trace of detached amusement, his long greatcoat open, his fists planted on his hips. The light reflected off the inlaid silver in the grips of a pair of pistols tucked into his belt. The man’s eyes narrowed in response to Jack Frake’s scrutiny, as though he knew what the boy was thinking. “Curtain,” he said.
Blair rose and fixed a curtain of burlap over the entrance of what Jack Frake now realized was an alcove in a larger cave. The light dimmed, then returned as Blair lit a lantern, which he hung on another peg in the stone wall. He sat down again. “How’s your head, Jack?” he asked.
Jack Frake sat up on the mattress. He felt a slight throbbing on the left side of his skull. He put a hand to it and located a swelling beneath his hair. “Almost better,” he answered.
“Thanks to a generous portion of Dover’s powder. You’re still in pain — that bosun whacked you hard — but the opium and Indian root take offthe edge. You’ll feel nothing in a day or two.”
“What happened? Where am I?”
“My, er, friends rescued me from Constable Skeats’s quarters. Then we rescued you, collected your things and mine from the inn, and brought you here. You’ve been flickering in and out for almost a day now.”
“I was coming to see you.”
“To see me?”
“I thought I could do something to get you out.”
“Thanks again,” chuckled Blair. “The Admiral and his aides had retired to their inn hours earlier, and Commissioner Pannell and his men went to see some ladies to celebrate my capture. They didn’t get much from me except an incredible elaboration of my Boston-Bristol story, and I suppose that tired them. As time went on I imagine the questioning would’ve become much less cordial. We trussed up Mr. Skeats and his wife and left them a shilling for their trouble.” Blair glanced up to his companion, who remained silent. “As we came out on Jetty, we saw the press-gang cornering you. Didn’t look like fair odds, so we decided to even them up.”
“Was there a fight?”
“No, thank the Lord. Bosun Jones and his gang were too stunned. We left them in the alley gagged and bound together in knots I’ll bet they never heard of. For good measure, I whacked Jones once or twice in your name. Don’t think he’ll bully another scullion any time soon who’s got so many uncles and cousins.”
Jack Frake stared at Blair for a moment, and remembered what else was missing from the man. “You don’t have that funny tongue.”
“My Scot’s brogue?” chuckled Blair. “A mere theatrical illusion, but Admiral Harle and the entire company of the inn were a commendable audience.”
“What’s your real name?”
The silent man raised a finger, silencing Blair, then jerked his head, and the two went out past the curtain. Jack Frake noticed that all his belongings were heaped on the cave floor near the mattress. As he took an inventory of his possessions, he could hear a whispered discussion taking place beyond the curtain above the murmur of dozens of other voices.
The men returned a moment later. The friendliness of Blair’s face was tempered now by a seriousness that matched the silent man’s. He sat on his stool and looked at Jack Frake as a man looks at a man. “You’ll get an answer to that question and others I’m sure you’re bound to ask, but you’reto know there’ll be but one of two consequences: You’ll be turned out of here, or you’ll be staying. If you’re turned out, we’ll blindfold you and put you on a country road and you’ll be on your own. If you stay, you’ll take the pledge. It’ll be your decision.”
Blair paused. “You can’t go back to the Sea Siren. That bosun will want to kill you now, and that Lieutenant Farbrace hasn’t forgotten you, either, and the
Rover
will be at anchor at Gwynnford for a few days before pushing off to Spithead or Portsmouth. Did you deliver that note to the vicar? I take it that’s why you were out.”
Jack Frake
Blair rose and fixed a curtain of burlap over the entrance of what Jack Frake now realized was an alcove in a larger cave. The light dimmed, then returned as Blair lit a lantern, which he hung on another peg in the stone wall. He sat down again. “How’s your head, Jack?” he asked.
Jack Frake sat up on the mattress. He felt a slight throbbing on the left side of his skull. He put a hand to it and located a swelling beneath his hair. “Almost better,” he answered.
“Thanks to a generous portion of Dover’s powder. You’re still in pain — that bosun whacked you hard — but the opium and Indian root take offthe edge. You’ll feel nothing in a day or two.”
“What happened? Where am I?”
“My, er, friends rescued me from Constable Skeats’s quarters. Then we rescued you, collected your things and mine from the inn, and brought you here. You’ve been flickering in and out for almost a day now.”
“I was coming to see you.”
“To see me?”
“I thought I could do something to get you out.”
“Thanks again,” chuckled Blair. “The Admiral and his aides had retired to their inn hours earlier, and Commissioner Pannell and his men went to see some ladies to celebrate my capture. They didn’t get much from me except an incredible elaboration of my Boston-Bristol story, and I suppose that tired them. As time went on I imagine the questioning would’ve become much less cordial. We trussed up Mr. Skeats and his wife and left them a shilling for their trouble.” Blair glanced up to his companion, who remained silent. “As we came out on Jetty, we saw the press-gang cornering you. Didn’t look like fair odds, so we decided to even them up.”
“Was there a fight?”
“No, thank the Lord. Bosun Jones and his gang were too stunned. We left them in the alley gagged and bound together in knots I’ll bet they never heard of. For good measure, I whacked Jones once or twice in your name. Don’t think he’ll bully another scullion any time soon who’s got so many uncles and cousins.”
Jack Frake stared at Blair for a moment, and remembered what else was missing from the man. “You don’t have that funny tongue.”
“My Scot’s brogue?” chuckled Blair. “A mere theatrical illusion, but Admiral Harle and the entire company of the inn were a commendable audience.”
“What’s your real name?”
The silent man raised a finger, silencing Blair, then jerked his head, and the two went out past the curtain. Jack Frake noticed that all his belongings were heaped on the cave floor near the mattress. As he took an inventory of his possessions, he could hear a whispered discussion taking place beyond the curtain above the murmur of dozens of other voices.
The men returned a moment later. The friendliness of Blair’s face was tempered now by a seriousness that matched the silent man’s. He sat on his stool and looked at Jack Frake as a man looks at a man. “You’ll get an answer to that question and others I’m sure you’re bound to ask, but you’reto know there’ll be but one of two consequences: You’ll be turned out of here, or you’ll be staying. If you’re turned out, we’ll blindfold you and put you on a country road and you’ll be on your own. If you stay, you’ll take the pledge. It’ll be your decision.”
Blair paused. “You can’t go back to the Sea Siren. That bosun will want to kill you now, and that Lieutenant Farbrace hasn’t forgotten you, either, and the
Rover
will be at anchor at Gwynnford for a few days before pushing off to Spithead or Portsmouth. Did you deliver that note to the vicar? I take it that’s why you were out.”
Jack Frake
Similar Books
