Sea of Grey

'Let's get way on her and make an offing… Sou'east-by-East, for now.'

'Aye aye, sir,' Langlie replied, still looking worried. Lewrie clapped his hands behind his back once more and paced to the railing overlooking the waist, feeling like breaking out into jig-dancing; it had worked, they had pulled it off, and (hopefully!) no one was the wiser! He saw Andrews and the last of the boat crews climbing up to the deck, and went forward to speak to him.

'How did it go, Andrews?'

'Lawd o' Mercy, sah,' Andrews answered, shaking his head sadly, 'I'd forgot how evil dey treat people. Warn't one o' dot Mista Ledyard Beauman's big plantin's, just a drunk overseer t'watch 'em, so I think we got away clean, but you never see such mis'ry. Mamas an' papas come down to de boats t'see 'em away, sah… weepin' and whimp'rin' like dey never see dey children again. But soft, so'z nobody'd hear. Blessin' us fo' gettin' 'em free, no matter what de cost, 'coz de sea can't be no worse'n bein' field hands dey whole lives. Tellin' 'em, 'Don't worry 'bout us, we'll lie good,' an' swearin' nobody'll talk true. Dey pick names outen a hat fo' de ones t'come away with us, sah. I tell 'em… dey be earnin' money good as a white sailor, maybe dey come back some day an' buy dey brother's or sister's freedom, too, buy dey mamas and papas out. You an' me know dey most-like can't, but… slaves live on hopes, like waitin' fo' de Second Comin'.'

' 'Next year in Jerusalem,' ' Lewrie muttered. To Andrews's puzzled look, he explained, 'What the Jews say, for better times coming.'

'Yessah,' Andrews replied with a shrug. 'Good.'

Langlie had gotten Proteus moving, at last, the steady Nor'east Trades now coming up her stern as he directed the crew to wear her off the wind, before rounding up on larboard tack to the Sou'east.

'Somethin' odd ashore, though, sah,' Andrews continued.

'Someone see you?' Lewrie almost blanched in alarm.

'Nossah, some thing,' Andrews said, sending a premonitory shiver up Lewrie's back. 'Ya know dey's seals in dese waters, sah. Dey's been hunted almos' out, but dey's some still about?'

'Seals?' Lewrie exclaimed, feeling fit to burst with fey dread of the old pagan cess that seemed to follow him, from HMS Jester to a new frigate, a benign and benevolent sea god's 'protection.'

'Dey started barkin' and splashin', an' I thought ever'body was gonna die o' fright 'til we saw what dey was, sah.' Andrews chuckled. 'Swam out with us, dey did, rollin' an' snortin' so close, dey made it hard t'keep de stroke fo' de oarsmen. Leadin' us, sah, out to de deep water. Stayed with us almos' right to de side, sah, den disappeared.'

Lewrie dashed to the landward, the larboard side, to peer out almost anxiously for a glimpse of them, but the night was black and the sea was ebon, with only tropic starlight to gleam off whitecaps and horses as the deep ocean waves met the shore, and the rebounding echoes of those that had crashed on the beaches hours before.

There! he thought, espying a misplaced whitecap between wavetops in a trough, the faintest, quickest glimpse of a head, a flash of eyes, as briefly chatoyant as a cat's from the single burning lanthorn, lambent and large approving sea-hound's eyes…

Then the apparition was gone as if it had never been, as if he had wished it to be, leaving him grinning when he should have been deflated with disappointment and dread of his crime.

'Damme, if I don't feel we've done something right, tonight,' Lewrie said. 'Even was it wrong.'

'Aye, sah.'

There came a whoop as a new-come was hosed down under the force of the wash-deck pump, turning and shivering naked, along with a laugh from his waiting companions and the off-watch crew who'd gathered for the show, encouraging him to make the best of it.

Mr. Winwood came forward, a bared sword in his right hand, once the fellow was through, urging everyone to hush. He laid the blade on the man's right shoulder, as if conferring knighthood, and said, 'With God as my witness, I christen thee in a new life and a new name. Put on sailor's clothing and be known as…'

'Abraham,' the former slave supplied, in an awed tone.

'As Abraham Howe. Welcome aboard, lad!' Winwood cried, laying the sword on his left shoulder then the top of his head, eliciting a round of applause from the sailors, and two dozen hands to be shaken.

'Uhmm… Andrews,' Lewrie murmured.

'Aye, sah?'

'You might, uhm… pass the word among the crew. About those seals? Might make them easier of mind about our little raid,' Lewrie suggested.

'Oh, aye, sah!' Andrews laughed, tumbling to it. 'By de way, sah?

Don't know if ya ever knew it, but my slave name was Caesar, sah. My ol' massa name me after some damn' ol' Roman,' Andrews said in a soft voice, as if daring to suggest a first-name basis.

'Want to pick another whilst Mister Winwood's dolin' 'em out?' Lewrie replied with a tentative chuckle, feeling that there was an accusation in there someplace. It stung, in fact, since he had known it, ages before, but had quite forgotten it; like any seaman aboard ship, Andrews was 'Andrews' or 'Coxswain,' known by his place and his duty, with nothing more required between a common seaman and an officer. If Andrews, to hide his identity in the Navy, had chosen a new name, a new first name, when he'd run away, he'd never bothered to learn it, either!

'Think ah'd have t'strip an' bathe, sah?' Andrews asked, a tiny mocking edge to his voice.

'Mister Winwood's Church of England, not a Dissenter, so total immersion's probably not necessary,' Lewrie said, tongue in cheek, to jape Andrews out of whatever 'pet' he was in. 'A wee dribble atop yer head'll be all.' Damn, he still couldn't recall his first name!

'Ah'll stick with the one ah got then, sah,' Andrews said, as if weary of trying. 'Too many ship's books, an' those fake papers you and Mistah Padgett done for me, already got it down.'

'I'd admire, did you have a word with our new volunteers, once they're named and settled in,' Lewrie went on as if Andrews had not put him on the spot, for whatever bloody reason. 'Cruel as it was, they might be feeling a touch homesick.'

'Missin' dey mamas an' daddies, sah,' Andrews expounded. 'And worryin' 'bout how bad de beatin's and whuppin's gonna be when dey is missed. Gonna be a ruckus raised. White folks is antsy enough 'bout runaways and rebel slaves, already.'

'You don't think they'd talk, do you?' Lewrie asked suddenly.

'I think dey'd die fo' dey say a word, sah,' Andrews told him, turning to face him in the darkness for a moment. 'Deir sons is free, and dot's all dot matters. De massas are fooled, with a scare put on 'em, and dot sort o' victory's worth all de lashes dey can deal out.'

'But they'll still be homesick,' Lewrie pressed.

'Aye, sah, dey will. And I'll talk with 'em, and try to ease dey minds.'

Matthew! Lewrie suddenly recalled, after frantically dredging his memory; his first name's Matthew!

'I'd admire that… Matthew Andrews.'

'Aye, sah.'

In the faint gleam of the single lanthorn, Lewrie could see his eyes brighten.

'Carry on, then, Cox'n.'

BOOK FOUR

Saepe trucem adverso perlabi sidere pontum?

Saepe mare audendo vincere, saepe hiemem?

How oft under unkindly stars thou glidest over the

savage deep? How oft in thy daring thou conquerest

the sea, and oft the storm?