“Me too?” piped up Little Shrimper.
Kipper smiled at him. “You too!”
Emily fell gratefully onto a bench by the table, happy to be able to leave the sight of the dread apparition on the bunk.
“Oh, come to think on it, Little Shrimper, this here’s Emily what generously donated the peppermint to you,” Kipper said cheerily. That he was shading the truth a bit didn’t seem to concern him.
Little Shrimper stared at Emily with round eyes. Then he dipped into a well-worn pocket and pulled out a filthy rag, which he promptly laid open. Inside rested the peppermint, or at least what remained of it. “And I still got it, too!” he said proudly. “I only sucks a bit on it ’fore bedtime. Might even last ’nother week!” At that moment, Emily wished she had a hundred more peppermints to fill that little pocket!
“Now,” said Kipper, setting down three mismatched pottery mugs of steaming tea, “the story begins with me visiting the cellar o’ The Jolly Sailor ’fore coming to the Remembrance Room, to find out if the snake lady and Mrs. P. was there. If they was, I was thinking as how you and me, Emily, could make a little trip to the end o’ the tunnel to find out how them two vanished last night.
“Well, the two o’ them was there, all right, but what was likewise there was a lot o’ arguing and fighting such as you ain’t ever seen, with the snake lady screeching and hissing, and Mrs. P. hollering and snarling. Next thing you know, ’fore I had a chance to break ’way, out from the room comes Cap’n Scurlock, bleeding like a harpooned whale, as Pa always says.
“ ‘Let him go back to his ship and die!’ screeches the snake lady.
“ ‘We’ll throw his body to the sharks later’, snarls Mrs. P. sweetly.
“Meanwhilst, the Cap’n goes on staggering to the stairs, and not wanting to be unfriendly like, I jump from my hiding place, and offer him a hand. Nobody notices us staggering out, which ain’t surprising, things running as they usually run at The Jolly Sailor. But once we get outside, the Cap’n turns to me and says, half-dead like, ‘Ain’t ee the boy what works from time to time up at Sugar Hill Hall?’
“ ‘Same boy, though I don’t work as much there any more,’ says I.
“ ‘But ee must know the child, Emily Luccock,’ says he.
“ ‘That I do’, says I.
“ ‘Well, I must speak to her’, says he. ‘There are things that I must tell her. I cannot go to my Maker with such dark secrets on my soul. So I’d be much obliged if ee would take me to Emily Luccock quick as ee can, because I ain’t good for too many more breaths on this earth.’
“ ‘l’ll do my bestest, Cap’n,’ says I.
“But knowing as how with the size o’ him and the size o’ me, I might never make it to Sugar Hill Hall, why I brung him here to Pa’s place. Pa and me decided as how I got to fetch you here, me promising the Cap’n on my life not to tell you ’bout who was requesting your presence. You know ’bout the rest, Emily. More tea?” Kipper hopped up and started for the kettle. Halfway there, he stopped and turned to the stairs, listening. “Sounds like Pa’s back, and sounds like he’s got someone with him!”
SEVENTEEN
A Stranger at Pa’s Place
From the small, dark opening into Kipper and Pa’s quarters, there rose first a head of hair bright as a basket of oranges, followed by a face with cheeks whipped to a cheerful red by wind and sun, and a pair of sea-blue eyes that matched only one other pair in the world. This, then, had to be Kipper’s Pa.
Directly behind him appeared another man in the uniform of a common seaman. Whatever portions of his face were not covered by a golden beard were deeply bronzed by the sun. His shoulders, broad as a hatch cover, seemed to fill the small room. And he was tall enough that he stooped when he reached the final step, as if from long experience he expected the top of his head to have an encounter with the ceiling.
Emily could not remember seeing this man in the cellar of The Jolly Sailor, but then there were so many around that ugly table. Perhaps he had been there. Kipper stared curiously, but when he started to speak, Pa motioned to him to be silent by putting a restraining finger to the lips. Then Pa motioned the stranger toward an unlit corner of the room. Without uttering a word, he went there and stood with his hands folded, staring silently across the room at the Captain.
“Now, who have we here?” Kipper’s Pa’s voice was as cheerful as a sunny day at the shore. He beamed at Emily as if there were no hint of a drama having to do with life and death being enacted in his home.
“This here’s Emily, Pa,” Kipper said. “And Emily, this here’s Pa.”
“Ain’t ever been happier to meet anyone in my life!” said Pa. “ ’Course I can’t deny I would o’ preferred livelier circumstances.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you too!” Emily said, and dropped him a curtsy. “Mr.—” She stopped shyly for want of a proper name to use.
“Well now,” said Pa, “since you ain’t got one o’ your own, and since all Kipper’s friends do likewise, why I’d be pleased as the tuna what found a hole in the net, as I always say, to have you call me Pa.”
“Thank you, Pa,” said Emily.
Pa smiled broadly, but a moment later the smile had faded into a deep frown as he motioned toward the grim object lying across the room. “Has he spoke any words yet, Kipper?”
“Ain’t said anything, Pa.”
But as if he had heard them, Captain
