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Josephine slept in her cage near the mizzen wind She would not look at anyone, or speak to thees, and needed to have soreed to negotiations But it made Charlotte uneasy all the same Emily had turned away and hidden her face thehoisted on board
Behind the Bestlided the royal fleet of Glass Town A hundred ships filled with stalwart liton had let it be known far and wide that he intended to make his stand at Bravey’s Inn in Calabar Wood Even Douro had heard him say it, while he whirled Charlotte around that jeweled dance floor Now Charlotte knew otherwise When Gondal’s forces arrived they would find no one but Quarter them supper They would surprise Napoleon and take the Bastille and Verdopolis in one stroke When Bran and Anne were safe, they’d dig in their heels at the capital and defend it to the last
All the wooden soldiers pottered round the decks, called up urgent from shore leave Leftenant Gravey doled out the stores for dinner He sported a new gnarl where Douro had shot hi Corporal Cheeky, Bombadier Cracky, Warrant Officers Goody and Baddy, the Cohty, Lance Corporal Sneaky, even Private Tracky checked the knots, rolled cannonballs down the gun deck, and prepared the sails for the next tack into the wind Leftenant Gravey discussed their plans with the Duke of Wellington Half his body gleaht Half was still burnt black and blistered The tale of the Battle at Bravey’s Inn had been told night after night in the Officers’ Mess
Only Sergeant Major Rogue was
Sergeant Crashey sat on the poop deck with a bandage round his ruined eyes He played a sea shanty on a ar claeant played very poorly It was a fine night—the last night before landfall Even Dr Home was up and about on deck Eantic soles of Charlotte’s Sunday shoes) watching the constellations sinking into the deep sea He’d forgiven her for not being made of silver—but only just Charlotte heard her sister saying:
“It’s a game we used to play, the four of us It’s easy You just say so outlandish or fantastical or unlikely and end by saying and”
“Perhaps Old Boney won’t put up a fight e find hi Nothing at all like his portraits They were all done when he was grown up That Byron frightened Emily a little This Byron was just her size “Perhaps he’ll just ask us all in for tea and call off the ith a scone in each handerand”
“And a flock of ravens will pick us all up and carry us straight to Branwell and Anne as fast as you can cawand”
Charlotte winced She felt so in her chest crack a little Just a little, like one frozen twig on a tall tree The Game of And was theirs I don’t care if he is Lord Byron, she thought resentfully He’s not us
Charlotte settled down next to Crashey with her evening’s ration in one hand and his in the other She still sat as though she earing a proper dress It looked odd on her, now she had trousers on Tonight, Gravey had out Charlotte knew that was meant to be a sort of soup But in Glass Town, naturally, the Leftenant had handed her a beaten tinout of it She took a deep breath of the salt air and pulled out her rags with a little sout but rag-out The taste of mutton and carrot stew flooded her mouth, and she felt quite full
“I’eant kept on squeezing his concertina “Are you sure they won’t heal up?”
“Grog’s for kicking the dead out of you,” he said sadly “It don’t do a lot for the complexion”
Grog They would have to give it to them for the battle They were enlisted now Possibly even officers Charlotte didn’t need to beg or bargain She had earned it She thought Well, at any rate, she would earn it And everything that could ever be right in the world would be
“What will you do now?”
Charlotte lifted her hand to stroke Sergeant Crashey’s carved pinewood hair She reht that box of wooden soldiers home from Leeds She re up soldiers before Branwell could claih they wereout: This one’s est soldier and snarled at her: Well, this one’s Bonaparte! Eed them all to be civilized They’d danced round the kitchen table waving their boys in the air like maypole ribbons And then, then Charlotte had pulled the last one out of the box and kissed him on the head and hollered above the din of Christeant Crashey! He’ll be the best soldier there ever was! He was hers, he always had been, and she loved him She wanted to stroke his hair, like a little brother, or a son But at the saone far beyond that Christmas table And so had Charlotte