The Gallant (23 page)

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Authors: William Stuart Long

Tags: #Fiction, #General

Hastings”

hold.

“Pretty thick, they are, the two of “em,”

Jemmy Roberts volunteered. “An” in a huddle with Train, last time I clapped eyes on “em. Seemed excited, too, like as if they’d gotten some

scheme afoot. Maybe they’re plannin”

another match with you, Michael, an’ fixin’ how to lick you!”

That was hardly likely, Michael decided-Big Toby Train had looked very much the worse for wear at the morning muster, with one eye closed and a noticeable limp, but he had not petitioned for light duties, seemingly anxious to avoid any contact with his er/while adversary after the previous evening’s battle.

“Josh Simmons was up at the yard here earlier,” another man supplied. “I know, “cause I was with the little bastard. Supposed ter be linin” up the wagons an’ takin’ “em down to the jetty, we was, but ‘e never done a hand’s turn.

Come runnin” after us, “e did, when we was ‘arfway down the jetty, puffin” an’ pantin’

fit to bust.” He spat disgustedly into the sawdust-littered ground at his feet. “An’ after that, “e joined ‘is pal on board the perishin”

ship.”

It was not proof positive that Simmons had taken the pistol, Michael thought, but it was near enough to confirm his suspicions … and it would behoove him to keep a wary eye on the two rogues, while awaiting an opportunity to recover the weapon.

To his intense annoyance, the opportunity never came. Both men, and Train with them, managed to keep well out of his way, and it was not until the last wagonload of timber had left the lumberyard for the jetty that Overseer Burke ordered him to accompany it.

“I reckon you’ve bin skulking here for long enough, whiles other men have bin sweating their guts out, Wexford,” the overseer said unpleasantly.

“Roll up them sleeves an’ get ter work loading this lot when you get to the jetty, understand? An’ no sliding off before your time’s up. The ship’ll be sailing once this load’s stowed, and if it takes till dark, we’ll get it finished.”

Michael mumbled a suitably submissive acknowledgment and put his shoulder to the rear of the wagon, his earlier frustration lifting. Overseer Burke had done him a service, he reflected cynically, for all that had been the last thing the swine had intended.

If he could manage to run his quarry to earth in the Hastings

 

hold, it should not be beyond his power of persuasion to regain possession of the stolen pistol-even if Train were to throw in his lot with Haines and Simmons.

Probably their discovery of the pistol would have put the idea of escape into their minds, but they would not have had time as yet to formulate any sort of plan. Or it was to be hoped that they had not… . Michael pushed with the rest, and the wagon went bumping and lurching down the track.

The

Hastings

had steam up, he saw, when they reached the jetty.

She was a sturdy paddle-wheeler, built at Port Arthur by convict labor about ten years earlier, before the closure of the shipyard, and she ran regularly to and from Hobart, carrying cargo and supplies. Her crew were emancipists or ticket-of-leave men, numbering a dozen, under the command of an elderly master, long retired from the East India Company’s marine, who was said to be easygoing and not averse to doing a trade in tobacco with those he decided were trustworthy.

He was on deck now, a small, rotund figure with a straggling white beard, engaged in what appeared to be an argument with Overseer Burke.

On the jetty, the boys from the Juvenile Establishment at Safety Cove-six husky, deeply tanned youngsters who were being transferred to the hiring depot in Hobart-were lined up at the foot of the gangplank by their overseer, where one of the ship’s officers accepted their passes and prepared to call their names.

They were in high spirits, which, Michael reflected with a hint of envy, was not to be wondered at, since the decision to close down Safety Cove

meant that their time at Port Arthur had been cut short. They laughed and joked as they answered to their names; the officer did not reprove them, and some of the crew joined in the repartee, their attention distracted by the merriment, and … Overseer Burke was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m going on board, Jem,” Michael whispered to Jemmy Roberts. “Cover for me, will you, if Burke comes back?”

He swung himself onto the little steamer’s congested deck, balancing on the cargo net and clinging there, as the winch lowered its burden into the after hold.

Below, after the strong sunlight outside, it was darker than he had anticipated, and for a moment or two he could see nothing. The hold was all but full, the timber stacked with methodical precision throughout its length, and at first he supposed it to be deserted, with none of the jetty gang standing by, as they should have been, to unload the net on which he had descended. But then, as his eyes became accustomed to the dim light, he glimpsed two shadowy figures a few yards to his right. He moved toward them, only to trip over a dark, recumbent form that he realized, even as he fell, was the body of a man. It lay inert, not moving

despite his weight across it, and as he leapt to his feet in sudden alarm, he knew instinctively that the man over whom he had stumbled was dead. He washe had been

- a soldier, his white crossbelts showing up in the semidarkness against the red cloth of his tunic, his discarded shako lying, upended, beside him. The sentry, Michael thought-the one normally placed at the entrance to the hold when convicts were working there. The sentry, but without his musket … He drew in his breath sharply, no longer in any doubt as to the present whereabouts of the Adams pistol-or, come to that, of the soldier’s musket.

“For God’s sake!” he exclaimed hoarsely.

“What’s going on here? And who-was Two powerful arms closed about him from behind, silencing him abruptly. He attempted to struggle, to break free, sensing from their size and strength that the arms were Train’s. Then the cold steel of a bayonet-the dead soldier’s, his bemused mind deduced-was thrust painfully into his ribs and Simmons hissed, “Stay right where you are! Don’t make a sound or you’ll get this in your guts!”

“Who is it, Josh?” Haines’s voice, coming from a little way away, sounded tense.

“It’s so.in’ Wexford,” Simmons answered.

“But we’ve got Mm, W. What’ll we do with “im? Want me to slit ‘is gizzard?”

Haines was silent for a long moment; finally he snapped, “No comlet ‘im go. We can use ‘im, maybe.” He came slithering across to join them, impeded by the planks, which, with the loosening of the rope that had held the cargo net, had spilled out to one side. “Send that bleedin” net back up, Toby, or they’ll start wonderin’ what’s “appened to it. Get a move on, man!”

Train obeyed him, and Simmons reluctantly lowered the bayonet, glaring at Michael as he did so.

“The bastard’ll give us away, W. We dursn’t trust ‘im.”

 

William Stuart Long

“He’s a lifer, same as us,” Haines said with a growl. “What about it, Wexford? You with us or not?”

Michael stood his ground. “How the devil can I say, until you tell me what you’re aiming to do?

You’re surely not going to try to run for it, are you?”

“We’re takin” over the ship,” Haines said.

“Once she sails. We’ll run “er

ashore on the mainland an” leg it into the bush.

Plenty o’ food, plenty o’ water aboard, ain’t there? We’ll take what we need-they won’t catch us in a hurry.”

“Holy Mother of God!” Michael stared at him in shocked disbelief. For this they had murdered a wretched soldier, and the

Hastings

was still moored to the jetty, in full view of half a dozen other soldiers, the labor gangs, and their overseers, not to mention the ship’s company. “The master will never sail with you on board! Have you gone out of your minds? Burke will find you missing when he calls the roll, and-was

“Burke won’t find no one missin’ ever again,”

Haines told him sourly. He jerked his head in the direction from which he had come, and Michael saw that there was another slumped, motionless body, half hidden behind a pile of timber. And the Adams was in Haines’s outstretched hand… . Sickened, he looked away. “Did you have to kill him, too?”

“May as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb,” Haines retorted. “An’ Burke was a bloody bullyin’ swine-“e had it coming, the bastard. Josh-make the signal! Quick about it-they’ll be closin” the hatch any minute.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” Michael protested. “You must be mad, Haines! There’s not a chance in hell that you’ll make it!”

For answer, Haines struck him across the mouth with the pistol butt. “You aimin’ to give us away, Wexford? Yell for help or somethin’? D’you reckon anyone will believe you weren’t in with us from the start?” He spat derisively. “You got a choice-you can join us, or I’ll tell Josh “e can slit your gizzard. Which is it to be?”

It was scarcely a choice, Michael thought dully, a hand to his swollen mouth. In any event, what had he to lose? Haines seemed confident that his crazy escape plan would succeed, and, as the fellow had pointed out, even were he to attempt to

betray them and somehow gain the deck unscathed, would those in authority believe that he had had no hand in the killings? It was unlikely; he was there with the three murderers, and … it had been he who had stolen the Adams from Ensign Bernard’s quarters.

“All right, Haines,” he said thickly, “I’m with you. But how in God’s name are you going to make off with this ship?”

Before Haines could answer him, Josh Simmons came scuttling down the hatchway ladder, his small, pinched face wearing a triumphant grin.

“They got the signal, Will,” he announced breathlessly. “An” the hatch cover’s goin’ on.

I fixed a wedge, like you said. They’ll not be able to batten it down.”

“Good work, Josh lad,” Haines approved.

“Now lend Toby a hand an’ get them bleedin’

corpses out o’ sight. Pile some o’ the timber on top of “em. You got the lobsterback’s uniform off of ‘im, Toby? Right, let me ‘ave it. Look lively, lads! And Wexford-was He tossed a hammer across, to land at Michael’s feet. “Get to work on them leg-irons o”

yours, an’ quick about it. We got to be able to move once this so.in’ ship gets under way.”

Haines’s own irons, Michael realized, had already been removed; so had Train’s and Simmons’s… . They had wasted no time. And Haines was divesting himself of his convict’s garb, evidently with the intention of donning the dead soldier’s uniform. He-From the jetty outside came the sound of raised voices and running feet and a overseer yelling commands, his voice drowned by a chorus of confused shouts and counterorders. Michael stifled an exclamation, and Haines said exultantly, as he dragged the broad-arrowed jacket over his head, “There-that’s “ow we’re goin” to get this tub to sea, Wexford! Some o’ the lads “ave started a right old barney on the jetty, ki.in” the pesky overseers that a fire’s broken out in the timber store. In a minute or two they’ll start yellin’

that it’s speadin’ an’ the ship’s in danger. Old Tarry Breeks ain’t one to take no chances-I know “im. ‘E’ll cast off, you see if ‘e don’t. An” once we’re at sea an’ out o’

sight . . dis8He chuckled, buttoning on the soldier’s tunic and striking an attitude. “Like old times-me in “er Majesty’s scarlet again!

Went like clockwork, didn’t it, Josh? I William Stuart Long

told you it would. Worth them few quids o”

baccy in the right “ands, weren’t it, eh?”

“Aye, that it was. Listen …” Josh Simmons, his grisly task apparently completed, held up a hand for silence. “She’s puttin” off, Will! You were right.”

The sudden threshing of the

Hastings’

paddle wheels bore witness to the truth of his words, and from behind him, Train gave vent to a low whoop of satisfaction. “Why, if you ain’t the clever one, Will! This beats everything, by God it does! Truth to tell, though, I “ad me doubts. I didn’t think we’d make it. You-was

Haines cut him short. “We ain’t made it yet, Toby,” he reminded the big man harshly.

“We’ve got to lie low till we’re well clear o” the Cascades … an’ that means keepin’

quiet. You got them leg-irons off yet, Wexford?”

“Yes, they’re off.” Half a dozen blows with the hammer had sufficed to shatter the filed links of his fetters, and Michael discarded them with relief. Up till now, he was forced to concede, Haines’s seemingly crazy plan seemed to be working successfully; but unlike Train, he still had doubts. Certainly the seizure of the ship offered a better chance than an attempt to cross Eaglehawk Neck on foot and alone, but …

He subjected Haines’s half-seen face to an anxious scrutiny.

“How do you propose to take this ship, Haines?

Have you got that planned, too?”

“What’d you take me for? Course I “ave.”

Haines buckled on the dead soldier’s crossbelts and moved his neck in an attempt to ease the pressure from the constricting stock. “Long time since I ‘ad to wear one o” these so.in’

things, still less fight in “em. An” the little bastard was a lot smaller than. me. Still-will I pass muster,

Mister

Wexford?”

“You’ll need the bayonet,” Michael reminded him. “And you won’t need that pistol.”

“Think I’m goin’ to let you “ave it?”

Haines mocked. He took the bayonet from Josh Simmons, a cold little smile playing about his thick, full lips as he slid the Adams into his waistband. was ‘Twas seem” you hide it gave me the notion first off,” he went on. “Like most o’ the other lags “ere, I thought o” tryin’ to get across Eagle’awk Neck, but “ow many ever made it that

way? But with a pistol, why, that opened up a better notion. First time I ‘ad a

ticket-o”-leave, I worked on this tub, so I know a bit about “er-and about ‘er master. Benjamin Tarr-old Tarry Breeks-all ‘e ever wants is to keep ‘is nose clean an” make a copper or two on the side. He’ll give no trouble, you’ll see.”

“Yes, but-was Michael was impatient now, his anxiety growing. “I want to know how you aim to take the ship.”

Haines, however, was not to be hurried. “Weeks I been plannin’ this, an’ like Josh said, I was right —it’s gone like clockwork. I didn’t even “ave to fire that pistol. I just jabbed it in the sojer’s back an” warned “im to keep ‘is mouth shut, an” Josh finished “im with ‘is own bayonet.

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