Free Black Sheep's Daughter by Carola Dunn

colourful as he stood at the bottom of the stairway. The difficulty of hoisting his ample person up the steep rungs dissuaded him from following, but the stream of invective issuing from his lips made every head turn his way.
     "Catch it!" bellowed the bosun after a stunned moment of silence when the parrot erupted from below.
     With one accord, the sailors joyfully quit holystoning the immaculate deck and took up the chase.
     Gayo headed straight for the rigging. Alighting, he started hand over hand up a taut rope. A couple of dozen seamen climbed after him. Unintimidated, he didn’t bother to move away until the foremost reached for him. Then he glided down to the quarter deck, perched on a convenient railing, and addressed the gaping first mate. " Hijo de puta ," he said in a conversational tone, adding Sanchita's deep, rich chuckle. "Hello, hello, what a pity. Blimey!  Cor stone the crows!"
     The officer snatched at him. Gayo eluded his grasp with an effortless hop and continued his harangue to an appreciative audience as a circle of sailors closed in on him.
     "Misbegotten son of a sea-snake!" he yelled in the cook's voice. "Toss-pot scum!  Slimy, slimy, slimy scum. Hello. Gadzooks!"  Eyes alert with mischief, he waited until the last moment before flying back up to the topgallant mast. "Misbegotten rum scum!" he let loose one last insult before falling silent and preening his feathers.
     Down on the quarter deck, the first mate shook his fist in impotent fury as the rest of the crew took to the rigging again. Teresa, warned by the trembling cabin boy, arrived on deck moments later with her brothers and Sir Andrew hot on her heels. She ran to the bosun.
     "I can fetch him down," she told him hurriedly. "He will come to me, only you must call off your men. He’ll just keep evading them."
     The bosun glared at her. Before he could open his mouth to let out a blistering reproof, Sir Andrew broke in.
     "It’s Miss Danville's parrot," he said in his most soothing diplomatic accents, "but she is not responsible for his escape. Let her call him down."
     The first mate leaned over the rail to hear them. He scowled at Teresa, but his lips were twitching. "Bring the men down," he ordered.
     The bosun's roar brought the sailors down with a rush.
     Everyone watched as Teresa put her fingers to her mouth and whistled. Gayo descended like a diving eagle. He landed on Teresa's shoulder and nibbled her ear. Then he saw Sir Andrew and flapped over to him. "Hello, dinner," he said fondly.
     The bosun looked at the diplomat and grinned. "Got a mouth on 'im, that bird," he said with sympathy. "Don't know as I 'adn't rather be called slimy toss-pot better'n dinner. Sir." He realised his men were slacking and sent them back to their holystones with a bellow.
     Andrew transferred the parrot to Teresa and, a minatory look in his eye, ordered her below. She obeyed meekly while he went to apologise to the mate.
     "Funniest thing I've seen in fifteen years in His Majesty's Navy," admitted that worthy officer. "If it was not Miss Danville's fault, whose was it?"
     "Well, it was Miss Danville's fault for bringing the bird aboard in the first place," he temporized, thinking of the scared, remorseful cabin boy. "I warned her not to. As for who let them loose, I'd prefer not to say. I'm afraid Captain Fitch is going to be in a high dudgeon over this."
     "He has probably slept through it, and I'll do what I can to keep it from him, but I cannot guarantee he will not find out."
     Andrew went down to ring a peal over Teresa. He found Oscar doing an excellent job of it, so he changed his mind and consoled her with the news that the first mate was more amused than angry.
    * * * *
     Inevitably, the tale reached the captain's ears. He summoned Andrew to his cabin. "I cannot countenance such a Bedlam on my ship," he pointed out. His eyes were inflamed, making him look more than ever like an unhappy bloodhound. "Unless she’ll leave the