Doggett nodded approvingly. ‘Don’t always stop them, mind, but it sure can help. Now, there are four things that will tell you where you are, any place in the world.’ He listed them on his fingers. ‘A chronometer, a sextant, a set of tables and a chart. Ever used any of them, Mr Cornishman born-to-the-sea?’
‘A chart,’ Cash said evenly. ‘None of the rest.’
‘Right,’ Doggett said. He scratched himself through the thick blue sweater he was wearing. ‘We’ll start there.’
*
Two days after Pelican’s departure for the south, two men boarded a sailing lugger at the jetty in Sydney Cove and travelled six miles down Port Jackson harbour to a point near the entrance where a sandy beach flanked the northern head. The crew dropped sail and rowed the lugger ashore. The two men landed and, accompanied by an armed member of the crew as protection against attack by natives or escapees, they climbed slowly up the steep slope until they reached the top.
The summit was flat and grassy, affording a fine view of the ocean and of the harbour behind and below them. The gale that had clawed Pelican had missed the coast and the swell was no higher than usual. The line of cliffs, the sea foaming at their foot, extended unbroken both to north and south until swallowed by the haze.
Ira Thornton’s gesture embraced the expanse of the open sea. ‘Tha sees what I mean? Put a signalling station up ’ere, we’ll know a ship’s arrival hours before anyone else.’
For once, Jonathan’s small green eyes were sparkling. ‘We can have a boat alongside before she’s halfway down the harbour.’
‘Put it in hand, then, shall we?’
‘I’ll have a word with the governor. Let him know what we’re doing.’
Thornton grunted. ‘Have a word with him and welcome, but there’ll be no trouble from that quarter, I’ll tell thee that.’
No, Jonathan thought. There wouldn’t be. He would never forget the way Crabbe had sent troops to search his new house. It had been an unforgivable insult. After it, when Thornton had been taken away, everyone had expected trouble. Yet half an hour later he had emerged from the governor’s office a free man.
I’d love to know what deal they came to, he thought now. But Thornton’s skeletal face, as always, gave nothing away.
‘No point hangin’ about. I’ll get some men up ’ere tomorrow to start work,’ Thornton said. He took Hagwood’s arm and bent his head close. ‘Couple of other things I wanted to talk about, while we’re up here. Confidential, like.’
Jonathan hated the ex-convict’s familiarity. There had been a great change in him since his pardon. One benefit was that he had dropped that exasperating mannerism of always referring to whoever he was addressing in the third person, but unfortunately he had also dropped the deference that had gone with it. There were times when Thornton acted as though he fancied himself as good as Jonathan himself. Nevertheless, he accompanied Thornton as he paced slowly over the turf, putting distance between them and the guard.
‘Next trip I want to put a man on Pelican,’ Thornton said, his smile cruel. ‘A spy.’
Jonathan shook his head. ‘Risky.’
Thornton looked out at the sea. He had removed his hat and the wind took his hair and blew it backwards from his forehead. ‘Money to be made from sealin’. I can smell it.’
‘Nothing to stop us equipping our own ship and sending her south.’
‘We ’as to know where the seals are first.’
‘Have a word with the captain when he gets back,’ Jonathan suggested. ‘Slip him something to tell you.’
‘I thought o’ that, but he owns half along with Gough Tremain. We’ll get nothing out o’ him.’
‘Gough’s sent his son along as well,’ Jonathan said.
Thornton’s face darkened. ‘God-rottin’ young bastards! I got a score to settle with those lads, never you fear. All the same, Gough sending him south is interesting, eh? Shows he think there’s money to be made.’
‘Why’s he gone, do you think?’
Thornton wagged his finger under Jonathan’s nose. ‘To learn, that’s why. Mark my words, next trip he’ll be ’avin’ a craft of his own. Then there’ll be a pair of them.’
The wind was chilly; Jonathan drew his coat closer about him. ‘Must be room for others,’ he agreed.
‘Especially if one of ’em don’t come back.’ Thornton’s eyes were rimmed with pink and there were tears on his cheeks from the cold wind. ‘I got plans for Master Tremain,’ he said.
Jonathan was disconcerted. ‘I’ll have nothing to do with anything like that.’ Double-dealing was one thing but Thornton was talking about something that sounded uncommonly like murder. ‘In any case, it would surely cost a lot to buy and fit out our own sealer?’
‘It would that. Trouble wi’ spendin’ all thy brass on a grand house, bain’t it?’
Jonathan flushed angrily. He had called men out for less but before he could speak Thornton said, ‘That’s t’ other thing we ’as to talk about. Next ship comes in, we should do a deal with the master. Buy whatever he’s got on board – don’t matter what – and charter him to go north to Batavia for us. Come back with a shipload of grog.’
‘A shipload? Can we get rid of so much?’
The cold wind numbed their cheeks. Thornton wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Good as guineas, grog. Better.’
Jonathan remembered how Gough Tremain had laughed at his worries about shifting the ten thousand gallons that had arrived on Virginia. They had certainly had no problem then; they would probably have none now – the colony had grown since Virginia. Besides, Thornton had his own outlets.
‘The next week or two would be ideal,’ Jonathan said. ‘With Gough on the Hawkesbury and Cash away sealing, there’s no competition. Of course, we’ve no idea what sort of cargo a merchantman would have.’
Thornton said, ‘Only reason any ship puts in here is because the captain reckons he’s got summat he can sell. This colony needs just about everything it can get. I doubt there’ll be anything on board we can’t sell.’ He was staring over Jonathan’s shoulder at the open sea, thin lips twisted in what, in someone else, might have been a smile. ‘Tha wants to know summat funny?’
‘What?’
‘Take a look.’
Jonathan turned. Through the haze that partially obscured the sea, he could make out the topsails of a large, three-masted barque standing in towards the harbour entrance.
‘I’ll not believe it!’
‘There’s thy merchantman. See what I mean? With the signal station in place and a couple of repeaters along the coast, we’d be hearing about yon ship’s arrival even before she’s through the Heads.’
‘As we have now.’
‘As we have now,’ Thornton agreed. ‘Let’s get back down to t’ beach. Happen we can board her afore she’s passed us.’
*
An hour later, Jonathan Hagwood and Ira Thornton went alongside the fourteen-gun merchantman Orion of Charleston, South Carolina, as she came through the Heads into Port Jackson harbour.
The master, Captain Orville Jones, a dapper man with fine-drawn features and killer’s eyes, escorted them to his cabin and served them mash bourbon whisky as his vessel made its slow and stately way up the harbour towards Sydney Cove.
The cabin was light and airy – clean white paint, good quality mahogany furnishings, brass porthole covers shining. Jones himself was tall and slightly-built and wore clean white knee breeches, buckled shoes with white silk stockings and a green claw-hammer coat trimmed with gold.
Thornton looked him over as he sipped from the glass that Jones had pushed into his hand.
More like a poxy fop than the captain of a fighting ship, he thought, but he took note of the pistol Jones carried in his belt, the dirk in a leather sheath on his hip. Orion was in good trim, too: walking to the captain’s cabin he had observed the clean state of the decks, the tightness of the rigging.
‘Good trip, Captain?’
‘Passable, gentlemen
, thank you.’
‘Out of where?’
‘Five weeks from Canton.’
‘Excellent whisky,’ Jonathan said, lifting his glass to the light. Its contents glowed as he tipped it down his throat.
Jones’s eyes were cold in his sun-browned face. ‘Thank you, sir. Back home, we take a pride in our whisky.’ He lifted his hand an inch and at once his black cabin steward, bare-foot and deferential, moved to top up their glasses. Thornton put his hand over his glass.
‘Tha’ll have to forgive me, Captain. Grand whisky, like tha says, but too soon in the day for me.’ He tapped the side of his skull and made a joke of it – he knew how thin-skinned these southern Americans could be. ‘Weak head, tha knows.’
‘Indeed, sir?’ Jones’s blade-thin smile did not reach his eyes. ‘I would never have suspected you of suffering from such an affliction.’
The land slid silently past the cabin windows. The hull creaked gently, barely swaying in the calm water.
‘’appen tha’s got a cargo for sale, Captain?’ Thornton enquired.
‘I do, sir.’
‘Might we ask what it is?’
‘A mixed cargo, gentlemen. Cloth, flour, salted meat, fruit and vegetables from the islands, and a quantity of arms and ammunition.’
‘Arms and ammunition, eh?’ Thornton frowned. ‘This be tha first visit to the colony, Captain?’
‘It is indeed, sir.’
‘Happen it’d be a good idea if I told thee how things work here, then. There’s a government store run by the colony. It’ll buy most everything tha wants to sell except mebbe the weapons.’ He appealed to Jonathan. ‘What would tha say, Mr Hagwood? Will the store buy the captain’s guns and ammunition?’
Jonathan shook his head. ‘Little chance of it, I fear.’
Jones’s expressionless eyes moved like gun muzzles over the faces of his visitors. ‘Well, now, gentlemen, I have to admit that surprises me. I understood you had natives here that have been known to attack the settlers.’
‘Quite right, Captain.’ Thornton placed his glass on the mahogany table and leant forward, speaking earnestly. ‘Trouble is, the whole colony be a penal settlement. Government’s none too keen to have much in the way of weapons floating around.’
‘All the more reason to buy supplies itself, surely? To keep them under its own control?’
Thornton shook his head. ‘Weapons be province of the military. Guns come from Britain. The New South Wales Corps controls everything in that line, but I doubt they’d be interested in getting supplies from any place else.’
Jones’s mind worked swiftly. If he couldn’t sell the guns, there’d be no profit on the voyage.
‘And what is your role in all this, gentlemen?’
‘Mr Hagwood be an officer in the New South Wales Corps,’ Thornton said. ‘I be a merchant.’
Jones looked at Jonathan. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of entertaining the military?’
Thornton answered for him. ‘Because damn fools in t’ Home Office in London made up their minds that members of the New South Wales Corps can’t trade. Right foolish decision, in my view, Captain, but tha knows what governments be like. So Mr Hagwood, here, he’s along as a sort of adviser, like. A consultant.’
‘On armaments?’
‘On everything.’
Jones’s finger ends drummed on the surface of the table. ‘I take it you gentlemen have a proposal to put to me?’
Thornton said, ‘I’m willing to make an offer for thy whole cargo, if that’s what tha means.’
Jones frowned. ‘Including the guns?’
‘And ammunition.’
‘How can you do that? If the military controls all armaments?’
Jonathan answered. ‘The military does not prohibit the private ownership of weapons, Captain Jones. What my colleague has been explaining is that the colony will not buy your guns. Private individuals may.’
‘How can you be so sure the government won’t buy my guns?’
Thornton said, ‘One of Mr Hagwood’s responsibilities is administering the government store.’
Jones whistled under his breath as he sat back in his chair. ‘How much?’
‘For the cargo excluding guns, two per cent above store price. Subject to inspection, of course.’
‘And the guns?’
‘We’ll have to talk about that.’
Jones looked at them both in turn. So that was where the haggling would come in. Well, he’d expected nothing less. ‘I will certainly bear your offer in mind, gentlemen.’
‘Tha thinks tha can get better some place else, tha’s welcome to try, Captain.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Sarcastically.
‘Not many other traders to deal with, tha understands. Certainly none that can buy thy whole cargo. I can and my offer stands. One condition, mind, but that be as much for thy benefit as mine.’
‘What is your condition?’
‘Soon as cargo’s offloaded, I charter this ship to go to Batavia.’
‘What cargo?’
‘Outwards, in ballast. Coming back, liquor.’
‘A whole shipload?’ Unconsciously, Jones echoed Jonathan’s words.
‘That’s right, Captain. A whole shipload.’
A pause. Jones walked to the big stern window and stared out at the passing land. After so long at sea, everything looked very green.
‘Your convicts must be powerful thirsty men, gentlemen.’
‘Their condition of life encourages it,’ Jonathan said.
Jones turned and walked back across the cabin. ‘Let me be sure I’ve got this right. You’re telling me I have two choices. I can sell to the government store or I can sell to you, Mr Thornton. Is that it?’
‘Except government store won’t buy tha weapons.’
‘But I am at liberty to sell them privately, if I can?’
‘Tha can that, likely at a better price, too. But then tha’s looking at being stuck in port here for weeks, even months, and no guarantee of a charter at the end of it. Time’s money, Captain – we all knows that. Tha won’t mind me sayin’ tha’d be soft in t’ head to deal with anyone else.’
‘No other merchants, eh?’
‘None what can make thee an offer like this.’
‘Maybe I’ll have a look around first, all the same. No offence, Mr Thornton.’
Thornton said, ‘Thee’d be a fool to do owt else, Captain, and I don’t read thee as being soft in the head, no more’n what I am.’
*
Thornton and Jonathan went ashore before Orion’s anchors were down. Thornton stood on the deck of the lugger and looked back at the barque they had just left as it rounded up into the wind in the entrance to the cove. ‘Good as gold,’ he said, and rubbed his hands.
Jonathan kept his eyes on the approaching shore. His mouth was tight and a frown creased his forehead. Since he was not allowed to trade, they had agreed that Thornton should lead the discussion with the American captain. All the same, he resented the necessity; how he resented it. It was not in his nature to take a back seat in anything.
‘What makes you so sure he’ll deal?’
‘He’ll deal, right enough.’
‘Gough Tremain could make him an offer for his cargo, too, you know.’
‘Gough ain’t ’ere.’ Thornton looked about him with satisfaction as they came alongside the jetty. ‘Gough should have appointed an agent but he didn’a. Who’s to say when he’ll be back? Or that damn son of his? Why should Jones wait? Like I said, time’s money.’
The two men stepped from the coaming of the boat onto the wooden steps at the end of the jetty, climbed swiftly to the top and strode side by side towards the landward end.
‘I got another thought,’ Thornton said, and shot a shrewd sideways glance at his companion. ‘What’s to stop government store buying all Orion’s cargo?’
Jonathan frowned. ‘We said –’
‘I knows what were said,’ Thornton interrupted. ‘But I be askin
g thee, what’s to stop it?’
‘Nothing, of course.’
‘Nothing,’ he repeated. ‘Right. Like I thought.’
‘I don’t understand …’
‘Brass,’ Thornton said. ‘How’s tha going to put up thy share, eh?’
Jonathan flushed. ‘You needn’t worry about that.’
‘Aye, but I do worry about it. I knows how much that house of yourn cost, remember.’ Thornton forestalled Jonathan’s angry reply. ‘I’m saying this – why put up the money, at all?’
‘Captain Jones will hardly accept our credit.’
‘Let the store buy his goods. On our behalf, like. When we sell, we sell from t’ store. Colony gets its money back, we get profit. Only fair – we’ve done the work, after all.’
‘We offered him two per cent over store price.’
‘Not hard to fix prices when tha’s in charge of t’ store.’
‘What about the weapons? We can’t buy them through the store. The governor would never agree.’
‘For the weapons we pays cash.’ Thornton smiled companionably and placed a friendly hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. ‘Don’ worry thy head about that. If tha can’t manage it, I’ll be takin’ thy share off thy hands.’
Jonathan shook his head, irritation mounting. ‘I’ll buy my own share.’
I might just be able to manage it, he thought. If the store finances the rest.
‘As tha wishes.’ Thornton’s voice was indifferent. ‘Just thought I’d offer a helping hand, like.’
They reached the end of the jetty.
‘Summat to show thee.’
Thornton led the way towards the western arm of the cove, where a new building was going up. It had got no further than the wooden framework but Jonathan could see it would be of substantial size, with embryo cargo bays jutting out over the water. It had gone up very quickly: he’d been down from Parramatta only ten days before and there had been no sign of it then. Workmen scurried all over it, working with the devil under their tails.
‘What does tha think o’ that, eh?’ Thornton said proudly.
Jonathan looked at him in astonishment. ‘This is yours?’
By way of answer, Thornton led him to the other side of the building and pointed at a sign, proudly painted in green and gold, that had been nailed above the skeleton doorway.
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