Miles made his way once more from the Abigail Cobb to shore. He met James in Sherburne and passed letters to him from the crew to their families. James would distribute them once the first prize was taken. He then stopped once more to see Isaac Cobb – and his secretary. All was ready for departure the next morning. Mr. Cobb's instructions were to fall in behind his transport ship, one called the Miriam, as it passed out of the harbor. If no families joined him onboard by first light the next morning, they would sail without them. Miles merely acknowledged the warning and assured him the instructions were clear.

Miles was thankful that it did not appear as though Mr. Cobb was suspicious about the lack of families seeking him out, other than that many of the crew members would no longer be sailing with Miles for him. That was not at all a concern for Isaac Cobb because he assumed they would be able to hire on more crew in England. The knowledge that Cobb considered so many of the crew so easily replaceable only served to assure Miles that he was making the proper choice, if he had had any doubts.

After his meeting, Miles returned to the former Royal Navy ship. They had yet to replace the British flag with the American flag from the Abigail Cobb, but the crew had been painting. The stern now displayed, in yellow paint, the name Scot where it had once declared the ship the Spar. It amused Miles to see they had even painted over the 's' as opposed to only correcting the rest of the lettering. The rest of the ship had been freshly painted, as well as possible while still at sea, with deep blue and yellow detailing.

"Welcome back aboard, Captain," Asher said when he met him on the deck.

"How have preparations gone?" Miles asked.

"Well. I have most of the crew helping Jean Louis. The modifications have moved along rapidly. I've also sorted through the personal effects of the previous officers so those leaving us can take them to shore. Whether they are truly returned to the men who possessed them is another matter."

Miles nodded. "I am expecting they will return to the navy with news of this. Perhaps they will have some sense of duty remaining." He noticed four men sitting on the deck, chained by the ankles to four separate guns. "What is this?"

"The ones who will be leaving us," Asher explained. "I hadn't planned to treat them as prisoners, but they were trying to incite mutiny and several of us feared for our lives, so I was forced to shackle them. They are locked in a cabin in the wardroom at night, and guarded, but I have them brought up during the day."

The man closest to Miles was glaring at him. He supposed he understood their dislike of him and the situation, if they truly were so loyal to the crown. No loyal person would ever wish to be drawn into an act of treason. He couldn't fault them their personal views.

"They'll be able to go free soon enough," Miles said, turning back to Asher. "Tonight we will meet with the Abigail Cobb and transfer the cargo and supplies. In the morning we will make a declaration to Mr. Cobb."

Asher grinned. "I look forward to it."

Miles spent the remainder of the day reacquainting himself with the crew, all of whom seemed eager to get out to sea. Eventually, he instructed Asher to gather them all together on the deck, within hearing of the prisoners. He wasn't certain he could sway them, but he wanted them to hear what he had to say, regardless.

"Tonight we make for our first prize, a whaling ship in the Nantucket harbor. We will take her cargo, stores and supplies, and her crew. The crew will be joining on with all of us. I expect that all of you will find ways to work together. I expect my crews to behave well toward each other. It is time for me to make clear what the articles on my ship will be, as the opportunity has not presented itself until now. If any of you don't agree with these articles you may leave when your friends here are allowed to leave us tomorrow," he added, motioning pointedly to the prisoners.

"Firstly, I am sole commander of this ship and its crew, as declared in our letter of marque, the document that allows us to operate our privateering venture. Mr. Sands here is our fourth lieutenant. You will meet the others tonight. They are misters Clark, Turner, and Davis. They have served under my whaling command for several years between them. 

"Next, shares will be distributed among the crew based upon rank. A list of prize money earned will be shared after each sale and a full accounting of what is owed each crew member will be available upon request at any time. Additional shares will be reserved as bonuses for those who perform exceptionally well during prize captures, and others to be paid in the event of disfiguring injuries. In the event of death, monies owed will be sent to your families. For that reason I ask that you allow me to record the names and towns of your closest family members, be they spouses, parents, children, or someone else. 

"Most importantly, to keep our letter of marque legal, only British ships will be taken for prizes and no one will harm a prisoner without cause once a ship has surrendered. No one will take from a captured ship's cargo or stores without clear permission from myself. I would like that to be especially understood."

As he made eye contact with each sailor in turn, he noted that all nodded or gave verbal assents. He was glad to see that no one looked too disinterested in what he had to say.

"As your commander, I will provide provisions, weapons, and clothing as needed, though these must not be wasted excessively," he went on. "Speak to your lieutenants if you need anything and they will address it with me. Yes, everyone wants drink, but I expect that also won't be wasted excessively. The need for battle can come at any time, and to fight drunk is dangerous. That is also why I expect the ship to be kept tidy, to make it easier to prepare for battle when the time comes.

"Next, I run my ships on clear respect for everyone. While our letter of marque gives me sole command, I do value you sharing your concerns or grievances. I will take all into consideration whenever possible, if I can. In return, I expect you to treat each other fairly and with respect. That means you are expected not to steal from or harm one another. I will also plainly state another detail. Whatever personal relationships you enter into must be mutually agreed upon by all parties involved. I won't have acts of force on my ship."

That received a round of surprised whispers and a number of wide-eyed expressions. Even Asher shifted beside him, likely stunned by his frankness after having been a Royal Navy officer so recently. Miles had never known a man to complain about being forced into anything, for whatever supposedly manly reason he had, but his concerns on that point were also for Liza and Jane. While he certainly wanted everyone on the crew to be happy however they wished, he knew only the articles could hope to keep the crew in line once they realized there were women aboard.

"This is not the Royal Navy," Miles reminded them. "Finally, I assure you you will be granted leave on shore as often as possible when we make port with prizes or to purchase supplies and perform maintenance. During that time I expect you to properly conduct yourselves. I don't expect any of you to be gentlemen, but I will not tolerate crew members who act as rogues in port. Punishment for breaking the articles will be decided as seen fit by myself or the lieutenants, which may include anything up to and including death, if the misdeed is severe enough. If anyone does not wish to agree to these articles, or if anyone wishes to leave at any time, you may do so. Make the request and you will be let off at the next convenient port with what pay you are owed. Are there any concerns?"

"When do we sign?" someone called.

Miles smiled. "As soon as you'd like."

That was met with cheers from the crew. Miles turned toward Asher, who grinned and nodded to him.

They reached the Abigail Cobb nearly at midnight. Miles still had not told anyone on the whaler what ship he had taken, so they were more than surprised as the frigate came alongside.

"Tell, me," Miles called over, echoing Asher's words from their first meeting with the ship, "who is your captain?"

"You mad bastard!" Clark called back.

Miles laughed. "So I've been told."

Though they had readied the Abigail Cobb as much as possible already, it still took the rest of the night to transfer all barrels of oil, supplies, and the crew from the whaler to the privateer. They rigged a crane to assist in moving the barrels and crates up to the larger ship's deck, then into the hold. The cargo was moved first, followed by the stores and supplies. Then the sails and cordage where removed and transferred. The flag was left fluttering in the breeze, the only useful item left on the empty whaler sitting at anchor in the bay by dawn.

The crew that had once been on the Abigail Cobb was in agreement to Miles's plan to thoroughly declare to Isaac Cobb that they despised his decision to move their lives to England, though they knew it would cost them additional prize money in the sale of the ship. Cobb had paid them poorly enough from their catches that the money Miles had himself to assure them payment even if the court ruled their prize unlawful would be more than they usually earned. 

And so, as their final act on the Abigail Cobb, they scuttled her.

Under the instruction of Jean Louis, the crew opened several holes in the hull at the water line, allowing enough time for them all to safely board the Scot before he Abigail Cobb filled too dangerously with water. 

The whaler was beginning to list leeward as Miles watched a large ship approach. It was easy to recognize the ship as the Miriam, which had been docked since Miles had returned from New York. As the ship drew near, the Abigail Cobb lurched and rolled onto its side, tossing what few items remained on deck into the sea.

Miles wondered if Isaac Cobb was at last wondering if he should have listened to Miles's warnings about the whaler needing maintenance, or if he was content with knowing his cargo had been insured. The Miriam continued on, toward the Scot and not the Abigail Cobb. Miles suspected they had noticed the lack of boats or sailors in the water and assumed the British frigate sitting calmly nearby would have taken the crew of the sinking vessel on board.

Their assumptions were not entirely wrong.

"Hoist the stripes!" Miles called.

The crew obeyed, hauling down the Royal Navy flag and replacing it with the red-and-white striped flag with its pine tree and stars, the flag they had taken from the Abigail Cobb.

"Get us between them and the town!" Miles ordered. By now Isaac Cobb had likely received the letter Miles had paid his secretary to pass to him when in sight of the Abigail Cobb. His greatest fear was Cobb returning to cause harm to the families of anyone on his crew.

The Scot caught the wind and sped to intercept the Miriam's return to Sherburne, but the ship never turned around or slowed. The ships were close enough that Miles could see, through his spyglass, that Mr. Cobb as indeed aboard. He was staring at the sinking wreckage of his finest whaling vessel, Miles's letter in his hand.

At that moment the sea finally swallowed the Abigail Cobb, leaving only churning water and a few bits of debris in its wake.

Isaac Cobb turned to look at the Scot.

"Open the gun ports," Miles commanded. "Just for a little show."

His orders were echoed by Asher and followed immediately, but the Miriam still never slowed from her path. Miles watched until he was certain, then lowered his spyglass. "Excellent work."

There was a round of huzzahs from the crew, and Miles grinned.