Wade swung himself up and over the bulwark. He was shedding
water like a sheepdog; his hair was smeared over his face, his shirt was
transparent where it clung to his chest like a thin, wrinkled layer of skin.
He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back with
an angry impatience. "Thorny? What the bloody hell have you done to
yourself?"
"Bah! N'owt but a nick, Cap'n."
"A nick, eh?" He glanced at the hatch.
"Have we men on the pumps?"
"Aye. Bailin' lines as well. She's fillin' fast,
though."
"I don't wonder. She's got a piece of the reef in
her timbers. Monday and I are trying to get it out, but it may take a while.
Are you sure you're all right?"
"Aye, Cap'n, fine. Fine. No call ter stand 'ere
gawkin' on me—get on with yer business."
Wade's scowl eased. The blue eyes scanned the crew a
moment. "Hawkins . . . Willard . . . we'll need your backs below. Mr.
Phillips— "
A youngish-looking man stepped forward. He was of
medium height and slight build, and his expression was as earnest as his reply.
"Aye, sir!"
"You'll take the deck watch to make sure we don't
bring in more water than we can handle. Put everyone to bailing if you must,
but see that she's kept from dropping too low."
"Aye, sir."
"And get some men started on a patch we can shore
up from the inside. Tear up a section of decking if you have to, but I want a
strong patch."
"Aye, sir!"
"And Mr. Phillips—I'll want two gigs in the
water, one at each end of this blasted channel. Tell them to keep a sharp eye
out for company. I've no taste to be caught sitting here like a lame
duck."
The young man blinked. "Aye, sir."
"And when you've got the pumping under control, I
want every able hand down in the cargo hold. We're going to have to off-load
the lot of it to keep her nose above the waterline."
Thorny peered up. "Eh? Ye're not aimin' ter chuck
it in the drink, are ye, Cap'n? We be only six 'our from the Key, give 'r take.
Why n'owt unload 'er on shore an' come back fer it later? Won't take any longer ter do, an' the lads
might feel better fer it."
Wade glanced over, quelling his impatience at the
sight of Thorny's pale face.
"If n it's still 'ere, we win. If n it's gone, we
lose, but leastwise we hain't t'rowin it away."
Wade consulted the expressions on the faces of his
men. "Aye, you're right. No sense drowning good profits. I'll leave you in
charge, then, if you're up to it."
"Up ter it?" Thorny beamed and straightened
at once. "Ye'll 'ave 'er weight gone in a twink."
"You just make sure you get that arm tended to
first."
"Bah! N'owt but a—"
"Thorny!"
"Aye, Cap'n, aye. Stitch 'er meself if n I'ave
ter."
Wade's smile had not faded completely when he started
back to the side of the ship. He saw Summer and Michael out of the corner of
his eye and grunted in passing, "If you're going to stay up top, make sure
you are in no one's way."
"Are we going to sink?" Michael asked.
"Not if I can help it, lad."
"But are we in danger?"
Wade halted. "Can you swim?"
"Yes, of course—"
"Then you're not in danger," said Wade,
indicating either side of the ship. "You've a choice of two islands to
swim for."
He continued to the open gangway, peeling his shirt up
and over his shoulders as he walked. He tugged the wide belt from around his
waist and unlooped the thong holding his breeches. Summer caught a glimpse of
taut buttocks and sinewed thighs before he was arching over the side into the
water.
Michael stood at the rail again to watch, but Summer
was gazing thoughtfully at the conical island off the port side. It could be
done. They were both strong swimmers—the day and night spent in the stormy
ocean proved as much. The distance from the ship to the first sandbar was no
more than three hundred yards.
"Michael?"
"Mmm?"
"What do you suppose"—she lowered her voice,
conscious of the sailors milling past them—"we would find on those
islands?"
"Nothing, most probably. They certainly don't
look big enough to have people ... or
much of
water like a sheepdog; his hair was smeared over his face, his shirt was
transparent where it clung to his chest like a thin, wrinkled layer of skin.
He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back with
an angry impatience. "Thorny? What the bloody hell have you done to
yourself?"
"Bah! N'owt but a nick, Cap'n."
"A nick, eh?" He glanced at the hatch.
"Have we men on the pumps?"
"Aye. Bailin' lines as well. She's fillin' fast,
though."
"I don't wonder. She's got a piece of the reef in
her timbers. Monday and I are trying to get it out, but it may take a while.
Are you sure you're all right?"
"Aye, Cap'n, fine. Fine. No call ter stand 'ere
gawkin' on me—get on with yer business."
Wade's scowl eased. The blue eyes scanned the crew a
moment. "Hawkins . . . Willard . . . we'll need your backs below. Mr.
Phillips— "
A youngish-looking man stepped forward. He was of
medium height and slight build, and his expression was as earnest as his reply.
"Aye, sir!"
"You'll take the deck watch to make sure we don't
bring in more water than we can handle. Put everyone to bailing if you must,
but see that she's kept from dropping too low."
"Aye, sir."
"And get some men started on a patch we can shore
up from the inside. Tear up a section of decking if you have to, but I want a
strong patch."
"Aye, sir!"
"And Mr. Phillips—I'll want two gigs in the
water, one at each end of this blasted channel. Tell them to keep a sharp eye
out for company. I've no taste to be caught sitting here like a lame
duck."
The young man blinked. "Aye, sir."
"And when you've got the pumping under control, I
want every able hand down in the cargo hold. We're going to have to off-load
the lot of it to keep her nose above the waterline."
Thorny peered up. "Eh? Ye're not aimin' ter chuck
it in the drink, are ye, Cap'n? We be only six 'our from the Key, give 'r take.
Why n'owt unload 'er on shore an' come back fer it later? Won't take any longer ter do, an' the lads
might feel better fer it."
Wade glanced over, quelling his impatience at the
sight of Thorny's pale face.
"If n it's still 'ere, we win. If n it's gone, we
lose, but leastwise we hain't t'rowin it away."
Wade consulted the expressions on the faces of his
men. "Aye, you're right. No sense drowning good profits. I'll leave you in
charge, then, if you're up to it."
"Up ter it?" Thorny beamed and straightened
at once. "Ye'll 'ave 'er weight gone in a twink."
"You just make sure you get that arm tended to
first."
"Bah! N'owt but a—"
"Thorny!"
"Aye, Cap'n, aye. Stitch 'er meself if n I'ave
ter."
Wade's smile had not faded completely when he started
back to the side of the ship. He saw Summer and Michael out of the corner of
his eye and grunted in passing, "If you're going to stay up top, make sure
you are in no one's way."
"Are we going to sink?" Michael asked.
"Not if I can help it, lad."
"But are we in danger?"
Wade halted. "Can you swim?"
"Yes, of course—"
"Then you're not in danger," said Wade,
indicating either side of the ship. "You've a choice of two islands to
swim for."
He continued to the open gangway, peeling his shirt up
and over his shoulders as he walked. He tugged the wide belt from around his
waist and unlooped the thong holding his breeches. Summer caught a glimpse of
taut buttocks and sinewed thighs before he was arching over the side into the
water.
Michael stood at the rail again to watch, but Summer
was gazing thoughtfully at the conical island off the port side. It could be
done. They were both strong swimmers—the day and night spent in the stormy
ocean proved as much. The distance from the ship to the first sandbar was no
more than three hundred yards.
"Michael?"
"Mmm?"
"What do you suppose"—she lowered her voice,
conscious of the sailors milling past them—"we would find on those
islands?"
"Nothing, most probably. They certainly don't
look big enough to have people ... or
much of
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