Waterman’s Knot

Lucky pushed his face against the smooth deck and peered out from under the dory. “There’s a crowd of people coming over the bridge.”

“Let me see.”

He moved so Daniel could look. Already the hum of voices echoed over the water.

“They’re coming down the wharf. I can’t believe—”

“Who?” Lucky pushed to get a look.

“Workers from the mill!”

A gull cried overhead. Delph?

“What business have you here?” the captain called down to the crowd assembling on the wharf.

“We’d ask the same of you, sir.” Lucky thought he recognized the voice of the abolitionist speaker at the antislavery meeting.

“In port to supply my ship for a whaling voyage,” the captain said. “Not that it’s any of your affair.”

“We have reason to believe otherwise, and ask your permission for several of our number to board and search your ship.”

“Permission denied,” Jessup’s high voice rang out.

“You stand accused of waylaying lawful citizens of this district,” the abolitionist leader called.

“’Tis a fact!” came Emmeline’s voice.

“My boarder, Lucky Valera, went missing last night.”

Mrs. Cabral!

“And two of our number, mulespinners at the mill.”

The crowd clamored and pressed in.

“We mean to search this ship!” the stevedore shouted.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Jessup snapped.

“Then you’ll neither leave this ship, nor have any supplies or provisions delivered.”

Lucky felt a slight shift of the deck beneath them. “The captain’s preparing to sail,” he whispered to Daniel.

The attention of the crowd seemed to have turned. A hush fell as the sound of hoofbeats got closer, then stopped nearby. A horse whinnied.

“Thornton Jessup, you are a known kidnapper, recently thwarted from going about your evil business on the streets of Boston,” called a deep voice Lucky didn’t recognize.

“Who are you to make such an accusation?” the captain demanded.

“I am Abermarle Mayhew of the Boston Vigilance Committee.” Lucky sucked in a breath. Emmeline’s uncle!

“Mayhew!” Jessup voice was a sneer. “Unlike you, I’m a law-abiding citizen. I am authorized by the law to retrieve stolen property from these parts. Harboring fugitive slaves is against the law. The Fugitive Slave Law says I’m allowed to collect them.”

“You’ll find no satisfaction on these shores, Jessup. Most of the fugitives you seek have made safely away to Canada. You’ll hand over the others or not be permitted to leave this port.”

“That’s what you think, Mayhew.” Jessup drew a pistol from his belt. “Any of you touches this ship, and I’ll fire in self defense.”

“Hold the lines!” someone shouted. “They mean to flee.”

“Now,” Lucky said.

But when they tried to lift the dory, it wouldn’t budge. Someone was standing firmly on the gunwale, trapping them. There came a shuffling sound, and darkness engulfed them as a sail came down over their hiding place!

“Help!” Lucky cried.

“Here!” Daniel called.

“Cap’n Mayhew,” they yelled together, but already Lucky could feel the ship in motion, slipping her lines and surging toward the mouth of the harbor amid the shouts of the onlookers.

“Look,” a woman’s voice cried above the din. “It’s a fugitive!”

A large splash followed.

Lucky turned to Daniel. “That would be Fortuna.”

“They say rats leave a sinking ship,” Daniel offered.

“He can’t swim,” a woman yelled. “Somebody fetch him out!”

There was commotion on the wharf.

Lucky shot up, his head hitting the side of the dory. Could it be that the mighty Fortuna didn’t know how to swim?

The voices on shore dimmed as the ship quit the harbor. The currents ran hard.

Light appeared as the dory was lifted off Lucky and Daniel. “What have we here?” Jessup’s smile was tight.

“We should have left them, Jessup!” the captain said. “Why didn’t you tell me they were still aboard before we sailed?”

“I have unfinished business with this one,” Jessup said, the toe of his boot jabbing at Daniel. Lucky peered over to see that his friend’s face had gone expressionless again.

The captain cursed under his breath. “They’re bad luck. We should set ’em adrift in that dory.”

But Jessup wasn’t having it. Instead, the boys were bound again and returned to the hold.

For a long time, Lucky and Daniel crouched back-to-back in the dark. Whether from an empty stomach, the pitch blackness, or a combination of the two, Lucky’s guts heaved with each surge and sway of the ship.

Lucky figured that it had been more than an hour since they’d left New Bedford. Though the wind was stiff and the sails full, the rigging still held.

“I must not have cut deep enough,” Lucky said, keeping his head between his knees.

“Probably my fault,” Daniel offered. “I’m not as good with a knife as you are.”

“It’s not your fault! I was the one with the fool idea.”

“Cutting the rigging was a fine idea.”

“It was all for nothing.”

“Not for nothing. We did the best we could with what—”

“I know, I know,” Lucky said. “But it wasn’t enough.”

“We did the best we could. Least we can look back with a clear conscience.”

“I guess you’re right, but that won’t do us much good where we’re going.”

They sat in silence and Lucky wondered at the feel of the ship gliding through the waves, the gentle sway of the hull and the sound of the wind in the sails. He felt for Emmeline’s brooch, still pinned to the inside of the bodice, and realized he’d not get the chance to return it to her as he’d dreamed of doing. Would he ever even see Emmeline again? His throat ached and he rubbed the pin against his thumb to distract his thoughts. But it was no use. The knot of gold felt brittle and warm, accusing.

“You all right?” Daniel asked.

“You could have jumped when you’d climbed back down from the mizzenmast. Why didn’t you?” Lucky said.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Job wasn’t done yet.”

“Not done.”

BOOM! The hold vibrated with a hot and hollow sound. Then came a tremendous splash from the starboard side. Lucky and Daniel sat straight up, bumping heads. A cannon!

The ship changed tack and they braced against each others backs to keep their balance.

“Do you think?” Lucky asked but then hushed to better hear the voices above deck.

“They’re gaining!” Jessup shouted.

“Loosen the battens and hoist the jibs,” the captain called. “Ready on the braces.”

“Faster, you idiots!” Jessup yelled.

“We can outrun them,” the captain cried. “We’re the faster ship!”

“You’d better be right. We’ve fugitives to collect in Providence come nightfall.”

“I’ve more at stake than you, Jessup! I’ll lose my ship if they come onboard and find we’re a slaver. You should have let them boys go! This is a problem of your making!”

All of a sudden, there was a loud ripping sound followed by a bone-jarring thud.

Lucky jumped to his feet. “Could it be?” He strained to hear what was going on above deck, his legs tensed for clues in the movement of the ship.

“What in the name of—” the captain shouted above. “The rigging on the mainsail’s failed!”

Already the boat had slowed. Daniel let out a low whistle.

“Pull in the mizzen, boys, pull for all you’re worth!” the captain shouted.

Another crash made the deck vibrate.

“The mizzen’s gone, too, Cap’n!”

Lucky’s chest felt full enough to burst. They’d done it! “Did you hear that?” he said.

“What is it?” Daniel asked.

“The sound of freedom.”