direction and she adjusted her telescope, and we waited.
It did not seem very long afterwards that Sophie exclaimed, ‘I have it!’
She continued to fix her telescope on the approaching boat until she could make it out clearly with her naked eye. At that point she lowered the telescope once more and shouted ‘Boat ahoy!’ in a surprisingly loud voice, while pointing towards the boat. Every few seconds she repeated the cry, if anything even more loudly.
Below, on deck, her cries soon attracted attention, and men gathered on the starboard side of the vessel staring out to sea, as more men emerged from below decks. I saw that one figure on the quarterdeck appeared to command most respect and I guessed that this must be Jenny Blade, the captain.
Like the go-between I had now become, I whispered to Sophie that I would hurry to the jolly-boat to let Mr Wicker know they had been spotted.
She put the telescope to one side and grinned. I liked her, I realised. She was brave and clever and I felt a growing trust that, pirate ship or not, the men would not be treated barbarously once they were taken on board.
The journey to the jolly-boat was not so long, for the oarsmen had made good progress. Once I landed beside MrWicker, who was now standing in the prow like a figurehead, I understood why. The
Medusa
, with its tall masts and limp sails, was now clearly in view and this had energised the sailors who, despite their suffering, were rowing like men possessed.
‘The men on the
Medusa
have seen the jolly-boat,’ I reported to Mr Wicker.
‘Good,’ he murmured.
I turned to the others in the boat. The men were clearly now in some awe of Mr Wicker, even Captain Lightower was gripping the gunwales and staring at the barque in a kind of disbelieving wonder.
Beside him, my previous master sat, slack-jawed and open-mouthed. ‘Row, ye lubbers!’ he croaked. ‘Row, damn you! For there’ll be victuals enough soon and drink, I’ll be bound!’
I noted that this pleasing prospect was not sufficient to entice him to take an oar himself, although it was sufficiently pleasing for him to clench and unclench his fists in excited anticipation.
Slowly, remorselessly, the jolly-boat drew ever closer to the
Medusa
. By now we could see the figures on the deck watching our approach. I flew away from the jolly-boat and crossed once again to the barque. At some point Sophie must have descended from the crow’s nest for she was now standing not far from her mother on the quarterdeck. I landed as close to them as I dared, as I was curious about this woman who happened to be both a pirate captain and the mother of my new acquaintance.
Because of the tropic sun, she wore no jacket but a loose shirt and her long hair was wrapped in a red bandana. Unlike Sophie, she did not wear a skirt but pantaloons, stockings and boots of Spanish leather, like her men. In the manner of her men, too, she wore a scabbarded sabre by her side. Were it not for the fact that she was beardless, she might have been taken for a man, so berry-brown was her face from years of sun and salt-spray. This was not a woman who had preserved a complexion of ivory by reclining in darkened drawing rooms or brocaded chambers.
‘How many are there?’ she asked her companion, presumably her lieutenant, an older man with a battle-scarred face.
He lifted a telescope and counted under his breath. Then, lowering it again, he turned to Jenny Blade and said, ‘Nine, I believe: one in the prow, standing, two in the stern and six amidships, four of them rowing.’
‘It will be them, most like,’ said Jenny Blade, ‘unless by some strange chance they are Spanish?’
The lieutenant replied, ‘It is hard to say. The tall man in the prow could be I suppose. He looks swarthy enough. I cannot yet make much of the others. Who is to tell?’
‘Keep looking.’
‘Should we pick them up?’
Jenny Blade shrugged. ‘It might be more convenient to blow them out of the water. They
It did not seem very long afterwards that Sophie exclaimed, ‘I have it!’
She continued to fix her telescope on the approaching boat until she could make it out clearly with her naked eye. At that point she lowered the telescope once more and shouted ‘Boat ahoy!’ in a surprisingly loud voice, while pointing towards the boat. Every few seconds she repeated the cry, if anything even more loudly.
Below, on deck, her cries soon attracted attention, and men gathered on the starboard side of the vessel staring out to sea, as more men emerged from below decks. I saw that one figure on the quarterdeck appeared to command most respect and I guessed that this must be Jenny Blade, the captain.
Like the go-between I had now become, I whispered to Sophie that I would hurry to the jolly-boat to let Mr Wicker know they had been spotted.
She put the telescope to one side and grinned. I liked her, I realised. She was brave and clever and I felt a growing trust that, pirate ship or not, the men would not be treated barbarously once they were taken on board.
The journey to the jolly-boat was not so long, for the oarsmen had made good progress. Once I landed beside MrWicker, who was now standing in the prow like a figurehead, I understood why. The
Medusa
, with its tall masts and limp sails, was now clearly in view and this had energised the sailors who, despite their suffering, were rowing like men possessed.
‘The men on the
Medusa
have seen the jolly-boat,’ I reported to Mr Wicker.
‘Good,’ he murmured.
I turned to the others in the boat. The men were clearly now in some awe of Mr Wicker, even Captain Lightower was gripping the gunwales and staring at the barque in a kind of disbelieving wonder.
Beside him, my previous master sat, slack-jawed and open-mouthed. ‘Row, ye lubbers!’ he croaked. ‘Row, damn you! For there’ll be victuals enough soon and drink, I’ll be bound!’
I noted that this pleasing prospect was not sufficient to entice him to take an oar himself, although it was sufficiently pleasing for him to clench and unclench his fists in excited anticipation.
Slowly, remorselessly, the jolly-boat drew ever closer to the
Medusa
. By now we could see the figures on the deck watching our approach. I flew away from the jolly-boat and crossed once again to the barque. At some point Sophie must have descended from the crow’s nest for she was now standing not far from her mother on the quarterdeck. I landed as close to them as I dared, as I was curious about this woman who happened to be both a pirate captain and the mother of my new acquaintance.
Because of the tropic sun, she wore no jacket but a loose shirt and her long hair was wrapped in a red bandana. Unlike Sophie, she did not wear a skirt but pantaloons, stockings and boots of Spanish leather, like her men. In the manner of her men, too, she wore a scabbarded sabre by her side. Were it not for the fact that she was beardless, she might have been taken for a man, so berry-brown was her face from years of sun and salt-spray. This was not a woman who had preserved a complexion of ivory by reclining in darkened drawing rooms or brocaded chambers.
‘How many are there?’ she asked her companion, presumably her lieutenant, an older man with a battle-scarred face.
He lifted a telescope and counted under his breath. Then, lowering it again, he turned to Jenny Blade and said, ‘Nine, I believe: one in the prow, standing, two in the stern and six amidships, four of them rowing.’
‘It will be them, most like,’ said Jenny Blade, ‘unless by some strange chance they are Spanish?’
The lieutenant replied, ‘It is hard to say. The tall man in the prow could be I suppose. He looks swarthy enough. I cannot yet make much of the others. Who is to tell?’
‘Keep looking.’
‘Should we pick them up?’
Jenny Blade shrugged. ‘It might be more convenient to blow them out of the water. They
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