Soon after the Surgeon left, Keith snuck back to see us. We scarfed down what food he had brought and thanked him. Keith smiled knowing that he had done some good.

"I told the crew that I needed to see the Surgeon, so I don't have much time," he said.

With all the willpower I could muster I gave a portion of what little I had back to Keith and told him to share with the Surgeon. Colin looked ashamed and Thorne didn't seem phased.

"Wh-what happened after the Reverend was... thrown overboard?" Colin asked.

"Well," Keith whispered. "The Captain said that we couldn't sign the Articles without taking the oath on a Bible. So we're slaves for the time being. He said that the crew would not harm us and we received our possessions back as a sign of goodwill.

"Then Captain Stith addressed the crew, 'After studying our new map,' he said, 'the island appears ideal for performing some much-needed maintenance on the ships. So prepare to careen them when we arrive. First, our new acquisition then our sloop. As usual, take your orders from Redbeard. Mr. Foot, prepare a list of supplies you need.'"

I didn't think this new information helped our situation, but it seemed to strike Thorne a serious a blow. In a whisper, I asked what the Captain's words meant.

"It means we're doomed," Thorne said. "Any hope of the Royal Navy coming to save us diminishes with each additional league we cross."

Still not understanding, I asked more pointedly what "careening" was.

Thorne responded, "They will sail the ship onto the beach and turn it over onto its side to conduct repairs. They'll erase any sign that this was the Lady Rebecca. They'll probably make us conduct the repairs too, then maroon us."

I saw Colin start to sweat and breathe quickly. Keith's eyes darted back and forth as he processed what he heard. Thorne looked stoic as he stared off into the distance. A spirit of indignation and action welled up within me, and I clenched my fists. I couldn't let my father's memory die with the ship.

"We must do something!" I said. My voice was considerably above a whisper, and we all snapped our heads to watch the stairs to see if we had been overheard.

"What do you propose we do?" Thorne sneered.

"Let's fight! Let's break out of this prison, rally our former crew members, and take back our ship by surprise. Once they get it on the beach, our chances are slim. At least now we have a fighting chance!"

Thorne looked at me with disgust, while Keith and Colin showed a flicker of hope. The fighting spirit sprung back up within me, but was fueled purely by indignation.

"That's easier said than done," Thorne said. "You keep wanting to fight, but it only gets us into more trouble, especially me! What if I gut you first so that you have an injury yourself, then you can talk about escaping?"

I felt the sting of his criticism, and if I had to do it over again, I would have acted with more compassion. I reflected on my father and wondered what he would think of me if we just quit. The thought overcame me and I shot back with venom.

"Captain Falmoth would not stand for this cowardice. If you're not willing to fight, then you deserve whatever fate Providence delivers. No one in here is any better than those scoundrels upstairs if you're not willing to fight for King, Country, and each other's lives."

Thorne was ready for a fight and stood up. He responded with malice in equal measure, "Do you think you're the Prince of Wales? Since the Captain's dead, you're giving orders now?" In a half-mocking tone he added, "I'm the son of Sir Brett Falmoth, so I am the Captain now."
Little did we know how that flippant remark would change our lives.