Leaving Terpsy.

Stephen blinked in confusion. "I do not understand what this man has done wrong," he said in a voice only for the midshipman's ear. "Would we not have been in a sad way if he had not warned us about the shore? Is it only because he ran that he is being taken up as a deserter?"

"But... but...!" Perry protested, all insolence now gone from his frightened face. "I'm an American! I ain't never been in your navy! I told you, I served on the Argonaut outta Nixonton! Captain and first mate gave me permission to stay! Ask my wife's father! Ask him! He's in Gaia!"

Kinsella looked grave. "Why else would he have run?" The midshipman asked, his voice low. He shook his head. "Even if he is not, I won't take the chance that he will inform the enemy of our presence."

"Whatever a first mate is, it don't sound good," Williams commented with a smirk.

Perry quickly explained the situation to his wife, who let out a shriek and a torrent of pleas.

The Tars stood by what the midshipman said. Most of them if not all. Seeing Perry's insolence rather disappearing of his face it was a small sort of victory. He'd be coming with them. Was only fair and right. Pressed into service was how many of them had come to be on that ship anyway.

Butcher looked at the girl who was tearing up and could find some pity for her and the man. Wouldn't change what his actions would have been though. Service and duty. That's what it was now.

The woman threw herself at Kinsella's feet, weeping. She could not have been much older than the midshipman, as young as she looked. She entreated him to have mercy, for her sake, for her love of her husband, for the love of God...!

Surprised, Kinsella took a quick step back. This whole situation was coming close to getting out of hand. "Tell her... your wife... to control herself," the midshipman stammered, struggling to recover his own composure.

Had it not been such a dire situation, Perry would have been highly amused to see the swaggering young junior officer undone by a woman's tears. As it was, he stood and gently brought his wife to her feet, coaxing her with gentle words. She turned and embraced him, weeping on his shoulder and throwing her arms protectively around him.

Chase rolled his eyes again. "Should we get him in the boat, sar?" The topman asked, pointedly glancing at Perry. They were wasting time lolly-gagging around with this whole thing.

Perry shook his head, looking from one forbidding face to the next. "You can't. You can't! It's against the law - it's kidnapping!"

"Complain to a judge," Williams grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

Kinsella had by now regained his composure. "It is not kidnapping. We believe you to be a deserter from His Majesty's Navy and therefore are entitled to return you to service. Marines." The midshipman looked at the redcoats. "Take charge of Mister Perry."

"It's a lie! It's piracy! Unlawful, kidnapping! I'm an American citizen, American!" He shouted and struggled as they tore him from his wife, but he attempted to calm himself for her sake, speaking urgently. "What ship is it? Where will you be taking me? Madalena, escute-me." He babbled to her in Portuguese, instructing her to tell her father, tell the magistrates, tell anyone in power, that he was being taken by a young officer named Kinsella, Daniel Kinsella. "Te amo. Deus a abençoe. Te amo!" he cried. The poor woman managed a last kiss before Frank Butcher finally pried her away.

It wasn't that Thompson approved of pressing men, or disapproved of it. It was a fact of life, and if you were taken up by a press-gang, hard cheese mate. The act that he'd enlisted in the Marines so as not to get pressed had nothing to do with it, and nor did the fact that he'd actually done sentry on the receiving ship at the Nore, shortly before being sent back to Chatham after the Peace thence to be sent to sea again.

At Mister Kinsella's words, he slung his musket and took the man's arm in a firm, though not rough, grip. "C'mon, mate, it ain't so bad," he said.

Stephen shared with worried glances with Padstowe, Raoul, and Yates. "Mister Kinsella, might we be allowed to depart?" He winced.

"Certainly, sir," Kinsella said, ignoring Perry's cries as he was hauled into the boat. The Tars got the man subdued quickly enough, which was a blessing.

"Shut it.. or we'll do it for you." Preddie looked at their near new addition to the crew. Butcher stayed by the girl but said nothing. What could be said? He'd been pressed into service and there was no promise he'd ever have lived to return, or returned at all.

Williams was grinning as he helped lash Perry to one of the benches in the boat. As a pressed man himself originally, he thought it was only right to be on this side of an impressment. "Get comfortable now," he said.

Some of the others laughed. Chase simply grinned slightly and joined Young in a casual drift toward Perry's strange little boat.

"You can't take me!" Perry protested as he struggled against his captors and now his bonds. He began to fear for his wife's safety as well. She would not be able to shove off in the boat by herself. They had seized him and now they were going to seize his boat and his cargo, but damned if they would take his wife as well. He shouted for her to run, run home, run now.

"Let her go," Kinsella said sharply when the woman broke away from a surprised Butcher. There was no sense chasing her down a second time. The midshipman pointed at the men drifting toward Perry's boat. "Leave that boat, we won't be taking it - or its cargo - with us."

The young woman had reached the top of the steep embankment, and realizing that no one was chasing her now, she stopped and looked back. Craning his neck around, Perry could still see her, so small and alone and it broke his heart. He could not wave, but he shouted "Te amo!" just once, and wept.

"Aw sir, can't we just take one or two cask, like he said we could?" Young asked the midshipman. "Better'n leaving it for the Frogs to find."

Padstowe and Yates had helped Stephen out of the boat, and the four stood awkwardly watching, Stephen staring numbly and clutching his leather bag. He had no idea what Padstowe intended to do now that they were on land.

Thompson found himself wedged in next to Perry. He shifted a little so that the socket of his bayonet wouldn't poke the newly-pressed man in the ribs, and shrugged a shoulder, offering him a sympathetic look. "Don't take it so hard, mate. There's worse places to be," he said, aware that might be cold comfort, especially coming from him.

Perry cursed the marine colorfully, but his heart was not in it. His earlier vehemence seemed to be replaced by a numb disbelief as the seamen set about preparing to depart.

Thompson shrugged. He'd heard worse, and had been called some pretty nasty things before, when doing sentry over the newly-pressed men on the Nore receiving-ship. "Best get used to it, mate," he said, allowing the man's language to affect him not at all.