Highland Justice

by Larry Stuart

  Five hours later, they duly arrived at Liverpool’s Lime Street Station, and what an amazing place it was. Five sets of tracks led in and out of the station, converging onto three separate platforms beneath a huge, curved roof covering the station like some giant armadillo.

  Upon leaving the station, Cameron led Mary across the street to the nearest hotel for her second surprise of the day – an overnight stay prior to their departure.

  Having plied Mary with a good meal and a few gins at a nice little restaurant up the street from their hotel, he then led her back to their room; where he proceeded to stun her with his confession. Of course, he still lacked the courage to be direct, and so slowly, worked his way towards the shocking truth.

  ‘We’re on a fantastic ship called the “Allepo”. She’s over 350 feet long and 35 feet wide. As well as sails, the ship is fitted with a coal-fired steam engine, drivin’ a single propeller…and although she dinna carry enough coal to power us all the way, it does allow us to get in an out of ports under our own power, and apparently helps our ship to maintain speed in the right direction, even when the winds are light or contrary. Oh…and she’s made out of steel, so is really safe…and apparently is so fast we should get there in about fourteen or fifteen days.’

  At this point his voice faded away, as he realised he’d just put his foot well and truly into his mouth.

  ‘Did you say fifteen days? But surely that’s no possible?’

  As the night wore on, Mary became even more dumfounded. Cameron told her about his family’s purported history, and about the bible and royal standard – now safely tucked away at the bottom of one of their trunks.

  ‘And do you remember, Dougal, ma father’s old friend?’

  Mary replied with a blank look, and then an imperceptible nod.

  ‘Well, I met him the night I went back to Dufftown to sort out Helen’s things. He told me about what happened on the day ma father was killed…and it were no accident.’

  ‘Sure…and what proof did he have?’ Mary murmured.

  ‘Well…only that he knew from his fightin’ days what kind of rifle killed ma

  father…and who owns one of them. So the followin’ night after I left the meetin’, I

  was left in no doubt that what he’d told me were the truth.’

  ‘Meetin’…what meetin’?’

  This was not going the way Cameron had planned. Originally, he had hoped to only tell her enough to explain the change in their destination, leaving the rest to disclose gradually, over time. But he now realised this wasn’t going to work. Mary was no fool, and he could tell by the look in her eyes that she would not let up until she had the whole sorry tale.

  ‘All right,’ Cameron sighed, lifting both hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

  So over the next hour, he told her everything: from his clandestine meeting with the other disgruntled Highlanders; to talking the Company into giving him the new job so that he could learn how to use dynamite, and then finally to his setting off the landslide that had killed Malcolm Campbell’s son and his coachman.

  As he told the story, Mary’s face went from scarlet to white, and after he finished, for what seemed like an eternity, she said nothing. Then, with undisguised revulsion and ire, she turned to him.

  ‘My God!…Not only have you lied to me for months…but now it seems you’re a murderer as well!’

  ‘But, Mary I…’

  ‘I no want to hear any more,’ she said brusquely, before silently preparing to go to bed.

  Getting under the covers, she turned onto her side, her back forming an impenetrable wall between herself and Cameron. Who on earth did I marry, she wondered, before quietly crying herself to sleep.

  ‘Och, come on, Mary. I’m sure Canada can no be all that bad. After all, thousands of people be goin’ there…and besides, ma sister’s there as well.’

  ‘Well, we no really have much choice now, do we?’

  For the first few hours, the passengers were left to their own devices. The majority stood silently by the rail, staring out as if in a trance at the rapidly receding shoreline. With some unease, most women grasped the salt encrusted rail with one hand, while bravely clinging to their bonnets with the other. Their husbands, on the other hand, seemed to quickly get to grips with leaning against the heel of the ship, and used their hands to steady their wives. In the meantime, the children did what children always do. The young ones ran amok all over the decks getting in everyone’s way, while the older ones stole furtive glances at the opposite sex, all the while doing their best to appear completely uninterested.

  The Captain and crew knew from their experience that the present holiday atmosphere would soon change, so for the moment were willing to ignore the disorder on the ship.

  None of the passengers noticed the slight shift in wind direction or its increase in speed; and even if they had, they would not have realised its significance. But the crew certainly did, and were well aware of what was about to take place. The ship had just moved out from behind the calming influence of the land, and the real crossing was about to begin.

  The sedate progress of the ship abruptly changed, as she put her shoulder into the first green, curling Atlantic swell. A slight rolling motion ensued, and the ship began to shudder each time it plunged into a white-crested roller. Spray from the bow was thrown higher than the hull, before once more settling back into the confused water adjoining them. And as the sails began to flap, the crew once more sprang into action, scrambling about the rigging like monkeys in the jungle.

  Within minutes, the voyagers began to drift towards their accommodation – having for some reason lost their enthusiasm for the sea. Cameron and Mary followed the others, descending the staircase into the second-class passengers’ living quarters. The moment their faces cleared the deck, the previous overwhelming sound of the wind, whistling through the rigging, and halyards beating against the masts, almost vanished, to be replaced by a sound that would become all too familiar.

  Throughout the compartment people became ill, violently ill, and hard as one tried, it was impossible to block out the moaning and retching of the afflicted. Thankfully, most had the decency to suffer in the privacy of their curtained-off berths, or were now hurrying topside to find the nearest unoccupied section of railing.

  The area that they were to call home for the next two weeks was surprisingly large. Immediately adjacent to the staircase was a semi-enclosed area, topped by a waist high counter, under which numerous deep drawers had been fitted. These drawers, along with the larger cupboards, which were fitted to the hull side of the enclosure, contained the cutlery, crockery and all manner of pots and pans needed to feed the passengers. And finally, attached to a bulkhead at the bow end of the enclosed space, was a large metallic vessel containing hot water, which was heated from below by an iron firebox.

  Down the centre of the compartment, stretching from nearly one end to the other was an enormous table provided with benches on either side. To the right of the table was a cleared area including a few chairs and settees, allowing somewhere for the travellers to relax and socialize during inclement weather, whilst to the left, against the port hull, were the curtained-off sleeping areas for married couples and their families.

  Fitted below the deck head were numerous port holes, to allow the movement of air in and out of the interior and lockable from the inside by large wing nuts, while overhead were two large hatches, which when open provided extra light and more fresh air.

  Cameron and Mary’s little cubicle was not exactly grand. The hull made up one side of their little compartment, and heavy curtaining enclosed the other three. Under their lower berth, there was sufficient space to allow them to stow away their steamer trunk, whilst alongside their bunks there was just enough room for them to be able to stand up and get dressed. The berths themselves, although just of planked wood, did at least have a clean straw mattress, with two folded blankets provided for each occupant.

  ‘I think w
e need to put on some warm clothes and then find somewhere on deck to

  relax until supper time,’ Cameron said in hushed tones. ‘I don’t know about you…I felt fine until I came down here…but I’m no sure how long that will last.’

  A few minutes later, Cameron and Mary had put on some warmer clothing and were now standing at the bottom of the staircase reading the “RULES FOR PASSENGERS” posted on the notice board.

  MEALS & BED-TIME

  • Every passenger to rise at 7 a.m. unless ill

  • Breakfast 8 to 9 a.m., Dinner 1 p.m., Supper 6 p.m.

  • Passengers to be in their berths at 11 p.m.

  FIRES & ILLUMINATION

  • Fires will be lighted by one of the ship’s cooks at 7 a.m. and will be extinguished at 7 p.m. unless otherwise directed by the Master

  • The two safety lamps hung in the compartment will be lit at dusk

  CLEANING – BERTHS AND CLOTHING

  • All passengers to roll up their beds and sweep their spaces on a daily basis

  • After breakfast, the main compartment area will be completely swept and the dirt thrown overboard. A rota will be posted, to carry out these duties

  • Weather permitting, all beds to be well shaken on deck each day

  • Mondays and Thursdays are appointed as washing days. All washing and drying to be done on the main deck

  VENTILATION

  • Portholes and hatches (where fitted) to be kept open (weather permitting) from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m.

  • Main hatch to be left open at all times

  MISCELLANEOUS

  • Sundays (weather permitting) all passengers to muster on main deck at 10 a.m. in clean and decent clothes for Services – to be conducted by the Master

  • Any spirits or firearms brought on board must be given into the custody of the Master until the termination of the voyage

  • No gambling, fighting or swearing is allowed on board

  • No sailors are allowed on the passenger decks, without permission from the Master, and no passengers are permitted in or near the crew’s quarters in the forecastle at any time

  BY ORDER OF THE MASTER

  ‘Well I guess that just about covers everything. I wonder if we’ll have to walk the plank if we step out of line. And maybe we’re supposed to salute the crew as well,’ joked Cameron as they climbed up the staircase leading towards the deck.

  Supper that night was a sombre affair. At 6.00 p.m. sharp, the second-class passengers’ cook and three other seamen began to shuttle back-and-forth from the main galley, carrying iron pots of stew and baskets of freshly baked bread. From the fitted counter, plates of food were handed out to those partaking of supper – the baskets of bread having already been secured in holes cut into the table at regular intervals for just that purpose. Less than half of the passengers showed any interest in food, and of those, many downed only a few spoonfuls before sprinting topside. Cameron decided not to tempt fate, and remained sitting on deck drinking a cup of tea. Mary, on the other hand was hungry, and had a full helping, although she did take her plate of food up top to sit with her husband.

  After supper, Cameron and Mary strolled hand-in-hand around the ship, while the wound in their relationship slowly continued to heal.

  ‘By the way,’ said Mary, as they stared out at the sea from the quarterdeck. ‘What be all that palaver over the spellin’ of our name?’

  ‘I needed to lay a false trail, in case the police figured everythin’ out and came lookin’ for us.’

  ‘But why still use the name Stuart? Why not use somethin’ totally different?’

  ‘When I bought our tickets for the “Lady Elgin”, I gave them our correct names and paid in full, so there be a record of us going to Australia on that ship. Then, as I was about to put down a deposit for the reservation on this ship, they asked for some proof of identity. All I had in my pocket was my railway pass, which were in my real name. The only thing that I could think to do was tell them the railway had spelt my name incorrectly, and that they should have spelt it S.T.U.A.R.T. Not a great false name, I know, but better than nothin’.’

  Both of them silently watched the final smudge that was Ireland disappear astern, while at the same time, the last few greyish-white gulls wheeled away to the east – seemingly bored with the chase. With nothing left to look at, Cameron and Mary turned back towards the bow. Ten feet in front of them stood the two men manning the ship’s wheel. Both were stonily silent and stared straight ahead. The lower ranked seaman stood directly behind the wheel, with both of his hands resting on the spokes. Occasionally, his eyes would look down at what Cameron assumed must be the compass, before slowly lifting again to gaze towards the bow. Beside him on his right was the First Mate, palms together behind his back, looking to all as if he was completely relaxed. What most people failed to notice though, were his eyes, which continuously scanned from side-to-side and front-to-back, monitoring all parts of the ship.

  ‘Good evening…gentlemen. Sorry… but I’m no actually sure how we’re supposed to address you,’ Cameron said.

  ‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir,’ replied the First Mate. ‘Passengers are not allowed to talk to the helming crew at any time.’

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ Cameron said, taking Mary’s arm and continuing their stroll back towards the front of the ship.

  Mary sniggered as they descended the short steps from the quarterdeck to the passageway on the right side of the main deck.

  ‘My God, Cameron, you really may end up walking the plank.’

  ‘I hope all the crew are no goin’ to be as unsociable as those two. It’s beginnin’ to feel like we all be prisoners…and they be the guards!’

  Cameron and Mary continued their stroll and exploration of their temporary new home; neither of them wishing to return below decks. But both knew that moment would soon be upon them, as passengers were forbidden on deck once darkness fell. Stopping to stare over the bow at the slowly sinking sun, they were almost hypnotised, watching it change from yellow to orange and then blood red as it fell shimmering into the distant ocean. Twilight followed, and with it the wind began to abate. Once more the crew sprang into action, attaching larger sails to the rigging to make up for the loss of speed.

  Slowly wandering aft, but now on the port side of the ship, they passed another wide stairwell, which led down to the divided accommodation for single men and women; while just up ahead, a soft red glow was cast over the deck by the port running light, firmly attached to the foremast’s shrouds.

  Once again, Cameron and Mary stopped and leaned against the railing, staring out at the vast, darkening void; as the horizon rushed towards them and their world became the ship.

  Before long a bell rang out, and with the change of watch a member of the crew was dispatched to clear the decks of unauthorised persons. Arm-in-arm, Cameron and Mary turned and headed back to their nether world, knowing that this was surely to be a night they would not soon forget.

  ‘Take this,’ Mary said, handing Cameron a small vial of liquid from her pocket.

  ‘What’s…?’

  ‘’Tis eucalyptus oil. Put some on your top lip…just under your nose. Believe me …it’ll smell a lot better than tonight’s alternative.’

  Cameron lost track of how many times he was awakened by the dry retching of some poor soul, or the screaming of a baby whose mother could do nothing – she being just so ill. Mary didn’t get much rest either. But each time she threw back her blankets to go and help, Cameron’s firm hand stopped her.

  ‘Don’t,’ he whispered. ‘There’s nothin’ you can do. You’ll just make yourself ill. Besides, if you’re no careful, they’ll all be expectin’ you to clean up their mess… and that’s just not fair.’

  Over the next few days, everyone recovered from what they all feared was a near death experience. In the meantime, the weather was now perfect, and the ship pushed on at a good rate carrying every stitch of canvass she possessed. Shipboard life took on a routine – just like
life ashore – except now the ship became their village, and the sea out to the horizon their surrounding countryside. The mornings were occupied with cleaning and washing – cleaning of the ship coming first, followed by cleaning of one’s body. Twice a week, the washing of clothes was carried out in huge tubs on deck, followed by drying on lines strung up in the more sheltered areas.

  After their main meal, most passengers spent their afternoons on deck socialising with their fellow travellers, and because they were now isolated from the rest of the world, the passengers became intensively involved with each other. People, who only two days before were strangers, now became the best of friends – in fact almost part of the family – and worries and fears were expressed and shared, somehow making them easier to deal with.

  Because of Mary’s nursing experience, she unwittingly became the person to whom everyone brought their ailments – both physical and mental – and once her supposed healing abilities became known, even the ship’s crew began to consult her.