because he was echoing a phrase that Captain Wilkes was overfond of repeating. âTo the Antarctic and the Pacific,â he elaborated.
She clasped her hands in the lush hollow of her lap and said, âTo the Pacific islands?â
âAye.â
âOh, how do I envy you!â
âWhy?â
When her lips parted he expected her to say something about the romance of tropical paradises, but instead she confided, âOnce I knew a young man from the south Pacific who told me wonderful tales of the land of his birth.â
Forsythe frowned. âA Kanaka?â
â Kanaka? What is that?â
âA nativeâan islander from the Pacific. Youâd recognize him by his brown skin,â Forsythe said ironically.
She looked at Captain Reed, her expression oddly taunting, and then back at Forsythe. âHis skin was brown, yesâa warm gold, and very smooth, like satin. He was very handsome. His face creased up into an absolute picture of humor when he laughedâjust so.â Annabelle lifted her fingers and pulled her cheeks upward and outward into an urchin grin, while her dark eyes sparkled wickedly.
Jesus Christ, thought Forsythe without returning the smile, what the hell was she telling him? Anger stirred, and he demanded, âAnd did this native inform you that the Pacific islands pose a danger for Americans? That every year whaleships from Nantucket and New Bedford are cut out by treacherous Kanakas, and whole crews of Salem traders are trapped and slaughtered?â Turning to Reed, he exclaimed, âYou told me you reckon the American taxpayer is funding a senseless missionâthat the exploring expedition is just an expensive joke! Waâal, jest let me inform you, sir, that we will fly the U.S. flag in a thousand lagoons, and teach those bloody upstart Kanakas to respect it! Weâll seize the bloody perpetrators, and hang âem if necessary; weâll burn down their villages, and learn them a lesson. Our job is to make the Pacific safe for shipmasters like you, sir!â
âAnd Iâm right glad to hear it!â Captain Reed replied with spirit. âWhy didnât you tell me that before, you bloody fool?â he demanded, his tone jocular rather than insulting, and leaned forward to top up their tumblers. âFor too many goddamned years the East India Marine Society has been lobbying for ships of war to patrol the Pacific, with no response at all from those jackasses in our government! My God, friend Coffin will be glad to hear of this!â Reed cried, and swigged brandy with gusto.
Forsythe and Kingman drank deeply, too, but at the same time they looked at each other with identically lifted brows. Then Zack lowered his glass to query, âCoffin?â
âAyeâCaptain William Coffin, who has made many a journey to Washington to talk those jackasses into understanding the hazards that the pioneers of American commerce face. Heâs a Salem man himself, who knows from personal experience what itâs like to lose a portion of his crew to bloodthirsty cannibals. By God, heâll be pleasedâI wonder if he knows it?â
Again, Forsythe and Kingman exchanged looks. Then the girl interrupted. âBut how will you know that you punish the right natives?â
Forsythe blinked and said, âWhat?â
âPerhaps you will punish the innocent, not being able to distinguish them from the guilty. Perhaps to you they all look alike?â Her tone was derisive. âAnd even if you can tell one from another, it is certain that you cannot understand their speech, and therefore they cannot plead for themselves. So how can you know that you are dealing out justice, instead of committing crimes of your own, and disgracing the American flag?â
Forsythe bit out angrily, âWe have a linguisterâa translatorâon board.â
âWiki Coffin,â said Zack helpfully.
âWiki!â she exclaimed. Her mouth
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