THE GUN KETCH

'Good Christ!' Gatacre exploded. 'You're about as useless as teats on a man! How long you been in these waters, puppy?'

'Year and a bit, sir, I…' Coltrop shuddered, too scared of Gatacre's uncertain amount of seniority to continue his smug bluster. Gatacre wore navy blue, but it was a civilian suit, more apt on some merchant master, but for a military cocked hat big as a watermelon. The buttons were plain pewter, though, so what was he if not some civilian official from the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, a secretary who'd report back about Lieutenant Coltrop and tell them… Lord!

'And you've leashed yourself to the Turks Passage?' Gatacre went on indignantly. 'Never explored the Caicos? Or are they too far from your bottle'r your table? The brothels that good in the Salt Isles, are they, sir?'

'Sir, I…!'

'Ever been down to the Ambergris Cays? As far north as Drum Point on East Caicos? Took a peek into Windward-Going-Through, have you?' Gatacre sneered. 'God, I've never heard of a Sea Officer with an active commission so unaspiring, nor so unambitious!'

'I have been to Fort George Cay, sir, to deliver supplies as needed, sir,' Coltrop quavered out 'I have put into the Ambergris Cays when the whales run, sir. But this is the wrong season. There's no one there now! The whalers won't be back…'

'A fine place for pirates, then,' Lewrie commented. 'An empty whaling station. Deep water for their ships. Huts for shelter, try-pots and fuel for cooking in place. Water. A tall headland or two. That's where we'll search first. Alacrity to Big Ambergris, and your cutter to Little Ambergris, where the depth is too shoal. What does your cutter draw, Mister Coltrop?'

'IJh… seven feet, sir. But, sir, if there are pirates, then surely my place is in Turks Passage to defend. To accompany you, I must leave shipping open to God knows what.'

'By whom, Mister Coltrop?' Lewrie fumed. 'Tripolitan galleys? Levant corsairs? There's one band of pirates we know of, and if we put pressure on them with our search, we halt their activities. Did you not tell me your patrols are irregularly timed, so you may, how did you put it, 'sow confusion and doubt'? Well then, let's go sow some doubt and confusion! And capture ourselves some pirates.'

'Sir, I…' Coltrop began to protest, then swallowed his outburst. 'Of course, sir. I am certain the Aemilia will be of inestimable assistance to you, sir.' Coltrop turned suddenly sweet, and got his pride of old back a bit too quickly for Lewrie's taste. 'Do you know she is named for our commodore's daughter, sir? In her honour?'

So that's who his powerful 'sea daddy' is, Lewrie thought as he studied Coltrop's regained smugness with distaste!

'Commodore Garvey will be most pleased that she will figure in your… uhm, adventure, Captain Lewrie,' Coltrop grinned.

'Then you'd better take care she doesn't trip on a shoal and wet herself, mustn't you, Mister Coltrop?' Lewrie smiled back at him. 'Go board your Aemilia and set course for Little Ambergris while we still have some light. And mind your soundings.'

'Aye, aye, sir.'

'Poxy bastard!' Gatacre grumbled once he was gone. 'I've never seen such a worthless, idle…'

'A well-connected bastard, though,' Lewrie grunted. 'I can't wait to read his report on the action. Damme, Mister Gatacre, if we don't find these pirates, if they take a ship under our noses, he'll have my nutmegs on a silver tray!'

'Best do what all the good captains do, then, sir,' Gatacre chuckled as they walked forward to go on deck. 'Plaster a confident grin on yer phiz an' dare anybody to gainsay ya!'

Chapter 5

Of course, nothing went that easily. There were signs of recent human habitation on Big Ambergris, much like the abandoned camp on West Caicos. Their suppositions the pirates were still around were fulfilled, but just where they had gone remained a mystery.

For another week, Alacrity and Aemilia prowled in company, back up Turks Passage toward Drum Point on East Caicos, along the spectacular coral reefs by Lorimers Point and Joe Grant's Cay, which sheltered the mouth of the Windward-Going-Through channel between East and Middle Caicos Islands. The bluffs were high enough behind the reefs to provide excellent watch-posts. When they went ashore in luggers and ship's boats they found sources of water. There were deeps very close inshore where looted ships could be scuttled to avoid detection. But no pirate band.

Lewrie was getting extremely frustrated. It was not the sneer on Lieutenant Coltrop's face which upset him, though that irked him every time he had reason to talk with him. He realized he had made the pirates, and their destruction, a personal quest. There was Commodore Garvey to please, to impress with what he could accomplish. And capturing or destroying these buccaneers would be a way to expunge the chagrin he felt about his bargain with the American Captain Grant, turning a blind eye to his violation of the Navigation Acts. And, in that first flush of exultation he'd shown to his crew after sinking those luggers, he'd overstepped himself and promised they would get the rest. Now, if he did not, he felt the men would lose confidence in his abilities, and his captaincy of Alacrity would become a drudgery instead of a delight.

Being someone else's junior officer felt so damned good, Alan told himself in the echoing privacy of his cabins aft. Without Caroline aboard, he was severely limited now in whom he could confide. Oh, he could dine in bags of people and share jests with them as the most genial of hosts. But it wasn't the same as being able to unburden his cares and worries on someone else.

But then, that's why they pay me five grand shillings a day!

'Sir!' Lieutenant Ballard said, coming to Alan's seat on the taffrail signal-flag lockers. 'Aemilia has put about and is bearing down on us.'

Lewrie rose and made his way forward. It had just gone five bells of the second dog-watch, Evening Quarters had been stood, and the hands had eaten and were now entertaining themselves in the cool afterglow of sunset. Mr. Midshipman Shipley and his mostly hapless colleague, Mr. Midshipman Joyce, were doinghornpipes in the waist for the amusement of the people forrud, part of the larboard watch's price as losers at drills that afternoon.

'Was he not to peek into Highas Cay and Bottle Creek, sir?' Ballard inquired. 'Perhaps he's seen something at last.'

Lewrie snapped a quick look at Ballard to see if his 'at last' was a subtle condemnation, but Ballard had a telescope to his eye and was intent upon the ghostly shape of Aemilia as she sailed back east to join them.

'He was, Mister Ballard. As you say, perhaps this hopeless search of ours will be rewarded… at last,' Lewrie could not help rejoining.

'They're somewhere out here still, sir,' Ballard said quickly. 'I know you're correct about that. It's just the 'where,' or how long they might remain if they fear a new, more active warship is stationed in the Turks and Caicos. I'd hate for them to run before we nab 'em.'

'Thankee, Mister Ballard,' Lewrie relented with a shy grin. 'I was beginning to fear I was the only one who wished to continue this chasing of wild geese. Chasing shadows, more like.'

'Most deadly shadows, sir,' Ballard intoned with a sober nod, but with a quirky little grin of his own. 'Should Lieutenant Col-trop be the bearer of glad tidings, do you wish the taffrail lanterns lit, sir? Or should we proceed darkened?'

'There's a ninety-foot-tall bluff at the extreme west end of Middle Caicos, just by Highas Cay,' Lewrie pondered. 'Do not give a possible watcher anything to bite on. And alter course to seaward. If Aemilia has news for us, he'll come to us out there. I only wish there was a way to signal him without a fuzee to stay dark, himself.'

'Here, sir!' Coltrop jabbed exultantly at the chart. 'Just under the headland overlooking Highas Cay and the narrow channel between Middle and North Caicos. There were cook fires! I saw the smoke, sir!'