Never made a sound, the poor bastard-I ‘ad my ‘and over ‘is mouth, to make sure. Then that swine Burke come below, all officious, to see what we was at, an” we served “im the same way.” There was no pity, only a brutal satisfaction in his voice. “We- ‘Ang on!” He paused, listening intently, and Michael felt the slight lurch of the deck under his feet as the steamer changed course.
“He’s headin” nor’west,” Haines observed.
“He’ll hug the shore between Ironstone Point an’ Whitehouse an’ then run out past Green Head an’ Slopin’ Island. Should be in Barnes Bay soon after first light tomorrow. I reckon we’ll bide our time-unless anyone pokes “is ‘ead in ‘ere-an” take old
Tarry Breeks in the mornin’.” He smiled from one to the other of them. “I’ll march you three into “is cabin, claimin” I found you stowed away.
Once we’re in, we take the old buzzard, an’ he’ll help us round up the crew, “cause I’ll be holdin” that pistol to “is ‘ead.
We’re armed, and they ain’t. If any of’em give us trouble, we’ll shoot ‘em-or shoot one of ‘em, as an example. Agreed?”
“Aye, agreed,” Simmons echoed, without hesitation. Train nodded his massive head with some reluctance, and Michael, risking their concerted disapproval, made a plea for restraint.
“What about the boys from the Juvenile Establishment, the ones who are on release? You surely wouldn’t shoot them, would you?” he asked.
“They’ve done their time.”
“We’ll see they’re locked up,” Haines decided. He added, in a more placatory tone, “I don’t want no more killin”,
Wexford. I said we’d shoot anyone as gives us trouble, that’s all. An’ this
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bunch won’t, if I know anything about “em.
They’ll be too scared for their own skins, an” the old man with “em. But we’re goin” to have to alter course soon after first light-run in west o’
Bruny Island an’ into the D’Entrecasteaux Channel, “stead o” steerin’ north for the Derwent Estuary-an’ put the old tub ashore near Woodbridge Bay or Middleton Creek or thereabouts, off North Bruny. Then we’ll take what we need-stores an’ clothing and whatever we might find useful-an’ head off for the Huon Valley. Plenty o’ pickings to be had there, I guarantee.”
He enlarged on his plan, and Michael listened uneasily. Haines knew the coast, that was evident, however long it had been since he had served as a member of the
Hastings’
crew. The Huon Valley was settled, and there were convict probation stations, he had heard, in the area, and a number of logging camps, as well as farms scattered throughout.
But where there were settlements and townships, there were also magistrates and constables, to uphold the law. The convict stations had guards, and with Hobart too close for comfort, it would mean that police troopers and probably military search parties would be dispatched to track them down, as soon as it was known they had escaped from Port Arthur. And when the Hastings
failed to make port within her scheduled time, the hunt would be on with a vengeance, and rewards offered for their apprehension … yet Haines was talking as if it were decided that they should stay together.
Michael’s uneasiness grew. Haines’s mention of “pickings” made his intentions clear enough. He was planning that they should take to the bush, to prey on isolated settlers and live hand-to-mouth as bushrangers, with every man’s hand against them and the inevitable death sentence facing them if-when
- they were apprehended. Whereas he … dear God, he thought despairingly, had not his sole reason for attempting to escape been in order to go in pursuit of Commandant Price? Had not that been the objective in the forefront of his mind when he had stolen Ensign Bernard’s Adams pistol and weighed up the risks he would incur if he tried to make the hazardous crossing of Eaglehawk Neck?
He had been ready and willing—nay, eager-to take his life
in his hands, if by so doing there might be one chance in a thousand of evening the score with the sadistic swine who had come so near to breaking him during the years on Norfolk Island. It had been
that
hope and not the hope of freedom that had kept him alive, when it would have been easier to die. But to face the life Haines and the unpleasant Simmons and Big Toby Train were now
contemplating-and in their company-no, that he knew he could not do. He-Haines said suddenly, as if guessing his thoughts or, at all events, sensing his unspoken opposition, “You got to stick with us, Wexford, understand? Once we’re ashore an’ clear o’ the ship, you can go your own way, if you want to. But till then, you do what I say-right?”
“Very well,” Michael agreed, his tone clipped. “But
you
understand, I’ll have no part in any killing.”
“I told you, there’ll be no killing, not unless we have to.” Haines exchanged a glance with Josh Simmons and then shrugged. “All right-we’ll set a watch. You can take the first two hours, Wexford.
Then Toby, then Josh. When we ain’t on watch, we get our heads down. First thing tomorrow mornin’ we take the ship an’ change course, like I said. When we’re off the mainland, we keep our eyes peeled for a good spot to run the ship on shore. Soon as we find one, that’s what we’ll do.”
No one questioned the plan he had outlined, and having given Michael instructions to give the alarm if any of the
Hastings’
crew attempted to enter the hold, Haines lay down on a pile of sacking and composed himself for sleep.
There were no alarms; the ship plowed on through the night, and Michael, his watch over, slept fitfully until Haines roused him, with the information that it was dawn and time for action.
His plan worked, as he had said it would, like clockwork. The watch on deck—three
elderly seamen, plus a cook’s boy, engaged in emptying slop buckets into the sea-stared in astonishment when Haines, in the dead soldier’s uniform, herded his three companions across the deck toward the master’s cabin. But not a move was made to stop him-the seamen seemingly reassured by his claim that the three were stowaways-and old Captain Tarr, wakened blinking and bleary-eyed from what had clearly been a deep, drink-induced sleep, made no attempt at
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resistance. With the Adams’ squat muzzle pressed into his ribs, he obeyed without argument Haines’s demand that he turn out of his bunk and clothe himself.
“You was in “er Majesty’s Navy, wasn’t you, Wexford?” Haines asked, as old Tarr completed his hasty dressing. Michael nodded and Haines grinned.
“Officer, was you?”
“I was a midshipman. But-was
“Then you’ll know enough to make sure the captain keeps to the course I’ll set ‘im?”
“I think so, yes.”
“Right-then on deck with you. Josh will make sure ‘e don’t give you no lip.” He thrust the musket into Josh Simmons’s eager hands, and Michael followed them on deck. Grumbling under his breath, the
Hastings”
master took the wheel and duly altered course, while Haines and Train rounded up the crew. What they did with them Michael did not know, save that, with the exception of two elderly seamen, they all vanished below. When his two fellow absconders reappeared on deck, they had evidently raided both the ship’s arms chest and the old master’s wardrobe, for both were clad in civilian suits, and Train was carrying two muskets. He relieved Josh, who went below once more with Haines, and on their return Josh had replaced his convict garb with seaman’s ducks and a blue watchcoat, and they unceremoniously dumped half a dozen rusting cutlasses-taken, Michael guessed, from the arms chest-over the side.
“Is “e still on course, Wexford?” Haines demanded.
“He’s still on course,” Michael confirmed.
“Right-then see ‘e keeps on it. Josh an” me’ll be in the engine room—them swine o’
stokers ain’t puttin’ their backs into their work, so we’re just goin’ to show “em what’s what.” Haines squinted skyward for a moment and then nodded his satisfaction. “Goin” to be a fine day, praise be! We should sight Bruny Island in-was His glance went to the master. was “Bout a coupla hours, eh?”
“Aye, about that,” Tarr confirmed sullenly.
Michael drew Haines to one side, his rancor against the man’s arrogant assumption of command unconcealed. He said, lowering his voice, “I need one of the muskets, Haines. And a
change of clothing. I’m not going on the run in broad arrows. I-was
“Use your fists,” Haines sneered. “You know how to do that well enough, don’t you? I’m not trustin” you with a musket. But you can take any clobber you want from old Tarry Breeks’s cabin once I’m sure we’re in the D’Entrecasteaux Channel. We -” He broke off, cursing, as raised voices from below and the sound of frenzied hammering suggested that some, at least, of the crew were bent on breaking out of their confinement. “Devil take “em, that’s them so.in” little swine from Safety Cove. Go an’ deal with “em, Toby. Tell ‘em we’ll let them go when we quk this tub, but only if they be’ave theirselves meantime. Bust a few ‘eads if you ‘ave to. Come on,
Josh-let’s get them bastard stokers back into line!”
Left alone with Michael, Benjamin Tarr said slyly, “They don’t trust you, do they, Mr.
Wexford? ‘Cos you used to be an officer in ‘er Majesty’s Navy, no doubt?” When Michael did not answer him, he took a bony brown hand from the wheel and grasped Michael by the sleeve of his coarse yellow shirt. “What’re you doing in the company of rogues like Haines, eh? For that matter, what’re you doing in this rig? You ain’t a criminal, are you?”
What truthful answer could he give? Michael asked himself, recalling his brief, inglorious months in the bush that had been the reason for his having been sent to Norfolk Island. And as to the company he kept … He laughed aloud.
“What’s amusing you?” Tarr challenged indignantly.
“Nothing you’d understand,” Michael returned.
“It’s just that there’ll be a price on my head, the same as on the others” … and they’ll hang me if I’m caught, Captain, as an accessory-that’s for sure. So I’m aiming to show a clean pair of heels, if I can-but alone, the first chance I get.”
“You could be in line for a pardon,” Tarr pointed out, “if you were to help me retake my ship. I’d recommend you, and-was He glanced at the binnacle, then questioningly to Michael. “That’s Betsey’s Island, fine on our larboard bow, and the Iron Pot light’ll be in sight soon, at the mouth of the Derwent River.” He went into detail, describing a number of landmarks. “It’s getting near the time when we’ll have to change course.
Which is it to be, Mr. Wexford? North to the estuary, or sou’west to weather Cape Sortie and head into the D’Entrecasteaux Channel?”
Haines would shoot him-shoot them both, probably-without compunction, if his orders were not strictly adhered to. And he would find out long before the wallowing old paddle-steamer could possibly enter the Derwent River. Haines might be no navigator, but he knew these waters and the landmarks Tarr had indicated … and it would not take him long to show the recalcitrant stokers what was what. Or, come to that, to scare the boys from the Juvenile Establishment into submission. Already the shouting and hammering had ceased… . Michael freed his sleeve from the old master’s grasp.
“Steer sou’west, Captain,” he said curtly.
“Then you’ll not help me?”
“They’re armed, Captain Tarr, and they will not hesitate to gun you down if you step out of line. I know them, and I know what they’ve done. The only way you can hope to save your ship and stay alive is to do what Haines wants, believe me.”
“They’ll wreck my ship,” Tarr said with a growl. “That’s what they’re planning, isn’t it?”
“They plan to run her ashore, yes,” Michael conceded. “But if you play your cards right, you can choose where. It does not have to be on the rocks, does it?”
“No,” the old man answered, his brow puckered in thought. “No, you’re right, it doesn’t.” Again his eyes met Michael’s in mute question.
“I’ll do what I can, Captain,” Michael responded. “But it may not be much.”
The ship plowed on, and now Haines was on deck, wary and watchful, his hand always on the pistol in his belt. Even when he was satisfied that the correct change of course had been made, he did not relax his vigilance. He kept Michael at his post, standing for hour after hour at Captain Tarr’s side, the ship’s chart of the area spread out in front of them, each landmark checked and noted for him.
Simmons and Train brought sacks of provisions from the cook’s store, carefully dividing their contents into a size and weight that each man could comfortably carry. There were
three bundles, not four, Michael observed, with growing apprehension; and ammunition for the muskets was also divided into three pouches, which the other three strapped to their waists, without explanation or apology, Simmons tucking the dead soldier’s bayonet into his belt, an oddly menacing smile curving his lips as he did so.
The cook, clearly terrified of them, brought food and a small ale cask on deck, and they ate, squatting cross-legged on the paddle transom, Haines studying the shore at intervals with the master’s glass to his eye. Seen from the steamer’s deck, it looked inhospitable enough-tall, basalt cliffs rising sheer out of the sea, with the surf dashing against their rocky outcrops and thickly wooded hills rising behind them.
Michael snatched a meal, with Benjamin Tarr to share it, and the old man observed, in a hoarse whisper, “We’re coming up to a likely place.”
He jabbed his finger at a point on the chart.
“Baker’s Inlet, it’s called. I could run her ashore there with a good chance of being able to get her off without doing too much damage. And Haines will like it-he’d have no trouble starting his run. No cliffs to climb, just a gentle slope and plenty of cover.”
He took a long swallow of the ale the cook had brought him and gestured to the sacks of provisions lying nearby on the deck. “Doesn’t look to me as if they intend you to go with them.”
It did not, Michael was becoming increasingly aware. Perhaps, he thought, they planned simply to leave him on board … although, in view of Haines’s attitude toward him-which was now openly hostile-they might have other plans. He might prove an awkward witness against them if they were caught-a fact that, he was sure, had not escaped Haines’s notice. But, after a prolonged study of the chart, Haines agreed that Baker’s Inlet would serve well as their destination, and he ordered the Hastings”