Patrice caught my arm, her eyes wide. “What are ye thinking?”
“I’m going to help.”
“Ye cannae help, Miss. What if things go wrong?”
Why would I want to have any part in the potential fight that may break out? I wasn’t sure, but I felt like I needed to be there. If nothing else, to take Mr. Ashby’s side. Without another word, I touched the pistol in my pocket for courage, then went up the ladder before she could stop me.
“Miss!” she called as she followed.
The upper deck was brighter than the gun deck, even though only the moon and stars lit it. I had a clear view of the crew. They were angry, speaking animatedly to one another. The first mate, Matthew Hull, was facing the crew, in front of the captain, holding up his hands as he spoke to them. Captain Selton seemed to hide behind him, looking cowardly.
“Now, men, listen. I know you’ve heard something troubling. But let me assure you, we will make it to shore just fine, and when we do, the captain will pay you what you’re owed. ”
A man I recognized as the second mate, Jonas, took a step forward. “We better, or we’ll make sure he’s hanged for this.”
From what I had gathered over the weeks I’d spent aboard theKatarina, Jonas wasn’t well liked but was necessary on the ship because he did so much of the heavy lifting and procured materials for the crew. Yet as he spoke, the men behind him seemed in full support of the man. Was this the beginning of a mutiny? When men who otherwise disliked each other banded together against a captain?
“I’d like to speak, if that’s all right,” Mr. Ashby said, stepping toward the front of the crew. I saw his usually expressive face become impassive, as if he deliberately wished to betray no emotion at all. It must have been a technique he had honed as a leader. “Understandably, you are upset. You were all under the assumption that this vessel has been much more profitable than it is. Your pay is in question, and that is most unfair for you.”
Pushing began from the back of the crowd and some men shouted with venom in their voices. Hands were raised in protest.
“That’s right!”
“The captain’s been lyin’ to us!”
“He’s a scoundrel!”
“Let’s turn back!”
My heart squeezed at the thought of returning to Scotland. “No!” I called out in desperation, clutching my hands to my chest. My need to find Graham intensified as I continued listening to their cries to turn back. Then one of the men yelled something that chilled me to the bone.
“Mutiny!”
The silence that followed was accentuated by the creaking of the ship. Captain Selton sucked in a breath and looked around fiercely as if trying to determine who’d spoken the offensive word. They all exchanged glances, some worried and some angry. Such a word was not used lightly. Then, just as the crew began to seem agitated again and I thought chaos would erupt, Mr. Ashby spoke with authority.
“Let’s take a moment to think of the implications here. We’re all men of honor, and we live by a code. A mutiny won’t get us what we want. We are more than halfway to Basseterre, and there is nothing to be done until we reach land. In times like these, it is always best to move forward. ” Pride swelled within me as I watched him stand firm, resolute, like a true leader of men. Whatever zeal the men had felt moments ago seemed to have settled like the sea after a tempest.
There was some grumbling, then most of them scattered. I watched, impressed. Though a man with no true authority on the ship, Mr. Ashby deftly steered them away from catastrophe. We were safe, for now. I wasn’t sure what would happen to the captain when we made it to land, but at least it seemed we were to continue on our journey. The resentful feelings between the men and their captain, however, did not bode well for the quality of the remainder of the trip.
Mr. Ashby, Matthew Hull, and Captain Selton spoke briefly. I imagined they had to thank him for saving their necks. I saw him nod, the calm expression never leaving his face.
Once things had settled, Mr. Ashby saw me and scowled. He walked over to me. “I told you to stay below. Why did you not listen?”
“I wanted to help you, if I could.”
My words seemed to astound him. “What on earth—or sea—do you think you could have done? Fought them?”
I nodded. “If necessary. You say you will protect me, but who’s protecting you?”
Mr. Ashby stilled. He regarded me with an intensity in his eyes that made my stomach flip. My words repeated several times in my head. Had that touched him somehow?
Then, as if the moment had never occurred, he laughed, the crinkles around his eyes making an appearance. His blue eyes—dark in the moonlight—danced with humor. “There’s just nothing you can’t do, Miss Findlay.”
“I’m glad you know it.” My smile felt awkward as I was still trying to recover from the look he’d given me.
“Ye got them to calm down, Mr. Ashby. Well done,” Patrice said.
Mr. Ashby nodded, blowing out a breath as if to relieve some tension inside. “It may seem as if all is well now that the crew has calmed, but I want the two of you to use caution. If we’ve had one discussion about turning around or—heaven forbid—mutiny, there may yet be more upheaval before we reach St. Kitts.” Mr. Ashby’s voice was filled with seriousness. I saw his features set rigidly. “That means not coming up when the crew seems agitated, Miss Findlay. Even if you believe you can help.”
