Rapture of the Deep: Being an Account of the Further Adventures of Jacky Faber, Soldier, Sailor, Mermaid, Spy (31 page)

Thank you, Higgins, you are just the best. Ahhhh...

But that was yesterday, and this is today. Back to work. Pick up the gold and stick it in the basket, pick up the gold and stick it in the basket, a tisket, a tasket, a green and yellow basket...

Hey, keep your mind on the job, girl.

I pick up a golden goblet encrusted with jewels and am about to shove it into the plunder bag when I hear her voice.

Jacky...

I cock my head to listen.
Is this more of that Rapture of the Deep stuff?
No, somehow I don't think so.

Jacky. It's me. Little Mary Faber from the Rooster Charlie Gang. Do you 'member me?

Of course, I remember you, Mary. You're never far from me, you know that.
I pick up an ingot and thrust it into the bag with the rest. That's enough for this load, I'm thinking, so I give the line three sharp tugs. The net bag and its contents whisk up out of sight. I know it will return shortly, empty and waiting.

There's a lot of gold down 'ere, Jacky. Look at it all. Just lyin' there.

I know, Mary.

We should 'ave some of it, too. For ourselves, like. You know we should.

I give a kick and pop back under the bell for a breath. As I gulp it and several others, I'm thinking,
No, it's not the Rapture, girl. It's my own greed talking to me, and she is very persuasive.

I duck back out to resume the work, but I find my inner imp out there is still waiting for me.

They took our ship, Jacky. They took the
Nancy B.
They took our little schooner that we named after our mother. They think they own us, but they don't. They do owe us, Jacky, they do.

I know, Mary, I know, but how—

See that bunch of fan coral there? Behind it is a little cave in the rocks. You spotted it before; you can't deny it. It'd be ever so easy to put some there. Just a bit. No one would ever know. But you would know, wouldn't you? And so would I, and we could find our way back sometime later.

But—

But, nothin'. This is the biggest stand of coral down here. It stands out like a sore thumb—how could you miss it? And up top you took the compass bearings from the land points, so
you know where we are. You could get back here, you know you could.

I don't say anythin' to that. I just float there ... thinking.

Jacky,
entices the little temptress,
remember the
Emerald,
our fine, fine brigantine bark and how much you loved her? Ah, Jacky, you could have another just like her, you could. You could ... You could gather the lads again—Liam, Padraic, Arthur McBride, John Reilly, and all the rest and sail off again to far ports of call to see all the wonders of this world, you could ... You could ... You could...

That cuts it.

I take my spear stick, swim over behind the fans, and poke it around in the shallow cave to roust out any creatures that might be dwelling within. Several things skitter out, but nothing large nor poisonous enough to do me damage, so I head back and look down at the pile of gold that glows beneath me. I pick up an ingot and carry it to the undersea safe hold of Faber Shipping Worldwide, and I put it in.

Good girl, Jacky. Good girl.

I don't know just how good I'm being, but they did sink my
Emerald,
they did.

After all, this gold doesn't belong to King Georgie. It belongs to the Spanish, so the King is stealing, too, Jacky. That's the way I sees it.

All right, Mary, now get lost and let me get this done.

Goodbye, Jacky...

Back for a breath, and then I get on with it. No rest for the weary...

...nor for the wicked.

Little Mary had a good idea, but I've got a lot better one.

We completed that day's morning dives and had lunch on the mess deck, and when we were finished, I arose from the table and asked Tink and Davy to go with me down into the bilges, while preparations for the afternoon dives were being made. I said that I thought I had noticed a seam opening up next to the
Nancy's
keel on my last dive, though I had noticed no such thing, of course. I just needed to get the lads down somewhere private so we could talk. The fewer people who know about this the better—as Ben Franklin once said, "Three men can keep a secret, if two of them are dead."

I got a lantern and led the way down into the bowels of my little schooner. When we got down to the absolute bottom, where the heavy lead ingots of our lead ballast lay, I stopped and put the lantern down.

"I don't see no leak," says Davy, casting his eyes about in the gloom. "Looks tight as a drum t'me."

"Davy. Tink. Put your fists on your tattoos. I did not bring you down here to talk of leaks. Swear you will say nothing of this."

"So sworn," says Tink, putting his hand on his hip. "What are you up to, Jacky?"

I lean into the glow of the lantern. "What do you think I'm up to, mates? Gold, that's what. We have been bringin' up a lot of it, and there's lots more down there, ready to be grabbed."

"So?" asks Davy. "What are we poor seamen to think of that?"

"You should think that maybe it shouldn't all go to good King George. It's Spanish gold. It ain't his. Right? A good part should go to him, for Merrie Olde England and all that, but some should come to us, too!"

"To us?" asks Davy.

"Right. To Faber Shipping and—"

"How sick I am of hearing that name pronounced."

"...and you'll all get your proper share," I say, getting steamed. "Have I not been generous in all of my dealings with you?"

I know Tink agrees, having been down and out very recently, but Davy, as always, is a lot more stubborn. I press on.

"Wouldn't you and Annie like to buy a nice little cottage to raise your children in? Wouldn't you?" I say. "And Tink, what do you want out of this world? A life at sea? The respect of your comrades? A tidy wife, maybe?"

"All right, Jacky-O," says Davy, hunkering down.

"What's the scam, then?"

"This is it," I say, hunkering down myself. "Tink, inside the bell is a heavy wood bench, as you know since you have both sat upon it. It is a single plank, going from one side to the other. About two inches thick. I want you to put in another thick board below it—to make it look like it was put there to lend strength to the top plank. Add stain and varnish so no one will notice the change. Nobody but me goes in there, anyway, so who's gonna notice?"

"That's easy enough," says Tink. "But what good—"

"I'll tell you what good. Around the back of that seemingly innocent board, you're going to hollow out a slot that you will make with your chisels and gouges. And then I'm going to slide in ingots of gold—cobs, they are called—each one ten pounds of pure gold and each one enough to keep you in fish, chips, and ale for a hundred years."

There are two sharp intakes of breath.

"Make it so that I will be able to fit in ten cobs a day. Davy, you and Tink will be able to retrieve them in the dark of night, when the bell is stowed down in the fore hatch. King George will be getting five to any one of ours, but so it goes. There's a lot down there. I'll put most of the flashier stuff, like the crosses and the goblets, into the King's stash, but a good number of the ingots will come to us."

I turn again to Tink.

"You've got to use your brace and bits, augers, screws, whatever you've got, but no hammers—we can't have any noise. Tilly or the Doctor might wake up and find you messin' with the bell."

"They could hang us for this. You're already in some trouble with the Crown," says Davy.

"I don't see us gettin' caught for this. And as for me, might as well be hanged for a wolf as for a lamb, I always say."

"What do we do with the gold when we get it up?"

"Well, you, Davy, will disguise the cobs, then we will hide them in plain sight. We have both white and black paint on the ship, so after you mix up a lead color and paint them, you'll stash them under here. They'll look just like the lead ingots we're already using as ballast."

Davy gives out a low chuckle. "Very crafty, Jack-O."

"I hope so, Davy."

"I'll have the shelf in tonight, Jacky, count on it," says Tink, smiling, the white of his teeth gleaming in the light of the lantern. "Looks like old King George might be givin' poor John Tinker his rightful pension after all."

"So we are agreed, then? So say ye one. So say we all."

"Yes," says Tink.

"Yes," adds Davy.

"Good lads," say I. "Then it is done."

The plan is going well.

Over the past week, we have hauled up a king's ransom in gold and jewels, which will swell the coffers of King George III most admirably ... and fifty fat gold ingots now lie nestled safely with the lead ingots in the hold of the
Nancy B. Alsop.
Life is good, and the future looks even better.

I did not completely empty out my underwater stash. In fact, I added to it—twenty more golden ingots and several likely looking small chests were put into the little watery cave. I mean, suppose, God forbid, that the
Nancy B.
should be lost—to a storm or to pirates—where would we be then? Broke is where, with no ship and no gold. Nay, best to leave a nice cache here. I could always find the spot again, should the need arise.

Ten more gold cobs are stashed in the bench of the bell for Davy and Tink to put away in the dead of night, and I ride up from the last dive of the day.

Earlier, I was not pleased to find that Lieutenant Flashby had been assigned to supervise today's take. I assigned Joannie to keep an eye on him, to make sure he didn't pocket any of the booty. It turns out that he had the very same suspicions of me.

I take the towel to dry off and am ready to go into my cabin when Flashby speaks up.

"How do we know she is not squirreling away coins and jewels in her ... garb?" He looks me over. "She does have a history of chicanery. I think she needs to be thoroughly searched."

"What? How could I possibly hide anything under this suit?"

"Small but very valuable things such as gold coins and precious jewels are easily concealed on the female form, as I am sure you realize," he says with the slightest hint of a leer.

"Sir, I must protest most vigorously!" says Dr. Sebastian, outraged.

"I am merely exercising caution, Doctor. She does have a checkered past."

I go at Flashby claws extended, but a calmer head intervenes.

Higgins steps between us and says, "Surely you cannot be serious, Sir. Miss Faber is a fellow member of our Service and a person of honor. If she swears that she has no purloined gold on her person, then we must believe her."

I know that ain't gonna be enough for the vile Flashby, so I fluff up, put on the Lawson Peabody Look, glare at the villain, and say, "I swear that I have no purloined gold or jewels or anything of value upon my person. To set your mind at ease, I will ask Mr. John Higgins, who is also a member of our fine Service and a man of impeccable honor, to help me dress for dinner. Are your fears now at rest,
Sir?"

Flashby just barely nods his head.

"Very well, then," I say coldly, turning abruptly away from him and heading for my cabin. "Mr. Higgins, if you would assist me?"

"Damn that Flashby!" I strip off my suit and fling it aside. "See, Mr. Intelligence Agent—no gold, no jewels, just me.

All right?"

"Of course, Miss, I expected no other, and, yes, Mr. Flashby can be an annoyance. If you will get into the tub?"

I slide gratefully into my little metal tub ...
Ahhhhh
... and lean back and close my eyes. It's been a long day.

"I should've just killed him when I had the chance, and I would have been done with it."

"I know that you are not by nature a murderess, Miss. Please duck your head under."

I stick my head between my knees and come up with water streaming over my face. Higgins puts the soap to my hair and massages it in with his strong fingers.

Ahhhhh...

"Do not ever think that Mr. Flashby has forgotten that time on the
Belle of the Golden West,"
Higgins continues, "when you made him walk the plank, he soiling his pants in the certainty of his coming death while you prodded him along at sword point."

"I don't care. He had it coming. Buying the scalps of innocent men, women, and children. It makes me sick to even think of it."

"Rinse, please."

I duck my head under again and ruffle my hair with my fingers to free it of the suds.

I emerge and am handed the soap and a washcloth and proceed to wash my arms, legs, feet, and various parts, and then I lean forward for Higgins to scrub my back, a luxury I particularly enjoy.

I cannot stop breathing out luxurious
ahhhhs.

There's a knock on the door and I call out, "Who?"

"It's me," answers Joannie.

"Come in, then."

Joannie enters, bearing a large kettle of hot water. She glances at Higgins and then pours the water between my feet, which are sticking out of the end of the tub.

Yet another
ahhhhh.

Bathing in the early evening has become a common practice with us, the expedition's two divers. Joannie also had spent a good deal of time in the water today, as she and Daniel had taken the lifeboat and sailed in close to shore to gather shellfish, and now she needs the salt rinsed off her. Her hair is as stiff with salt as mine had been. She peers doubtfully down at the soapy water. "You didn't let loose in there with that Brother Rabbit trick, did you?"

I reach out to swat her with the wet washcloth, but she is too agile and I miss.

"No, I did not, because I am a lady, which you ain't, not by a long shot. Now get your tail in this tub."

Saying that, I stand up, take the towel that Higgins holds up, and step out of the bath.

As I dry off, Joannie, by now well used to Higgins's presence at times like these, doffs her suit and climbs into the tub.