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of children. For the boy and his dog it was a golden day to remember, far from the rigours of

seafaring and the fear of the Flying Dutchman haunting their dreams.

They returned to the Marie in the late evening to find a grim-faced Thuron awaiting their

arrival. He nodded as he checked the boat's crew. "Gascon isn't with you. I suspected as

much!"

Pierre looked bewildered. "I hadn't noticed he was missing!"

The captain slung a musket across his shoulder and picked up his cutlass. "Oh, Gascon has

jumped ship alright. Ben, you stay here with Ned. Pierre, take four men to row the boat. I'm

going to hunt that rascal down!"

Ben could not understand the captain's reasoning. "But why not just let him go, sir? He's not

much use."

Thuron explained. "If 'twere just that Gascon is a surly and idle man, he could go for all I

care. But while you were on the island, I checked my gold and found that someone has helped

himself to it. That can only be one man—Gascon! He can't run far on the Azores. Pierre and I

will have him back here, ready to sail at dawn tomorrow."

Ned stood with his paws on the rail, watching the departing jolly boat as he imparted a

thought. "You see, I told you I didn't like that Gascon!"

Ben fondled the dog's silky ear. "What a good judge of men you are, sir. I'll wager that when

you become captain, you won't have crew like him aboard your ship."

Ned regarded the boy huffily. "Your humour is misplaced, sir!"

Later they sat together on the afterdeck with the crew. A pale moon was reflected in the calm

waters of the lagoon, and not a breeze stirred anywhere. It was warm from the day's heat.

A crewman was singing softly.

"Come, my love, gentle one, hearken to me,

For I'll bring you a fortune someday.

I'm nought but a man who must follow the sea,

Let me tell you ere I sail away.

When the wind stirs the rigging,

And the white sail's on high,

My heart is as sad as the long seagull's cry.

Wait for me, pray for me, 'til once again,

I sail back to you o'er the wide ocean's main.

And what will I bring for you, ma belle amour?

A bracelet of jewels so fine,

Some silk from Cathay, that I know you'll adore

And a ring on your finger to shine.

So be true to your sailor,

Wipe the tears from your eye,

For when I return you will nevermore cry.

With my feet on the land, and my love by my side,

'Tis farewell to sailing, I'll make you my bride."

Ben gazed up at the star-strewn skies, passing Ned a thought. "That's a pretty little melody, eh

mate?"

Ned panted as though he were chuckling. "Aye, but just look at the singer. He's a whiskery

old doormat with an eye patch and only one tooth in his head. I think any poor girl would run

a mile at the sight of him returning!"

The boy threw a playful headlock on his dog. "Shame on you, sir, criticising others, just

because you're a handsome dog!"

Ned cocked an eye toward Ben. "Cruel but beautiful, that's me!"

It was not on the next dawn but three days later that an anxious Ben saw the jolly boat's

return. Gascon's hands were bound behind him, and the crew had to haul him aboard. Thuron

looked tired and worn out. All hands gathered to see what he would do. Pierre whispered to

Ben. "Slippery as an eel, that Gascon, but we caught him in the end. Cap'n ain't too pleased at

losing three days."

Ben experienced a moment of horror as Thuron drew his dagger. He faced the deserter and

shouted to the crew.

"Look!" With a few slashes he sliced through the felon's pockets and coat lining. Gold coins

glinted in the late-afternoon sun as they clinked upon the deck. Taking Gascon by one ear,

Thuron shook him roughly. "Couldn't wait for the share-out, could you, rat? I should have let

you run off with the other three at Puerto Rico. At least they never thieved from the captain

and shipmates! Take this scum out of my sight. Put him in the anchor-chain locker until I

decide what to do with him!"

As he was dragged off by the bosun and several others, Gascon began shouting. "Throw me in

the sea an' let me swim ashore. I know all about you an' your lucky friends, Thuron. I ain't

stayin' aboard this ship. She's cursed, I tell ye, cursed!"

Pierre silenced Gascon with a hefty blow to the jaw. He bundled the half-conscious deserter

into the chain locker. Barring the door, Pierre growled a warning. "Shut your lyin' mouth an'

be thankful you're still alive, thief. Cap'n should've run ye through with that dagger!"

Thuron glanced at the sky, judging the breeze. "We'll haul anchor an' sail at tomorrow's

dawn."

It was warm that night, and Ben and Ned settled down to sleep on the open deck. The black

Labrador gave thoughtful voice to his opinion. "Pierre was right, the cap'n should've slain that

villain!"

Ben replied, "That sounds a bit ruthless, mate."

Ned closed his eyes, adding a final comment. "I've got a bad feeling about Gascon. I think

there's going to be big trouble for us while he's aboard this ship."

14

CAPTAIN REDJACK TEAL HAD NOT PUT IN AT the Azores. Sailing under fair weather

and favourable winds, he set a course straight for the Bay of Biscay and the coast of France.

Unknowingly, the Royal Champion, with the Devon Belle still in tow, had passed up the

chance of catching La Petite Marie unawares, lying as she was in a single-exit lagoon with

her captain absent ashore. As usual, Teal was seated in his cabin being attended upon hand

and foot. He had just finished a breakfast of fresh fish, biscuits and Madeira. A crewman was

busily polishing his captain's buckled shoes, whilst another brushed vigorously at the red

hunting jacket, which Teal had donned. Redjack had just placed his white-stockinged feet into

the shoes when a knock sounded. He primped at the crisp white stock overlying his shirt.

"Come!"

The mate entered and saluted respectfully. "Come to report a man missin', Cap'n, the French

prisoner."

Teal held his arms wide as a crewman belted the Spanish sword and scabbard about his waist.

"Really? I'm surprised he lasted this long, eh!"

The mate looked at him questioningly. "Sir?"

Looking away from the cheval glass, the privateer captain shook his head pityingly. "Oh, use

your head, sirrah! A demned froggy informer, alone on a ship with three English lads he'd

been tellin' tales about. I'd have wagered a side of gammon to a pig's snout that he'd have had

a fatal mishap long since, eh! How do I look?"

The mate tried to sound enthusiastic at Teal's attire. "Ye cut a good dash, sir, all shipshape an'

Bristol fashion!"

Teal sniffed. "Confound Bristol, London's the place t'be seen. Faith! Are ye goin' to leave

your captain standin' here all day, or will ye attend the door an' let me out on me own deck?

Move y'self, man!"

Once on deck, Teal swept the starboard horizon with his telescope. Highly satisfied with what

he saw, the privateer smiled brightly at his steersman. "Hah, just as I thought, Cape Ortegal on

the Spanish coast. Admirable navigation, even though I do say it meself! Keep her out from

the coast 'twixt Gijon an' Santander. We'll skirt the Gulf o' Gascony, then up to the Arcachon

Basin, eh! Mr. Mate, ye can fetch those three ruffians here from the Devon Belle. Have 'em