The pirate sloop
Phantom
had begun life as the French ship
Epée
born in the shipyards of Marseille. The
Epée
had been built for speed, in order to run the blockades of the British navy. Although she was lightly armed, with only six nine-pound cannon, she was light and under full sail ran fast on the bowline. One night she had been anchored in Port-De-France on Martinique, with most of her crew ashore celebrating their escape from the British fleet, a group of out of work sailors, led by an English ex-patriot named William Cooper, appropriated her. Because he was the most educated among them, having spent a year at Christ Church before his money ran out, the sailors voted and agreed that William should be their captain and since most of the pirate crew was formally of the Royal Navy it was agreed that things should be run as much as possible as if she were a king's ship, except the cat would be permanently put to rest. All aboard signed a list of rules that they would obey, under pain of marooning. Among these rules was the provision that no women were to be kept aboard the ship.
William Cooper knew that having a woman on board was considered by sailors to be bad luck, and though it was clearly against the ship's rules; he hoped that since they had done so well on this voyage, taking a ship bound for London loaded with rum, allowing him to double the crew's grog rations, the crew would not notice or at least would not mind his infraction. So while it certainly would cause his crew to be jealous of him, he was willing to risk a mutiny to have Amelia aboard. He had to have this young woman for himself. The little blonde woman, who had gotten so excited when he had taken her, was more than he could resist, and now that she was settled into his cabin and living with him, each night he found he wanted her all over again.
He was able to find one his shirts that was not too dirty for her to wear among the rags he had in his cabin. In the scant light put out by the single candle lantern he used to illuminate his cabin, the slight young woman was nothing short of beautiful. Her pale complexion and long blonde hair glowed in the dim light, and with the overlarge shirt, she had a look of helplessness that even a gruff pirate found irresistible.
From the first he had her tied to his bed and, although he brought her food and water, she refused to speak to him. Each evening, when he returned to his cabin for the evening, she would lie in the bed silently. Remembering her excitement the first time he had taken her, he wished he could do something to get a response, but no matter what he tried, she remained icy to his advances.
One evening, confident in his charisma, he decided that he would confront her about her silence and hopefully get her to talk. As before, she sat in his bed, tied to the headboard, as impassive as a statue. Amelia, stubborn as ever she had been to the many women her father had brought into their house to educate her, was determined not to give up her silent protest. To her mind she was acting like a newly abducted Persephone.
"Won't you talk to me?" he asked.
Still she stared at him impassively.
"What's your name?" he asked for the umpteenth time.
Still there was no response.
Seeing that he seemed to be sailing into the wind, he decided to take another tack. "I'm sorry but your mother is dead. I assume the woman that you were traveling with was your mother. She did look like you. I am sorry but she was so hysterical, she was made to walk the plank. Boys will be boys you know," he said, not mentioning that like her, her mother had been ravaged.
Though saddened at the news of her mother's death, she did her best to show no response. Although a few tears did well in her eyes, she did her best to blink them away.
"Why won't you talk?" He asked.
