When Charles and I returned to Zeelandia, the crowd we had earlier seen had grown. MisterJenkins was seated at a table on the wharf with a midshipman, attending those gathered, and I asked their purpose.

"Those who wish to bid must register their name, and they will receive a placard with a number upon it, and with that, they shall show their interest and be identified during the bidding." He pointed toward the gangway. "You head aboard and reflect, Boy. I have matters to discuss with Mister Jenkins."

"Aye, Sir."

As I walked toward the gangplank, I smiled at seeing the sailors with their brass truncheons held so prominent while they surveyed the crowd. Who would dare try anything nefarious in their presence?

Aboard and aft, I entered the night cabin, closed the door and set the mirror on the floor. Then I unfastened and dropped my breeches, and after stepping out of them, I squatted. I looked at the reflection for a long while, motionless before I moved my fingers to pull and separate the folds this way and that, marvelling at the complexity and the variety of colours. Why would anyone think this ugly?

I placed a finger on my nub and moved it about, watching its interaction with the webs of skin attached. No wonder Charles is fascinated. As I traced the edges of my passage and pushed a finger in, I paused. Where does the piss come out? I thought back to what Matilda had said when she instructed me how to plug. No need to remove it to piss.

I lifted the mirror from the floor and held it closer, but I still could not see a hole. At least, nothing like the eye Cyclops has. I examined further, then shrugged. Take the mirror to the privy and watch from where it comes. That will show...

My thoughts were interrupted by the click of the door latch, and I turned my head to smile at Charles as he entered.

"Appears you like what you see, Camille."

"Oh, I do. It is far more complex than I had thought. Little wonder you enjoy exploring it."

"And I shall do that after the auction, unless your new secrets from Ruth are more exciting to you."

I stood and turned toward him. "We have many choices now." Then looking down at my nether hair, I continued. "It really is pretty. All these years..." I shook my head.

"It is, indeed, but it is best you cover it now. We have ship's work to do."

"Aye, Sir. Cover it." I giggled and retrieved my breeches.

While Charles doffed his frock, waistcoat and half-shirt, he said, "My authority shall be my stance aboard, so I no longer need this hot clothing. Shirtsleeves and cocked hat will suffice."

As he selected a clean shirt from the closet, I asked, "Might I wash you so you are fresh?"

He paused, looked at me and nodded. "I would love that."

While I washed him, Charles told me how the sale will proceed. "You will station beside me at the midships bulwarks with the bundle of parchment. Each page details a lot and its cost, and since we found such a paucity of merchandise in the shops, I will use the cost to determine the opening bids."

"But surely not at the cost."

"Oh, no. No, We shall double the cost to find an opening call, and it is your duty to render that onto each sheet, and after the lot has been sold, to mark the winning bid and maintain a cypher of the total."

"And the payments? How are these to be handled?"

"Mister Jenkins and his mid will remain seated at the table on the wharf to receive them and to issue signed vouchers."

I nodded at the wisdom, then said, "Lift your arms that I might wash your asselles."

Charles burst into loud laughter. "That still strikes me as funny. Are you certain of its meaning?"

"Oh, I am. But I at first found it funny as well, in the same manner as you. One of my tutors told me it comes from the French, who took it from the Latin word, axilla, meaning the space under the arms."

While I washed, I thought, then paused to ask, "Would it be safe to have all that money on the wharf?"

"I have instructed Mister Jenkins to bring it up every three lots and place it in the bags at our feet."

"That is wise."

Charles added details as I finished washing and drying him and helping him into his shirt. When he began tying the cravat, I shook my head and said, "A brighter one will add flair. What have you?"

At his bidding, I opened his closet door, delighted to see a long mirror on its back. Then selecting a red silk cravat, I handed it to him. "Far better. Bright and bold, just as you are with this venture."

After I had adjusted his knot, we embraced and kissed. Then with the horsehide folder and a pencil in my hands, we headed out onto the weather deck, Charles donning his hat as we exited the cabin, and I, thrilling at the dashing image he made.

The gathering on the wharf had grown, and there was a small group at the table as bidders continued to register. Charles stopped just forward of the mainmast shrouds, pointing. "We shall station ourselves here, Boy, and this barrel shall serve as your desk – or your seat, if you wish."

"My desk, Sir." I set the folder atop it, then turned to examine the sky. The dark clouds, which had earlier been to the east, were now overhead, and all was clear behind them. I pointed up. "It appears the threat of rain is passing, Sir."

He followed my point. "Aye, it seems the gods are with us."

As we awaited the hour, I pondered his words. Seems he has no church. Or one neither papist nor heathen protester. Multiple gods, as the Greeks and Romans. The Hindoos also have... My thoughts were interrupted by the striking of the town clock.

"Hoy, there! Hear here, now!" Charles spoke in a loud voice to gain attention, and when he had it, he continued, "We welcome you to a sale by auction of goods both common and fine, and all said goods are warranted to be from England or from English colonies beyond the Caribbean, and I have confirmed with His Majesty's Customs Agent that there are no fees payable."

After a pause, he continued, "Bidding shall be by only those registered, and this shall be signified by raising their issued placard. If you have not yet registered, you may now do so at this table." He pointed, and a few moved toward it.

"Settlement shall be at the completion of bidding on each lot, and it shall be done at that same table. When this has been satisfied, we shall proceed to the next lot." Charles raised an arm and indicated several sailors. "And for your protection from purse-cutters, we have armed men watching."

Those in the gathering looked about, many nodding their approval.

"Shall we begin, then." He pointed to a crate. "Lot one, twenty-four bars of wrought iron, each of three stone weight – over half a ton total. Who will offer nineteen pounds?"

I delighted when five placards were raised.

Charles pointed to each in turn, calling, "Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, and twenty-two."

Four placards remained, so he continued, "Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five." One placard remained, and he called, "Any higher than twenty-five?"

A voice from the back called, "Twenty-six."

From the right, a placard flashed along with a call of, "Twenty-seven."

"Any higher?"

"No? Then sold to bidder thirty-four for twenty-seven pounds. Please, proceed to the table, Sir, and settle."

I turned to look, and I was delighted to see the table now flanked by two very large sailors, both armed with belaying pins. Who would dare attempt?

When the lot had been paid and receipted, Charles called the next, "Lot two, the same as the previous. Shall we begin at twenty-six?" Again, five placards were raised.

"Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight." Two remained.

Then a third joined and called "Twenty-nine."

"Thirty," was countered from the right.

"Thirty-one?" Charles asked, and a card at the rear was waved.

"I have thirty-one at the back. Any advance on thirty-one?"

"Thirty-two," the man to the right called."

"Thirty-three," came from the back.

"We have thirty-three. Any more bids?"

After a pause, Charles said, "Thank you, Sir. To the table, please."

I chuckled to myself at the bidding, then I thought of the plight of the blacksmiths. Without iron, they cannot craft and fabricate common goods. What would they do? Buy some at even higher prices from the winning bidders.

My thoughts were broken by Charles' voice. "Lot three, the same as the two previous. Shall we begin at thirty?"

Four placards rose, and Charles counted as he pointed to each, "Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two.

One card went down, but three remained, so he continued pointing and counting, "Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five. This is the last of the wrought iron."

Another placard was raised at the back, a voice calling, "Thirty-six."

I watched those remained as they craned their necks to see who else was bidding, then one called, "Thirty-eight."

"Thank you, Sir. Any advance on thirty-eight?"

"Thirty-nine," sounded from the right.

Then, "Forty," was called from the front.

"We have forty. Are we finished?"

A bidder at the rear called, "Forty-two."

Another tore his placard to pieces, threw them to the ground and left.

"Any advance on forty-two?"

"No?" Charles paused, then said, "Thank you, Sir. To the table, please."

Through the middle of the afternoon, the sale proceeded in this manner, the copper, lead and tin ingots also finding good competition and strong prices. The wisdom of selling the unworked metals first was obvious; those bidding later for the crafted items, both the hardwares and the housewares, would have seen the prices of the materials from which they were made.

The town clock had struck five shortly before Charles called the last lot, "And we now arrive at the final lot of the sale, number forty-seven. Six bolts of broadcloth, each a different colour and heft, three bolts of fine Madras in purest white, three bolts of Calicut cotton in bright patterns, and six bolts of fine English linen of superior quality and tone."

I watched the bidding with great interest, wanting to purchase four yards of the linen to make proper bath sheets and hand towels for Charles and me. I had been concerned when Mistress Duncan stopped bidding three lots previously, likely having exhausted her purse, but to my delight, she held her placard aloft until she had won the lot.

While she paid, I marked the price on the page and cyphered the gain, finding another well above three times the cost. I added this to the running total, then told Charles, "Three thousand two hundred and twelve."

"Oh my! That is more than I had hoped. Our gain should be above two thousand."

"Above three thousand. Two hundred and twelve pounds above."

"But there is the cost of the goods to deduct from that."

"I have done that with each lot." I showed him the sheets. "With each, I cyphered the gain, but curious, I maintained a total of the costs, the prices and the gains. Our total realised is three thousand, nine hundred and forty-seven pounds, Sir."

Charles took the bundle of sheets at my offer, and as he leafed through each, his eyes widened, and his smile grew. "This is so much finer than I had hoped."

I chuckled and whispered, "The gods appear pleased with a woman aboard."

He laid a hand on my shoulder and whispered back, "As is the captain."