the dratted man was wise to him. Feet braced apart, he stood next to Able at the wheel. “Either you prodigiously entertained the missus last night, or you’re damned happy to be at sea again,” he commented frankly.
Lord, but the man was vulgar. “Bit o’ both, sir,” he said, which made Ogilvie chuckle and say, “Touché.” Surprisingly, the captain also added, “From now on, belay the sir. You’re commanding the Mercury at sea and I am crew. I call you captain. I thought we already discussed this.”
“I suppose we did. Very well, Angus. Smitty and I have set a course for Rochefort. We anticipate four days.”
Ogilvie nodded. “That should be true, with no surprises.”
As it turned out, there were two surprises on the first day, both of them pleasant, and both Avon March’s doing, the quiet little fellow recommended by Lady St. Anthony. She had urged him on Able at the last minute with no explanation, but with a smile in eyes that hadn’t done much smiling lately. He took her at her word.
The sun beamed on the Mercury as she bowled along, her sails catching every bit of wind, which was the secret weapon and glory of a yacht. Ogilvie took the wheel as Able summoned his young crew for a lesson in signaling.
“We’ll be flying our signals from the mainsail. That’s where the line and pulleys are and so is the flag locker. Refer to your signal books, if you please.”
For their seamanship class at St. Brendan’s, Able had insisted that every boy have his own book. Thaddeus Croker balked a bit at what seemed unnecessary expense for mere students, but Able knew better. The already much-used books came out, along with pencils and tablets. They looked at him, ready, even little Avon, who had joined Able’s course a few times when Lady St. Anthony cut him loose from plane geometry.
As it turned out, Avon startled them all. No signal threw him, even the more complicated, “’Lay alongside enemy,’ followed by ‘Fire on command.’”
Able noticed Tots and Whitticombe exchanging humorous glances. He fixed them with an inquiring eye, and Tots gestured to Avon, who sat there, all innocence, hand folded.
“Lord bless me,” Able said. “Avon, are you even looking up the signals?”
“Nossir. I know them.”
He did. Better test him at the mast. “Let’s see how fast you can string’um in proper order. Ready? I’ll give you random orders. Maybe throw in some names.”
Well, that was a revelation. Up they went at Able’s command, flying in a spanking breeze. Avon didn’t even forget the query flag when specified, or the answer flag, a common error of new signalmen.
Able looked around at the others, including Angus Ogilvie at the wheel, each as surprised as he was. “Good work, Avon. The best, in fact. Let’s try a few more just for fun.”
They did, with the same results. When Able finished, Avon folded the flags and put them away in their individual cubbies in the newly installed flag locker. Able rested a hand on his shoulder. “Mr. March, you are now signal officer on the HMS Mercury.”
The other Rats cheered, and Avon bowed most formally, somehow touching in a lad of eleven. “Captain Six,” he said. “I can also cook.”
“D’ye cook as well as you signal?” Able asked, delighted by this crew member.
“Aye, sir.”
No false modesty there, either; he did. Working in the Mercury’s miniscule galley at noon, Avon produced a pease porridge to accompany the figgy dowdy that Ezekiel Barnaby had stuffed in that pasteboard box. With the exception of Davey Ten, who still wasn’t up to food, the crew pronounced it good and wanted more.
Able sent Angus Ogilvie below for his dinner and took the helm again, after telling Smitty to shoot the sun and give him some figures while the others watched. Able didn’t need the reading, but Smitty did. The result was spot on or near as, which was all Able wanted.
What he wanted most of all was what he had, the Gunwharf Rats seated around him by the wheel. “What’s the principal task of small ships in a fleet action?” he asked, happy to be in a seagoing classroom instead of cooped up in a building.
They all knew; he saw it on their faces, which grew suddenly serious. Whitticombe’s hand went up first. “To repeat signals from the commanding vessel to other ships more distant where signals are obscured by smoke,” he said promptly.
“It’s dangerous work, Rats,” Able said, “weaving in and out of the line of