The Midshipman Prince Read Free

detail go fetch that poor bastard in.”
     
           While Rooney was shouting orders to the Bosun of the Watch, Hudson picked up the megaphone that was hanging on the quarterdeck rail.
     
           “Fore and main. Away aloft! Trice up and layout,” he called and the ratlines leading to the fore and main topmasts were suddenly teeming with men scrambling up them. He waited a minute as the men sidestepped out on the yardarms and took in the stunsail booms to get them out of the way. He then lowered the megaphone pointing it to the main deck.
     
           “Loose the topsail sheets,” he ordered and several groups of men grabbed lines that held the topsails taught and loosened them from the belaying pins to which they were tied.
     
           Pointing the megaphone to the masts again, “Take-in topsails.” And the men on the yardarms started to grab handfuls of canvas sailcloth, pulling the two sails up and securing them in a loose bunting.
     
           The ship was now at a dead stop.
     
     
    * * *
     
           Walker awoke from an exhausted nap to feel sunlight scratching at his eyes. His head ached; his shoulder felt as if a sledgehammer had hit it; but, worst of all, he was hopelessly confused.
     
           In a rush, the events of the previous night came back to him and he sat up to look around. He expected to see the death warrant of an empty ocean. Instead, he saw the most beautiful thing he could imagine. A few hundred yards away was a ship lowering a boat. Unable to trust his eyes, he sat up on the spar, started waving his arms and yelling. He was surprised when his yell came out as a mere croak.
     
           “HERE!! OVER HERE!” His voice cracked as he waved his arms while trying to stay upright on his perch. He kicked his feet to try to propel himself higher so that he would be more visible.
     
           “HEY!! HERE!!” He knew that they had seen him, but he continued to wave his hands anyway as if, by stopping, they might somehow go away.
     
           Strong hands grabbed him and hauled him into the boat. After a minute of catching his breath, he looked up to see a young man staring into his face with a look of concern. He was a little younger than Walker and had on a British naval uniform.
     
           “Are you all right?” The young man asked.
     
           “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. But do you have... do you have some water.”
     
           The young officer nodded to a seaman who opened a small water butt that was carried in the boat. He gave Walker a cup, which he eagerly drank, coughing as he did so. Then another.
     
           “Now, who the devil are you.”
     
           “I am Lucas Walker. I am... I was a passenger on the ship Mary Louise . It went down in the storm last night.”
     
           “You went down?” The officer’s head shot up to look around and he could begin to pick out bits of debris floating in the vicinity but no other people. “But where are...”
     
           “Everyone went down with the ship. It happened so fast they... they never had a chance. I think I am the only survivor.”
     
           The man just nodded slowly, looked around one more time, and muttered, “I’ll be damned.”
     
           By this time, they had arrived at the ship, and a rope boarding ladder was dropped. Walker pulled himself up and soon found himself on the main deck of the vessel, dripping wet, facing two men who were obviously in charge and a small crowd of seamen.
     
           “I am Captain Charles Hudson of His Britannic Majesty’s Frigate, Richmond . This is John Rooney, the ship’s Master. Do you speak English?”
     
           Walker looked up and saw a man in his mid-thirties in a blue jacket with gold-lace, two large gold tasseled epaulettes on his shoulders, faded light blue breeches, and a cocked hat placed sideways on his head. He was handsome in a boyish sort of way,