Mississippi Jack: Being an Account of the Further Waterborne Adventures of Jacky Faber, Midshipman, Fine Lady, and Lily of the West (44 page)

"That's not much."

"I think it is all you could hope for. After all, this is
my
boat now. It is a prize. Do you have a name for it, Captain?"

"No."

"Then I name it
Britannia,
since it contains eight fine, valiant servants of the King." I hear a snort or two from the rear. "You will not offer us a glass of wine? Our throats are dry from today's sport."

He barks out a laugh. "We drank it all up during our courtship, don't you remember, Princess Pretty-Bottom?" More snickers from the back.

"Ah, well," replies this princess, "we have ample stores of good food and drink, and we shall share. There is that to consider. I assume your stores are both low and mean." Grunts from the rear.

"All right," says Allen to his soldiers, "that's enough out of you!" There is silence aft. "Will you give the money back?"

"Why? So you can use it to buy the scalps of innocent women and children?"

"I am not in the market for any scalps. Except perhaps yours."

"You shan't get it."

"We'll see. I should be most honored and pleased to add your scalp—your figurative, metaphorical scalp, of course—to my belt." He looks at me with a merry impudence.
Just who is the conquered one here?

"I think you have had too much education, Lord Allen, and I suspect it was all wasted on you."

"Too true. I am educated, but in any exchanges I have had with you, I must confess I feel myself an educated fool."

"This will further your education, then. I am promised in marriage to Lieutenant James Emerson Fletcher, Royal Navy, and I intend to honor that pledge." I stick my nose in the air and assume the Lawson Peabody Look.

"And just where is this fine lieutenant who has brought the formidable Jacky Faber to heel? Is he hereabouts, so that I might run him through quickly and cleanly and so relieve you of the onerous burden of your pledge of maidenly fidelity, which I'm sure was a hasty one?"

My face is beginning to burn, as I feel I am losing in this exchange. "Well, will you give your parole?"

"Will you give us back our weapons, if I do?"

"No."

"Then I will not. We are soldiers and we do not like being defenseless."

"Then good day to you, Sir. Suffer your confinement for your stubbornness. Higgins, let us go."

"
Adieu,
my little woodland sprite." He does not get up as we exit.

I stomp out of the
Britannia
in total retreat.
Fine, Mr. Captain Richard Lord Allen! Sit down there in the gloom with your sullen men and listen to the revels that will resound from the
Belle of the Golden West
this night. Oh, yes, I will make sure the music is loud and the laughter is wild and joyous, oh yes, and it will continue far, far into the night. Count on it!

"Katy, did Lightfoot give you anything when he got back from the Indian village?" I ask. It's morning and we're down in our cabin getting ready for the day. Katy is washing up and I'm combing out Clementine's hair and getting ready to put it in braids. We're all a bit groggy from last night's celebration, which went on far into the night. We had pulled the
Britannia
up next to us when we anchored for the night and grappled her tight to our side so that the soldiers therein could fully appreciate what they were missing. I made sure the fiddling, harpsichording, singing, and general carousing were as loud as I could possibly make them. I also made a point of singing "As We Marched Down to Fennario" loud and clear, especially to gall Richard Lord Allen. Or so I fondly hoped.

"No. Why would Lightfoot want to give me something?"

Why, that bashful dolt! He'd fight ten men, wrestle a mountain lion, and kill a bear with his bare hands, yet he can't give a present to a girl!

"Oh, nothing, Katy. Just asking, is all. There, Clementine, you are done." I pat her on both shoulders. "I think
Jim Tanner could use a nice strong cup of tea." She hops up and darts out of the cabin.

"Could you stay here a moment, Katy? I'll be right back. Thanks."

I leave the cabin barefoot, dressed in my Indian skirt and light cotton shirt, my intended costume for the rest of this voyage, as it is the coolest possible outfit I have that still stays within the admittedly loose bounds of propriety that manage to exist on board the
Belle.
Hell, in this heat I'd go starkers, but for sure
that
wouldn't wash, not even here.

I find Lightfoot up forward, crouched with Chee-a-quat, sharpening knives. They have done their own and are now honing Crow Jane's.

"Lightfoot, how come you didn't give Katy Deere those presents you got for her when you got back to the boat?"

Lightfoot rises to his feet and towers over me. Could he be blushing?

"Uh ... didn't seem right. We hadn't gotten you back yet."

"I've been back almost a full day now."

"Well ... uh ... I..."

"Do you want me to give 'em to her?"

"Yup."

"All right, hand 'em over."

Lightfoot ducks into the open hatchway to the main cabin and shortly returns with the quiver and the buckskin dress. He thrusts them at me and then returns to sit with Chee-a-quat.

I go see Katy Deere.

She is done washing and sits looking expectantly at me when I come into the cabin bearing gifts. "These are from Lightfoot," I say, handing her the quiver of arrows and laying the beaded skirt and shirt on her bed, spread out so she can see them. "He asked me to tell you that he's willin'. Those were his words."

She smiles slightly as she draws one of the finely crafted arrows from the quiver and then chuckles, "Well, I'll be durned."

I turn and leave Katy Deere with her new treasures and, undoubtedly, some very new things to ponder.

"She didn't say anything," I report to Lightfoot. "But she took 'em."

When he doesn't say anything, I say, "You've got to give a girl time, Lightfoot, especially a girl like Katy."

"
Wah,
" he replies, and turns back to his knives.

I give Pretty Saro a bit of an ear scratch and then climb up on the cabin top and take a seat at my table. I am thankful for the canopy overhead, shielding me from the fierce sun, and I am ever so grateful to be back here at my usual station, free once again.

Seeing Higgins emerge from the main cabin, I catch his eye and he comes to my side.

"Good morning, Miss. I trust you slept well."

"Like a baby, secure in the company of my dearest friends. Please have a seat, Higgins, as we've got to talk."

He sits, folds his hands on the table, and waits for me to begin.

"We're stretched too thin, having to manage four, sometimes eight, sweeps with our little crew. We've got to do something about it."

Higgins nods, looking over both the
Belle
and the
Britannia.

"You could release the other boat and let them make their own way downriver."

"I could, but I don't want to leave them unarmed and helpless in this wilderness. But on the other hand, I don't want to give them back their guns—Captain Allen might feel honor bound to try to capture me. After all, I am a wanted fugitive. I know he wouldn't do it for the reward, but he might do it out of a sense of duty. No, I must have his parole."

"Do you think he would stand by his word, if he gave it?"

"He could have ravished me when I was a bound captive and he didn't, though I know he very much wanted to."

"
Hmm.
Well, that's commendable. Is he really a lord? I heard you call him that."

"Aye. He portrays himself as the black sheep of the family."

"
Umm.
"

We both sit and mull over the problem for a while, then Higgins says, "You'll remember, Miss, that during yesterday's discussion with Captain Allen, he asked if you would return the money and you refused."

"Right. It goes against my nature to return plunder."

"I know. But consider this: I have counted the money and it is not much—only eight hundred and ninety American dollars. We have been making steady money on our way down these rivers. What with the Cave-in-Rock loot, the income from the performances, the house percentage from Mr. Cantrell's games, and the tavern sales, we are quite well-fixed. We shall be able to pay off everybody when we get to New Orleans and book quite comfortable ship passage to anywhere you might like to go."

"We'll be even better off if we keep that money."

"Yes, but I will say again that this is Crown money. If you are ever taken by the British government, you could make a strong case against the piracy charge, since you had the Letter of Marque. Your seizing of the
Emerald
could be justified, too, because as commander of the
Wolverine,
you felt it was your fair share of the prizes. But if you keep the scalp money, you would not be able to argue against a charge of common theft of the King's treasure. There would never be a hope of acquittal or of pardon. I say it's not worth it."

I give out a low grumble of dissatisfaction, but I say, "Oh, very well, then. We'll give it back. But if any of our pirate acquaintances from last summer's Caribbean cruise get wind of this, I shall be mortified. Drummed out of the Brotherhood, as it were."

"If any of them remain yet unhanged, Miss, we shall certainly endeavor to keep it from them."

"Good, then let's set up another parley with Captain Allen. Go see him, please, and take a bottle of wine and present it with my compliments and request that he join me for lunch at my table here. If you could whip up something special from our stores, Higgins, I would greatly appreciate it. Oh, and my blue dress, if you would."

The arrangements are made, Captain Allen's temporary parole is taken, the two boats are brought together, and he hops over onto the
Belle
and is escorted up to my table by First Mate Higgins.

I, of course, am not there to see it. When I am told he has been seated, I give my chest one more dab with the powder puff, I assume the Lawson Peabody Look—eyes hooded, chin up as if balancing an invisible book on my head, lips together, teeth apart—and I go up to join him. He has seen me as Wah-chinga, Indian Maiden, and then as Lieutenant Faber, Naval Officer, but now he shall see me as Jacky Faber, Fine Lady, or at least the best I can manage in that regard.

I am taken up to the table on Higgins's arm, and Captain Allen, resplendent in his regimental jacket of scarlet, rises. He looks me over and pulls out my chair. I smooth the back of my dress and sit down.

"Thank you for inviting me, Miss Faber. You could not look lovelier."

"It is my pleasure, Captain Allen. However, before I take refreshment, I must insist that you take off your fine coat, as it is much too warm today. You can see that I, myself, am dressed in a manner quite cool."

My blue dress, which I had first tailored on the mizzen top of HMS
Dolphin
and which has since gone through many alterations by female hands much more expert than mine, does not cover much of my upper body. It leaves my shoulders bare, while it pushes up certain parts of me in a hopefully appealing way. Higgins has arranged my hair in an upswept French fashion, which, I think, makes me look older than my years.

Nodding, Allen, whose gaze is fixed on my bodice, strips off his jacket, drapes it over the back of his chair, and sits back down.

"Thank you, Higgins," I say, as he fills my glass. When he is done, I lift it and say, "A glass of wine with you, Sir. Shall we not toast to love and friendship?"

"Aye, that we most certainly shall," he says, clinking his glass to mine and looking into my eyes with a good deal of heat. "But I cannot think that you invited me over just for that."

"Oh, no, Captain, I do not take you for a fool. We shall parley, you and I, to seek a solution to your unfortunate situation, but we will do that after we dine. Higgins has prepared some very special treats."

"Very well, Jacky, you may try to soften me up with some wine and then we shall talk—oh, and may I call you Jacky? I once did, you know. What was it, all of ... yesterday?"

"Yes, you may, Richard, as we are of similar rank."

"What? A captain surely outranks a mere lieutenant?"

"He does in the Army, Sir, where there is the rank of major, and lieutenant colonel to which a mere lieutenant can aspire before he reaches the Flag rank of colonel. But in the Navy there is only lieutenant and captain, as in captain of a ship. Many have spent long, honorable careers as lieutenants. I am proud to have been named one."

He gazes at me without expression. "You know, when you told me of your past life yesterday, I didn't believe half of it. Now I am starting to change my mind."

"Put thoughts of any kind out of your mind, Richard, and enjoy what Higgins is setting before us. See, those are rare mushrooms that Katy Deere has gathered—oh, no, they are quite safe, as we have already eaten many of them. And that is the finest of sturgeon roe over there—caviar, and right here in the American wilderness! Can you imagine? And Crow Jane tells me that soon we shall be in the land of the crawdads, little creatures that look like miniature lobsters and taste divine." I clasp my hands together in rapture. "Is not the world a place of wonder, Richard?"

"Oh, indeed, Jacky," he says, his eyes never leaving either me or my own eyes. "It is that."

The dinner finished and the table cleared, we turn to business.

"Captain Allen, we cannot have your men suffering confinement any longer. It is cruel, and I won't have it. I must have your parole."

"What you mean is you don't want your crew rowing us downriver while we sit at our leisure. Do you mind if I smoke?" He pulls out a cheroot and holds it up for Higgins to light. "Thank you, Higgins. If you ever lack for employment, please look me up."

"What I mean is, we must come to an agreement." I lean forward, over the table. "In return for your parole, your promise not to harm us, I will give you back the money, provided you do not use it to buy scalps."

"Very nice move there, my dear, that bit with your chest," he says, lifting his eyes from my chest and puffing on his cigar. "But we'll need a little more than that. Will you give us back our weapons?"