any sense. What was Drake talking about, going courting with a hatful of gold? He didn’t need to if he already had Lady Sarah on board. …
Then Tom came and grunted at us. “Mr. Newman wants you,” he said. “Best go quick.”
Up on the deck, Masou and I knuckled our foreheads to Mr. Newman.
“Captain wants a sharp lookout kept,” he told us. “You go up to the foremast top and stay there, until I tell you to come down or you see anything at all—a sail, a sea monster, anything.”
As we went over to the rail, I turned to Masou. “I don’t believe it, he—”
Somebody shoved us.
“What are you doing yapping away?” snarled the wide man who had first discovered us on the ship. “You get aloft and keep watch, and you’d better do it right.”
“Aye, sir,” I said, swallowing hard. I was almostpleased we were to go up the mast again, so I could talk to Masou in peace! But Hell’s teeth! Those awful ratlines again …
There was no help for it, so we climbed up and up and up—and I struggled up and backwards and over the side of the top again, grabbing for ropes to hold onto.
When I’d got my breath back I could see that Tom was over on the mainmast fighting top, shading his eyes to keep a lookout. We squinted into the distance, too, me facing one way, Masou the other. At last we could talk.
I spoke first. “I think that perhaps Captain Drake does not have Lady Sarah at all!” I said.
Masou looked as if he’d been thinking just the same thing. “Well, we’ve seen no sign of her anywhere on the ship, have we?” he muttered. “And after what Drake said in his speech …”
I nodded miserably. It made my stomach swoop to think we’d got ourselves trapped on a privateering ship for nothing! “So where can she be?” I asked, full of frustration.
Masou shrugged and spread his hands wide.
I took out the forged letter, which I still had in my doublet, and squinted at it. Somehow, I had readthe evidence wrongly. But if Captain Drake hadn’t taken Lady Sarah, who had? I sighed heavily. “I must tell Captain Drake what has been going on,” I admitted. “Maybe he can take us back to Tilbury and there will be news there of Lady Sarah.” I stuffed the letter away again, went to the side, and started sliding backwards over it, feeling for the ropes with my toes.
“What if he throws you in the brig?” Masou demanded anxiously.
“It can’t be helped. I’ve still got to try,” I puffed, letting myself down carefully. “You keep watch, so we don’t get into more trouble.”
I climbed the rest of the way, sliding a bit because I was in such a hurry. Mr. Newman was busy with a big sail at the front of the ship, so I dodged two sailors and ran to the back deck (sorry, aft), where I wasn’t supposed to go at all. Facing the door of the Great Cabin, feeling sick with fright, I knocked.
“Enter,” came the Captain’s voice.
I opened the door and peered inside apprehensively. “Captain, sir, please may I talk with you?”
Drake was bending over charts on the table, but in fact he wasn’t looking at them, he was staring at a letter. He glanced up and frowned at me.
I grabbed my hat off my head, came into the cabin, shut the door, and bowed low. “Sir, I really must talk with you,” I said.
“Who are you, boy?”
He hadn’t recognized me! I hesitated. Should I tell him who I really was? No, not yet. He would be surprised half to death—and he had to concentrate on what I had to say. “I’m Gregory, sir.”
“Ah yes, the stowaway who’s a painter,” Drake remembered. “You did well on the paintings, lad. I’ll have you do some more for me once we’re out of dangerous waters.”
“Thank you, sir.” I thought fast. “But, begging your pardon, I’m really a page. Lady Sarah Bartelmy’s page, sir …”
At the mention of Lady Sarah’s name, Drake’s blue eyes bored into me like needles.
“She’s missing, sir,” I continued. “And I thought at first that she might
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