The Continental Risque by James Nelson

be open. He felt a sudden dread, like a cold draft. Whatever this was, he had no doubt it was bad.
    â€˜Hackett, this gentleman here is Jedadiah Huck. He wants to have a word with you,’ the sheriff said. Behind him was a middle-aged man, pudgy, red-faced, in some sort of uniform. On his head was a wig that might have been better discarded some years before.
    â€˜Amos Hackett?’
    Hackett glared at him for a long moment before saying, ‘I reckon you know who I am.’
    â€˜I understand that you’re an able-bodied seaman? Can hand, reef, and steer?’
    â€˜Aye.’
    â€˜Well, Hackett, pray allow me to explain the situation to you. You are to be brought up on some quite serious charges, I’m told. Hang you, I’ve no doubt. However, there might be a way to spare your life.’
    After another long silence, Hacket said, ‘Go on.’
    â€˜These colonies are on the verge of a great struggle with England over certain rights. The Continental Congress is putting together a navy of the United Colonies. They need able-bodied men such as yourself to join them. If you are willing to volunteer for the navy, we could see that you are pardoned of your crimes.’
    Silence again, and this time it lasted for some while. This could not be right. It was far too good to be true. Let him go simply for volunteering for some navy? Did this Jedadiah Huck know what crime he was accused of? No captain would want him on board a ship if he knew. But the offer had been made.
    â€˜That’s it? Join this navy and I’m pardoned?’
    â€˜If you are indeed an able-bodied seaman, yes. That’s it.’
    This navy might possibly be a right hell. He had heard stories of the British navy: floggings, hangings, lousy food. This Continental navy could be worse.
    But still it would not be worse than the darkness. As long as he was alive, there was hope, and as long as he was on shipboard, among a ship’s crew, there was a chance for even better.
    â€˜Very well, then. I’ll join.’
    â€˜I figured you might, Hackett,’ said the sheriff. ‘I’ll miss seeing you hang, but at least we’re free of you. But if you come back, I promise we’ll hang you when you do.’
    â€˜Hold a moment,’ Hackett said. The suspicion was back again. ‘Tell me again why you want me?’
    Huck cleared his throat. ‘Our colonies are locked in a battle for our freedom. We need every man we can get to defend our God-given liberties.’
    â€˜Oh, my arse,’ said Hackett. ‘Give it straight.’
    The pudgy man shrugged, deciding, apparently, that the truth would do no harm at that juncture. ‘Some gentleman … Lt Roger Tottenhill … gives me a dollar a head for each able-bodied man I recruit. I don’t give one damn what you done, as long as I get my head money. Once you report on board the ship, you’re his problem.’

C HAPTER 5
Philadelphia
    Someone was giving orders concerning the repairs on the
Charlemagne
’s bow, someone that Biddlecomb did not recognize. He, this stranger, was standing by the cutwater and waving his arms, apparently pointing out to the shipwrights how far back to strip the planking, and Biddlecomb was not pleased.
    The
Charlemagne
did not, at that moment, look like the third most powerful vessel in the navy of the United Colonies, though such she was. Rather she looked like a forlorn wreck, rolled over on her larboard side twenty yards from where he and Virginia stood.
    Three days before, they had pulled up to the yard of Wharton and Humphreys on a thankfully slack tide, standing on and off under topsails while another brig – Biddlecomb later learned it was the merchant brig
Sally
undergoing conversion into the United Colonies brig-of-war
Cabot
– was warped quickly out of the way.
    With her pumps working nonstop to keep up with the flow of water coming in around the fothered sail, an army of sailors and