He turned and saw Julia in her pantaloons leave the cabin and walk past the men at the wheel. Shocked, he realised her white shirt was patterned with blood and that she carried a cutlass with a stained blade. He grabbed her shoulders, but she shrugged him off, her eyes bright with excitement.
“Julia, what has happened?”
“I’ve been fighting a Moor, Commandant, like a Corsican.”
“A Moor?”
“The one that came in through the cabin window. He is still there, though his roving days are over. And the ship, she is secure?”
“I believe so, Julia. They had no chance really.”
Snowden felt a puff of wind, turned and saw Poore nearby, sighting along his pistol at the departing galleys. He shouted, “CEASE FIRE!” And then to Poore, “Put that thing down, Mr Poore.”
“Aye, Sir.”
“Kennedy, get the rags on her.”