I stop to be sick again. Oh, Lord, if you're gonna take me, please take me now ... This is so awful ... The drink sure tasted better going down than it does coming up. Damn that Clarissa! I had her in flames and now I'm the one that's burnt to the waterline and Oh, my poor head. You sure showed me, Clarissa, just who was the thoroughbred and who was the mutt. I sit down on a rock to rest and I put my throbbing head in my hands. I know, I know, Liam, as you've often said, "'Tis the iron fist 'neath the velvet glove," and it is.
Millie comes up and puts her chin on my knee and looks up at me with her big brown eyes. I put my two hands on the dome of her forehead and I say out loud, "I swear, by the sweet, gentle soul beneath my hands that I will never, ever, take a drink of spirits again. Amen."
I've got a little money in my money belt, but I think I'll be sleeping out tonight. It don't look like rain and I'll have to watch what I spend, 'cause now my plan is to make enough to buy passage to England and see what's up with Jaimy. I can't wait no longer, I got to know, so I can get on with things, no matter which way it goes with him. So I'm sorry, Ephraim and Betsey, sorry that I didn't finish up the Preacher, but he's almost done so maybe you can finish the job yourself and, if not, I hope you can put all that behind you and get married and have lots of fat, happy babies. And Sylvie and Henry, be happy in the company of each other. I'm sorry, Amy, that I couldn't stop Randall from marrying Clarissa, I did what I could but it wasn't enough. I never did really learn to fight like a lady, to fight like Clarissa knows how to fight. She showed me that, for sure. I had my foot on the neck of my enemy yesterday but still she wriggled free and beat me down. And, Amy, I'm sorry that I made a mess of things and brought dishonor to your house and family, and I'm sorry, Randall, that you got hurt in protecting me when I was helpless, I really am. And helpless I was—all my cunning and cleverness gone because of my wanton ways. It's funny that you, Randall, the one who mounted the most ardent assault on my poor virtue, should be the one to save it. I thank you for that. Sorry, Gully, that I left the Lady Lenore back at the school. I thought I'd be back, but now I ain't gonna be. Maybe Amy'll save my stuff—though she sure seemed to hate me last time I saw her, so I don't know. And I'm sorry, Mistress, that I didn't turn out to be a lady. I know you tried.
Dear Millie, why do you leap and bound about so? You've nothing in this world but your hair and hide and bone and your foolish doggie grin and yet you are full of joy and think it just the very best of things to be going down an unknown dusty road with one such as me. Go back now, Millie, you must know I am so very hard on my friends.
I open my seabag to pull out my serving-girl gear, as I think I'll cause less comment that way. Bad enough, a girl alone and on the road, let alone one dressed in a blue party dress. As I'm getting it out, I feel a pang as I spy the bright racing silks all folded up there. Was it only yesterday that I had that triumph on the Sheik and was looking forward to my first ball like any silly girl?
I'm starting to feel better. Maybe I'll live, after all, I thinks as I finish dressing. The weskit feels good cinched up tight against my ribs, my shiv and my whistle nestled in there all snug where they belong.
Millie, will you not go back? No? Ah well, then, stay and herd your one black lamb, as she certainly needs it. Shall we have a tune, then, to cheer us and speed us on our way? What? "The Boys Won't Leave the Girls Alone"? Why, that's one of my favorites, too. A perfect traveling song! What, and you dance, too? You foolish dog, of course you would! All right, here we go...
"I'll tell me ma when I get home,
The boys won't leave the girls alone.
Jacky's fair and Millie's pretty
And they've both gone to New York City!"
Chapter 47
[Delivered to Dovecote on May 21, 1803]
James Emerson Fletcher
On board the Essex
At Sea
April 18, 1804
Miss Jacky Faber, the Best Girl in the World!
Dovecote Farm
Quincy, Massachusetts, USA
Dearest Jacky,
JOY! Pure and absolute joy! The heavens open and pour forth their celestial light, the angelic choruses shout "Hosanna!" and my heart, which was at my feet, leaps to my throat in total joy!
In short, dear one, I got your letter.
Shall I tell you of the way I got it? Yes, I shall, for I have the time, the quill, the ink, and, oh yes! I do have the inclination! Joy!
Anyway, it was an ordinary day—watches, patrols, eat, sleep, more watches, all unrelieved by any thought that you still cared for me—when word comes that Nelson, the great Nelson, himself, will come over today on the Raleigh to visit the Essex!
Well, having spent your time before the mast (and how you were able to endure it, my poor frail creature, I do not know and scarce can think of it, even now), I know you can well imagine the mighty preparations that were made prior to the arrival of the very Hero of the Battle of the Nile. The ship did shine, I can tell you, with every piece of brass at its highest glint, every flag snapping, every man scrubbed pink and in his finest uniform.
The frigate Raleigh, forty-four guns, came by and heaved to, and the great man descended from it into a boat and came alongside, and in a moment was standing on our deck, followed by Captain Fishburne and the senior officers of the Raleigh.
I, of course, was drawn up stiff as a ramrod on the quarterdeck, near the rail. Lord Nelson was bowing and shaking hands with our own Captain and I'm drinking in this historic moment when I hear a pssst! Shocked at this breach of etiquette, I look over the side and there, as a member of the boat crew, is our own Brother Davy! The boat's coxswain was looking at him most severely, a look that grew from severe to incredulous as Davy left his oar and scrambled up the ladder and thrust a letter into my hand and whispered, "She said no other hand but yours," and then retreated back down to the boat. The coxswain reached out and backhanded Davy a terrible blow across the face and then settled back down, but I knew that would not be the end of it — I knew he would be flogged when he returned to his ship.
What could be so important as to risk a flogging, I thought, and then I looked at the packet in my hand and saw that it was from you. I was almost unmanned on the spot, almost sinking to my knees in joy and dread, but I did not. I stood there in a high state of agitation for a good twenty minutes while the captains and Lord Nelson exchanged compliments, and then, when it was time for Captain Fishburne and Lord Nelson to return to the Raleigh, I stepped out and said, "Begging your pardon, Sir, but I must have a word with you," thereby ending my naval career, "but Seaman Jones of your ship has just delivered to me a letter from one I hold most dear and I would prefer that he not be flogged for doing that, Sir. If you would be so good."