He suddenly leaped up and began to do a war-dance around the kitchen, waving and flailing his arms and shouting at the top of his voice. Midas growled from the doorway in protest and Bacon, who thought it was some new game, began to bark and cavort around the room with him. Only the cat on the window-seat who, like all cats, had long ago given up trying to humour or understand human beings, went quietly on with her grooming.
8. The Skipper and the Chief Mate
Come Aboard
Smiler was so excited that it took him a long time to go to sleep that night – and when he did it was to dream wildly. He found himself marching with the old Sir Alec Elphinstone in the victorious army of Bonnie Prince Charlie, riding a shaggy pony and carrying a claymore miles too big for him. And then, when victory turned to defeat and rout, he was escaping with Sir Alec across the high hills, hiding in the corries and glens while the King’s men searched for them. After days of hard tramping, they came back at last to the castle where Sir Alec, sad-faced, thanked him for his services and sent him away to his hill farm home. At home, his family all gathered round to hear his adventures – and it was a mixed up sort of family. Although his father was his father, his mother was somehow Mrs Mackay and interested in nothing of his doings except to ask him had he always had enough to eat. She plied him now with mountains of food which Laura, red-faced from the hot range, brought to the table …
He woke the next morning feeling exhausted and was horrified to find that he had gone to bed and left all the jewels on the kitchen table. He bundled them up in their original wrappings and put the whole lot in the safe. As the long, hot day dragged by he was itching to tell someone about his discovery. He wondered if Laura would come up for a quick visit later in the afternoon – which she did sometimes. After he had milked Mrs Brown that afternoon he found a job to do up in the wood behind the castle so that he could watch the loch westwards for a sign of her boat. He had almost given up hope when he saw the boat coming, riding high on the silvery heat shine of the loch water. A few minutes later he heard the distant put-put-put of the motor,
He raced down to the jetty to meet her. When she stepped out of the boat carrying a large basket of fresh-baked bread and other provisions for him, he started to gabble away about his discovery and made no sense at all until Laura said firmly, ‘Stop rattling away like a loon, Sammy, or I’ll think you’ve gone daft from loneliness up here. Now begin at the beginning.’
So Smiler calmed himself down and began at the beginning and Laura listened wide-eyed and, when Smiler had finished she said, sounding very like her mother, ‘ You’re no pulling my leg, are you?’
‘Of course I’m not!’ shouted Smiler. ‘Come on, I’ll show you!’ He grabbed her arm and began to pull her up to the castle so impetuously that her basket overturned. There was more delay while the bread and provisions were gathered up, except for one scone which Bacon grabbed and disappeared with.
In the castle, Smiler opened the safe. In a few moments all the jewels and treasure were laid out in front of Laura. Smiler watched her grow more wide-eyed at the sight of the sparkling, gleaming hoard, and he shifted impatiently from one foot to the other.
Laura slowly looked up at him and said, ‘ Sammy … you’re the boy wonder! The Laird will never know how to thank ye.’ Her eyes went back to the jewels. ‘Aye, look at the bonnie beauties.’
Then to Smiler’s surprise she picked up the eight-pointed star on its head band and slipped it on to her forehead. Grinning at Smiler, she asked, ‘How do I look?’
‘Smashing,’ said Smiler. And she did, with her dark hair flowing to her shoulders and the diamonds of the great star blazing on her warm, brown forehead.
Taking the star off, she said, ‘Aye – yon Sir Alec of those days must have been a canny man. He knew the Prince’s cause was lost forever. Like a good Scot he hid the lot away and said nothing to anyone. Not even to his good lady because he knew the Butcher’s men had ways of making folk talk. He meant always to come back but it was not to be. He died within weeks, they say, of a fever, without a chance to say where the jewels were.’
‘And no one knew about the cave,’ said Smiler. ‘I reckon he found it as a boy when he was swimming and he said nothing. Just in case it came in handy some time. And I’d never have found it if it hadn’t been for old Dobby. Gosh! Just think – the Laird will be able to do all he wants now.’ He grinned. ‘You might get your farm.’
Laura looked up at him and a slow smile spread across her face and she said, ‘Then all I’d need is a handsome and hard-working husband to go with it. Can you think of anyone of our acquaintance, Sammy, who would meet the bill?’
Suddenly Smiler found himself blushing. Quickly he leaned over the table and began to collect the jewels. ‘I’d better get these back in the safe,’ he said.
An hour later Laura left the castle. Hers had only been a flying visit to see that Smiler was all right and to bring his provisions. She explained that she would not be up again for three or four days because things were so busy on the farm at the moment. The Laird would certainly have returned from London by then and she would bring him back.
When darkness began to fall Smiler went into the kitchen and made himself some supper. He put it all on a tray and carried it up to the main hall where he’ate it. After supper he read more of the book on veterinary surgery which the Laird had lent to him. It was pretty hard going and there were lots of words that Smiler did not know. He went into the study and brought back the Laird’s dictionary. He kept at it for over an hour. But his mind was not really on his task. He kept thinking about the Elphinstone treasure and how pleased the Laird would be about its recovery and how he would now be able to do all the things he wanted to do. Finally he put the book down and he curled up comfortably in the Laird’s big velvet, wing-backed chair and had a good think about himself and his father and what they would do once all this approved school business had been cleared up. Maybe he could get his father to find a shore job. After all he was a good cook and there were plenty of places he could get work. But he was doubtful about it. His father had this thing about the sea. Smiler realized that if you had a thing about a thing and it was kind of in your blood … well, there wasn’t much you could do about it. It was like himself now … he knew he never wanted to live anywhere but in the country and to work always at something to do with animals. His education hadn’t been up to much so far, but he was still young enough to do something about that. If he kept at it … well, the old book on veterinary surgery would one day become child’s play to him. ‘Yes, Samuel M.,’ he said aloud, ‘you’ve got to get your head down and work. That’s what you’ve always got to do if you want something what’s really worth having.’
He lay back in the chair and day-dreamed about being a vet. Maybe, too, he could have a farm to sort of go with the business. Then he remembered how Laura had sat at the great table, not so long ago, wearing the eight-pointed Elphinstone star. She’d looked smashing … For sure the Laird would buy her a farm, and then all she would need – he recalled her words now without any embarrassment because there were only Bacon and Midas to see him – would be a handsome and hard-working husband to go with it. His eyes flickering with sleepiness, he grinned and said aloud, ‘Well that does for you, Samuel M. Hard work you could manage, but nobody would call you handsome …’ And with that thought he drifted off to sleep.
Long, long after midnight Smiler woke with a start to hear Bacon barking. Even in half sleep Smiler knew that it was Bacon’s half-puzzled, half-enquiring bark. Bacon seldom used an angry bark. He was much too trusting a sort of dog.
Smiler opened his eyes and was immediately dazzled. The light of a strong torch was full on his face. Beyond its fierce glow he could see nothing. Startled, he started to move from the chair, but a hand moved out and pushed, him firmly back.
A man’s voice said, ‘Just you sit nice an’ easy there, matey. We’ll have some proper light going in a couple of ticks.’
Still trying to puzz
le things out, sleep not fully gone from him, Smiler stayed where he was. It was a calm, not unfriendly voice and had a Cockney accent.
‘That’s the ticket,’ said the man.
Farther down the great hall Smiler saw the beam of another torch break out and he watched as the person holding it moved around. Within a short while the person with the other torch had found the bedroom candles at the foot of the stairs and also the big oil lamp which stood on a small side table. The candles and lamp were lit and, as the great hallway was filled with their soft light, the torches were switched off.
Although he did not know his name, Smiler found himself looking up at the plump face of Billy Morgan. Billy Morgan was dressed in a green windbreaker, navy blue jersey and shabby old corduroy trousers. He gave Smiler a nod and a smile, but it was the kind of smile which never touched his eyes. Instinctively Smiler felt there was something wrong with the smile.
Smiler said, ‘Who are you … and what do you want here?’
Billy Morgan nodded approvingly. ‘Two sensible questions in the circs, lad. But, sorry to say – you ain’t goin’ to get an answer to the first one. Just sit tight and be a good lad, and nobody’ll lay a finger on you. Just think of me as the Skipper and ’im down there –’ he nodded to where the other man was putting the oil lamp on the far end of the table, ‘– as the Chief Mate. Though if either of us, matey, was daft enough to ship to sea to find a fortune then we’d need our Uncle Teds examined. The best pickings is on shore and for pickings we have come.’
Smiler digested this and, because he was no fool, though he was pretty scared by now, he wasn’t long in putting two and two together.
The man at the other end of the table was very small and thin and his shoulders were hunched up around his neck giving him a jockeyish look. He wore a flat cap, a muffler round his neck, a shabby jacket much too small for him, and a pair of flannel trousers so big that they flapped around his ankles as he moved. He had a narrow, pointed face, creased with wrinkles, and seemed pretty old to Smiler. As he moved about he kept up a thin, tuneless whistling to himself.
Screwing courage into himself Smiler said firmly, ‘You two better get out of here before I set the dogs on you. They’ll … they’ll tear you to pieces.’
Billy Morgan gave his humourless laugh and said, ‘Good try, lad. Good try. But not good enough. Still – seven out of ten for guts. No, no … we been watchin’ this little tickle for weeks waiting for the right moment and there ain’t a thing we don’t know, me and the Chief Mate. Them tikes of yours is just too friendly. ‘ Cepting Midas, of course. And ’im you got to step on before he turns nasty. Now, you just sit there nice and easy while we does our business.’ He called to the other man, ‘All right, Chiefy. No trouble this end. Get the key – and let’s make it Uncle Dick.’
The Chief Mate, whistling to himself, pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, consulted it, and then moved to the side of the fireplace and began to fiddle with one of the carvings of the wainscoting. After a moment Smiler saw a small panel spring back. The man groped inside and then shook his head.
‘Number One empty, Skipper,’ he reported.
‘Get on with it, then. It’s got to be in one of ’em according to reliable information received.’
Glued to his chair, his eyes watching every movement, Smiler knew exactly what they were about. There were a lot of secret hiding places in the hall. The Laird had shown some of them to him from time to time. His own fear suddenly left him, driven right out of his mind as he realized fully what was happening – and just what it could mean to the Laird. These men were thieves and they were after the Laird’s silver and – Holy Crikeys! There was more than just the silver in the safe now!
Before he could help himself Smiler got up from the chair and shouted, ‘Just you two listen to me! There ain’t nothing –’
Billy Morgan’s big right hand shot out and pushed him roughly back into the chair.
‘Easy, lad. There ain’t a ting-a-ling you can do. So sit tight and keep yourself in one piece. Just think of it in a sensible way. The Laird’s got plenty and he ain’t goin’ to miss a few bits of old silver. And what’s it to you anyway? You’re just a workin’ lad like ourselves, and workin’ lads must eat. Nothin’ you can do, anyways. Two to one. Nobody’s going to say you could have done anything.’
From down the hall where the Chief Mate had been fiddling with another hiding place under one of the windows, the whistling stopped, and he announced, ‘Number Two empty.’
‘Not to worry,’ said Billy Morgan easily. ‘Four more to go yet. Got to be in one of ’em. He moves it around, he does, the Laird. Cagey old cove. Likeable, though. Pity to do his silver, but there it is. There ain’t no end to the class war.’
He winked at Smiler, but Smiler only glowered back at him. For all his easy talk he could tell now that this man was a real villain. His eyes never smiled and he seemed very sure of himself. But Smiler was more concerned now with the Chief Mate. He had a list of hiding places around the hall and if the one in the stairway post was on the list Smiler knew that there was nothing he could do to save the silver – and the Elphinstone treasure which was in the safe with it. Anxiously he kept his eyes on the Chief Mate. But, as he watched him, his mind was busy on another problem. The man in front of him knew Midas’s name, and they had this list, and they’d been watching the castle for a long time – but no amount of watching could have given them the hiding places. Somebody else must have done that. Smiler had an idea who that might have been. It wasn’t a good thing to think about someone he had never met, but from what Laura had said about Willy McAufee … Well, he didn’t have a very good reputation, and it could have been him. Unseen by the Skipper, he crossed his fingers and hoped that the Laird had never shown Willy the present hiding place of the key.
Within ten minutes the Chief Mate had exhausted all the hiding places on his list. There was no sign of the key and he broke off his whistling to announce, ‘That’s the lot, Skipper. No key.’ He sat on the end of the long table, floppy trouser legs swinging and began to whistle to himself.
Billy Morgan screwed his face up in thought and began to pull at his chin with the fingers of one hand. Staring up into the shadowed recesses of the hall ceiling, he said to no one in particular. ‘No key. No silver. Well, well … It’s enough to make a man of poor spirit weep. But not you, Skipper, ’cos you knows there’s silver here, and you knows it’s in the safe, and all safes must have keys. And that Laird, being a canny Scot, is a hard-thinking, far-seeing man. Now then …’
He took a turn or two up and down in front of the fireplace in silence for a while. Smiler watched him while the Chief Mate swung his legs and whistled faintly and tunelessly.
After a moment or two Billy Morgan came back and stood in front of Smiler. Then, quite surprisingly, he said to Smiler, ‘And what would you do in my position, lad? Take the bad fall of the cards and pull out of the game to eat disappointment pie? Or, like a real sport, put on your best smile and ask Lady Luck for just another dance? Don’t bother to answer, lad. We’ve got a real sticky tarbaby of a question. We must give it the best of our thought which can’t be done on a dry gullet.’
He went to the terrace door and came back with a large shabby rucksack from which he pulled a can of beer. He sat himself on a chair by the fire where he could watch Smiler and opened the can. He drank his beer, his eyes seldom leaving Smiler. His face wrinkled and creased itself with his passing thoughts so that he vaguely reminded Smiler of a fat rabbit munching on its food, the little wings of fair hair on either side of his head sticking up like small ears.
After a few minutes, during which he finished his beer, his face suddenly moved into a smile and he nodded his head approvingly, ‘Aye – that’s the ticket. Never say die – even though you can hear the hearse at the door. On your plates of meat, lad.’
Smiler said, ‘ What do you mean?’
‘I means stand up, lad. On your feet. We’re going to deal with this problem real
methodical and not to say logical or my name’s not … well, whatever it is. Stand up!’ The command was curt and sharp.
Smiter slowly stood up.
‘Chiefy,’ said Billy Morgan, ‘go through his Lucy Lockets.’
The Chief Mate, without interrupting his whistling, came up the room and began to run his hands through Smiler’s pockets, emptying all the contents on to the nearby table. Smiler made no protest. At the moment there was nothing he could do or say. They hadn’t got the key and that was all that he cared about.
Billy Morgan went to the table and sorted through the small pile of belongings. None of it interested him, except a stout brown envelope in which Smiler kept the wages that the Laird had paid him weekly. Billy Morgan half-pulled the folded pile of notes from the envelope, riffled their edges with his thumb and said, ‘ Not bad, not bad. A nice little pot of honey. Well, we’d better have it in case it’s all we get.’ He put the envelope into his own pocket.
Unable to stop himself Smiler shouted, ‘You’re a rotten old thief!’
Billy Morgan shrugged his shoulders and with a humourless smile said, ‘A tea-leaf, yes, lad. But not all that old. And far from rotten. Sound as a bell, in fact. But there’s no need to apologize. I take no offence.’
The Chief Mate stopped his whistling and said, ‘If that’s all we’re going to get, let’s go, Skipper. There ain’t goin’ to be any more because there ain’t no key. The Laird must have found a new hiding place since –’
Billy Morgan silenced him with a wave of his hand and said, ‘Don’t give up, Chiefy. The boat’s sound, the breeze is nothing and yours truly’s at the helm. There’s no key on the boy, that’s true. And that’s what I wanted to know first. Step by step you climb to success. It could ’ave been on him. But it isn’t. That’s, step one cleared. Now for step two.’ He smiled at Smiler and asked, ‘You savvy what that is, lad?’
Flight of the Grey Goose Page 13