​The lieutenant stood in the cabin aboard His Majesty’s Ship Otter.

 

“Well, what have ye to say?” asked Captain Matthew Squire. Seated behind a table, Squire gazed coldly up at him, the corners of his mouth downturned.

 

“Sir, as ordered, we marched to the o!ce of the Virginia Gazette and Norfolk Intelligencer. I stationed my men—”

 

“Damn your eyes, Lieutenant, I want to know whether you carried out my orders, not a blow by blow description of marching.” Squire’s gravelly voice cut sharply into the lieutenant’s narrative. 

 

Resisting the desire to grind his teeth, the lieutenant changed tacks. “Yes, sir. We entered the o!ce and seized the printing press and what supplies we could #nd. A crowd of perhaps #fty or sixty of the damn—” He paused, swallowing hard. “Beg pardon, sir. I meant fifty or sixty colonials. They stood quiet-like, sir, and watched. I had my men keep a close eye on them, but there was no trouble.”

 

“So, Lord Dunmore can print and publish papers from his flagship, then?”

 

The lieutenant licked his lips. “Ah, no, sir, not quite.” Seeing Squire’s mouth open, he quickly interjected, “There wasn’t any ink, sir. We took everything in the place apart, sir, and there weren’t no ink in the whole place. The printer hisself was not to

be found, sir.”

 

The officer’s carefully cultivated speech collapsed under his sudden burst of fear. He pushed on. “Sir, my men searched the houses around, but he wasn’t there. He must have been warned, sir.”

 

He stopped, waiting for the explosion. When it didn’t come, he added, “But we did capture the bookbinder and a journeyman printer, sir. A Mr. Joseph Conant and a Mr. Alexander Cameron.”

 

The sun slanting through the stern windows reflected off a wave top, directly into the lieutenant’s eyes. He blinked.

 

Squire smiled coldly. “Well, no matter. We’ve got the press and we can find ink tomorrow or the next day. Lord Dunmore will have his newsprint, and we’ll finally have the truth out. And one of the first things to print is his order closing the ports of Norfolk, Portsmouth, and Suffolk. Not a single ship will be allowed in or out without a permit signed by Lord Dunmore. And I will recommend he not grant any. These damned colonials are going to pay for the damage they’ve done to the Navy, for what they’ve stolen from us. In money, in property, and in lives.”

 

Squire stood in dismissal. He turned to look out the stern windows. Gray smoke rose from the distant town of squat houses and shops, blending with the low clouds overhead. As the lieutenant stepped out, he heard Squire say, “Yes, indeed, they will pay.”