be on this ship, so I came to find her. …”
Drake frowned, and those fiery blue eyes chilled to ice. I felt terrified. Being frowned at by Drake was like being hit in the forehead.
“And then the ship set sail, and … um … here I am …,” I finished. “Only Lady Sarah sent this letter to the Queen, sir. …” I hurried forward,deciding it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit courtly, as if I really were a page, and went down on one knee to give him the letter, as if he were an earl or a duke.
He snatched the letter from me in irritation, but as he read it, his ruddy face paled.
“It’s a forgery, sir, I know that much,” I told him. “My Lady Sarah pens her
y
s quite different.”
Drake’s face was a mixture of puzzlement and fury. I thought he might start shouting at me, but instead he handed me the letter he had been reading when I came in.
I read it quickly. This is what it said:
Palace of Placentia, Greenwich
The seventh day of May, in the Year of Our Lord 1569
Sir,
My noble father hath written unto me this day that he hath found for me a husband of a like blood and land as myself. Our dalliance must be at an end for my revered parents would never countenance that I should so disparage myself as to wed a man of lesser breeding and wealth.
Sarah, Lady Bartelmy
I squinted at the
y
s—and sure enough, they had no curly tails. “This is a forgery, too,” I declared.
“But the pearl bracelet I gave her was returned with the letter,” Drake said slowly. “And now she’s missing, you say?”
“Yes, sir,” I confirmed. “My friend Masou saw her being helped on board a boat at the Greenwich river steps.”
“Where is this Masou?” Drake demanded.
“He’s up the mast, keeping watch, sir,” I replied. “We came on board the night before last, sir, trying to find Lady Sarah—only we got locked in the sail locker by accident, and Mr. Newman thinks we’re stowaways so he sent us up the mast—”
“Stay there!” Drake commanded, already striding out of his cabin.
Just at that moment I heard a faint shout.
“Sail!” It was Masou’s voice. “Sail, ho!” he shouted again.
I rushed out on deck, too.
“Where away?” shouted the Boatswain.
“That way!” came Masou’s faint reply. He was much higher than the top—he was right up where we’d freed the banner, clinging like a monkey and pointing.
“Mr. Newman, make more sail!” Captain Drake bellowed.
I was puzzled—surely they didn’t have time to make sails, and anyway, there were plenty in the saillocker. But then I saw that Drake meant the crew to open up more sails on the masts, to catch more wind and move the ship faster.
He jumped up to the rail and started to climb the ratlines, smoothly and surely as if he were just climbing some stairs. I scrambled up after him, after tucking both letters in my doublet.
Puffing and clawing over the side of the fighting top, I saw Drake’s boots, and then felt him lift me up by my jerkin. He didn’t seem to mind that I hadn’t stayed where I was told. He was staring into the distance, where there were two white notches on the horizon. Masou was sliding down from his high perch, looking scared and worried.
“Tell me exactly what you saw when you watched Lady Sarah get in the boat at Greenwich,” Drake ordered Masou. “Whom was she with?”
“You’re Captain Drake, sir?” Masou asked, sounding very surprised.
“Aye, son, that’s my name.”
“Well, she was with a taller man than you, sir, with light hair,” Masou told him.
I stared at Masou, incredulous. He hadn’t recognized the man helping Lady Sarah into the boat as being someone other than Captain Drake? Then I realized that Masou had never seen Drake beforenow. It had been
I
who had told
him
that the man in the boat was Captain Drake. Because Mary and I had assumed it to be. …
“Straw-coloured hair? Green woollen suit?” demanded Drake, his face intent.
“Yes, sir.” Masou nodded. “No chin.”
“Hugh
Drake frowned, and those fiery blue eyes chilled to ice. I felt terrified. Being frowned at by Drake was like being hit in the forehead.
“And then the ship set sail, and … um … here I am …,” I finished. “Only Lady Sarah sent this letter to the Queen, sir. …” I hurried forward,deciding it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit courtly, as if I really were a page, and went down on one knee to give him the letter, as if he were an earl or a duke.
He snatched the letter from me in irritation, but as he read it, his ruddy face paled.
“It’s a forgery, sir, I know that much,” I told him. “My Lady Sarah pens her
y
s quite different.”
Drake’s face was a mixture of puzzlement and fury. I thought he might start shouting at me, but instead he handed me the letter he had been reading when I came in.
I read it quickly. This is what it said:
Palace of Placentia, Greenwich
The seventh day of May, in the Year of Our Lord 1569
Sir,
My noble father hath written unto me this day that he hath found for me a husband of a like blood and land as myself. Our dalliance must be at an end for my revered parents would never countenance that I should so disparage myself as to wed a man of lesser breeding and wealth.
Sarah, Lady Bartelmy
I squinted at the
y
s—and sure enough, they had no curly tails. “This is a forgery, too,” I declared.
“But the pearl bracelet I gave her was returned with the letter,” Drake said slowly. “And now she’s missing, you say?”
“Yes, sir,” I confirmed. “My friend Masou saw her being helped on board a boat at the Greenwich river steps.”
“Where is this Masou?” Drake demanded.
“He’s up the mast, keeping watch, sir,” I replied. “We came on board the night before last, sir, trying to find Lady Sarah—only we got locked in the sail locker by accident, and Mr. Newman thinks we’re stowaways so he sent us up the mast—”
“Stay there!” Drake commanded, already striding out of his cabin.
Just at that moment I heard a faint shout.
“Sail!” It was Masou’s voice. “Sail, ho!” he shouted again.
I rushed out on deck, too.
“Where away?” shouted the Boatswain.
“That way!” came Masou’s faint reply. He was much higher than the top—he was right up where we’d freed the banner, clinging like a monkey and pointing.
“Mr. Newman, make more sail!” Captain Drake bellowed.
I was puzzled—surely they didn’t have time to make sails, and anyway, there were plenty in the saillocker. But then I saw that Drake meant the crew to open up more sails on the masts, to catch more wind and move the ship faster.
He jumped up to the rail and started to climb the ratlines, smoothly and surely as if he were just climbing some stairs. I scrambled up after him, after tucking both letters in my doublet.
Puffing and clawing over the side of the fighting top, I saw Drake’s boots, and then felt him lift me up by my jerkin. He didn’t seem to mind that I hadn’t stayed where I was told. He was staring into the distance, where there were two white notches on the horizon. Masou was sliding down from his high perch, looking scared and worried.
“Tell me exactly what you saw when you watched Lady Sarah get in the boat at Greenwich,” Drake ordered Masou. “Whom was she with?”
“You’re Captain Drake, sir?” Masou asked, sounding very surprised.
“Aye, son, that’s my name.”
“Well, she was with a taller man than you, sir, with light hair,” Masou told him.
I stared at Masou, incredulous. He hadn’t recognized the man helping Lady Sarah into the boat as being someone other than Captain Drake? Then I realized that Masou had never seen Drake beforenow. It had been
I
who had told
him
that the man in the boat was Captain Drake. Because Mary and I had assumed it to be. …
“Straw-coloured hair? Green woollen suit?” demanded Drake, his face intent.
“Yes, sir.” Masou nodded. “No chin.”
“Hugh
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