Coming Aboard

"No!" he answered sulkily, his temporary good humor disappearing again.

"Suit yourself. Only I'll tell you 'bout me anyways. Gets borin' down here, see, and there's no point in not talkin' when there's two of us down here, and no officers to hear." He shrugged. "See, I'm from Chatham, me. Which is a garrison town, really, what with the Dockyard and fort an' all. Me mother's a whore when she can't make enough money shirt-makin', which is how I was born. An' bein' as there's Navy there, by the time I was 'bout fourteen, I knew I weren't goin' to be able to keep away from the Press forever, though I knew the place better'n they did. Only takes one unlucky moment, see. So I though that rather than get pressed, I was goin' to go along to the Marine barracks and take the shillin' - go to sea my way."

Strange fellow. "You always talk this much to your... prisoners?"

He shrugged. "You ain't my prisoner. I'm just standin' sentry. And there's precious little else to do down here. Less'n you want to be bored stiff. I don't have to talk if you don't want; I'm used to standin' sentry on me own without anyone to talk to, after all."

"Ain't you got a girl somewheres? A wife? Or your mother, don't you want to go back home to her and see she's took care of?" He ran his fingers through his hair again, tugging at it in great handfuls. "I shoulda let y'all run right into that reef. You woulda been grounded there, no harm to you, just your boat wrecked. But a boat's expensive. I coudn't stand by and see a group of idiots run their boat on a skerry, not if they was British or French or anyone. It's our river and we look after it. Friendliest folks in the world, Douro watermen, if you can understand what they're saying. But I shoulda listened to my wife. She knew a British boat meant trouble."

"I send money home for me mother. She ain't got anyone but me to look after her, not really. Least your wife's got her father, isn't that what your was tellin' her? To go home to her dad? An' you an write to her an' send her money, an' that's got to help, ain't it." He frowned. "I s'pose you can write," he said, doubtfully. "Or there's folks as can write for you, if you can't."

Perry frowned, trying to remember what he had said. "You speak Portuguese?"

"No, but you said summat about 'papa' or summat like that. Don't speak anythin' but English, me."

"Oh. Aye, I told her - hey, mate, who were those folks you left behind on the shore?" His face grew suddenly grave and anxious.

"They was passengers. An Army captain, a Navy surgeon an' a prisoner of war they brung aboard with 'em. All of 'em officers, an' gentlemen."

He covered his face with his hands. "I hope she did run home like I said. I told her to leave the boat, but... she's awful stubborn sometimes. That boat's our liveliehood." When he looked up, there was an anguished expression on his face. "I woulda took y'all upriver, if you'd asked. Why'd you gotta go and press me like that? I woulda let you keep the boat. But Madalena... If they hurt her, if they so much as touch her, I'll kill 'em. I swear I'll bloody kill them all. And that bastard who grabbed her. She never did no harm...!"

And that was the worst part of it, really. "Look, mate, I'm sorry, but it weren't my choice. An' when someone hails a Navy boat in English and then turns to high-tail it home, it's goin' to make folks suspicious, ain't it? I'm sure she'll be all right, though. An' like I said, them's officers. They don't go hurtin' women. She'll be fine."

"Officers are the bloody worst!" he shouted, kicking against the irons painfully. There were fierce tears on his cheeks now. It was no use talking to his own captor about it. He hid his face in his hands again, this time to truly weep.

"'M sorry," Thompson said awkwardly, and turned to stare at the wooden planking of the ship's side to give Perry a bit of privacy. It made him uncomfortable when grown men cried. His hand strayed unconsciously to his pocket and he brought out a clean rag. "Here," he said, offering it apologetically to the other man. "It's clean."

Without looking up, Perry told him what he could do with his rag.

"Suit yourself," Thompson answered and shoved it back into his pocket.

Perry was quiet a long while after that, imagining the worst and letting the tears run onto his sleeves, all the while silently damning the marine for seeing him so unmanned. Even if he had not run, they would have questioned him for his ability to speak English, the dirty sneaks. Now he knew. He had heard of Americans being pressed before, but he had never understood how blatant and pig-headed the British could be. And now they were out there with his wife, alone.

Finally he spoke again. "What are their names? Those officers you left behind, what are their names?"

"Captain Padstowe, and Doctor Maturin and I think the Frog is Captain day Sabbly-something. Didn't catch his name prop'ly, after all." He felt embarrassed at having seen the other man crying like that, but it was understandable, though that didn't make it any easier, of course.

"So he is a Frog," he muttered. "And a prisoner just like me. I hope he slits their throats."

"He's given his parole, an you'm goin' to be a seaman in His Majesty's Navy, an' get paid for it," Thompson objected.

"What parole have they given? Who's given parole to my wife? No one." His voice was blank now, lacking in expression. "I promised to protect her, always. And now when there's soldiers all over the bloody place on both sides the river, both sides thinking they're the conquerors of the land, entitled to the spoils of war, now's when I go and leave her."

Thompson sent a quick look around and came back down to the man' eye level. "Look, mate, there's a couple of things you ain't thinkin' of. One, you didn't up an' leave. Two, there's a war. If you got done by a stray bullet, from either side, how would you be able to help her? At least this way you can send her money. An', well, you could tell her to go to Lisbon to be safe."

He looked up at him sharply. "Lisbon? You reckon that's the safest place?"

Thompson considered. "I reckon that you'll feel better about her if you know she ain't around here no more. Lisbon's... Well, I never heared that the Frogs got anywhere near Lisbon, so I don't think it's likely they ever will."

Perry stared at him. "But the Spanish did. Are you daft? There's no place around here that's completely safe. And Lisbon's still crawling with you lot, ain't it." He sighed. The marine had a point though - at least Lisbon would not be in the middle of a battle at present. "I don't know if I could persuade her father - or her, really. The whole family business, and the family home... If they leave it'll be taken, looting and pillaging."