“Ship astern, aft starboard,” a voice echoed from aloft.  “Three masts, and runnin’ full!”

Captain Morton grabbed his spyglass and moved to the rail.  Steadying himself against the firm railing he peered toward the horizon and searched for the approaching vessel, hoping his eyes would quickly adjust to the morning glare that was just making its presence known.  He frowned when he finally saw what he was looking for.

“What is it, Captain?”  Mr. Deprior softly spoke by his side.

“It’s her,” he replied, lowering his glass and pondering.  “It’s the Merriam!"

“Well?” the Captain demanded harshly, an edge of tension radiated from its taut command, while his weary countenance showed the rigors of years at sea, gruff lines that stained his face and marred his character.  The ship’s company stood in forbidding silence, most with confused looks that canvased their faces, while a few seethed in angered anticipation.  “I will ask this only once more, speak or be silenced.”

Smoke continued to bellow from below, seeping through the many cracks and broken planks, making Isaac’s weary eyes water.  His mouth was dry, his skin scorched and swollen from the heat of battle, while his muscles groaned in protest from the scraping ropes that confined him to the mainmast.  Stiffness plagued his bound arms as he sought to keep his footing firm and steady.  His long, matted charcoaled hair stuck roughly to his young neck, his stubbled face caked by sweat as ash and powder floated freely through the air and stuck with a tarnished hiss to his bare back and tense arms.

He remained silent, refusing to answer.  He did what he did and now he must endure the consequences.

     With a few moments to spare, Isaac retrieved the envelope from his pocket, broke the seal, and read its contents.  Panic etched his face.  Shoving the letter back into his pocket, he retrieved his spyglass and raced to a small port nearby.  Carelessly, he flung it opened, raised his glass, and peered out at the approaching sloop.

     “No, please,” he slowly mumbled to himself.  “Don’t be…”