Leaving Terpsy.

"No I don't bloody think so!" Chase burst out, scrambling up the beach toward the embankment. Williams was quick to follow him. Both of them ignored Mister Kinsella's shouted orders that they return to the boat at once. Whoever this strange fellow was, they were not about to let him simply wander off.

The man clutched his hat to his head and took off at a run, bounding over the rocks like a mountain goat. The young woman at his side shrieked and ran with him.

"Hey - Cob Chase! Where d'you think you'm goin'?" Thompson called, blinking as the sailor darted past him. Of all people, he'd thought Cob Cahse was the least likely to run.

Then he saw the man turn to run off. "You come back here!" the Marine called, giving chase himself, ignoring the protesting ache of his ankle as well as the shouts of the midshipman behind him.

The half-bent over scurry up the embankment reminded Chase why he preferred life at sea. It was much easier flying up the shrouds. Williams was right behind him, doing only slightly better with the severe angle of the ground.

There were more shouts behind them, most likely the Marines giving chase to them under the belief that the two seamen were attempting to run. Small chance of that, Chase thought derisively. Where the devil would they go?

"There he goes!" Williams gasped, managing to point at their quarry. Both sailors were panting from the effort of climbing the embankment, but it was nearly flat ground at the top.

Chase hauled himself upright. "Move it, or he'll go hull down!"

His chivalry was his undoing. The young woman at his side stumbled, and not stopping to think that of course she would be safe even if overtaken, the young man stopped to help her to her feet.

Thompson struggled up the embankment, wondering when it had got so hard to move uphill. He'd never had that struggle back home - but then, he supposed, it had been twelve years or more since he'd last run up to Rope Walk, or further, up to the Lines. Once they were on the flat though, the going was easier, especially for the shod Marines. And then the young lady stumbled and an extra spurt meant that the Marines got up to them at the same time the sailors did.

"What's goin' on here then?" Thompson demanded, looking down at them.

"Gotcha!" Chase cried, nearly bowling the man over in his zeal to grab hold of him. About time, too. Very much longer and neither seaman would have had the wind to keep running at that speed.

And then of course the Marines got there. Williams had taken hold of the woman's arms, which left Chase in charge of the man. "Pair of quick-footed sods," Chase replied, panting. "Figured they was spyin'."

Leave it to Thompson to try dashing off after the lighter-footed Tars. Ware rolled his eyes and stirred into a trot. "Bleedin' idiot," he grumbled to himself as he followed the still-injured Marine. The last thing they needed was to have Thompson hurt his foot again and have to be carried back aboard.

"C'mon now, you two damned Tars!" Ware called out as he struggled to the top of the embankment. It was harder to keep his balance and move forwards with one hand gripping his musket, but he managed. More embarrassing than his diffulty was the fact that Thompson made it to the top ahead of him. And him with a lame foot!

To his surprise, Chase and Williams were not far from the top of the bank. They had caught the man they'd chased. Ware spat on the ground and looked warily at the group. "Shouldn't go larkin' off like that, Chase. Somebody'll think you're runnin'."

"What's the big idea, guidin' our boat in an' then leggin' it hotfoot?" Thompson asked, scowling at the man in Chase's grasp. "C'mon, mate, let's let Mister Kinsella sort 'em out."

And Ware had caught up with them. Thank Heaven for that; Thompson might need to borrow his arm to lean on. His ankle hadn't liked that run one bit.

"You let go of her!" the man shouted, attempting a lunge at Williams. "Bastard, let go of her! That's my wife!" Chase was strong, but not as strong as the man's righteous ire, and he managed to swing a fist at Williams' eye.

"Here, clap a stopper on it!" Thompson said. "Ware, can you get his other arm? Might have to get me bayonet out, else, and that'd never do."

"Glad to," Chase growled and started to shove the man back toward the edge of the embankment. When his grip shifted however, the man took advantage and swung at Williams. The blow was half-successful; Williams stumbled back half a step, more surprised than genuinely hurt.

Despite the Marines' quickly grabbing hold of the man, Chase leapt onto him without hesitation and handily knocked him flat to the ground. "Sneaky bastard!" The topman cried, shoving the man's face into the dirt.

Thompson was there with his bayonet out. "Don't even think it, mate," he said, letting the man feel the point in his side, just enough to make him aware of it. "You're comin' along of us, nice an' easy now. Ain't you."

His grip on the man was only tenuous at best when Chase threw himself forward. The Tar's weight was enough to break both Marines' holds and carry both Chase and the poor fellow to the ground.

"Damn your hide, Chase!" Ware snapped, grabbing the seaman's shirt and hauling him roughly aside. "Leave this blaggerd to us, we got him now."

The poor young woman screamed. Williams had released his hold of her when he stumbled, but instead of running she now crouched down beside her young man, weeping and entreating the men to release him.

"Let go of me!" the man yelled in indignation, his mouth full of dirt and profanity. He thrashed wildly to free himself, cursing in colorful terms that affected the men holding him not at all.

"Not bloody likely after what you've just tried, mate," Thompson said. "You're comin' along of us to 'splain why you felt the need to leg it after guidin' our boat it."

"I got work to do, aint I? Can't stand about all day helpin' bloody fools that can't read a chart! How dare you touch my wife! Let go of me! You have no right - !"

Cursing, Chase tore himself out of Ware's grip and staggered to his feet. Williams had recovered from his brief surprise and renewed his hold on the woman, who was shrieking louder than a banshee.

"Shoulda stayed with the ship," Williams muttered, his cheek already beginning to swell.

Chase spat at the strange man's feet as Ware dragged him upright. "Let's let Mister Kinsella trouble himself with this noisy bastard."

"Unhand me. Whadyou want? I done you all a good turn back there!"

"An' then you went dashin' off like there was Frogs after you," Ware retorted, dragging the man forward, toward the edge of the embankment. He glanced back at Thompson, who was following close behind. "Might's well put your bayonet away for now, 'less this one needs pinnin' down proper."

Chase hung back behind the two Marines, ignoring them roundly. Williams was pulling the still-howling woman along as best he could.

"If this ain't a bloody disaster, I dunno what is," Chase grumbled to his mate, who only shrugged indifferently.

"An' shows I was right to, and wrong to help you lot!" the man shouted. "If this is how you treat good men 'n women, honest folk. Let go my wife! You get your dirty hands off her! Him," he said suddenly, noticing a tall thin amiable marine. "He can watch over her. She won't run, she's just scared! Lena, seja calmo. Todos serão bem!"

Ware scowled. "None of that babble, you. Better behave proper now, you're 'round officers."

"If it makes this lass stop her wailin', it's worth it," Chase pointed out, having moved a few paces away from the woman. She had lowered the volume of her protests but they hadn't completely stopped. At least now they were scrabbling their way down the embankment and were back within sight of the boat.

"If you hadn't gone harin' off in that way, we wouldn't have gone after you. Stands to reason, that," Thompson said, slipping his bayonet back into its scabbard. "'Stead, you went high tailin' it like all the Devils of Hell was after you. Ain't good manners, that ain't."

"I was just walkin' off normal like till he started chargin' after me," the man protested, glaring at Chase. "That ain't good manners, after I done you a good turn."

"Good manners," Chase sneered. "Good manners woulda been stayin' 'round t'help us git the boat ashore."