Port Royal, Jamaica

[Rats]

As Abbi's door flew open, both young and old were caught by surprise.

“Well now,” announced the young hoodlum as he pompously entered the kitchen. “I think my lads and me will be have some breakfast!”

As Bess ran to the other door, she was suddenly caught in a bear hung by a fat, and smelly troll of a man.

“There now dearie!” Smiled the troll, as he snuggled his unshaven chin into her cheek. “Don’t be leaving so soon!”

The three young hoodlums were shabbily dressed and armed with a haphazard assortment of cudgel and blade.

“So let’s have it old mum!” smiled the tough. “Food first…”

“Then maybe some dessert!” added the troll, as he again snuggled into young Bess.

[Dan Reid]

MacCraige leaned back as he looked upwards towards the deck of the 'Archangel'.

"Ahoy the ship!" he called then waited for a reply from above.

[Hazzards, M.]

Hail was noted as young Mr. Merriweather nodded to the indivdual below on the docks. He hurried off to find the second officer.

"Beggin yer pardon Mr. Hazzards, there be a gentleman on the wharf that wishes a word," the young boy reported.

Hazzards nodded his thanks and made his way over to the railing close to the entryway.

"Ahoy and good evening," he shouted. "Now that ye have my attention, how may the Archangel be of service to ye?"

[Dan Reid]

"Ah, this be the 'Archangel' then I be findin' the right place. I be Cap'n Hamish MacCraige of the 'Mist Reiver' permission ta come aboard an' speak wit' yer master." MacCraige called back with a wave. "I be havin' a business proposition for 'im."

[Hazzards, M.]

“Well Captain MacCraige, honored to make yer acquaintance. Matthew Hazzards I am called, second officer here. As to our Master, there be Mr. Straw but if tis business ye wish to discuss, it would be with our commander. Come aboard Sir, and I shall make yer presence known to Captain Sterling,” the second lieutenant replied. The Bosun’s pipe sounded the Still, calling all hands to attention to show respect to the boarding captain of the 'Mist Reiver'.

Hazzards turned quickly to the elder Mr. Merriweather. "I believe Mr. March be with the captain at the moment. Let them know we have company."

[Andrew March]

Heads turned, all save one, as bashfull rapping sounded upon the cabin door. March began toward the exit, only to be outdistanced by the captain's steward. As door was opened, the oldest of the midshipmen popped his head inside, searched out March, tugged at his hat, and made his report.

"Thank you Mr. Merriweather," March replied. The first officer glanced first at the prone figure of his superior, then to doctor, who gave subtle shake of head in disagreement. "I will come on deck to..."

"Ask Captain MacCraige to join me here," Sterling said wearily sitting up. "Give me a few minutes to make myself presentable. Go along Mr. Merriweather." He waited as the middy made all the proper responses then watched the door to his quarters shut. He descended from the crib, Reiley scurrying forward to assist. "Do not look at me like that doctor. Since ye be so intent on moving me some where of more comfort, I may as well start getting ready for the move now...my banyan Mr. Symms, if ye please. Surely Captain MacCraige has come at an opportune moment, for I would have been content to remain exactly where I was, and none of ye would have convinced me to move otherwise."

March looked away, rolling his eyes.

[Capt. Sterling]

"I could do with a drink, Doctor," Sterling mentioned as he took his seat at his desk. Reiley was about to object when Symms quickly placed an empty glass next to the captain's elbow and went for the decanter. "To ease the pain," Sterling admitted. He looked across the small space as once again a knock sounded and door was looked to.

The other captain made his way inside. Sterling nodded but did not rise from his place.

"Welcome Captain MacCraige to the Archangel. I am John Sterling. My first lieutenant Andrew March, my steward Josiah Symms and our surgeon Dr. Reiley," he said, making introductions. "Would ye care for a drink? Mr. Symms," he added, taking a sip of his own port. He was forced to hold his expression, fighting hard not to cringe as the drink burned his mouth and throat. It would dull everything soon enough. He sat back, offering a second seat to MacCraige, then gently turned the glass of port in his hands. "How may I and my crew be of service to ye?"

[Nimrod Pinon]

Pinon walked slowly back toward the town, finally coming to rest himself inside the Three Crownes for a drink. He laughed to himself about the cur and his ugly little dog. Certainly did not the beast judge folks better than the master? He ordered himself a pint of ale and listened raptly as the meal for the evening was grunted to him by one of the kitchen boys. He decided to make a point of going back to visit the young bar maid he had met earlier in the day. He looked about the room as his drink was set before him. He wondered how long he would possibly be observed and actually felt himself shrug at the idea. He did not care. As soon as the moment was right, he would strike and no one would be able to stop him. The powers that be, who supported him in all that he did, would make sure of that.

[Lilith]

Lilith lingered upon the deck of the Dutch sloop as the last man was lead back to the Tartarus in chains.

For a moment, she smiled to herself with vast amount of self-pride. It wasn’t every day a ship such as this fell into her hands unexcitingly. Her journey to Jamaica was becoming very fruitful.

Lilith looked over the hoard of wealth which now laid upon the deck of the Dutch Sloop. She was eager to indulge herself in the windfall that stood before her. It was more than she expected! She quickly dug her hand into the chest filled with silks and trims.

“If’n yer pardon, Mistress.” A low deep voice came from behind her. It could barely be heard over her crew’s excitement. “What shall we be do’n with the Captain?”

It was the voice of her first mate, Twiggs. Why was he always spoiling things? She dropped the silks from her hands and looked over her shoulder at him. “I shall leave him in your hands Twiggs, but make sure you leave no trace of what you do.” She said adding a wicked smile.

She glanced back at the Captain. Their eyes met for a brief moment. It was obvious that he was a man of very little courage. He did not bleed for the lives of his men, only for his own.

“After you are done with him, take this below our decks. I will send Lodi to check upon it later.” She stood and looked back at the sloop. “And Twiggs,” She added looking at the Dutch Flag. “Burn the sloop.”

[Dan Reid]

"I'll be thankin' ye kindly for that drink" MacCraige replied taking the proffered glass from the steward. "G'day to all ye gentlemen" he said nodding to each man in turn. He then turned back towards Capt. Sterling.

"Thank ye kindly fer yer hospitality, Cap'n. I be Hamish MacCraige, cap'n o' the Mist Reiver. She be that sad ship what be washed upon the beach...hehe. I was told by one Lilly McKinney that you be a right fair judge o' men so I came ta' ask yer assitance wit' launchin' me poor bonny lass back inta' the drink. Most o' me crew perished in the storm or was killed by them bloody spaniards and I be short handed. I be wonderin to hire yer lads ta help tow her back inta the water and pull her up ere near th' dock." at that moment MacCraige noticed the pained look upon the other man's face.

"Wait a momen' ere. You be that lad what I seen hoisted aboard a bit earlier ain't ye? Man, ye got no business talkin to the likes o' me..ye should be abed. Look, ye can hardly hold yerself up as it is. I'll be leavin' an' come back at a time when ye be feelin' more yerself. Why, I couldna stand meself puttin a man out what is injured. " MacCraige said with some consternation. "Before I be goin' tho, that feller what aided ye to yer ship. That fella all in black. He be trouble, mark my words...me dog didna like 'im at tall an' there be two other fellas what was followin' ye as ye left that stable back yonder. I be comin' ta the docks ta find ye and I seen em good. Best be for watchin' yerself Cap'n. There be a right black wind a blowin' round 'ere. I'll call again after ye've some time ta get back on yer feet an' we be talkin' again. Just fer me own curiosity so to speak, I think I be keepin' a weather eye about for a while. I be passin' on anythin' I hear wit' yer name, or yer fine crew." MacCraige raised to leave from his chair and bowed to Cap'n Sterling. "I hope ye be feelin' better and a good day to ya" he turned to leave.

[Cheeky Actress]

“I’ve come to see Prof. Tribly please.” She muttered slowly. The servant showed her into the hall. Soon Lilly was over come with the stench of sulpher and quickly placed her hand to her mouth. “Oh dear God in Heaven…” She muttered as she once again made sick upon the hallway floor.

Lilly clutched her stomach and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, as the servant boy quickly looked frantic. He was about to call for his master, but saw that Mistress Lilly look pale. “Let me help thee, Mistress” he said guiding her to a small chair in the hallway, away from her sick and the odor most foul.

“Please tell your Master I am truly sorry for the…” She could only point to the evidence on the floor. The servant boy just looked half-bewildered and half upset. This woman had only been in the household less than five seconds and she had all ready added to his workload for the day.

“I’ve come to see the Professor. Tell him I seek his advice and anything he can give me for my discomfort.” With a nod, the servant boy stood and was about to knock upon the door to the Professor’s study when the doors suddenly flew open wide. There in the middle of the doorway stood a queer little man giving Mistress Lilly the most unbecoming look of displeasure.

[Ransom]

I heard Triby curse and followed him out into the hall. To my surprise and dismay, I saw the actress sitting in a chair, while the smell of vomit filled the air. Trilby glared at the woman, who seemed pale.

I stepped forward and peered at her. "What's wrong this time? Too much drink? Another battle with your inn furniture?"

Trilby waved me away. "Can't yea see the poor woman is sick? What ails yea, miss? Yea look right peeked, and no mistake." He waved to Souris. "Get me a beaker of port. Quick now." He turned to me. "Keep an eye on her. I need tae fetch something from mae study."

I nodded, then turned my attention back to the actress. "Come now, Miss Lilly, no theatrics. The professor is right. You look like a dead trout. What ails you? What happened to Dr. Reily and why didn't you go to him?"

Trilby returned about the same time Souris brought the wine. Trilby crumbled some powder into it, then stirred it with his finger. "Before I give this tae yea, better tell mae why you're spewing all over mae clean floor." Then he turned to me. "Go outside and look above mae front door."

"Why?"

He snorted. " 'Cause some blasted fool has nailed a doctor's billboard over it, since so far today I've nursed a drunken gypsy, had a she-devil arrive for lunch, and now this...woman has shown up sicker than a dog and wanting mae comfort. I'm nae a doctor, so who is sending these people tae mae house?" By the end of this speech, he was shouting and waving an arm.

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

Lady Violet could not help but stare when the strange man entered the Three Crowns. She observed that with his black manner of dress, and sinister aspect, he looked the very incarnation of death. A little shiver went up her spine, and she inwardly chastised herself for the moment of weakness. Sugar, rather than bark at the newcomer, growled once, then shrunk further into the protection of her mistress's arm.

When the tapster came over to see if Lady Violet required anything else, she motioned for him to bend down so she could whisper in his ear. "Who is that man all dressed in black?"

The tapster looked up, then quickly down again. "I don't rightly know, Your Ladyship. He's never been in the Crown before. Looks a right blackguard, though." Then he straightened. "Would Your Ladyship be needing anything else?"

"No. I beleive we will return to the Royal Grace." She pulled sufficient coin from her purse to pay the man, then stood. "Come, Children." And motioned for her three servants to gulp down the last of their small beer, which they did.

As she swept out the door, Lady Violet made a point of not looking in the strange man's direction. Sugar started to growl, but Lady Violet clamped her hand over the dog's jaws, thinking this was not the best time for a show of bravado.

[Capt. Sterling]

“Please sit down Captain MacCraige. At least finish yer drink. As far as my health … tis nothing more than a few drinks too many, I assure you,” Sterling lied, then shot a warning glance at the doctor. Reiley could only hold his tongue for the moment and look away. Both March and Symms looked no different than when MacCraige first entered. Sterling took a sip of his own drink.

“I thank ye sir, for your kind consideration regarding the gentleman that came to mine and Mr. March’s assistance. I am unfamiliar with him and will take ye and yer dog’s word of caution to heart,” he added, chuckling slightly to himself. “As to the other two, if I am correct in my reckoning, I am more than acquainted with them both, being my wife’s people. They have been following me since the little …ahem…incident of a few weeks past. If the man in black is of any serious concern, I am of sound belief that those two can handle him well enough.

Now, as to yer ship. It would be my pleasure to be of assistance to ye, if a tow is all ye will be needing. I can also send along some extra hands for repairs if need be. The only thing I ask is that ye allow me the time to see to provisions on board the ‘Angel, as we are scheduled to sail within a fortnight. Once loaded and prepared to sail, making the time to see to the Mist Reiver, would certainly be in keeping with our agenda.

As to payment, seems to me sir, that ye have had yer share of trouble as of the moment, consider the Archangel’s assistance as one fellow sailor extending a hand of friendship to another that be in need. Mayhaps some day ye will be just as willing to return a favor when required.

If that appeals to ye, then Mr. March or Mr. Hazzards, my second lieutenant, will be the one ye wish to speak to. I will be unavailable for the next few days as I am…a… going to head inland for a bit more time with my new bride before I make the journey to London.”

[Cheeky Actress]

"Come now, Miss Lilly, no theatrics. The professor is right. You look like a dead trout. What ails you? What happened to Dr. Reily and why didn't you go to him?"

Lilly managed to look up at Ransom, giving her a leery-eyed look, as the Professor reentered the room. “I was on my way to the harbor but I could not make it. I have been feeling poorly since late last night. As for Dr. Reiley, he is now aboard the Archangel servicing Captain Sterling, I am sure.”

Lilly took a deep breath as she tried to regain herself. “Professor, do me the kindness of letting me rest here for a moment or two. You are most kind.” She said whispering as she took the goblet from the Professor’s hands.

As Lilly sipped the concoction she suddenly had a feeling of dread come over her. Ransom looked puzzled as she watched Lilly quickly stand up. “I …I must get going. I am sorry for such …I mean, I did not mean to …Please forgive me.” And quickly dashed out the door.

[Professor Angus Trilby]

With the empty wine cup in his hand, Trilby watched the woman rush out the door. He turned to Ransom. "Now, what do yea ken that was all about?"

"Hell if I know. The woman is unstable at the best of times."

Trilby shook his head, and chortled. "Well, she'll nae get far. I'd hae warned her if she hadn't bolted. That was powder of tin I put in that port. It's a purge, for ridding the body of foul humors. The first place she'll be heading before too long, will be a privy."

[Nimrod Pinon]

Pinon savored his drink, the ale was far better than any he had sampled elsewhere in town. A second was ordered and appreciated, as he watched old Albert’s stout wife and her bothersome mongrel. He sat, lost in thought, interesting how a woman without children of her own relates to her servants. He questioned, for all of a minute, how they felt about that, then dismissed it entirely. A minute was more than sufficient time to spend on a matter he simple did not give a damn about.

He watched her make inquiry of the tapster, the other man’s eyes resting far too long on Pinon, giving him and Cunningham away. Far too obvious, much like the two men following the Archangel's captain earlier. He exhaled his disappointment. Was no one subtle in their actions any more? He smiled to himself, picturing himself sitting, like the demon others believed him to be, hunched over his drink, enshrouded in a cloak, his hat pulled far too low for meddling eyes to see him, even too low for him to see those that would be snooping. He laughed. He made certain he was sitting up properly, holding himself in the carriage he had perfected with ease and grace. When the Cunningham woman chose to vacate the inn, taking her entourage in tow, he decided to stay for dinner. “Now that the atmosphere has cleared,” he thought. With a meal ordered as well as a third drink, he asked about lodging and was allotted one of the better rooms upstairs. He would purchase some extra candles from his host after his dinner was consumed. Tonight he would not mind his beeswax, he had very important paperwork to attend to.

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Pinon cursed his poorly made watch. Someday surely someone would create something far more accurate! After all, was not time the most important commodity people possessed? He sat, tossing a worn quill upon a pile of letters. Lighting a new candle from off the old, he snuffed the spent one, admiring the ghostly wisps of smoke that bowed then arched in spirals, upward into the darkness. He ran his focus one last time over his work, how different and yet how unique. For each note, written in an entirely different hand, no one ever being the wiser to the fact that the author of all was one and the same, the language, the penmanship, even the inks use. Yet, each rambled on in lengthy details concerning their inflammatory charges regarding one and the same man. All that was left was to affix the proper seals accordingly and wait. Pinon was not fond of waiting, even though he knew it was a necessary step. He carefully collected the papers and tucked them wisely away in a small chest and locked it. Even checking twice to the security of his work before he stretched and sauntered down stairs. Far less somber, his coat left behind in his room, his blue eyes roamed over the crowd that had gathered for the evening. One lass in particular caught his eye and he made the opportunity to introduce himself. Pinon then took the proper amount of time to win her over and escort her upstairs. As her treasures were soon forsaken by linen garments, he placed himself inside her and now, made certain that every moment counted at least for him.

[Aurore Devareaux]

One Eyed corvid retraced path of burnished mahogany length so many times traversed in the past before door's change of position gave halt. One visual portal honed on arrival briefly with a ruffling of soot hued plumage, then to something on table's surface that seemed due closer inspection. Andre' paused ledger perusal, index finger pinning entry with accusatory manner. Tallow glow laid golden tincture to feral features and text was forgotten as Christophe navigated chamber's defused lighting. A whisper of soft step caressed wool weave under sole, dissipating with movement cessation.

"All is in order..."

"Bien...The change of location is known?"

"Oui."

"And the shipment is as was required?"

"Oui, word was relayed by proper contacts."

Andre' nodded, pursing lips in reaction to some secretive contemplation; allowing silence hang the air as heavily as the patchouli that perfumed it.

"And my brother?" came next query.

Corvid resumed sentry pace....

[Andrew March]

March watched as his captain stood, cautiously moving from his seat. Sterling thanked the other captain for joining him in a drink and then relinguished his place to March to finish covering any necessary details with MacCraige. With one eye wary of Sterling's movements about the further end of the cabin, March listened to what the fellow Scottsman had to say, and yet his thoughts centered on the ill man who waited as Symms gathered some personal items together and then helped Sterling replace the worn banyan with his plain brown coat. It was several moments before Sterling, hat in hand, leaned down to March's ear and relayed that he would be leaving for the Three Crownes for the night. If he were needed, March would know where to find him.

"Excuse me Captain MacCraige," March said. "I will continue our conversation in a minute or two. In the mean time, please allow Mr. Symms to refill yer glass." He stood and walked with Sterling and Reiley to the ship's entryway.

[Capt. Sterling]

“Promise me ye’ll take it easy,” March said as the three came to the gangplank‘s edge. Sterling’s brow instantly clouded over. “I be asking ye as a friend, John,” March continued.

“Yes of course,” Sterling conceded. March offered his hand and Sterling shook it.

“I’ll make my way over to join ye for breakfast in the morning,” March said, then with a bow, returned to Sterling’s quarters and Captain MacCraige.

“Come along doctor,” Sterling grumbled as he crossed the gangplank. Reiley ran after him, then matched Sterling’s stride until they neared the end of the wharf. Increasing his pace, Reiley then moved ahead of his patient and waved down a sedan chair.

“Get in,” he ordered as the chair and its carriers came to a stop next to him. The cloud resumed its command over the captain’s features, but Reiley was persistent. He opened the door and bowed low. With a greatly exaggerated wave of his arm, he directed Sterling to the inside of the chair.

Sterling’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he silently fumed. Instead, a grin fixed itself to the doctor’s face, spreading broadly as he repeated the large sweep of his arm.

“Ye look a fool, doctor,” Sterling snarled.

“Better to look one then act one. I think your darlin wife would agree, don‘t you?” Reiley replied.

“Leave Aurore out of this,” Sterling, said with a huff, finally entering the sedan chair. He would later allow himself the privilege of an even larger grin, and a quiet chuckle, as the good doctor panted alongside the chair while its carriers jogged quickly through the streets. As the chair halted once more outside The Three Crownes, Sterling was still laughing as he waited for Reiley to catch up. Once inside a room was arranged and the pair made their way upstairs. Sterling tossed the great beaver hat upon the bed as Reiley ordered a simple dinner for the two. The doctor handed over several coins before closing the door and turning to see Sterling once again with a thoroughly annoyed look upon his face.

“Now what?” Reiley asked.

Sterling pointed over his shoulder at the wall behind him. A steady thump, thump, thump of the headboard of the bed in the next room left little to the imagination. “Would have been quieter back on the ‘ Angel,” Sterling commented. He removed his coat and loosened his cravat. “I’ll never get any sleep here,” he insisted.

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Reiley said, a mischievous look in his eye. “Quite the steady rhythm. Actually very boring… I think it will put you right to sleep, captain… bet it will the poor lass that be on her back, as well!” Reiley added with a laugh.

[Aurore Devareaux]

He was unsure of how much time had transpired since chamber had been regained. A faint finger of fading Soliel eeked through cumbersome window dressing, daring to sneak into sanctuary like uninvited guest. The plush of alpaca bed throw gave hint of soft stroke upon bare back as Sabastian rolled to right side, sleep bleared eyes focusing on interloper of light. Fatigue haunted every inch of lithe frame, and the easiest of choices would be to edge back into the slipstream of the Dreamtime.

Easiest was not always for the best.

Crawling to four-poster’s overstuffed border, body was forced from prone to sitting posture; cobwebs of the Netherworlds clinging stubbornly to mental process. Bed was deserted for glazier portal, its' adornments parted minutely to view the outer realm and its' goings on. Time of day was judged and drapery was allowed to fall back into proper placement; near table was gained, its' surface now bare of evidence from former evening. Exotic elixir proffered to absent companion was obtained and protocol of formalities were forfeited with the lower presentation of direct swig.

Sitting heavily in Ransom's once claimed throne, left leg was dangled over ornate carved arm and Beggar Prince contemplated recent Past, Present, near future and beyond...Punctuated by second sampling of decanter. This night's proffering would entail business, though more sleep or pleasure would be more to preference. Heavy sigh was emitted with tinge of disgruntled expression fleeting swarth features.

With reluctant heave, chair was abandoned and armoire achieved. Reaching past velvet dandiments, adornments of coarser textures were taken from hanging depths; fanciful chapeaus passed up for wide brim of plainer designs. The turn of well-hidden lock gave access to man -made thunder and selections were made.

This was ritual of fine tuned machine; repeated with such consistency that it was as symphony of motions. All was laid to exacted placement, then everything secured once again. Finale survey was taken with aloof manner, though appearances oft times lay deception to the unknowing. As fini, traveling pistols returned to coat hibernation and chamber was abandoned to the sound of intricate locks falling home.

Sean Roberts waited ever patient in alley below with equine companions; ears pricking forward as Dauphine emerged into daylights fading clutch on the world.

[Ransom]

After the actress had rushed from his house, Trilby, myself, and Cleopatra asended to the roof top patio. While Trilby poured un-medicated port into etched glass goblets, I walked to the half wall, sat on its tiled crown, and stared down into the street. As usual, it was a chaos of people, smells, animals, and noise - everything from grunting pigs and barking dogs, to vender's calls, and shouted curses. From somewhere futher down the lane came the tinny sound of a harpsicord played by someone needing more pratice. To the west, the sun, in a blaze of orange fire, lay low on the horizon.

I was about to turn away from the scene when a stout woman wearing a flowered hat, and followed by three servants, hurridly crossed the street below me. I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach. "Bloody hell, it's her."

"It's who?" Trilby asked, sitting in the shade of a brightly colored cloth that had temporarily replaced the burned palm fronds.

"Someone I know from England."

"An enemy?" He came to stand next to me.

"Worse. A relative." Then I remembered the letter still in my pocket, which, between seeing Sebastian star-clad, and the strange visit of the actress, I had forgotten.

Trilby peered over the wall. "Who, that old bessom?" He pointed to the hatted woman.

With a resigned sigh, I nodded. "That old bessom happens to be my aunt."

[Dan Reid]

"I be thankin' ye for yer kind offer Cap'n" MacCraige said as the Captain left the room. MacCraige took another drink from the steward and awaited Mr. March's return from seeing his Captain off.

[Cheeky Actress]

The door slammed behind Lilly and she tried to catch her breath. She had almost made it to the harbor before ‘nature’s call’ re-routed her to the nearest public privy. It was bad enough being doubled-over such a place for near a half an hour, but to linger in such a place in the heat of the day nearly made her pass out. As she stumbled down the pathway to the outside ally, her thoughts soon returned to the problem at hand.

“One…three…four…five.” She said counting to herself in whispered tones. “Oh, it cannot be right…Twelfth night, perhaps, but not this.” Soon she saw the Archangel in her view. With a quickened pace, she pushed her way through the crowds until she found herself in front of the grand Ship.

“You there! Gunner!” She shouted to topside as she made her way up the gangplank. “Where be Master March or Mister Hazard?” The Gunner only shrugged his shoulders and pointed towards the Captain’s quarters. “Good, I need to speak with Captain Sterling.” “Now wait one moment, Lass!” Said Gunner quickly blocking her way towards the cabin. “He is in no mood for feminine follies! Besides, he’s not here.”

Lilly looked over the Gunner’s shoulder only to see the other men look at her with suspicion.

“Please do me the honor of announcing me.” With a sniff Gunner looked wide eyed at her. “”I told you woman, he be not here.” Gunner shook his head. “ I’ll be doing night watch…you wait and see!”

As Lilly walked passed the rest of the men she smiled. “Good Day to you all.” She whispered as she passed by. Several of the men smiled broadly.

As the Gunner stood at the door of the Captain’s cabin, he turned to Lilly and sighed. “You best not be bringing troubles to him. He has more than his lot in life.” He pounded

“Remember whom you are speaking to, Gunner Beach.” Hissed Lilly. “Mind your tongue and perhaps I will not tell the Captain where those three bottles of port ended up.” As she forced a grin upon her the door to the cabin opened. There standing somewhat surprised was Simms. “Oh no…not you!”

[Andrew March]

March looked up from the glass he held as he sat opposite Captain MacCraige. He watched as the old steward made his was to the cabin door and opened it.

“Oh no…not you!” Symms snapped.

“Who is it, Mr. Symms?” March demanded. He looked to MacCraige. “Have ye ever had one of those days that ye wished you could put out to sea and never have to touch land again? Ye’ll pardon me a moment,” he said and quickly vacated his chair to see what Symms was on about now.

As March reached the enterance, he felt himself hesistate. Aye, indeed today was one of those days he thought to himself. He seized the steward, who was already bristling and set to pounce, by the shoulder and hauled him back into the cabin then placed himself in the door frame blocking Lilly McKinney's way.

"The captain's not here," March barked.

"I tried tellin 'er that!" Gunner Beach said.