and fierce. The only thing about your story that was not accurate, Captain Jack, is how the pirate became marked with those facial scars.""Oh?" Jack scoffed. "And how are you such an expert?""We met him," Tumen said, retur ning to his place at the wheel. Jack and the crew defeated the notorious Captain T orrents, whose anger was terrible.
Everyone turned toward the helm to stare at Tumen. Then a yowling sound filled the stunned silence. Constance leapt down from her hiding place behind the mainmast and landed right in front of Jack, finally showing her mangy self. She let out an angry but frightened hiss.
CHAPTER TWO
Jack's eyes narrowed as he stared at Constance. The shabby cat's tail flicked slowly, purposefully, as she stared back. For a moment there was a standoff. Then Constance let out another hiss; her back arched and she bared her teeth. Jean bent down and picked her up. "Ah, ma petite" he crooned to the flustered cat, petting her matted coat. "My sister is clearly nervous enough simply hearing Louis's name. Please don't make things worse for her, Jack. She's suffered enough." Jack smirked, then took off his bandana and brought it to his chest. "Please accept my most heartfelt apologies, m'lady," he said to the cat, with an exaggerated bow."Oh, enough already," Arabella said to Jack (and for that matter, to Constance, too). Arabella gazed up at Tumen, who rested a hand lightly on the wheel. "What do ye mean, you met Left-Foot Louis?" Arabella asked."Just as I said," Tumen replied. He relaxed against the helm, as the sails billowed and the ship made a steady course in the sea, which had calmed down considerably."Not only did we meet him," Jean said, "we faced him in battle. We barely escaped with our lives."Tumen nodded. "He is a fierce fighter."Jean p etted Constance a moment, then he glanced at Tumen as if he wanted his permission to tell the story. Tumen shrugged."It was not quite a year ago," Jean said, leaning against the rail and holding Constance tightly in his arms. "We made port in Martinique, and we were unloading the cargo. Precious stuff, those spices. Worth their weight in gold--literally. And quite handy to have on hand in the kitchen." He scratched Constance under the chin. "You do love your cumin and coriander in your Creole rice, don't you, ma soeur?""Get on with it," Jack barked impatiently."We were working with the longshoremen at the docks," Jean explained. He put Constance back down on the deck and she immediately licked her paws and began washing her face. "They seemed a rough and rugged band, but they often are, so I t hought no more about it. That work does tend to attract a hardened lot," Fitzwilliam commented, nodding. “How would you know?" Jack asked. "One whiff of the wharf and you'd probably faint."
"Would you let Jean speak?" Arabella complained. "Go on, Jean.""Thank you, mam'selle. We unloaded crate after crate," Jean continued. "The sweat beading on our brows, trickling down our backs. We were nearing the end of the load, and I was making my way down the gangplank balancing a trunk on my back. Constance, eager to see the town, I'm sure-- she's always so curious about far-flung places--dashed between my feet.""Jean fell," Tumen said."Vrai," Jean said with an embarrassed shrug. "I rolled all the way down the gangplank. And the n--this part is bad--the trunk crashed open when it hit the dock. Luckily, this trunk held none of the rare and precious spices we were carrying--it was part of the silk shipment. So I was relieved.""Relieved to have dropped silk?" Fitzwilliam asked."Silk doesn't break," Tumen explained."Still, anything ruined would come out of my miserly pay," Jean said. "I wanted to gather up the fabric before it could get dirty or torn.""I had already begun to collect the silk," Tumen said."But then all worries about my money flew out of my mind when I realized I'd fallen at the feet of the foreman. Mon Dieu! I would catch it for sure, now. The foreman would
Everyone turned toward the helm to stare at Tumen. Then a yowling sound filled the stunned silence. Constance leapt down from her hiding place behind the mainmast and landed right in front of Jack, finally showing her mangy self. She let out an angry but frightened hiss.
CHAPTER TWO
Jack's eyes narrowed as he stared at Constance. The shabby cat's tail flicked slowly, purposefully, as she stared back. For a moment there was a standoff. Then Constance let out another hiss; her back arched and she bared her teeth. Jean bent down and picked her up. "Ah, ma petite" he crooned to the flustered cat, petting her matted coat. "My sister is clearly nervous enough simply hearing Louis's name. Please don't make things worse for her, Jack. She's suffered enough." Jack smirked, then took off his bandana and brought it to his chest. "Please accept my most heartfelt apologies, m'lady," he said to the cat, with an exaggerated bow."Oh, enough already," Arabella said to Jack (and for that matter, to Constance, too). Arabella gazed up at Tumen, who rested a hand lightly on the wheel. "What do ye mean, you met Left-Foot Louis?" Arabella asked."Just as I said," Tumen replied. He relaxed against the helm, as the sails billowed and the ship made a steady course in the sea, which had calmed down considerably."Not only did we meet him," Jean said, "we faced him in battle. We barely escaped with our lives."Tumen nodded. "He is a fierce fighter."Jean p etted Constance a moment, then he glanced at Tumen as if he wanted his permission to tell the story. Tumen shrugged."It was not quite a year ago," Jean said, leaning against the rail and holding Constance tightly in his arms. "We made port in Martinique, and we were unloading the cargo. Precious stuff, those spices. Worth their weight in gold--literally. And quite handy to have on hand in the kitchen." He scratched Constance under the chin. "You do love your cumin and coriander in your Creole rice, don't you, ma soeur?""Get on with it," Jack barked impatiently."We were working with the longshoremen at the docks," Jean explained. He put Constance back down on the deck and she immediately licked her paws and began washing her face. "They seemed a rough and rugged band, but they often are, so I t hought no more about it. That work does tend to attract a hardened lot," Fitzwilliam commented, nodding. “How would you know?" Jack asked. "One whiff of the wharf and you'd probably faint."
"Would you let Jean speak?" Arabella complained. "Go on, Jean.""Thank you, mam'selle. We unloaded crate after crate," Jean continued. "The sweat beading on our brows, trickling down our backs. We were nearing the end of the load, and I was making my way down the gangplank balancing a trunk on my back. Constance, eager to see the town, I'm sure-- she's always so curious about far-flung places--dashed between my feet.""Jean fell," Tumen said."Vrai," Jean said with an embarrassed shrug. "I rolled all the way down the gangplank. And the n--this part is bad--the trunk crashed open when it hit the dock. Luckily, this trunk held none of the rare and precious spices we were carrying--it was part of the silk shipment. So I was relieved.""Relieved to have dropped silk?" Fitzwilliam asked."Silk doesn't break," Tumen explained."Still, anything ruined would come out of my miserly pay," Jean said. "I wanted to gather up the fabric before it could get dirty or torn.""I had already begun to collect the silk," Tumen said."But then all worries about my money flew out of my mind when I realized I'd fallen at the feet of the foreman. Mon Dieu! I would catch it for sure, now. The foreman would
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