Harriet sat behind the barrel as the sun ran the sky above. She watched in mute wonder as the crew went about the business of sailing. She was a fast learner, and she soon grasped which ropes did what and why. But for all the new and wonderful things she saw, like watching England shrink to nothing on the horizon for the first time in her life, she was still human. It was mid afternoon by the time she was getting hungry. She sat smaller, afraid that her stomach would give her away. Suddenly the utter stupidity of what she had done struck her. Her lip started to wobble, and her eyes flooded. She held it as long as she could, but a sob finally broke out.

The sailors on deck, used to hearing the sigh of the rigging and whisper of the sea, turned towards to barrel. They approached slowly, wondering what in Neptune’s Realm could be aboard their ship without their knowledge. The captain, a severe old man with wild grey hair and a gold tooth, pulled Harriet out by her hair. She screamed in pain and fear, the grotesque view of a jeering circle of sailors seen from upside-down on the deck. She screamed again and again until the captain clamped his hand over her mouth. The rough, callused pad silenced her to a quiet born of the memory of terror.

‘Well, well,’ said the Captain, grinning a sparkling smile at the crew, ‘what do we have here? A stowaway. And such a pretty one, too. Do you know what we do with stowaways, lassy?’ Harriet shook her head a fraction, eyes wide. The Captain held her easily with one hand, and strode the deck of the ship gesticulating at the sky, ‘I’ll tell you what we do with stowaways. We throws them to the sea as a gesture of respect to Poseidon. I think he’ll be very pleased with you, my girl,’ the Captain sneered, pulling her towards the rail.

‘Let her be, you foul excuse for a man!’ The voice was coming from sternward, causing everyone to turn around. Julian Wentworth glared at the crowd, striding across the deck. The Captain backed away, but Julian seized her, leading her back to his cabin.

‘This is my ship!’ yelled the Captain, ‘You don’t like how I run it, you can get off.’ Julian took no notice, leading Harriet below decks. He settled her down in his hammock, giving her a cup of water and a piece of bread and beef. Without a word he went above decks again. Harriet lay there, chewing slowly, listening out to see if she was going to be thrown overboard. It would be her luck, she thought grimly.

Julian was on deck, trying to explain his position to the Captain.

‘You see, Captain, she may well have stowed away, but that’s no real reason to murder an innocent, is it?’

‘Don’t you lecture me of murder, you two faced pretender. She won’t believe you’re a gentleman any more than I believe she’s innocent. She’s a liability, and we should get rid of her. Who’d know?’

‘I would know, and as long I knew you would remember. If it’s rations you’re worried about I’ll share mine.’

The Captain scoffed at that, glaring at the horizon.

‘Quite taken with the young ‘un, ain’t you? She can stay, if the boys and me can have some entertainment from time to time. Call it a bill of passage.’

Julian balled a fist, bristling with anger.

‘No, she is not to be touched, because if she is your share will shrink to the size of your brain.’

The Captain shrugged, walking to the tiller. The crew turned back to their jobs, the same thought playing through many of their minds.

Below decks, Harriet was lying in silence, shaking breaths escaping sporadically. The tiny cabin, with it’s swaying oil lamp and large sea chest, help less freedom than the run down room in Portsmouth. There at least she had known what to fear.