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Midshipman Padget, the pretty one, flushes in mortification. He will, of course, obey, as he would obey if his Captain told him to drop his breeches and waddle around the table clucking like a chicken, but he does not have to like it. He fixes his eye on a wall lamp, and dying a thousand deaths, he opens his mouth and gives forth:

"She brought herself unto the dock

All dressed in men's array,

And stepped on board a man-of-war

To convey herself away,

Oh, to convey herself away."

I am completely astounded. The melody sounds like a faster version of my "Ship's Boy's Lament," done in a major key instead of the minor. I think I hear Liam Delaney's hand in this.

"Before you come on board, Sir,

Your name I'd like to know.

She smiled all in her countenance,

'They call me Jack-a-roe."

It warn't like that at all, I'm thinkin'. I have recovered my senses enough to reach down and lift the Captain's hand off my leg. He does not seem to mind. He merely uses the hand to refill my glass. Sailors, I swear, be they Captain or be they seaman, it's all one and the same. Midshipman Padget launches into what proves to be the last verses.

"Your waist is light and slender,

Your fingers are neat and small,

Your cheeks too red and rosy,

To face the cannonball'

Oh, to face the cannonball.

I know my waist is slender,

My fingers neat and small,

But it would not make me tremble

To see ten thousand fall.

Oh, to see ten thousand fall!"

"Poor Captain Locke," I say, after the applause for the mortified midshipman stops. Poor Jaimy, too, what he must think, he being so upright and all. And I can well guess what his mother must think. I take another deep swallow of the wine to calm myself. Next time I must water it.

"Poor Captain Locke, nothing! He has drunk for free on that story for months!" chortles the Captain. "He has a grand speech on the matter—I myself heard him deliver it at our club." Captain Humphries puffs up and puts his hand to his chest like a grand orator. '"I will bear the ridicule of any man who has stood on a ship's burning deck with the masts coming down and the air thick with hot can-nonballs, a man who has smelled the foul breath of the cannon and seen the scuppers run red with the blood of his friends, yea, a man who has seen all that and yet did not run and hide to save his own life. I will suffer that man's insults and call him brother. But should any man who has not seen those things, one who has sat comfortable at his table with his pipe and his dinner while we were on the cruel sea, should such a man dare make sport of me or the Dolphin or any who were on her, then I will gladly meet with him in the morning and cheerfully put a hole in his unworthy chest! I put it to you like this: The girl stood by my side in the heat of battle and she did not run!'" The Captain finishes and lurches to his feet. "A toast! A toast to Bloody Jacky Faber!"

All cheer and rise and I try to sink into my chair. Amy beams at me over her glass. I look over at Randall and see that he is stricken to the core. Uh-oh. I see that male pride has been wounded and is in need of repair. I know he is thinking that for all his arrogance and posturing, it is I who have faced combat and come out of it with some honor and he has not yet been tried, and he wonders, in his heart of hearts, just how well he will perform. After the toast Randall sits down heavily and seems to sink within himself. At his side, the good ship Clarissa is in flames, her plan for the sinking of the good ship Jacky having gone awry. She crosses her arms and looks straight forward in a storm of anger.

More wine is poured, the dessert brought, the Captain's hand is back, and the Lieutenant has resumed his leering, but I am soon saved by the announcement that the dance is about to begin and all are invited to the main ballroom. I toss off the rest of the wine and rise up on the Captain's arm and am escorted in to the dance, my head up, eyes hooded, lips together, teeth apart, the finest of the ladies.

Many more people pour in the door to the ballroom and are announced as the band strikes up the first tune. There are people, both young and old, from all over the county, as this is the ball of the year by all accounts. The place fairly glitters with light and color and wild excitement.

First we have a Virginia reel, which is good 'cause it frees me up from the clutches of Captain Humphries, who's a good sort in his way, but I really want to get close to that pretty Midshipman Padget—to ask him if he's heard of Jaimy, of course—so during the reel when there's two rows of dancers and everybody sort of gets to touch hands with everyone else for a moment, I give his hand a squeeze.

On the next dance, a minuet, he comes up to me and, blushing, asks me to dance and I bat my eyelashes and say yes, and then we go to the floor with the other couples and we dance and it is lovely and he is so pretty and nice, but I wish so much that Jaimy was here with me to see all this. He would look so dashing and I would be so proud. After the dance I ask Mr. Padget if he knows of Jaimy, but, alas, he reports that he does not.

My gallant escort takes me to the punch bowl, which has a big chunk of ice floating in it, and he gets me a cup of punch and it's good and I wonder what's in it, but I don't wonder long because I am stolen from the midshipman by Lieutenant Flashby for the next dance, and he is a very good dancer and is very charming and smells of cologne water, but somehow I don't quite trust him. Then there's another dance, a quadrille, and another partner and my head is spinning and I have some more punch and I have a vague notion of Amy coming up to me and warning me about something but I can't remember what it is...

And then there's another dance, and then, wonder of wonders, Clarissa comes to me and says, "Oh, don't mess with that silly punch, dear Jacky. Here, have some of this. We call it a julep, yes, we do. A mint julep, as a matter of actual fact. Oh yes, Jacky, it is just the very best thing. No, no, there's no rum or whiskey in it, just a little of our own fine bourbon ... Here, refresh yourself, you must be exhausted, poor thing. You dance so well, I declare you put the rest of us to shame, you really do ... you really are the belle of the ball, Jacky ... Let me get you another, why, it's no trouble at all, dear Jacky..."

I taste it and it is sweet and smooth and cool and good and it must be all right 'cause it's not harsh at all, not like rum, which burns its way down, and this is just so lovely. Why, it's just like that root beer. "Oh, thank you, Clarissa, I'm so glad we can be frens ... er ... friends." Only it's soft, so soft. Another dance? "Well, Sir, I be delighted. 'Scoose me, Clarissa. Sir, let us whirl onto the floorn..."I mean, floor, I mean ... I don't know what I mean. "Whoops, I'm sorry, did I stumble? Isn't this all so lovely isn't this just the best night ever, isn't this just the finest..."

Chapter 46

I wake up looking at the bottom of a chamber pot by which I am kneeling and into which I am throwing up.

"Ooohhh ... pleeeeease ... God...," I hear myself say.

"God shall not help you," I hear Amy say severely. "You brought this on yourself." I dimly see that she is standing above me as I swim back into full awareness and total misery.