The Captain`s Vengeance

saw him, too, sir. I tried t'scour things fresh with vinegar, e'en smoked th' cabins with tobacco, but the wee lads're nothin' but sneaky an' clever, the little pranksters. Cap'm Nicely didn't take t them, I tell ya, too, sir.'

'And what of my clothing, Aspinall?' Lewrie dubiously said, as Aspinall bustled about, prating and fetching him fresh breeches, knee stockings, and shirt. Lewrie held the shirt up, sniffing it warily.

'Oh, no harm t'yours, sir!' Aspinall grinned. 'When they were their lowest, they'd curl up t'gether on yer dressing robe. It seemed t'comfort 'em. But nary a whizz did they ever make on it. Though I did have t'brush off a couple pounds o' hair, now an' then, d'ye see. Now… here's a fresh-pressed neck- stock, sir, and yer waist-coat. I got a pitcher o' cold tea brewed, just th' way ya like it, and…'

It was all Lewrie could do to walk from one end of his quarters to the other for his lovelorn cats, who twined round his ankles.

'Right, then,' Lewrie said with glad sigh of satisfaction once he was properly and comfortably garbed in complete uniform, less gilt-laced coat and cocked hat. 'Do you pass word for Captain Nicely, the ship's officers, and Marine Lieutenant Devereux to attend me.'

'Aye, sir,' Aspinall responded.

'And uhm… Quartermaster's Mate Jugg, as well,' Lewrie added.

'Well, that should cover it,' Lewrie concluded, looking at his officers gathered round his desk and the pertinent chart spread atop it. HMS Proteus bowled along on a goodly slant of wind, her larboard shoulder firmly set to the sea, and heeled over about fifteen degrees. It felt good to flex his legs and balance again, good to hear the hissing, swooshing muffled roar of her hull parting the waters. 'Two- pronged assault, not so very far apart that either party is dangerously isolated from the other, I trust.'

Grand Terre was about five miles long and perhaps a mile wide at best, a low-lying sandy barrier island. It, and its smaller eastern twin, Grand Isle, barred the southern end of Barataria Bay, leaving a poor choice of entrances to the bay. Between the two was the deepest, though Proteus, with her seventeen-and-a- half-foot draught, could not probe too deep between the isles. The borrowed shalope would lead the assault, armed with swivel-guns and 2-Pdr. boat-guns, whilst Proteus would stand in as close as she dared to support with her 12-Pdrs.

It was an uneasy conference, when all depended on Toby Jugg's dim 'recollections' of older sailors' talk, with many a 'so I heard' qualifier flung about; and Jugg shiftily avoiding how he'd gathered such knowledge… or under which flag he'd gained his 'experience.'

Jugg sketched out three possible sites that the pirates might use. One was on Grand Isle's Nor'west tip, on the right-hand side of the best channel; the other was on Grand Terre Island 's Nor'east tip, on the other side of the pass. The last, least likely 'So I heard of, oncet, sors' was at the far West end of

Grand Terre by the shallower inlet. A schooner could get in there, but not a deep-draught prize to be unloaded and stripped.

At both of the most likely sites there were freshwater springs and rills ashore, dense stands of timber for firewood or huts… off the ground like Indian chichees to deter the venomous snakes that the 'auld sailormen' had mentioned. Indeed, there were reputed to be easily recognisable Indian mounds there- wide, tall, and slope-sided, erected God knew how long ago, and for unfathomed uses. There were mounds of oyster, clam, and mussel shells, too-garbage middens from centuries of native settlement, of fishing, raking, and cooking.

Proteus and the shalope would close the coast once it was full dark, launch a cutter and a spying-out party on the evening of their arrival to determine which spot the pirates might be using. If they were even there, of course; if Barataria was more convenient than any inlet farther west, like Atchafalaya Bay, or…

Were they present, all four of Proteus's boats would be used to land a mixed party of seamen and Marines, who would march a short distance overland to take the shore encampment under fire. At the same time, the shalope would go for the pirates' ship and any capture they might have made, curling round behind to block their escape.

If they'd come down Bayou Barataria or the Ouatchas River, like Mr. Pollock had supposed, it made sense to imagine that they would run back that way if overpowered, poling and paddling like mad m pirogues to escape, to lose their pursuers in the maze of coulees or bayous that they alone knew. The shalope's light guns and swivels could slaughter the dugout log canoes and flat-bottomed boats.

'Now, as to who leads which,' Lewrie posed, gesturing for them to take seats and accept glasses of claret, now they were finished with the chart. And this was the sticky part.

As commanding officer of HMS Proteus, one who had already earned his captaincy, Lewrie customarily should have left the hard chores to his junior officers, for how else could they ever gain notice with Admiralty except by the successful doing of some brave deed, mentioned favourably in their captain's report of the action. Of such things a successful career was made, promotion and advancement earned, command of their own warships someday 'bought' with bloody, fatal risks.

Yet Lewrie wished to be in at the kill, to see firsthand, or cause firsthand, the deaths of the de Guilleris, Lanxade, and Balfa… that cousin of theirs, that Don Rubio Monaster who'd most likely taken the shots at him and was reputedly as tight as ticks with them all… do something with that lying slut Charite, though he did admittedly feel squeamish qualms should she be slain.

'Mister Devereux to take all his Marines for the landing party, it goes without saying,' Lewrie declared with a grin, knowing how his elegant and efficient Marine officer relished independent action. They lifted their glasses to each other, Devereux smiling wolfishly.

'Mister Langlie, as First Officer, to oversee our frigate's approach inshore, sir,' Capt. Nicely said with a grunt, knowing that Lt. Langlie would be crestfallen. 'If I, as temporary commander of this squadron, may deem best, hmm?'

'With Mister Adair to assist,' Lewrie said. 'Mister Catterall to lead the seamen of the shore landing and take charge of the boats' progress to the beach.'

'Thankee, sir!' the burly Catterall hooted with glee, ready to elbow everyone within reach to gloat over his good fortune, even if he could be a bobbing corpse not two days hence.

'We do have Mister Darling handy,' Nicely posed.

'Your pardon, Captain Nicely,' Lewrie gently objected, 'but he is not known to the ship's people. Neither, for that fact, is Mister Gamble, tarry and efficient a Midshipman as he's served in my absence. If I may, sir, as Proteus's captain, I prefer her own people to participate. After what the pirates did to some of her people, they have a personal stake, if you will, in the-'

'Mister Darling and Mister Adair, with Lieutenant Langlie, will manage Proteus, ' Captain Nicely decided, 'whilst / shall take overall command of the boat party, and you, Captain Lewrie, shall command the shalope.'

'Well, sir!' Lewrie gawped, trying to finesse his objection politely and squirming uneasily in his chair. 'Dear as I'd wish to see things done to a proper turn, d'ye really think that-'

'Damme, I do, sir,' Capt. Nicely rejoined, all smiles and verve. 'Privilege of my seniority, d'ye see. Oh, we'll not get in the way of the younger lads who need to make their names, but! If those pirates are in there, and if they've been successful, I would no more be able t'sit by and fidget than I could abide t'watch another man eat my supper… then tell me how tasty it was, hah!

'Are we successful, I intend to write fulsomely of all participants in my report to Admiralty, so no one'll suffer for want of credit. Call me an old war-horse if you must, Captain Lewrie, but I can't turn down the chance for real action… and so I shan't.'

Gold fever, more like, Lewrie uncharitably thought; in this case, silver night-sweats/

'Very well, sir,' he said, knowing that further quibbling could be deemed insubordination. 'In that case, I'll need Mister Adair and a midshipman with me… Mister Larkin's an energetic laddy. And at least eighteen hands. Mister Darling and Midshipman Gamble may stay aboard Proteus to second the First