion to a cause?”

“Why, thank you, Ensign.” Belle’s lips had softened, and she turned to Leah, saying, “Now, this is the way an officer should be.” Turning back to Hardinge, she said, “Sir, you are polite and gentlemanly enough to be a member of the Confederate navy or army.”

“A high compliment, indeed, coming from you, Miss Belle.” Hardinge smiled and then extended his arm. “May I escort you to dinner? I’ve saved a place at the captain’s table. And for you too, Miss Leah.”

“Well, of course, that would be very nice.”

Leah followed the pair in, and she was amused all through the meal at how the handsome young ensign had captured Belle’s attention.
She’s accustomed to men admiring her, but this one has really taken her off guard
, Leah thought.

She leaned over and whispered to Mr. Pollard, who was sitting next to her, “What do you think of Belle’s attitude toward Ensign Hardinge?”

Pollard whispered back, “She’s used to having men admire her, but I’ve never seen her quite so taken with a young man. It’s a shame he’s a Yankee, or I’d think she might fall in love with him.”

Leah studied Belle, whose attention was totally fixed on Ensign Hardinge, taking in his every word. “Well, Yankee or not, I think Belle’d better watch out. She sure is giving him some sweet looks!”

J
eff threw his knife on the floor and stood up, his face defiant. “I’m not going to peel another potato, Austin!” he declared.

The cook looked up from where he was cleaning a skillet. His face showed surprise. “What do you mean, you’re not going to peel any more potatoes?”

“I mean I didn’t come on this trip to feed Yankee sailors!” Jeff protested.

“No more did I,” Austin said. He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “None of us thought we’d be in the hands of the Yankees. But that’s the way it goes with running the blockade. That’s a chance we all take.”

“Well, I’m not going to serve them anymore,” Jeff snapped. “They can peel their own potatoes!”

“I don’t think that’ll answer, lad,” Austin said quietly. He stared at the boy with some compassion. “The potatoes are going to feed our own men as well as the Yankees, so just sit down there and keep on peeling.”

Jeff reluctantly retrieved the knife, sat down, and picked up a potato. He started a peeling and watched it uncurl, muttering bitterly, “I wish this was that Ensign Swasey’s head. Now that’s what I’d like to peel!”

“He
is
a varmint now, ain’t he?”

“I keep hoping he’ll fall overboard—but he’d probably poison all the fish if he did.”

Austin chuckled deep in his chest. “Well, he ain’t been bothering the young ladies much, not since that Ensign Hardinge put the skids under him. Now there’s a pretty nice young fellow!”

“He’s not bad,” Jeff admitted grudgingly, “but he’s a Yankee all the same.”

Jeff peeled potatoes until the chore was done, then said, “I’m going up and take a break. I can’t help feeling funny down here all the time. It makes me feel peculiar all cooped up below deck.”

Austin gave him a look of amusement. “You wouldn’t make a good sailor then, because a lot of our lives are spent down below, especially cooks.”

“No, I’ll be glad to get back to the army. This hasn’t turned out like I thought it would.”

Jeff climbed to the deck and drifted back toward the stern. Some Yankee sailors were patroling with their pistols in their belts, but there was little chance that anyone would try to escape. Leaning on the rail, he watched the water boil behind the
Greyhound
, churned to a white froth by the propeller. They were making good time, but that did not please him at all. Then he heard someone call his name.

He turned quickly and found Leah standing and watching him. “Oh,” he said lamely, then added, “hello, Leah.”

“Hello, Jeff.”

He waited for her to say more, and when she did not, he shifted his feet uncomfortably. He had a strange feeling about Leah. Somehow he had convinced himself that their argument was all her fault. More than once he realized this was foolish, but the mind has a funny way of doing things like that.
“How’s Miss Belle?” he finally asked, not expecting an answer but just to make conversation.