Bloody Jack: Being an Account of the Curious Adventures of Mary 'Jacky' Faber, Ship's Boy

My poor dear Marines have been replaced with a trio of older men. Major Piggott, the commander of the Marine unit, apparently wasn't pleased with the level of discipline that the former dear boys were able to maintain in the force of my charms. No matter. I found that two of my new grizzled veterans have daughters of my age, so...

I am still entered on the books as a midshipman, since the senior officers consider it a great joke. When I had previously thought the Captain might be mad, I was mistaken. Mr. Lawrence tells me the Captain is the sort to quickly take offense and is a dead shot and has fought several duels already and left the other fellow the worse off for it, so no one is liable to be cheeky, to his face at least. 'Plus,' says Mr. Lawrence, 'you've made him rich beyond all dreams of avarice, so he don't care.'

I, however, do not consider my rank a joke. I wheedled Deacon Dunne into writing out my commission all fair and legal-like and he goes along with it, what could it hurt? The Deacon likes the idea of the prize money, too. It'll buy him a nice little parish up-country and he'll never have to go to sea again. I put the commission in my sea chest with my other things. Davy, on that first night when he brought his news, also brought me back my shiv and my other clothes, and so all I own is now in the trunk. Except for my share of the prize.

I get visited by the officers, but neither the midshipmen nor the sailors are allowed to see me. Especially not Jaimy. Or so they think.

Late at night, when the moon is bright and when the Marine is off to sleep, Jaimy creeps to my grating and through it we whisper. I have found chinks in the wall for handholds and toeholds, and I can climb up high enough so that I can leap up and grab the grating. Hanging there I slowly chin myself up, and through the bars we can bring our lips together for a moment till my arms start to quiver and weaken and I have to drop back down.

We left Charleston a week ago and the winds have been generally fair and so we're one day from Boston. I, who have been kept locked down for the entire time since we refloated the Dolphin, have finally been invited to dine with the officers and midshipmen. I suppose they figure I can't do too much damage now.

Now that I have a brush, I have experimented with my hair, which comes down to below my shoulders, and I believe that tonight, my last night on the Dolphin, I will wear it swept up, as that makes me look a little bit older. I have an old broken piece of comb to hold it in place. There. Like that. And tonight I shall wear my blue dress for the first time. I start to make myself ready.

Outside my window, I hear the boys playing in the rigging and it fair breaks my heart to think of my younger self all carefree in the foretop and how I'll never be there again. It isn't the Brotherhood up there, now, though, it's new boys, brought on in Charleston. Some more will be picked up in Boston to fill our spaces. Good luck to them. I've certainly had my share of luck.

I hear other things from my window, too. Apparently, I have become Our Tacky, the Darling of the Ship, and Jaimy is in for some abuse ... 'Lazing aroun in the mizzentop wi our little Jacky, 'e was, the dog...' I can imagine the shaking of heads and the black looks from the suddenly pious bunch of scoundrels. 'And in the same hammock, mind you, for two years ... Little hound, 'e is...'

Liam has come by and given me a concertina, the one owned by Grant. 'It's of no use to him now, Jacky, and I know he'd want you to have it. He loved the music and I know you do, too. You're a rare one, Jacky. I'll wave when you go off the ship tomorrow, lass, but I'll say good-bye now.'

I put on the dress and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is up and my sandals are on my feet. I've tied my midshipman's neckerchief around my throat, and with the ends hanging down in back it covers up the welt across my neck and looks right elegant, and hey, I'm a middie, too.

The dress fits perfectly, as well it should, since I've had it on and off a dozen times adjusting the fit. The skirt hangs nicely, not too full, and the middle fits good and snug around my ribs, and my chest sits up all jaunty in the top part.

There's one bell in the second dog watch and a knock on the door. It's time for dinner.

I resolve to be merry.

They are all at table when I enter, and they all rise. I rather like that. Or most rise, anyway. Some of the midshipmen almost faint back into their seats. I can see they've already been into the wine as their faces are flushed. Mr. Lawrence casts his eyes to the ceiling and smiles slightly and pulls out a chair for me. I'm seated between him and Major Piggott. Always a Marine by my side.

Mr. Lawrence is the senior officer present. The First Mate is off dining with the Captain. It would be asking too much for them to be here.

I'm seated across from Jaimy. I hope he's pleased with how I look. I think he is. He does look a bit stunned, though, but then, they all do.

'Good evening, gentlemen,' I purrs. 'I thank you very much for your kind invitation.' I have been coached by the Deacon.

'It is our pleasure, Miss Faber,' says Mr. Lawrence. 'Steward, a glass of wine for the lady. Oh, and a shawl for Miss Faber, too. There's one in my cabin.'

The steward pours out the wine in a crystal goblet and I pick it up.

'Mr. Fletcher, will you give us the King?' says Mr. Lawrence.

They all stand and pick up their glasses and hold them out in front of them. I go to stand, too, but Mr. Lawrence very gently puts his fingertip on my shoulder to keep me down.

'The King!' Jaimy manages to get out and they all repeat, 'The King!' Then they drink down their wine and sit and go back to staring at me.

Mr. Lawrence turns to me. 'I perceive that you might be a bit chilly, my dear, as this is, after all, the coast of New England and not the sunny shores of the Caribbean. And I know that our midshipmen share my concern to the degree that they will be unable to speak or eat until you are made more comfortable. Isn't that true, gentlemen?'

Less than enthusiastic murmurs of assent, but the shawl is brought nonetheless and placed around my shoulders. It is a very nice shawl and I thank Mr. Lawrence for his kindness.

'It is a present for my wife. Do you think she will like it?'

I reply that I'm sure she will, Sir, but think to myself that he'd best not tell her that Bloody Jack Faber was first to wear it, or his homecoming might not be all he hopes it to be.

I lift my glass to my lips and gaze across the rim at Jaimy, and as he looks at me my eyes start brimming up 'cause I know the ship's leavin' right after they drop me off tomorrow and I thought maybe they'd stay around for at least a little while, but no, and everything else in the room falls away and...

But then they bring in the food and we fall to.

It is a most glorious dinner, and at the end there is laughter and talk and toasts all around, and when it is time for me to leave, I stand and lift my glass and say, 'A toast to the newest member of your company, James Emerson Fletcher, by the grace of God, Midshipman of the Line of Battle, His Majesty's Royal Navy!'

Cries of Hear, hear, and the toast is drunk, and then my eyes start to fill up again and my lip starts quiverin', and Mr. Lawrence notices, so he stands and raises his glass and says, 'To Jacky Faber, the fairest midshipman and saltiest sailor ever to grace the decks of the Dolphin!'

Cheers, and then my Marine leads me back to the brig.

Jaimy comes to me later, after all are asleep. I rise from my bed and go to the grating and reach up my hand and we whisper far into the night.

At last he must go on watch and there's nothing more to say.