to hear the yarn.
‘Right, I'll fill and stand on,' Stirk agreed. 'When I was a younker, I was in another trade,' he began.
Kydd hid a smile.
'Reg'lar run fr'm St Marlow ter Penzance in brandy.
Had a shipmate aboard name o' Cornish Jack, liv'd nearby. Now, he was a right frolicsome cove, always in wi' the ladies. An' he snares a real spruce filly — Kitty Tresnack she wuz called. Trouble is, she's married, see, to old man Tresnack 'oo owns a sizeable tin mine. Didn't stop 'em - he'd step off soon as he knew 'ow, back aboard last minute, 'n' all the time off in the hills wi' this Kitty.'
Stirk gave a snort that some might have interpreted as disapproval.
'He comes back aboard jus' as we're about t' sail, but there's noos. Seems old man Tresnack goes down wi' a fever 'n' dies real quick. So Cornish Jack can't wait t' get back 'n' marry Kitty — but when we does make port agen, he finds 'is intended in clink, arrested fer murder of 'er 'usband!
'They 'as the trial, an' she's found guilty, sentenced ter 'ang. Cornish Jack can't believe it — 'e sleeps outside the prison walls till the day she's due ter be choked off. He asks permission to go with 'er to the scaffold. They agrees, an' on th' day he goes up ter the gallows 'oldin' 'er 'and and when it's time 'e clutches 'er tight. The rope goes around 'er neck, an' she asks 'im, solemn-like, 'You will?' Jack gets uneasy, but says, 'I will.' She then goes calm and it's all over fer 'er.'
Stirk paused for effect, and continued. 'After that, Kitty's ghost wuz seen twice, three times or more on the road b'tween Penzance an' Hayle, an' Cornish Jack's a changed man. Goes pale 'n' thin, never laughs — terrible change if y' knew 'im. At th' tavern 'e was 'eard ter say, 'She gives me no peace, follers me everywhere.' We all knows 'oo 'she' is.
'Just a year after this, Cornish Jack was back at sea wi' us, an' in the fo'c'sle. He then finally tells what it was they said on th' gallows. 'She made me swear that on this day, one year more at midnight, I'd marry 'er.' See, not bein' able to get wed in th' flesh, she would in th' spirit.
'An' that's where it gets right scareful, we bein' in our 'ammocks 'n' jawin' together, it all goes quiet, like. That's when we 'ear these sharp small steps on the deckhead, comin' fr'm forrard. He goes white as chalk an' gets th' trembles. They stops right above where Jack 'as his 'ammock. His face goes mad wi' terror, but he drops ter th' deck and makes 'is way topsides. We rushes t' follow - but jus' in time ter see 'im leg it over th' bulwark ter throw 'imself in th' sea.'
Stirk took a deep breath and said, in a low voice, 'We catches only a couple o' white faces in them black waves, so 'elp me, an' then 'e's gone!'
The long silence following was Stirk's satisfying reward.
From seaward, Christiansted turned out to be a cosy, settled piece of Denmark in the Caribbean, all cream-coloured buildings with red roofs, before lofty hills inland. At the sight of Seaflower's ensign a warning gun thumped from Fort Christiansvaern, marked on the chart as 'in want of repair'. Obediently, Seaflower rounded to, let go her anchor outside the reef and awaited the boat putting off from the town.
The Danish officer boarded quickly, his glance taking in the clean lines, neatness and loving detail that only a sailor's pride in his ship could evoke. 'Lojtnant Holbaek,' the man said, in crisp military tones. His-red tasselled blue uniform looked odd on the deck of a Royal Navy cutter.
Farrell advanced with outstretched hand. 'Welcome aboard His Majesty's Cutter Seaflower, er, Loytnant,' he said. Holbaek shook hands. Turning meaningfully to Jarman, Farrell said loudly, 'Loytnant Holbaek takes back to Christiansted the best wishes of His Britannic Majesty for prosperity and peace, and our hopes that the Jacobin upstarts will soon be swept from the seas.'
'Mange tak, Kommandor— thenk yo,' Holbaek said, with a clicking of heels. He seemed to brisde a little under the curious stares of Sea/lower's sailors. 'An' my packet?'
