Of this strange union there came three;

Twas a porpoise

and a tuna

and then came me!

Yo, ho, ho! The wind blows free,

Oh, for the life on the rolling sea!"

I cast my eyes about the chorus but they're all smiling and wide-eyed and listening and not makin' mock of me so I decides to push my luck and tootles another round on the whistle, makin' it a bit different this time, not the straight melody but something like it.

"Very nice, Miss Faber," says the Maestro. "I especially like that counter melody you did on your flageolet on the second verse."

I blush under his praise. So that's what my whistle is called in the world of higher music. Maestro Fracelli bows and hands his stick to me. What?

"Would you like to lead the chorus in this little song, yes?"

I gulp and take the baton and I step to the podium and give the baton a few raps and say, "Everybody back in your places. Now let's do this little song. I will sing the verses and you will sing the chorus. And the chorus is..."

But they've already got it.

"Yo, ho, ho, the wind blows free,

Oh, for the life on the rolling sea."

So I sings the second verse.

"One night I was trimmin' of the glim

And singin' a verse from the evening hymn,

When a voice to starboard shouted 'Ahoy!'

And there was me mother a sittin on a buoy."

And again they does the chorus and they quite naturally comes in high on the second ho and draws out the final sea like a mournful foghorn that I know they've heard out on the harbor on a stormy night. Could I make some money with this group on the right night in the right tavern when the fleet's in, or what? I sing the next verse.

"What has become of my children three?

My mother then did ask of me.

One was shown as a talking fish,

And the other was served on a chafing dish."

And again they does the chorus and I glances at Clarissa and she don't look happy at all, as this is not goin' the way she thought it would. Good. So I goes into the last verse.

"Then the phosphorus flashed in her seaweed hair,

And I looked again and me mother wasn't there.

A voice came echoing out of the night,

'To h.e.l.l with the keeper of the Eddystone light!'"

With that the girls light into the last chorus and just at the end I steps out to the center and puts the whistle back to my lips and starts the dance. I plays and dances together for a bit and then I stops with the whistle and just dances, just hammers out the steps and raps the floor with my heels and they echo off the walls and the girls start clappin' in time and I'm doin' all me steps and moves and then, just at the end, I bring back the whistle and with a final flourish on the whistle and a fine rattle of my feet, I ends it and puts me hands in the air and bows low.

Silence. Then one "Bravo, Jacky!" and then another and another and wild applause all around, and I loves it so much that I just clasps me hands together on me chest and closes me eyes till things quiet down.

When I open my eyes, Clarissa is standing there with Lissette and the rest of the girls have left the choral stand and have gathered about, and Maestro is saying that yes, yes the music of the folk is the basis for all the music, and Clarissa says, "I know that kind of dancing. It's what the poor people on our estate in Virginia do. The blacks and poor whites. If it's done by the nigras, it's called buck dancing. If it's done by poor whites, it's called clogging. Sometimes they put on performances for us as we sit on the verandah in the cool of the evening. We find it mildly amusing, if somewhat simple."

Clarissa brings the power of her gaze to rest upon my poor self.

"Sounds like the poor people have all the fun where you come from," I says, gettin' all hot and comin' up nose to nose with Clarissa.

"Oh no." She smiles, all superior. "The people of your cla.s.s have very little fun. They have to work for their keep, you know. As do the slaves who-"

"A slaveholder. I heard you were a slaveholder, but I couldn't believe it. Even of you." I'm lookin' her up and down and holding my hands to my mouth as if I'm about to throw up and I ain't fakin' it, no, I ain't banterin' now. "I've seen slavers at sea, Clarissa. You really ought to be ashamed."

Clarissa's smile has been replaced by a low, level stare. "I am not the least ashamed. The superior orders must keep the lower orders in their place. We take care of them and they work for us. It is the way of the world and it is as it should be."

I'm workin' up a big gob of spit and am fixin' to put it in her eye when she wheels and heads toward the door.

"Clarissa," I says, and she and Lissette stop and turn to face me. I point toward the French girl, right between her eyes. "Tell me, Princess. When you kiss the Frog, does it turn into a prince?"

There is a snicker. Then another. Then many. And, finally, all-out laughter. Lissette looks, all confused, to Clarissa-the French girl does not get it.

Clarissa, however, does get it. She shoots me a look of pure malice as the laughter swirls about her. She puffs up and comes back to face me and says, "I'll bet your mother was a s.l.u.tty mermaid. You do smell strongly of fish; you do know that, don't you?"

A curtain of red comes down over my mind and I hear myself say in a low growl, "My mother was a lady, Clarissa, and if you ever..."

At this moment I am aware that Maestro has come up between us and is saying, "Ladies. Ladies, please. The sheathing of the claws, please."

Clarissa puffs up and goes to leave, but this time, I spins on my heel and I flounces out, leaving Clarissa in flames behind me.

I go out into the hall, flushed with the emotion of the performance and the confrontation, and I see Mistress standing there. She has heard all of it. I bob and then go on down the pa.s.sageway. She does not stop me.

We leave Geography, the last cla.s.s of the day, and gratefully head for the afternoon tea, and settle down in the soft leather chairs. It is Lissette's turn to serve, so I must watch out for any false moves with the teapot. Amy, sitting next to me, has something on her mind, I can tell. But I can wait.

After we are served our tea and cakes and I thank Lissette and she gives me a frosty nod, I winks at the girl Rachel who's acting as Lissette's servant and I get a small grin out of her. Amy says in a low voice that none but me can hear, "I don't know if it is my place to be telling you this, and I hope you do not think I make a practice of eavesdropping on other people's conversations, but..."-and there's a long pause.

Come on, Amy, get it out.

"But, as I was walking by Mistress Pimm's office door, I chanced to hear Reverend Mather inside asking to see the school's financial records. Mistress murmured something that I couldn't catch, but I heard a desk drawer opening and I a.s.sumed that she was handing over her ledger. He is a member of the Board of Governors of the school, after all, and has a perfect right to inspect the records. Still, and I cannot be sure, but from the tone of her voice, I felt that Mistress was not entirely pleased at this intrusion into what I am sure she feels is her own affairs."

Amy sits back and seems lost in the recollection. I have another bit of cake and wait. After a bit, she goes on.

"He was riffling the pages for only a few scant seconds when he asked outright about you, and how much money you had brought to the school. Mistress named a page and I heard him turning to it. He then made a sound like 'Hmmm!' and in a moment he bid Mistress a good day and was back in the hall, putting his hat back on. He strode right on by me standing there in the hall, and I do not think he even saw me, even though I dropped a curtsy and bid him good day. He did not answer and was through the front door in a moment."

I thank her for this information and a.s.sure her it was right and proper that she should tell me this. Then I think on it for a long time.

That evening, as we ready for bed and I am in my nightdress, I take my hairbrush out into the hall and stand there brushing my hair and looking out the window at the end of the hall, the window that looks out on the church. There is a light in one of the upper windows of the Preacher's church.

What is he about? I wonders.

Chapter 5.