In the mornings, the captain gave her tasks to complete. Bradford must have told him she could sew because he gave her armloads of mending to do, everything from men’s undergarments to the ship’s flags. She wouldn’t see Humphrey until the evenings, when he would often pass out before they had much interaction. With few exceptions, Humphrey kept her locked in his room. Once, when she asked if she might be allowed to get some fresh air, he refused, claiming that the sight of a comely woman such as herself would drive the crew to distraction. He said locking her away was for her own safety, protecting her from savages who would only do her harm. The solitude of the days drove Frederica mad. She longed for interaction with other people, and she wished Bradford would come to her door again, just so she might hear a friendly voice. She owed him a debt for saving her from the same violent end that met the other two hundred and sixty-one passengers of the Adelaide, and he was the closest thing she had to a friend on this blasted pirate ship.
