“LIAM?” David whispered. “Ye awake?”
Liam was out of his berth instantly, finger to his lips, shoving David to the companionway and up the ladder.
“Ye wake up Sean, Mr. O will be forgetting he favors ye.”
David snorted. “He ne’er loses his temper.” He took a deep breath. “Aye, much better. The smell below was stifling this night. At least the wind had kept it down some.”
“Country boy.”
“Hmmph, and you’re no’?”
“Och. Nay. Me, I’m from a thriving city of one hundred or so. Well, mayhap fifty. Varies upon the number of gents passing through for sport. I never much thought on it.”
David grinned. “Aye, well, city boy, it’s glad I am then, that I brought you up here to observe a clean night sky.” The night was brilliant with stars, and the small whitecaps atop the water glowed with a phosphorescent fire. They spent a good while in silence, pointing out falling stars.
David yawned and stretched out his arms. “One night I’m hoping to be lucky enough to see na fir-chlis.” Alex had explained the phenomenon to him as a strange fire atop the mast, visible only at night.
“Ye willna, ever—it needs to be storming. This crew willna let the likes of us on deck again in a storm, you can be sure of that,” Liam said. “Are ye still writing daily in your journal?”
“Aye, I try. But I think I need to slow it down a bit so my pencil makes the entire journey. Why d’ye ask?”
“Elisabeth. She was in a lather about the paper ye had given her. Ye do know her da has much more paper at his disposal than ye?”
David chuckled. “Aye, well, it made her happy.” And had taken the look of studied indifference from her eyes for a brief while. It was difficult for her to avoid him on a ship this size, but she was fairly good at ignoring him. “I asked her to write out a wee bit of her poetry.”
Liam grunted, but didn’t make more of it than that. “She’s a good sort. Did ye see her today, watching Alex eat the maggot from his biscuit? She barely flinched.” He laughed.
“Aye, well. He didn’t have to savor it like it was a delicacy. I’ll admit I was feeling a bit queasy myself by the time he was done.”
“He did allow as how it was the better variety of the beast,” Liam said. “I think mayhap man can eat ‘bout anything, he gets hungry enough. And this crew has been hungry enough at times.”
“Have ye?”
“A time or two. Well, just be knowing I was hoping to have a copy of it, your journal; forget the poetry. To read when I’m old and grey, ken?”
“It’s no’ much, I’ll be warning ye in advance, but course I can be writing ye out a copy.” He elbowed Liam, pointing at one of the figures pacing the deck. “That’s Hale coming this way, aye?”
Liam looked, then nodded. “With Wallace. Now that’s an unlikely pairing. What do ye make of that?” They inched back further into the shadows, keeping quiet while the two passed, wondering what business Sarah’s father could possibly have with Mr. Hale.
“Begging your honor’s pardon, don’t mean any offense by it, for certain I don’t . . .” Mr. Wallace could be heard saying as the two passed by.
“Bumming a bottle, ye think?” David asked softly.
“Could have picked a more generous mark, if so.”
13
Christmas Eve, 1783