Authors: Peter Smalley
'I know it. I know you will only wish for my advancement
and satisfaction in the service.'
'Then . . . ?'
'I . . . I was obliged to do something at sea, lately, that was
very painful to me. It has been much in my thoughts. In truth
I have thought of little else since.'
'You had to punish one of your men?'
'No, it was not punishment. It could not be called
punishment.'
'Will you tell me?'
'I do not think I can.' Shaking his head.
'James, I am your wife.' Softly, earnestly. 'I can bear
anything you tell me.'
'I was . . . I was obliged to shoot a man that was horribly
injured, so that he should not suffer any more.' He turned
away a moment, and sat down, holding in a breath. Catherine
came to him and took his head in her hands, and turned it
gently to her.
'Oh, James. Oh, my poor darling, it hurt you so.'
After a moment, when he was again able to speak: 'I don't
know that I can ever return to the service. I don't think I am
able to command men, now, after that.'
'You must rest, my darling, and try to put it from your
mind.'
'I wish I could.'
'Come and see your son. He is so eager to see you, James.'
'Is he? Is he? I will like to see him very much, dear little
boy. Forgive me for being so melancholy a fellow, will you?'
He stood up.
'I would not love you if you did not feel as you do.' Taking
his arm as they moved to the door.
Sir Robert Greer looked up from his desk in his library at
Kingshill House.
'What is it, Fender?'
'There is a gentleman wishes to see you, Sir Robert.' His
servant, at the door.
'Gentleman? At this hour? Tell him to go away.'
'I do not think he will go away, sir, as I may have cause to
know.' Touching his cheek.
'What? Who is he?'
'It is the same gentleman that came here before, sir.'
The door now swung fully open, and the servant was
pushed aside.
'Good evening, Sir Robert. Or should I say more accurate
– Mr Scott? You remember me, I think. I am Major
Braithwaite, of the Board of Customs.'
He beckoned in his men, and as Sir Robert rose angrily:
'Do not think of summoning the marines, sir. Do not think
of that. They have had instruction from elsewhere, and they
will not come.'
'You damned impudent wretch, I will – '
'No, sir. No. You will do nothing. Because, at long last, you
are took.'