Teal sat down again and studied the prisoner closely. "Of course ye will. Now, tell me, where exactly is your captain
Thuron bound for?"
Ludon answered promptly. "He is sailing back to the place of his birth in France, somewhere called Arcachon, sir.
Thuron was always talking of giving up the buccaneering life. Now that he has enough gold, he plans to live like a true
gentleman there. with land and a chateau, sir."
Teal tapped his chair arm pensively. "How much gold does he possess, and don't give me any hoary old tales of buried
treasure. How much exactly, eh?"
Ludon swallowed hard. "I cannot say exact, but about fully the weight of a man the size of your bosun, sir."
Teal drew his sword and tapped the prisoner's back lightly. Ludon grimaced and arched his back. Teal chuckled.
"That'd be a good fortune for any man, if 'twere in coin. Nice solid gold coin can be spent anywhere. All these
fabulous stone, strings o' pearls an' fancy rings usually turn out t'be fakes, or highly identifiable. Give me gold coin
anytime, eh!"
Rooting out a chart, he spread it across the table and studied it. "France y'say, let me see. Ah, here 'tis, Arcachon, just
off the Bay of Biscay. D'ye know, methinks I'll give your buccaneer captain a run for his money."
Ludon ignored his aching back for a moment. "Sir, you mean you'd chase Thuron clear across the Atlantic Ocean to
the French coast?"
Teal warmed to his new idea. "But of course! I've got a handsome new ship, plenty of supplies an' the promise of a
fortune. I'll overtake the rascal long before he ever enters French waters, an' hang him from his own yardarm! Then I'll
put about for England, imagine that, eh! Captain Jonathan Ormsby Teal, comin' home with three ships an' a fine
selection of gold coin. I'll rename this vessel the Royal Champion an' take the other two in tow. Stap me liver, I'll
make a pretty picture, sailin' up the Thames River with the men cheerin' an' the ladies flutterin' their fans an' kerchiefs.
Hah, confound me breeches if I ain't promoted to admiral within the very year!"
Ludon kept silent, hoping that the Marie could outrun Teal, at least until they were both in French waters. With France
and England always at war with each other, there was a chance things could work out well for him. It was likely that
they could all be captured by the French Navy. Thuron and his crew would be hanged as pirates, Teal and his men
would either end up on the gallows beside them or be held in prison for ransom by the English. If he could lay hands
on the gold, it would be a simple matter to bribe a French naval captain to accept a fabricated story. He could pose as a
Caribbean merchant, taken captive by the English privateer and robbed of his gold. Once ashore in France he planned
on vanishing over the border into Spain. Rich men can live happily anywhere.
Teal was right—plenty of gold coin was the answer to everything.
Once Teal had ordered a set course, gossip soon got round the ship. The privateers were greatly cheered by the news of
seeing home again. The mate, the bosun and the master gunner discussed it in the galley over mugs of grog and hot
water, but scepticism had set in after their initial cheeriness, particularly with the bosun. "Huh, we'll never catch the
Frenchie— that ship's as swift as a flea over butter. She's already outsailed us once."
Swilling his mug around, the mate took a sip. "Aye, right enough, but this time she doesn't know we're chasin' her.
Who ever heard of a ship pursuin' another from the Caribbean t'the Bay o' Biscay?"
Nodding his grizzled head, the master gunner agreed. "Right, matey, the last thing that froggy will expect t'see is Teal
in a big new vessel comin' after him."
The bosun was determined to keep up a gloomy outlook. "An what'll that give us, a chance to fight an' get killed afore
we ever see England an' home again? Take my word, mates, Teal's doin' all this to get hold of the buccaneer's treasure.
But what'll we get out of it, eh? Not a penny piece. Look at me, I'd have been better off servin' in the Royal Navy on a
ship o' the line instead of on a lousy privateer. At least I'd receive half pension for this broken leg o' mine!"
The mate scoffed. "That ain't a broken leg—'twas only sprained when that spar fell on it."
Full of self-pity, the bosun moved his leg and winced. "Well, it feels as if it's still broke! Wouldn't it be nice if a spar
fell on Teal or, better still, a full mast? We'd be free men then, an' we could sail to Dover, sink the ship an' split the
treasure atween us!"
Nudging him sharply, the master gunner murmured, "Stow that talk. If Teal hears ye've been fermentin' a mutiny,
you're a dead man. Hush now, here comes Cookie!"
The Irish cook bustled into the galley, muttering aloud. "Goin' home to dear old England, is it? Nobody's mentioned
dear old Ireland! I'd sooner see the darlin' Liffey flowin' through Dublin than London an' the Thames River. An' have
ye heard the man givin' out his orders like a Wexford washerwoman with tuppence t'spend on a Monday..."
He went into an imitation of Teal's foppish accent, which brought smiles to the faces of his shipmates. "You there,
cook, demn yer eyes! Where's me Madeira, eh? An' y'call this a fresh fish, sirrah? 'Twas fresh when the Bible was
written. Take the confounded thing out o' me sight! I'll have ye flogged an' keelhauled if ye look at me like that again.
Out o' me sight, ye insolent cockroach, be off!"
Ludon sat on the deck beneath the galley window, listening to all that was said and storing it in his mind for future
reference: talk of mutiny, murder and ship scuttling, disrespect of the captain. What was it the cook had likened Teal
to? A Wexford washerwoman. Wouldn't Redjack be pleased to hear that when the time came!
Ludon was not quite sure what form his plan would take nor when he would be able to put it into effect. But all he saw
and heard was of value to him. After all, was he not but one lowly prisoner in the midst of enemies?
12
DAWN'S WELCOMING LIGHT FLOODED THROUGH the cabin as fresh ocean breezes ruffled the edges of charts
on the captain's table. Ben and Ned sat on the bed anxiously watching the Frenchman, to whom Ben had related the
whole tale.
Thuron pondered the fantastic narrative, stroking his rough beard for quite a while before speaking. "If any man had
told me all this, I would have had him locked up as a mad person. But I know you are telling me the truth, Ben. From
the first time I looked into those strange eyes of yours, I knew you were different from anyone I had ever met. Who
can tell, maybe some odd fate has brought us together. I am not sufficiently educated to question it—I believe you."
Ben sighed with relief, feeling as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his heart.
Ned sent him a thought. "Thank goodness our captain is a man we can trust, eh mate ?"
Unthinkingly, the boy answered aloud. "He certainly is, Ned!"
Thuron smiled, gazing into the dog's trustful eyes. "This fellow can understand everything I say, I'm sure of it. I could
tell you were just talking together—what was he saying to you, lad?"
Ben told the captain, who seemed immensely pleased. "I wish I could speak with Ned. He looks a handsome and
intelligent fellow. Hahaha! Look at him, he heard me!"
The black Labrador stood up on the bed and struck a pose, which he hoped looked both handsome and intelligent. Ben
laughed along with the Frenchman. "I'm afraid you can't hold conversations with Ned, a. ', but he can nod yes or no to