for an angel, Ludon has bad breath and dirty feet!â
Ben remained flat on the bed and gave Ned a slight smile. âThanks, mate, youâre a true friend. Whereâs the captain?â
The dog allowed the boy to get up as he nodded toward the door. âOh, him, heâs in the crewâs mess, giving them a severe talking-to. Old Thuron doesnât like anyone messing with his two lucky friendsâweâre to be left alone by all hands.â
Ben shook his head regretfully. âI wish he hadnât done that. I like the crew of the Marie. They may be pirates, but they arenât as bad as the crew of the Dutchman. They were wicked.â
Ned licked Benâs hand. âWell, youâre a lucky lad, and Iâm a lucky dog. Weâll just have to put up with it. Get some rest now. Our capân said heâd stay out on deck. Go on, mate, sleep. Iâll stay here and keep watch for both of us.â
The boy scratched behind his faithful dogâs ear. âI know you will, Ned. Youâre a good, trusty hound.â
Ned winked at Ben. âDonât go to sleep right away. Keep scratching my ear, just there. Ooh, that feels wonderful!â
Eventually they both fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. Ben dreamt he was drifting amidst golden clouds in a glorious dawn, high over a calm sea blue as a cornflower. Softly, like distant bells across a meadow, the angelâs voice floated into the corridors of his mind.
Â
âBeware the walking dead by night,
banished by our Saviourâs sight,
And when all faces turn away,
Leave the sea upon that day,
But shun the gold, thou honest heart,
Watch not a friend you loved depart!â
Â
The next thing Ben knew was the sound of Ned, growling softly at a knock on the cabin door. Anacondaâs giant frame almost blocked out the pale dawn light as he stooped and entered, bearing a tray. Placing the contents on the bedside table, he indicated two bowls of oatmeal, some fruit, and water for Ben and Ned.
âWe sail now. Capân say you eat this.â The big man turned and padded silently out.
Ned heard a dull bump against the shipâs side and nodded to Ben. âSounds like the anchor being hauled.â
Ben began eating hurriedly. âIâll go and lend the crew a hand to make sail!â
Thuron watched as Ben swung nimbly from the rigging and landed lightly on deck next to his black Labrador. The Frenchman admired the boyâs agility. âA monkey couldnât have done that better than you, lad. Well now, my lucky messmates, are ye ready to sail for France?â
The boy threw a salute. âAye aye, sir!â
Ned wuffed and wagged his tail. Captain Thuron smiled happily. He turned and called orders to Pierre, who was at the wheel. âTake her out steady beyond the cliffs, Bosun.
Then set your course norâeast through the Caribbean, out âtwixt Hispaniola and Puerto Rico into the Atlantic deeps!â
Ben felt a thrill of anticipation. Certainly there would be unknown perils out on the wide oceanâhardships, too. But this was a voyage to another continent. His sense of adventure was stirred. He felt a kinship with the crewmen of La Petite Marie as they struck up a farewell shanty. Ben felt like a true seafarer, out on his second voyage, halfway across the world. Captain Thuron sang along with the rest as Ben hummed, not knowing the words, and Ned wagged his tail in time with the music.
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âFare thee well, ye fair Susannah,
And to all the friends I know.
Adieu to the shore I might see no more,
I am sailing so far from you.
The seabirds are wheeling and crying,
And weâre bound to cross the great main,
I must follow the sea, so think kindly of me,
Maybe one day Iâll see thee again.â
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Percival Mounsey, the cook aboard the Devon Belle, was fastidious in his duty to Capân Redjack. The master of an English privateer was always served breakfast first, so the cook