Miss Whittier Makes a List (8 page)

Hannah sighed.
“
And they have seen me,
”
she said, reddening further despite her vow to remain
unembarrassed
by her precipitate arrival on board the
Dissuade.
“
Mr.
Lease said I came sailing into everyone
’
s view during Captain Spark
’
s sermon yesterday.
”

He smiled then.
“
Did he? Ah, yes.
”
He sat down again beside her.
“
We were assembled on the main deck. Captain Spark had just finished reading the Articles of War and had announced his sermon when he stopped, ran to the railing, called for a blanket, and climbed down the chains with a grappling hook as thee floated past. Thee was relatively covered and slung over his shoulder like a meal sack as he climbed back onto the deck.
”

He laughed at her expression.
“
I only knew it was thee by that tangle of hair.
”
He was sober then.
“
And I knew what it meant, to
see
thee floating past on the
Molly
’
s
grating.
”

He couldn
’
t say anything else. He looked at her for a long moment, then opened the door. Hannah raised her head from the
pillow.

“
Adam, we must think of something to get us off this wretched vessel,
”
she said as he disappeared into the companionway and was replaced, to her acute
discomfort
by Captain Spark.

“
I still think we should chum you for sharks, Miss Whittier,
”
he said, his face perfectly wooden.
“
And I will kindly thank you not to incite my crew to mutiny!
”

“
Thy crew!
”
she fired back, wisith all her heart that she could leap up and pumm
e
l him, instead of continue to lie on her stomach. Thee snatched him from the
Molly Clar
idge
’
s
deck.
”
she stormed.
“
It is most undemocratic of thee!
”

He was obviously going to say something else, but her last charge brought him up short.
“
Miss Whittier, the
Dissuade
is not a democracy,
”
he managed at last, a faint smile on his face.
“
And you are a dreadful baggage.
”

She thought it was a smile, but it was gone before she could m
ak
e sure. With a nod in her direction, he closed the door with a decisive click, leaving her to writhe in further discomfort entirely of her own making, and heartily wish Captain Spark to the devil again.

She did not se
e
Captain Spark for another three days,
during which tim
e she mulled over her many sins
—
c
hief among them hasty words
—
lay on her stomach, and suffered the ship
’
s surgeon to slather those pa
rt
s with ointment that she could not reach. When she begged for something besides gruel at mealtime, he was implacable.

“
But I am tired of it,
”
she argued on the evening of the fourth day of her tenure on board His Majesty
’
s
Dissuade
.
“
Is there nothing else?
”

“
Not for you. Miss Whittier,
”
he said fi
rm
ly as he capped the ointment and covered her with a sheet again.
“
Ship
’
s fare is entirely too salty, and you are still dehydrated.
”
He gave her one of his gallows smiles.
“
I assure you that before we get to
England
, you will be equally sick of salted beef and weevily biscuit. Hush now.
”

With a sigh, Hannah flopped her chin back down on the pillow.
“
And now I suppose thee will leave me to my own ruminations,
”
she said.

“
I should,
”
he replied
,
pouring her another large cup of water and standing there until she finally took it and drank.
“
Except that they are probably most unprofitable these days, and I would not have you think ill of all of us. Miss Whittier, do you play
draughts
?
Checkers to you, I suppose.
”

She brightened up immediately.
“
Mama doesn
’
t think I know how, but my brothers taught me,
”
she said.

“
Well, I would hardly like to be pa
rt
y to your total dissipation,
”
he began, a twinkle in his eyes.
“
Perhaps I can find an improving book, like
Coastal Shoals and Lee Shores of Mediterranean Spain
,
”
he said.
“
I know Daniel has a copy.
”

“
Oh
no,
”
she said hurriedly.
“
Checkers, if thee pleases.
”

It was hard to think of the captain as having a first name that anyone ever used, she thought as the surgeon tapped on the door separating the sleeping cabin from the great
room
and was invited in by His Majesty. He was gone a long while; she closed her eyes and resigned herself to another evening spent in isolation. Soon she began to worry about her parents, and Hosea, who was probably beside himself by now, wondering what had become of the
Molly Clar
idge.

She rested her chin on her hands. When news reached Mama and Papa on
Orange Street
, there would be a memorial service. It will be a sad one for her family, she thought, and also for the Winslows, mourning both a husband and son. There would be a long, long prayer, the kind that made her squi
rm
, and then a melancholy pilgrimage to the dock, where Mama would drop a handful of flowers into the water and sob on Papa
’
s broad chest. Her own chin quivered. How much they will miss me.

“
My God, Miss Whittier, such a mournful expression,
”
came a familiar voice at the cabin door.

She opened her eyes to see the captain himself standing there, leanin
g against the door frame, conform
ing himself gracefully to the roll of the ship. He was dressed in white canvas trousers and a white shi
rt
and his shoes were off.

“
I am contemplating the memorial service my parents will have in the Friends Meetinghouse, when they hear the sad news from my brother,
”
she replied, tugging the sheet up a little higher on her flaming shoulders in an attempt to dignify her situation.

“
I cannot fathom anyone missing you,
”
he said frankly.
“
You
’
re certainly a lot of trouble to me. Tell me, will they hold a similar meeting of thanksgiving when you finally return?
”

“
Probably not,
”
she replied, her voice formal.

“
I shouldn
’
t wonder at that,
”
he murmured and went back into the great cabin. In another moment she heard the rustle of charts, and then the surgeon reappeared.

“
He is so rude,
”
she whispered as Andrew Lease set the checkerboard down in front of her and pulled his chair up close.

“
The captain?
”
Lease asked, placing the pieces on the board.
“
He
’
s sup
posed to be. Now, mind yourself,
if you plan to win.
”

She won two games out of four as the ship slid silently through the water, taking her farther and farther from home. During the final game, she heard the scraping of a fiddle on deck, and the sound men dancing. Down below in the hold was the rhythmic cla
nking of the pumps, and faintly,
the lowing of a cow.

“
This is a strange place,
”
she said as she watched the surgeon put the checkers back in their cloth bag.

“
You
’
ll get used to it,
”
he said.

She couldn
’
t keep her eyes open. The fiddle was soothing.
“
How long before we get to
England
?
”
she asked, settling herself more comfortably in the berth.

Lease laughed.
“
You probably plagued your parents on every trip you took, didn
’
t you? Long enough, Miss Whittier
. Time for
you to learn to appreciate the H
MS
Dissuade.
Maybe even Captain Spark.
”

“
Never,
”
she said, her voice drowsy.
“
He is completely undemocratic and a dreadful beast.
”
She paused to let that sink in as her eyes closed.
“
And I am equally sure he can have nothing kind to say about me.
”

The surgeon chuckled. He put the back of his hand to her forehead, nodded approvingly, and settled the sheet about her shoulders. He blew out the lamp.
“
He did mention that he wanted his bed back, and without you in it.
”

“
Dreadful man,
”
she repeated as she wiggled into a comfortable position and surrendered to sleep.

She felt human in the morning, for the first time since her rescue from the sea. Hannah sat up in the berth and pulled on the captain
’
s nightshirt, wincing only slightly as it came in contact with her tender shoulders. Her a
rm
s were beginning to itch and peel. She tugged idly at the skin on her fore
ar
m, marveling how it sheeted off and left a handsome tan behind.

Mama will be chagrined, she thought. Soon I will be browner than an Indian.
She leagainst the bulkhead, holding her breath against the anticipated pain, and letting it out in relief when there was none. I could almost like this, she thought as she settled into the gentle rolling motion of the ship as it rose on each swell, then shimmied into a little spiral as it fell into the
trough
of the wave. She knew instinctively there was a sure hand at the helm.

When Captain Spark knocked on the door from the great cabin, she felt decidedly charitable.
“
Come in, please,
”
she said.

The
captain
, still in
stockin
ged
feet, stuck his head in.
“
I need a shirt,
”
he said, observing her.
“
Well, you are sitting up. Does this mean I will be getting my cabin back soon?
”

“
As soon as thee can find me another space, sir,
”
she replied.
“
And some clothes.
”

“
Done, Miss Whittier,
”
he replied as he opened his sea chest and rummaged about for another shi
rt
.
“
I
‘
ll
put my first mate on it right away.
”
He found a shirt and closed the chest.
“
All we need to do is dispossess a midshipman and purloin a
shirt
and trousers from a small crew member. I trust you are not too particular.
”
He paused in front of her.
“
By God, you
’
re going to be peeling for a week, at least.
”
He touched the end of her nose.
“
I did that once, and looked about as silly as you do. At least there is no one here you have to impress. I
’
m afraid it would be quite impossible. Cheers, Miss Whittier.
”