The next day, Ingram looked up from his table in the Great Room, where he’d been working on updating his ship’s log, and saw Arbuthnot come in.
“The General is much better today,” the surgeon said. “He has asked to speak to the captain of the ship.” He smiled. “That would be you, I believe.”
“Good. I will go immediately to see him. He’s still in sickbay?”
“Yes. Shall I ask Colonel Black to join us?”
“Yes. I will send someone to fetch him. But in the meantime, let us go see him and Colonel Black will catch up.” Ingram gave an order to find Black to a seaman, and they headed down to sickbay.
On the way, Arbuthnot briefed him on Washington’s condition: finally awake most of the day, no longer shivering, pulse rate steady, skin not clammy anymore and back to a normal colour. Eating voraciously.
At the door to sickbay, they encountered the two marines who were guarding the entrance. They saluted Ingram, and he saluted back. Then he stopped in his tracks, turned, faced them directly and said, “Starting now, no one besides Mr. Arbuthnot and his mate is to enter the room without my permission. Colonel Black may come in if someone else is here.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” they said in unison and saluted again.
When they walked in, Washington was sitting in a chair at a small table, eating. He was wearing his uniform, which had been restored to a semblance of clean. He looked directly at Ingram’s shoulder boards, where his commander’s rank was displayed, and wobbled to his feet.
“Good morning, Captain,” he said and said nothing more, clearly waiting, Ingram thought, for him to initiate a salute to acknowledge Washington’s superior rank.
“Before I salute you, sir, please tell me who you are.”
“General George Washington, Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army of the United States.”
“How do I know this to be true?”
“I suggest you enquire of Colonel Black, who I now seem to recall captured me, and I am told is on this ship.”
A voice from the doorway said, “I captured him at his headquarters. Unless they were using a double, he speaks the truth as to who he is. But I see no reason to salute him, Captain. His army is not the army of a country recognized by anyone.”
A wry smile swept across Washington’s face. “Unless, Colonel Black, you don’t consider France to be a country. They recognized my country three years ago.”
Ingram glanced briefly at Black, looked back to Washington, raised his hand to his forehead and saluted. “Welcome aboard, General. Unfortunately, you are a prisoner, so we will need to establish some rules of conduct while you are aboard my ship.”
“What type of prisoner am I?”
“A prisoner of war, as far as I am concerned. But Colonel Black—” he gestured at him “—believes you are simply a captured rebel.”
“What do you propose with regard to rules of conduct, Captain?” Washington said.
“First, when you are feeling well again, you are most welcome to dine with me and my officers in the wardroom.”
“Thank you.”
“Second, you will be given a berth commensurate with your rank, but you will be guarded at all times by at least two marines, sometimes four.”
“I give you my word, if you will parole me to go when and where I wish unguarded, that I will not try to escape, damage your ship or crew or otherwise harm your mission.”
“Perhaps in time,” Ingram said. “But for now the marines must go with you. We have at least four weeks to work out a different arrangement.”
“I understand, Captain. But I will nevertheless pledge, on my honour, not to try to escape the ship, in the hope that you will soon parole me to go where I wish.”
“Thank you, General. I will count on your pledge. Now I must take my leave. I trust that Mr. Arbuthnot has been taking good care of you?”
“Indeed he has.”
He saluted Washington. “Good day, General.”
As they left sickbay, Black said, “Captain, there’s something I want to say to you, and it is with all due respect.”
“What?”
“Washington tried to escape when we were bringing him to the beach. And when he supposedly fell out of the boat in rough sea, I think he actually jumped out and was trying to swim back to shore.”
“I have heard that. And so?”
“I have a sense that he is up to something.”
“Like what?”
“I wish I knew.”
“Well, one thing I know for sure. There is absolutely no way for him to escape from here.” He gestured at the ship’s hull. “Yonder lies only the sea.”
* * *
Each day since his visit to sickbay, Ingram had seen Arbuthnot in the wardroom at least once a day when the officers sat down to their evening meal. And each day, he had asked the surgeon the same question: “How goes General Washington?” Each day he had received the same response: “Ever stronger, eating well, gaining weight.”
On their eighth day at sea, Ingram was standing on the bridge, looking out to sea and wondering how long their good weather and good winds would last. Suddenly, Arbuthnot appeared beside him. He saluted and said, “Captain, General Washington has asked me to convey a message to you.”
“What is it?”
“He says that if your invitation to dine with the officers in the wardroom is still open, he would like to accept for this evening.”
“Please tell him he is most welcome. We will expect him for the evening meal.”
“He asks, also, if his marine guards must accompany him everywhere.”
“Inhospitable as it is, the answer is yes.”
“Will you notify Colonel Black?”
“I suppose it’s only proper.” He grinned. “After all, he does outrank me.”
“I’ve noticed that he’s not been joining us for meals.”
“I know. I think on the days when he’s sick, the sight of food makes him ill at times. Have you been able to do anything for his condition?”
“I told him to spend as much time as possible on deck, in the breeze and looking out to sea. I also offered him a syrup made from five roots that has helped some people in the past, but he has declined to take it.”
“Did he say why?”
“Something about being poisoned at one point when he was seeking out Washington.”
Ingram raised his eyebrows. “Did he say by whom?”
“He declined to say.”
“I will have to discuss this with him. But come to think of it, why don’t you let him know about tonight’s dinner with General Washington. It would save me the duty and would be much appreciated.”
“I’d prefer you do it, Captain.”
“All right, I will.”
Ingram went to look for Black and found him again on the fantail. “Colonel Black,” Ingram said, “I want you to know that General Washington will be joining us in the wardroom for dinner this evening. I hope you will join, although if your seasickness prevents that, I would understand.”
“I’m at least somewhat better now that the sea is calmer, thank you,” Black said. “I will attend.”
“Good. I will meet you there, Colonel.”
Ingram walked away and went to look for his steward. He found him in the Great Room. “Please set the table tonight with the china mess plates.”
“They’re packed away in straw, Captain. We usually use the china only in port. Otherwise, as you know, we use the wooden plates, even for the officers.”
“I think the sea is calm enough to risk it.”
“Aye, aye, sir. I will get it done.”