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hesitation, the other crewmen laughed and
whistled.
    Although the man's speech was odd, she tuned
it out as her mind focused on being saved. Eileen did as the
crewman instructed. She wrapped the rope just under her arms. Her
fingers were so numb she was unable to tie the rope tightly enough
to hold. As the sailors pulled, the rope slipped from around her
and slithered towards the ship. Leaning over the rail, the crew
grinned and glanced at each other. After multiple attempts at
getting Eileen to use the rope, the crew finally gave up and sent
out a small boat to retrieve her from the water.
    Two crewmen came to fetch her. They grunted
when pulling her on board. Eileen was still wearing her coat, which
was completely soaked and extremely heavy. Once inside the boat,
she curled into a fetal position on the bottom, shivering from cold
and fear. The men maneuvered back to the side of the ship and
secured the skiff. Forcing Eileen to her feet, the one pulled off
her heavily soaked coat and placed each of her hands on the ladder
rungs that led to the deck.
    At this point, Eileen's exhaustion caught up
with her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she passed
out. Luckily, the other crewman caught her before she fell back
into the sea. Turning her around, he hoisted her onto his shoulder
and made his way slowly up the ladder. Multiple hands grabbed her
once they reached the top. They placed her on the deck, circling
her as they stared.
    "All right. Ye seen enough," one man stated
gruffly, pushing men aside. He hoisted her back onto his shoulders
and carried her below deck, while a few of the crew dumbly
followed. The man placed her into the brig, laying her on the
floor, then closed the door and locked it. She groaned and rolled
onto her side. Before leaving, he said gruffly, "Welcome t' the Mistral Thief " and made his way back on deck.
    There, Eileen remained for the next six
hours, sleeping on the cold hard floor of the brig.

    A plume of blue feathers swayed back and
forth as Captain Robert Benedict paced about his quarters. His mind
was racing. He was familiar with superstitions-all pirates were.
But he rarely subscribed to them. He often took risks no other
pirate dared. However, the situation he was now in gave him pause.
A strange woman was on board his ship, in his brig. He had
instructed his first mate to bring her aboard, not wanting to do so
himself. He needed time to think. He had to insist, under penalty
of severe punishment, his orders be carried out. The look on his
first mate's face said it all. The man was scared.
    He shook his head, stopping to look out the
glass panes. The witch was right. He never would have thought it.
She had predicted he would find a woman in the water, calling to
him. He had figured the witch had played him or, was quite possibly
mad. He knew the superstition, that it would be bad luck to bring a
lady on board. But the witch had promised this woman's presence
would provide more riches to him than he could ever imagine. It
still came as a surprise, while he was walking the deck, to hear
her voice shouting from the water.
    More riches than I could ever imagine, he thought to himself, a hint of a smirk on his lips. Must be
true. The witch predicted I’d find the woman. She actually knew.
The treasure must be true also.
    Captain Robert Benedict saw the faint
reflection of his image in the glass pane. He leaned in closer,
running his fingers over his scraggly mustache and beard. He
frowned slightly. Were those gray hairs? He sighed heavily at the
thought of growing old. It had been a while since he had focused on
his appearance. His face, with a few faint scars and an especially
prominent one over the right eye, had become slightly weathered
from years of exposure to wind, sea, and sun. He turned away from
his inspection and resumed pacing. He needed a plan of action
before seeing this woman. He had to take a Machiavellian approach
to the situation. Fortunately for Captain Benedict,