The Stowaway

VIII

Eliza was many things. Foolish, reckless and spontaneous being just a few, but boer or not, she was nota flirt. "But my second name is not Lee," she countered.

"Oh, Eliza Lee all on my knee!" sang Cian as he went back to the helm. "Ah he, ah ho, are you most done? Was as pretty a sight as any could see! So the clear track, let the bulgine run."

His voice was booming and jolly, and Eliza immediately smiled, feeling a little foolish. Eliza Lee was a song!

Another sailor, one that Eliza did not yet know the name of, came up to them with a large rope strung over his shoulder. He joined in, singing, "Oh, I said, "My dear, will you be mine?", ah he, ah ho, are you most done? Her answer was sweeter than sweetest of wine, so the clear track, let the bulgine run!"

Eliza beamed with delight as she listened to the men's voices boom Eliza Lee. She would own that name with pride.

She quickly noticed as she went about the day that the men sang a variety of different songs, including Eliza Lee, as they went about their tasks and chores. They seemed to pace their actions to the rhythm, often resting during verses and performing arduous, tiring responsibilities when the chorus came around.

Sea shanties had purpose, it seemed, and Eliza delighted in seeing them in action.

After observing and enjoying the atmosphere on deck, Eliza went back below into the cargo hold to make sure it was as clean as it could possibly be. She fetched a fresh pail of water and mopped again, all the while engaging in conversation with the goats. She felt terribly that the poor things were trapped in with the smell.

It certainly was not as bad as it had been that morning, but it was not gone. Eliza straightened up and collected her possessions that she had left out to dry.

The pages of her book were entirely ruined. The paper was drying all crinkly and distorted, and unfortunately the ink had run, and the words were erased on a great number of the pages. No matter, she was living the adventure now. She did not need it.

Eliza pocketed her money and jewellery, as well as her little sewing kit. It had been quite fortuitous that she had thought to bring one as she would most definitely need to adjust the shirt and the breeches she was wearing. She would only put in temporary stitches. Captain Buckley's garments would be returned to him as good as new.

The sun began to set and out the circular window, Eliza could see the stars coming out in the sky. Oh, how magnificent! She had never seen such a clear sky!

Eliza pet the goats and then raced up on deck to get a better look. She was immediately greeted with a vast, endless sky of stars. The sky and the sea met seamlessly, and the world suddenly seemed to be much bigger and much wider than before.

Her attention was quickly captured by the flicker of flames and the sounds of the men gathering around the galley for their dinner. As if on cue, Eliza's stomach grumbled. She had not eaten a thing since yesterday. Should she risk it? Eggs' ginger tea's effects might wane, and she would be as ill as she was the night before.

Her stomach grumbled again and told her to risk it. She was hungry. Eliza's ears pricked up when she heard the sound of whistling. Who was whistling? Did they not know it was bad luck?

She found herself standing in a newly formed line as the men waited for their supper.

As she edged closer to the front of the line, Eliza saw that it was the cook, the same man who discovered her that morning, who was whistling away, while he son, Eggs, served.

"Why is he allowed to whistle?" she asked allowed.

"Because if Cookie is whistling, he's not eating," answered a voice from behind her. She turned to see Cian and Diarmuid, both of whom had joined her in the line. "He is the only one who is allowed to whistle on board this vessel."

Eliza grinned. What weird and wonderful folk sailors were. When she reached the front of the line, Eggs cheerfully presented Eliza with a cup of water and a dish of salted meat, boiled potatoes, cabbage, and a hard sort of flat bread that she had not seen before.

It was the most unappetising meal that she had ever seen, but she accepted it with a thank you and a smile. She noticed that the men had situated themselves about the main deck, sitting in small groups as they hungrily ate.

Eliza sat herself down at the edge of the ship, leaning back against the rail. She crossed her legs and placed her dish in her lap. One by one, each of the sailors received their meal. Then Cookie and Eggs helped themselves to their own supper. Then, and only then, did the captain emerge from his quarters to take his dinner last.

How curious, Eliza thought, but chivalrous. It was apparent by the merriment and the smell that had begun to permeate the air that she was the only one with a cup of water. The men were clearly drinking.

But not the captain. He did not take any rum. He, too, had a cup of water to drink with his supper. He took his meal back up to the helm and ate by himself, overlooking his men.

Eliza was not at all surprised that she was not given a drink of rum. After having wasted a portion of one of the barrels, she was certain the men would not gift her any to drink. No matter. If she ever tasted that drink again in her lifetime it would be too soon.

Eliza ate her dinner while she watched and observed. Using this time to watch everyone helped to mask the taste of the bland food she was eating. It really was not all that bad, but she was used to finer cuisine. But adventure left a better taste in one's mouth than any amount of cabbage.

After half an hour or so, Eggs came around to collect the dishes from everyone, and the men began to retire for the night, leaving only a few on deck for the night duty. The sailors were early risers.

She was bid a drunken goodnight by several of the men that she had had the pleasure of meeting throughout the day. Many of whom were not calling her Eliza Lee.

Eliza was suddenly left with a conundrum. Where was she to sleep? She could not very well sleep in the cargo hold. That was where food was stored. Of course, the crew were meant to sleep all together in the hammock room that Eliza had seen below deck. Was she to sleep there as well? Was that wise? Was that safe?

What choice did she have?

Eliza began to follow the men towards the ladder that led down below deck. Before it was even her turn to descend, a strong hand gripped her upper arm once again.

Captain Buckley had left his post and had come down to grab her rather forcefully as he pulled her back up to quarters for the second time in one day. He opened the door and released her, pushing her, albeit gently, towards his bed.

"Get in," he instructed.

Eliza rounded on him, eyes wide with shock and disgust. "I beg your pardon!" she exclaimed. "You, sir, are not going to touch me!"

For the first time in the short time that she had known Captain Buckley, she saw softness, only for a fleeting moment, before his facial expression turned hard once again.

"Miss Banes, I will not take offense to such a grievous misjudgement of my character this time," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Whether I like your presence on my ship or not, you are now my responsibility. It is not proper or right for a woman to sleep in a room full of men. You will sleep in here, and that's that."

Eliza blinked. She had not been expecting such a response. She had insulted his character in making such a common assumption. Were she not so surprised, she would have felt guilty.

"Where will you sleep, Captain?" Eliza asked quietly.

Captain Buckley did not respond. He looked at her one last time with his hard, black eyes, before turning away from her and leaving her alone in the cabin.

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#SaveAnneWithAnE #renewannewithane

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