Chapter Seven
Mentioned the other day that I'm back into the third Stone Island Sea Story... tentatively titled Darnahsian Pirates. Anyway, finished up chapter seven and thought I'd share it. It's still a bit rough, especially the recent part. I've bolded the beginning of what I've just written. I can't say for sure, but there just might be some spoilers in here.
BTW, it's about 4300 words.
Enjoy!
Dave
The evening passed quietly aboard HMS Island Expedition. Everyone remained below and out of the rain, except those keeping watch on deck and aloft. Replacements went up at regular intervals. Forward, the hands gathered around the galley stove, drying off and warming up. Aft, the officers crowded the great cabin, made toasty by a small brazier and the several bodies in the small space.
At the camboose, men talked, joked, and laughed. One crewman retrieved his fiddle and played a tune. Some sang along, off-key but spirited. An extra ration of rum had been issued and coffee simmered on the stove. Hot water was also available for those preferring tea or chocolate. All the while, the cook and his mate kept a copper boiling with the oatmeal variation know as burgoo. On this strangely quiet night, it was available as needed or wanted.
The officers talked amongst themselves in the great cabin aft. Those that desired it made the trip forward for coffee or other hot drinks. Some, wanting something more substantial partook of the hot breakfast cereal, even though morning was at the opposite end of the day. In the confines of officer domain, stronger drink was not rationed, and a bottle of wine and one of brandy sat open on the table. Four played at cards to pass the time.
Pierce had played a game of whist, but upon winning, relinquished his seat to O’Brien. He had retreated to the aftermost port corner of the small room to read a while from a book recently purchased ashore. While the volume was interesting, his eyes had grown weary and he had fallen asleep, the book open against his chest. He awoke as someone moved about. “Is something up, gentlemen?” He asked.
“I shall be leaving to relieve Mr. Small,” said Morgan. Small had relieved Townsend, who had in turn relieved Andrews. That individual had relieved Pierce after they had anchored and settled down for the night. Pierce sleepily fumbled for his watch, noting that his officers were replacing each other on deck after about an hour and a half.
Townsend sat near the door, dressed in a shirt and seamen’s duck trousers. His other clothing was forward, drying near the camboose.
“The hands on watch are being relieved regularly, are they not, Mr. Townsend?” Pierce inquired.
“Indeed, sir, they are,” answered the schooner’s new and junior most lieutenant. “It’s still raining to kingdom come, sir. Doubt one can see half pistol shot in it.”
“Then we’ll sit where we are until it clears, lads,” said Pierce. We needn’t run ourselves aground, trying to move down river.”
“Aye, sir,” agreed Hotchkiss. He yawned. “If I fall asleep, awaken me that I might take over for Mr. Morgan.”
“And I will, in turn, relieve you, sir,” said Dial.
Feeling satisfied that his officers would spell each other at regular intervals, Pierce let his eyelids fall shut once more. O’Brien and Spencer were still left to go before he would feel the obligation to once again venture onto the dark rain soaked deck.
Pierce was on deck when the rain began to ease. If it cleared off, he planned to hoist anchor and continue the journey to the English Channel with first light. As he pondered the possibility of being underway again and the task of bringing the watches into some semblance with the watch bill, fog rolled across the water. Thick and gray it soon negated whatever improvement in visibility the lessening downpour permitted. Soon the fog was so thick that he could not see the foremast from the quarterdeck. In the distance he heard a ship’s bell, signaling its presence. While sight had been impaired by the rain, it did not block the lights as much as the fog did. He hoped to God that someone wasn’t underway in the thick gloom.
“Lofton,” Pierce said softly. “We would do well to strike the bell at regular intervals.”
“Aye aye, sir. I’ll see to it.” Pierce’s coxswain left his spot near the rail and started forward. About the time the fog swallowed him up; he spoke to another ghostly figure. The individual thus designated moved towards the bow and disappeared. Minutes later the ship’s bell rang, painfully loud upon the ears after the quiet of the night.
Later in the morning the wind picked up, chasing away the fog. “Mr. Hotchkiss!”
“Aye, sir?”
“We shall return to normal routine at noon. Starboards to have the afternoon watch, once we are underway.”
“Aye, sir.”
A week later Island Expedition beat along the southern English coast, bound for the Isle of Wight. Since the night of rain and fog, weather had been remarkably good for the time of year. True, the schooner and her crew were headed in a westerly direction and opposed by wind that would rather see them go the other way. But they put her first on one tack and then another, coming about a regular intervals as they fought for every inch of progress into the wind. Being a handy vessel, they made good progress, better than most vessels sailing the same course.
As they neared their destination, an air of excitement circulated amongst the crew. The Isle of Wight was the schooner’s home. She had been built, launched, and commissioned there. Now, after more than three years of voyaging, she was returning. While most of the hands, and indeed the officers hailed from every place in the British Isles and beyond, everywhere except the Isle of Wight, all had somehow come to recognize the place as home. If anything, it was a return to the beginning of what had been a long, adventurous, and unbelievable journey. The hands also knew the liberty to be good and that Pierce would grant as much as he possibly could.
Pierce felt the excitement as well. He would take a few days and journey inland to stay at the Smythe cottage. A bath using the unique system built by Harold Smythe would be most welcome, and he looked forward to relaxing and renewing his relationship with Evangeline. Other acquaintances demanded to be made or rebuilt as well. Prime amongst these, he needed to establish some report with her son. He felt that if the bond with her was to develop fully, he would eventually accept her child as if it were his.
He had seen Gertie briefly in Portsmouth a few weeks ago but had not spoken to Hiram since before the voyage. Pierce missed the gentle antagonism that existed between Smythe’s old caretaker and wife. He even wondered if Junior the dog would remember him. Other than Hiram who had answered the door, Junior was the first member of the household he had met upon calling the first time. That had been nearly four years ago.
The schooner was on a port tack when Portsmouth was sighted. Rather than anchoring at Spithead, she continued on, now on a starboard tack, into the choppy waters of the Solent. Along with O’Brien the master and newly promoted lieutenant Morgan, Pierce sighted various landmarks, taking his bearings.
“A short board on a port tack should allow us to fetch up nicely, sir,”
“Indeed, Mr. Morgan. You may call the watch below.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“But do we delay a quarter hour, sir, our final run will be not require us to be close hauled,” suggested the master.
“Very well. Belay ‘all hands,’ Mr. Morgan!”
“Aye, sir.”
Ten minutes later bo’sun’s’ pipes brought all hands running. With the ease of years at sea, Island Expedition tacked and pointed her sharp bows towards the English coast. An hour later she tacked again, this time bringing the wind over her starboard side, a mere point forward of amidships.
“Get the topgallants in, if you please, Mr. Hotchkiss!” ordered Pierce. The wind was freshening, and as they entered port they would need to reduce momentum at any rate. He would be damned if he would sail completely around the world only to splinter his schooner against the quay from which she had left. “Perhaps a reef in the topsails as well.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Pierce looked at his watch. “Once we shorten sail, you may pipe hands to dinner. We will dispense with a noon sighting today.”
“Aye, sir.” Hotchkiss nodded. Nearly home, they did not need to precisely establish noon, either to align the schooner’s daily routine with the sun, or to establish their longitude.
Just before the afternoon watch ended, Island Expedition bumped gently against the dock she had left many years before. Lines were made fast, mooring the schooner securely to the quay. With the work of mooring done, Pierce looked about him. The water front looked as he remembered it. Coincidentally, it appeared they had tied up in nearly the same position they had occupied when making ready to depart. They and the schooner were really and finally home.
As lines were coiled down and yards squared away, Pierce took stock of the other vessels nearby. Aft lay a vessel nearly identical in appearance to Island Expedition. “Your first, command, Isaac,” he said, catching his friend’s attention.
“I believe so.” Newly promoted Master and Commander Hotchkiss gazed at the other schooner. “Different paint scheme, however.”
“I’m sure you will have prerogative to change as you see fit.”
“Aye, and it would appear she mounts one more gun per side as well.”
Forward along the quay was another familiar looking vessel. Pierce searched his mind for what made it recognizable. Several of the hands evidently noted it as well, for a murmur arose from several throats. “Why sir, it’s the French brigantine we boarded,” remarked Morgan, stumping about the deck as he directed the final details of mooring. “Back when Theadora came upon those four Frenchies.”
“Of course, Mr. Morgan. Captain Cartier’s vessel, no doubt?”
“Quite possibly, sir, the Organization purchased it. Whether they did so prior to Captain Cartier’s coming on board, or expected to hire another captain, I do not know.”
“Looks to be a quite capacious vessel,” observed Hotchkiss. “But I wonder at her speed at sea. She seems a bit full ended, do you ask me.”
“Then it will be that vessel that determines our progress on this next voyage.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Mr. Hotchkiss,” said Pierce. “Once all is secure and the first dog watch commences, you may allow the port watch to have liberty until the start of the forenoon watch tomorrow. Idlers may be granted liberty at their division officers’ discretion.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
With the brow fixed in place, it wasn’t long before a visitor made his way aboard. Once he had observed the formalities for arriving on deck, the individual made his way to Pierce’s location.
“Captain, Pierce?” he said. “I doubt you remember me, but I am Dobbs, Sir Ronald’s personal secretary. He begs you, Master and Commander Hotchkiss, and any or all of your collective lieutenants join him at the Inn of the Isle.”
“Of course I remember you, Dobbs. Do tell Sir Ronald that unless he expects us earlier, we shall be there during the second dog watch.”
“I believe that would be satisfactory, sir. I still need to locate Captain Cartier, as his presence is desired as well.”
“Having recently arrived, I’m unable to help in that matter. My apologies. But tell me, is there any way to get a message to Newport and the Smythe household this afternoon?”
“A messenger could be hired for a reasonable sum, sir. Do you have it written?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t, Dobbs. A last minute decision, you see. Still I wanted to let Miss Smythe… Mrs. Carlisle and the household staff know I’d arrived on the island and would call tomorrow.”
“I’ll see word reaches them, sir. Never you worry.”
“Thank you, Dobbs.” Pierce said, knowing full well that the rest of the day and the oncoming night could not pass quickly enough. He wondered momentarily if he would be able to remain composed during the planned evening meeting with Sir Ronald and the others. The thought of seeing Evangeline again crowded all else from his mind.
Four bells sounded, ending the first dog watch, as Pierce, Hotchkiss, Small, Morgan, Andrews, and Townsend went ashore. O’Brien remained aboard as officer of the watch. While Sir Ronald had not requested all lieutenants to attend, and Pierce had not insisted that they do so, all had elected to come, primarily as one remarked, “that having some sort of plan for the evening is certainly more entertaining than having none at all.” The summons also allowed those that might have the duty a chance to go ashore for a few hours as well.
With Pierce in the lead, the party made its way along the once familiar route to the comfortable inn. Here, he remembered, they had feasted once, celebrating the commissioning of the schooner as a vessel in His Majesty’s Navy. Soon however, they would be hauling down the commissioning pennant, although Island Expedition would remain active and in service with the British Island Expedition Organization.
They arrived at the inn and were met by the proprietor who led them to a back room. Sir Ronald Author was there as could be expected. With him were Captain Cartier, a couple of unknown individuals, and as a surprise to Pierce, Mr. Clemmons.
“I could have provided passage, sir, “said Pierce to Mr. Clemmons after introductions had proceeded. The majority of his party hadn’t met the Secretary to the Head of Special Projects, and none from Island Expedition were acquainted with the gentlemen accompanying Cartier. They proved to be the sailing master and bo’sun from Cartier’s barkentine, Rose Marie.
“True, I suppose you could have, but it was in my mind to not inconvenience you. As it was, I had some business to attend to along the way. Thus, I came by coach and journeyed across by lugger early yesterday.”
“Indeed, sir, I had not expected that you would be here at all.”
“A certain gentleman that some of us know, well insisted. Much needs to be discussed and I have been given authority to act for him on behalf of the guardians and the British Island Expedition Organization.”
“It is for the best, then, as I had meant to meet with you prior to sailing in order to clarify a few things.”
“To be sure Captain, “said Sir Ronald. “If you and Mr. Clemmons do not dominate this evening’s conversation, perhaps clarification will be at hand.”
“My apologies, Sir Ronald,” offered Pierce.
“Mine as well,” added Clemmons.
“To begin gentlemen, let me signal for our meal. We surely will be better able to discuss these matters will a full stomach and quenched thirst.”
Dining afforded Pierce an opportunity to scrutinize the behavior of the newly commissioned lieutenants present. As the meal was served it occurred to him that something in their collective manner should suggest that they were indeed Royal Navy officers and not midshipmen striving to be. Having been acquainted with the lot for several years, he found it difficult to envision them as anything but candidates for a commission. Yet he was pleasantly surprised to find them acting the part dictated by their present rank.
During the course of the meal, those details he had thought to clarify with Mr. Clemmons were indeed taken in hand. Before the final wines and cheeses were served, Captain Cartier had agreed to have Small as his first lieutenant. Rose Marie’s sailing master and bo’sun agreed as well, presumably because it would slightly lessen the responsibilities placed on each of them. The fact that he was English and the rest of the barkentine’s complement French didn’t enter into it, because all concerned were in reality serving the British Island Expedition Organization and in turn, the guardians.
A brief discussion also ensued regarding uniforms. With Mr. Clemmons agreement on behalf of the organization, it was thought best to continue with what were basically Royal Navy regulations. Buttons and cockade would change from those required by the Navy. For those requiring new uniforms, buff or tan would replace the white of the Navy’s uniforms. Additionally, lieutenants and above would wear two epaulettes, plain for lieutenants, a single anchor for commanders, crossed anchors for captains under three years, and two sets of crossed anchors for those over three. A commodore of the second class, one who also commanded his pennant ship or vessel would have one four pointed star, regardless of seniority as captain. A commodore first class, one with an officer commanding his pennant ship would have two stars on each epaulette.
The next day, Pierce rented a horse. He chose an older animal, one that appeared obliging and steady. He told the livery man that the horse looked as if it needed a bit of a walk, some sort of trust in its ability, rather being passed by for youth. He rode easily long the road to Newport and soon overtook a wagon loaded with barrels of rum. Approaching at a walk, he hailed the wagon driver, who turned out to be the very individual who had provided Pierce with a ride on his first visit to Newport and the Smythe household. They exchanged pleasantries, the driver remembering the young man he had met several years ago. After a few minutes conversation, Pierce said his good-byes, lightly touched the horse’s flanks and spurred ahead along the road.
When he arrived at the Smythe cottage, he was once again struck by its appearance of benign neglect. Now, the place seemed even more unkempt, but he supposed that was to be expected, what with Smythe having been gone the past few years. There wasn’t much of staff to look after the place, just old Hiram and Gertie. Of course, Evangeline would not hesitate to involve herself in the day to day operation of the house.
With that somewhat oblique thought, Pierce’s mind returned to the real reason for his visit. His horse snorted, shied sideways and settled down. The noise was enough to be heard inside the dwelling, for an instant later a dog barked. “Junior!” Pierce called. The bark changed tone from one of warning to a whine of anticipation. The door opened, a multi-colored dog bounded to the gate, tail thrashing the air. The horse grew skitterish at the sight of the dog, but Pierce soon brought the beast under control and dismounted. Evangeline followed Junior out of the cottage. She opened the gate and in an instant the canine was at Pierce, jumping and whimpering with joy. Pierce bent down to ruffle the dog’s ears, and was in turn licked thoroughly about the face. As he temporarily tied his horse to the dilapidated fence, Junior ran back and forth, excited and overjoyed to see him again. Then as Evangeline moved nearer, Junior inspected the various shrubs in the immediate area and decided that one or two needed watering. Pierce and Evangeline embraced, a moment long anticipated by Pierce. As they ended the first kiss, she remarked, “Oh, Edward, I should not have let Junior out. You taste like dog.”
“But as I do, what better hound is there to taste like?”
“True! Now if you’ll get your baggage, I’ll see to the horse.”
“Hiram?’
“It’s just us, love. I’ve given Gertie and Hiram a few days off. They are in Gosport, visiting family.”
“The lad?”
“What do you expect? He is here, of course.”
Pierce untied his bundle and lifted it from the horse. The beast nickered softly and blinked his soft brown eyes in appreciation. Pierce handed the reins to Evangeline and headed inside. He clucked his tongue at Junior and the dog followed him.
After an early dinner, a meal that Evangeline had prepared herself, and one that satisfied Pierce to a great degree, the two of them poured coffee and slipped into the study. This well organized but slightly disarrayed space now carried more than a normal layer of dust upon its surfaces. Pierce sneezed.
“Bless you!” said Evangeline. “I haven’t always had time to keep it as clean as I should.”
“It doesn’t signify. I’m sure you’ve had more pressing matters.”
“Perhaps while you are here, you could go through things. See if Papa has left anything we should be aware of, or take with us on this next voyage.
“I’m delighted to hear you plan on going.”
“I am. Providing Kenneth’s family does not object.”
“I doubt they will.”
“You’ve contacted them?”
“In all honesty, no.”
“No?”
Perhaps, my dear, you should sit down. Have a sip of coffee and I’ll tell you what I’ve found,” said Pierce. He topped off both of their cups, allowing them each to have a full measure of the warming and awakening brew.
“Alas, they will try to prevent me from taking the babe.”
“No, I doubt it. You see, after our initial reunion, I wrote to his family. I have not had a reply, although time has been short. Isaac, my dear friend Isaac…”
“How is he? Does Sarah plan to make the return voyage with him?”
“Isaac is fine, love. At this point I’m not sure if he’s convinced her to come or not.”
“Oh, I hope he can persuade her.”
“As do I.” He pulled at his coffee cup. “Now, with regards to your Kenneth.”
“Yes?”
Pierce fidgeted in his chair. “I’m afraid, my dear, that you might have been played/”
“How so?”
“I don’t mean to suggest that your late husband was a bad man, but he may not have been all he seemed.”
“Oh, dear!”
“If I were to tell you that you and Kenneth weren’t really married?
Oh, my…”
“From what Isaac was able to discover, there were no less than three Mrs. Kenneth Carlisles.”
“Oh, my! A bit of a rogue, do you think?”
“Indeed! No less than three Mrs. Carlisles were putting in claims at the Admiralty. Naturally, the bureaucracy seized upon the earliest Mrs. Carlisle as being the one destined to inherit.”
“I see,” she said, remarkably without anger.
“Evidently, there is no family in the North. As mentioned, I’ve had no reply, so it seems you are free to take the child as you please.
“I do feel as if I’ve been used”.
“I’m sure you do, my dear.”
“I’d always suspected, although I don’t know why. Everything then happened so fast. It all seemed proper, as proper as it could be, considering….”
“I understand. Still, no one will prevent you from going and taking Glen Lewis with you.”
“No, but, it is a bit of a shock.”
Junior, who was with them in the study, whined softly and the nuzzled Evangeline’s dangling hand. She patted the dog affectionately and then stood. She kissed Pierce quickly, saying, “I’ve got chores to do, one of the disadvantages of sending Hiram and Gertie off for a few days. Take your ease and I’ll be back momentarily.”
“Right. I think I hear young Glen Lewis as well.”
Evangeline left and Pierce settled into the comfortable chair. He nudged the candle closer and picked up a book he’d brought with him, one that he’d been reading during the voyage from London.
He was engrossed in the story when she returned. “I’m sure you are tired, my dear. You should sleep.”
He chuckled in an absent-minded sort of way.
“You find that amusing?”
“Oh, not that. It’s a coincidence here in what I’m reading. It’s a continuing story, spread out over several books. Our hero meets the young lady of his dreams in the seventh chapter of the first book. Now, in the third, they are once again together, in the seventh chapter. I just thought it a bit odd, that’s all.”
“I see.”
“But you are right. A good night’s sleep would do me wonders. Truth, I’m looking forward to a bath in the morning… if it is still operable.”
“It is. But why not bathe tonight. I’ve found it really helps one to sleep.”
“Well…”
“I’ve got the fire going to heat the water. All is as it was when you were here before. There is a robe in your room, so take advantage of it.”
Pierce swallowed the last of a glass of Madera. “It sounds tempting.” A moment later he marked his place in the book, sat it upon the table and declared: “I believe I shall try it.”
Moments later he emerged from his room wearing only a robe and scuffs upon his feet. While there he’d noticed that she had laid out clean clothing for him, older, somewhat worn items, perhaps things left by her father or extras belonging to Hiram. He hurried down the hall, shivering in the cool evening air. It was a routine he remembered from past visits, although then the baths in the remarkable bathing room had always been in the morning. He looked forward to standing in Harold Smythe’s unique little room and letting the warm water fall gently over him.
He checked for the presence of a towel, took off and hung up the robe. Inside the small chamber he stood to one side and pulled the chain to start the flow of water. Testing with one hand, he used the other to open a valve; controlling the addition of cold water and resulting in a rain like deluge of wonderfully warm almost hot water. When the temperature was just right, he stepped under the down flow.
He hadn’t yet started to soap down when he thought he heard the door to the outer room open. He saw a shadow move across the ceiling and then the door opened. Evangeline, clad exactly as he was, stepped into the chamber with him. “It would be a waste of water for us to bathe separately, don’t you think?”
“Indeed,” Pierce said, instinctively taking her into his arms.
“You should know, Edward that I never shared a bath with anyone before.”
BTW, it's about 4300 words.
Enjoy!
Dave
The evening passed quietly aboard HMS Island Expedition. Everyone remained below and out of the rain, except those keeping watch on deck and aloft. Replacements went up at regular intervals. Forward, the hands gathered around the galley stove, drying off and warming up. Aft, the officers crowded the great cabin, made toasty by a small brazier and the several bodies in the small space.
At the camboose, men talked, joked, and laughed. One crewman retrieved his fiddle and played a tune. Some sang along, off-key but spirited. An extra ration of rum had been issued and coffee simmered on the stove. Hot water was also available for those preferring tea or chocolate. All the while, the cook and his mate kept a copper boiling with the oatmeal variation know as burgoo. On this strangely quiet night, it was available as needed or wanted.
The officers talked amongst themselves in the great cabin aft. Those that desired it made the trip forward for coffee or other hot drinks. Some, wanting something more substantial partook of the hot breakfast cereal, even though morning was at the opposite end of the day. In the confines of officer domain, stronger drink was not rationed, and a bottle of wine and one of brandy sat open on the table. Four played at cards to pass the time.
Pierce had played a game of whist, but upon winning, relinquished his seat to O’Brien. He had retreated to the aftermost port corner of the small room to read a while from a book recently purchased ashore. While the volume was interesting, his eyes had grown weary and he had fallen asleep, the book open against his chest. He awoke as someone moved about. “Is something up, gentlemen?” He asked.
“I shall be leaving to relieve Mr. Small,” said Morgan. Small had relieved Townsend, who had in turn relieved Andrews. That individual had relieved Pierce after they had anchored and settled down for the night. Pierce sleepily fumbled for his watch, noting that his officers were replacing each other on deck after about an hour and a half.
Townsend sat near the door, dressed in a shirt and seamen’s duck trousers. His other clothing was forward, drying near the camboose.
“The hands on watch are being relieved regularly, are they not, Mr. Townsend?” Pierce inquired.
“Indeed, sir, they are,” answered the schooner’s new and junior most lieutenant. “It’s still raining to kingdom come, sir. Doubt one can see half pistol shot in it.”
“Then we’ll sit where we are until it clears, lads,” said Pierce. We needn’t run ourselves aground, trying to move down river.”
“Aye, sir,” agreed Hotchkiss. He yawned. “If I fall asleep, awaken me that I might take over for Mr. Morgan.”
“And I will, in turn, relieve you, sir,” said Dial.
Feeling satisfied that his officers would spell each other at regular intervals, Pierce let his eyelids fall shut once more. O’Brien and Spencer were still left to go before he would feel the obligation to once again venture onto the dark rain soaked deck.
Pierce was on deck when the rain began to ease. If it cleared off, he planned to hoist anchor and continue the journey to the English Channel with first light. As he pondered the possibility of being underway again and the task of bringing the watches into some semblance with the watch bill, fog rolled across the water. Thick and gray it soon negated whatever improvement in visibility the lessening downpour permitted. Soon the fog was so thick that he could not see the foremast from the quarterdeck. In the distance he heard a ship’s bell, signaling its presence. While sight had been impaired by the rain, it did not block the lights as much as the fog did. He hoped to God that someone wasn’t underway in the thick gloom.
“Lofton,” Pierce said softly. “We would do well to strike the bell at regular intervals.”
“Aye aye, sir. I’ll see to it.” Pierce’s coxswain left his spot near the rail and started forward. About the time the fog swallowed him up; he spoke to another ghostly figure. The individual thus designated moved towards the bow and disappeared. Minutes later the ship’s bell rang, painfully loud upon the ears after the quiet of the night.
Later in the morning the wind picked up, chasing away the fog. “Mr. Hotchkiss!”
“Aye, sir?”
“We shall return to normal routine at noon. Starboards to have the afternoon watch, once we are underway.”
“Aye, sir.”
A week later Island Expedition beat along the southern English coast, bound for the Isle of Wight. Since the night of rain and fog, weather had been remarkably good for the time of year. True, the schooner and her crew were headed in a westerly direction and opposed by wind that would rather see them go the other way. But they put her first on one tack and then another, coming about a regular intervals as they fought for every inch of progress into the wind. Being a handy vessel, they made good progress, better than most vessels sailing the same course.
As they neared their destination, an air of excitement circulated amongst the crew. The Isle of Wight was the schooner’s home. She had been built, launched, and commissioned there. Now, after more than three years of voyaging, she was returning. While most of the hands, and indeed the officers hailed from every place in the British Isles and beyond, everywhere except the Isle of Wight, all had somehow come to recognize the place as home. If anything, it was a return to the beginning of what had been a long, adventurous, and unbelievable journey. The hands also knew the liberty to be good and that Pierce would grant as much as he possibly could.
Pierce felt the excitement as well. He would take a few days and journey inland to stay at the Smythe cottage. A bath using the unique system built by Harold Smythe would be most welcome, and he looked forward to relaxing and renewing his relationship with Evangeline. Other acquaintances demanded to be made or rebuilt as well. Prime amongst these, he needed to establish some report with her son. He felt that if the bond with her was to develop fully, he would eventually accept her child as if it were his.
He had seen Gertie briefly in Portsmouth a few weeks ago but had not spoken to Hiram since before the voyage. Pierce missed the gentle antagonism that existed between Smythe’s old caretaker and wife. He even wondered if Junior the dog would remember him. Other than Hiram who had answered the door, Junior was the first member of the household he had met upon calling the first time. That had been nearly four years ago.
The schooner was on a port tack when Portsmouth was sighted. Rather than anchoring at Spithead, she continued on, now on a starboard tack, into the choppy waters of the Solent. Along with O’Brien the master and newly promoted lieutenant Morgan, Pierce sighted various landmarks, taking his bearings.
“A short board on a port tack should allow us to fetch up nicely, sir,”
“Indeed, Mr. Morgan. You may call the watch below.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“But do we delay a quarter hour, sir, our final run will be not require us to be close hauled,” suggested the master.
“Very well. Belay ‘all hands,’ Mr. Morgan!”
“Aye, sir.”
Ten minutes later bo’sun’s’ pipes brought all hands running. With the ease of years at sea, Island Expedition tacked and pointed her sharp bows towards the English coast. An hour later she tacked again, this time bringing the wind over her starboard side, a mere point forward of amidships.
“Get the topgallants in, if you please, Mr. Hotchkiss!” ordered Pierce. The wind was freshening, and as they entered port they would need to reduce momentum at any rate. He would be damned if he would sail completely around the world only to splinter his schooner against the quay from which she had left. “Perhaps a reef in the topsails as well.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Pierce looked at his watch. “Once we shorten sail, you may pipe hands to dinner. We will dispense with a noon sighting today.”
“Aye, sir.” Hotchkiss nodded. Nearly home, they did not need to precisely establish noon, either to align the schooner’s daily routine with the sun, or to establish their longitude.
Just before the afternoon watch ended, Island Expedition bumped gently against the dock she had left many years before. Lines were made fast, mooring the schooner securely to the quay. With the work of mooring done, Pierce looked about him. The water front looked as he remembered it. Coincidentally, it appeared they had tied up in nearly the same position they had occupied when making ready to depart. They and the schooner were really and finally home.
As lines were coiled down and yards squared away, Pierce took stock of the other vessels nearby. Aft lay a vessel nearly identical in appearance to Island Expedition. “Your first, command, Isaac,” he said, catching his friend’s attention.
“I believe so.” Newly promoted Master and Commander Hotchkiss gazed at the other schooner. “Different paint scheme, however.”
“I’m sure you will have prerogative to change as you see fit.”
“Aye, and it would appear she mounts one more gun per side as well.”
Forward along the quay was another familiar looking vessel. Pierce searched his mind for what made it recognizable. Several of the hands evidently noted it as well, for a murmur arose from several throats. “Why sir, it’s the French brigantine we boarded,” remarked Morgan, stumping about the deck as he directed the final details of mooring. “Back when Theadora came upon those four Frenchies.”
“Of course, Mr. Morgan. Captain Cartier’s vessel, no doubt?”
“Quite possibly, sir, the Organization purchased it. Whether they did so prior to Captain Cartier’s coming on board, or expected to hire another captain, I do not know.”
“Looks to be a quite capacious vessel,” observed Hotchkiss. “But I wonder at her speed at sea. She seems a bit full ended, do you ask me.”
“Then it will be that vessel that determines our progress on this next voyage.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Mr. Hotchkiss,” said Pierce. “Once all is secure and the first dog watch commences, you may allow the port watch to have liberty until the start of the forenoon watch tomorrow. Idlers may be granted liberty at their division officers’ discretion.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
With the brow fixed in place, it wasn’t long before a visitor made his way aboard. Once he had observed the formalities for arriving on deck, the individual made his way to Pierce’s location.
“Captain, Pierce?” he said. “I doubt you remember me, but I am Dobbs, Sir Ronald’s personal secretary. He begs you, Master and Commander Hotchkiss, and any or all of your collective lieutenants join him at the Inn of the Isle.”
“Of course I remember you, Dobbs. Do tell Sir Ronald that unless he expects us earlier, we shall be there during the second dog watch.”
“I believe that would be satisfactory, sir. I still need to locate Captain Cartier, as his presence is desired as well.”
“Having recently arrived, I’m unable to help in that matter. My apologies. But tell me, is there any way to get a message to Newport and the Smythe household this afternoon?”
“A messenger could be hired for a reasonable sum, sir. Do you have it written?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t, Dobbs. A last minute decision, you see. Still I wanted to let Miss Smythe… Mrs. Carlisle and the household staff know I’d arrived on the island and would call tomorrow.”
“I’ll see word reaches them, sir. Never you worry.”
“Thank you, Dobbs.” Pierce said, knowing full well that the rest of the day and the oncoming night could not pass quickly enough. He wondered momentarily if he would be able to remain composed during the planned evening meeting with Sir Ronald and the others. The thought of seeing Evangeline again crowded all else from his mind.
Four bells sounded, ending the first dog watch, as Pierce, Hotchkiss, Small, Morgan, Andrews, and Townsend went ashore. O’Brien remained aboard as officer of the watch. While Sir Ronald had not requested all lieutenants to attend, and Pierce had not insisted that they do so, all had elected to come, primarily as one remarked, “that having some sort of plan for the evening is certainly more entertaining than having none at all.” The summons also allowed those that might have the duty a chance to go ashore for a few hours as well.
With Pierce in the lead, the party made its way along the once familiar route to the comfortable inn. Here, he remembered, they had feasted once, celebrating the commissioning of the schooner as a vessel in His Majesty’s Navy. Soon however, they would be hauling down the commissioning pennant, although Island Expedition would remain active and in service with the British Island Expedition Organization.
They arrived at the inn and were met by the proprietor who led them to a back room. Sir Ronald Author was there as could be expected. With him were Captain Cartier, a couple of unknown individuals, and as a surprise to Pierce, Mr. Clemmons.
“I could have provided passage, sir, “said Pierce to Mr. Clemmons after introductions had proceeded. The majority of his party hadn’t met the Secretary to the Head of Special Projects, and none from Island Expedition were acquainted with the gentlemen accompanying Cartier. They proved to be the sailing master and bo’sun from Cartier’s barkentine, Rose Marie.
“True, I suppose you could have, but it was in my mind to not inconvenience you. As it was, I had some business to attend to along the way. Thus, I came by coach and journeyed across by lugger early yesterday.”
“Indeed, sir, I had not expected that you would be here at all.”
“A certain gentleman that some of us know, well insisted. Much needs to be discussed and I have been given authority to act for him on behalf of the guardians and the British Island Expedition Organization.”
“It is for the best, then, as I had meant to meet with you prior to sailing in order to clarify a few things.”
“To be sure Captain, “said Sir Ronald. “If you and Mr. Clemmons do not dominate this evening’s conversation, perhaps clarification will be at hand.”
“My apologies, Sir Ronald,” offered Pierce.
“Mine as well,” added Clemmons.
“To begin gentlemen, let me signal for our meal. We surely will be better able to discuss these matters will a full stomach and quenched thirst.”
Dining afforded Pierce an opportunity to scrutinize the behavior of the newly commissioned lieutenants present. As the meal was served it occurred to him that something in their collective manner should suggest that they were indeed Royal Navy officers and not midshipmen striving to be. Having been acquainted with the lot for several years, he found it difficult to envision them as anything but candidates for a commission. Yet he was pleasantly surprised to find them acting the part dictated by their present rank.
During the course of the meal, those details he had thought to clarify with Mr. Clemmons were indeed taken in hand. Before the final wines and cheeses were served, Captain Cartier had agreed to have Small as his first lieutenant. Rose Marie’s sailing master and bo’sun agreed as well, presumably because it would slightly lessen the responsibilities placed on each of them. The fact that he was English and the rest of the barkentine’s complement French didn’t enter into it, because all concerned were in reality serving the British Island Expedition Organization and in turn, the guardians.
A brief discussion also ensued regarding uniforms. With Mr. Clemmons agreement on behalf of the organization, it was thought best to continue with what were basically Royal Navy regulations. Buttons and cockade would change from those required by the Navy. For those requiring new uniforms, buff or tan would replace the white of the Navy’s uniforms. Additionally, lieutenants and above would wear two epaulettes, plain for lieutenants, a single anchor for commanders, crossed anchors for captains under three years, and two sets of crossed anchors for those over three. A commodore of the second class, one who also commanded his pennant ship or vessel would have one four pointed star, regardless of seniority as captain. A commodore first class, one with an officer commanding his pennant ship would have two stars on each epaulette.
The next day, Pierce rented a horse. He chose an older animal, one that appeared obliging and steady. He told the livery man that the horse looked as if it needed a bit of a walk, some sort of trust in its ability, rather being passed by for youth. He rode easily long the road to Newport and soon overtook a wagon loaded with barrels of rum. Approaching at a walk, he hailed the wagon driver, who turned out to be the very individual who had provided Pierce with a ride on his first visit to Newport and the Smythe household. They exchanged pleasantries, the driver remembering the young man he had met several years ago. After a few minutes conversation, Pierce said his good-byes, lightly touched the horse’s flanks and spurred ahead along the road.
When he arrived at the Smythe cottage, he was once again struck by its appearance of benign neglect. Now, the place seemed even more unkempt, but he supposed that was to be expected, what with Smythe having been gone the past few years. There wasn’t much of staff to look after the place, just old Hiram and Gertie. Of course, Evangeline would not hesitate to involve herself in the day to day operation of the house.
With that somewhat oblique thought, Pierce’s mind returned to the real reason for his visit. His horse snorted, shied sideways and settled down. The noise was enough to be heard inside the dwelling, for an instant later a dog barked. “Junior!” Pierce called. The bark changed tone from one of warning to a whine of anticipation. The door opened, a multi-colored dog bounded to the gate, tail thrashing the air. The horse grew skitterish at the sight of the dog, but Pierce soon brought the beast under control and dismounted. Evangeline followed Junior out of the cottage. She opened the gate and in an instant the canine was at Pierce, jumping and whimpering with joy. Pierce bent down to ruffle the dog’s ears, and was in turn licked thoroughly about the face. As he temporarily tied his horse to the dilapidated fence, Junior ran back and forth, excited and overjoyed to see him again. Then as Evangeline moved nearer, Junior inspected the various shrubs in the immediate area and decided that one or two needed watering. Pierce and Evangeline embraced, a moment long anticipated by Pierce. As they ended the first kiss, she remarked, “Oh, Edward, I should not have let Junior out. You taste like dog.”
“But as I do, what better hound is there to taste like?”
“True! Now if you’ll get your baggage, I’ll see to the horse.”
“Hiram?’
“It’s just us, love. I’ve given Gertie and Hiram a few days off. They are in Gosport, visiting family.”
“The lad?”
“What do you expect? He is here, of course.”
Pierce untied his bundle and lifted it from the horse. The beast nickered softly and blinked his soft brown eyes in appreciation. Pierce handed the reins to Evangeline and headed inside. He clucked his tongue at Junior and the dog followed him.
After an early dinner, a meal that Evangeline had prepared herself, and one that satisfied Pierce to a great degree, the two of them poured coffee and slipped into the study. This well organized but slightly disarrayed space now carried more than a normal layer of dust upon its surfaces. Pierce sneezed.
“Bless you!” said Evangeline. “I haven’t always had time to keep it as clean as I should.”
“It doesn’t signify. I’m sure you’ve had more pressing matters.”
“Perhaps while you are here, you could go through things. See if Papa has left anything we should be aware of, or take with us on this next voyage.
“I’m delighted to hear you plan on going.”
“I am. Providing Kenneth’s family does not object.”
“I doubt they will.”
“You’ve contacted them?”
“In all honesty, no.”
“No?”
Perhaps, my dear, you should sit down. Have a sip of coffee and I’ll tell you what I’ve found,” said Pierce. He topped off both of their cups, allowing them each to have a full measure of the warming and awakening brew.
“Alas, they will try to prevent me from taking the babe.”
“No, I doubt it. You see, after our initial reunion, I wrote to his family. I have not had a reply, although time has been short. Isaac, my dear friend Isaac…”
“How is he? Does Sarah plan to make the return voyage with him?”
“Isaac is fine, love. At this point I’m not sure if he’s convinced her to come or not.”
“Oh, I hope he can persuade her.”
“As do I.” He pulled at his coffee cup. “Now, with regards to your Kenneth.”
“Yes?”
Pierce fidgeted in his chair. “I’m afraid, my dear, that you might have been played/”
“How so?”
“I don’t mean to suggest that your late husband was a bad man, but he may not have been all he seemed.”
“Oh, dear!”
“If I were to tell you that you and Kenneth weren’t really married?
Oh, my…”
“From what Isaac was able to discover, there were no less than three Mrs. Kenneth Carlisles.”
“Oh, my! A bit of a rogue, do you think?”
“Indeed! No less than three Mrs. Carlisles were putting in claims at the Admiralty. Naturally, the bureaucracy seized upon the earliest Mrs. Carlisle as being the one destined to inherit.”
“I see,” she said, remarkably without anger.
“Evidently, there is no family in the North. As mentioned, I’ve had no reply, so it seems you are free to take the child as you please.
“I do feel as if I’ve been used”.
“I’m sure you do, my dear.”
“I’d always suspected, although I don’t know why. Everything then happened so fast. It all seemed proper, as proper as it could be, considering….”
“I understand. Still, no one will prevent you from going and taking Glen Lewis with you.”
“No, but, it is a bit of a shock.”
Junior, who was with them in the study, whined softly and the nuzzled Evangeline’s dangling hand. She patted the dog affectionately and then stood. She kissed Pierce quickly, saying, “I’ve got chores to do, one of the disadvantages of sending Hiram and Gertie off for a few days. Take your ease and I’ll be back momentarily.”
“Right. I think I hear young Glen Lewis as well.”
Evangeline left and Pierce settled into the comfortable chair. He nudged the candle closer and picked up a book he’d brought with him, one that he’d been reading during the voyage from London.
He was engrossed in the story when she returned. “I’m sure you are tired, my dear. You should sleep.”
He chuckled in an absent-minded sort of way.
“You find that amusing?”
“Oh, not that. It’s a coincidence here in what I’m reading. It’s a continuing story, spread out over several books. Our hero meets the young lady of his dreams in the seventh chapter of the first book. Now, in the third, they are once again together, in the seventh chapter. I just thought it a bit odd, that’s all.”
“I see.”
“But you are right. A good night’s sleep would do me wonders. Truth, I’m looking forward to a bath in the morning… if it is still operable.”
“It is. But why not bathe tonight. I’ve found it really helps one to sleep.”
“Well…”
“I’ve got the fire going to heat the water. All is as it was when you were here before. There is a robe in your room, so take advantage of it.”
Pierce swallowed the last of a glass of Madera. “It sounds tempting.” A moment later he marked his place in the book, sat it upon the table and declared: “I believe I shall try it.”
Moments later he emerged from his room wearing only a robe and scuffs upon his feet. While there he’d noticed that she had laid out clean clothing for him, older, somewhat worn items, perhaps things left by her father or extras belonging to Hiram. He hurried down the hall, shivering in the cool evening air. It was a routine he remembered from past visits, although then the baths in the remarkable bathing room had always been in the morning. He looked forward to standing in Harold Smythe’s unique little room and letting the warm water fall gently over him.
He checked for the presence of a towel, took off and hung up the robe. Inside the small chamber he stood to one side and pulled the chain to start the flow of water. Testing with one hand, he used the other to open a valve; controlling the addition of cold water and resulting in a rain like deluge of wonderfully warm almost hot water. When the temperature was just right, he stepped under the down flow.
He hadn’t yet started to soap down when he thought he heard the door to the outer room open. He saw a shadow move across the ceiling and then the door opened. Evangeline, clad exactly as he was, stepped into the chamber with him. “It would be a waste of water for us to bathe separately, don’t you think?”
“Indeed,” Pierce said, instinctively taking her into his arms.
“You should know, Edward that I never shared a bath with anyone before.”