‘It will need to be tested by the courts, of course.’
‘Does the law-abiding citizen inform the Company when he knows a cargo is being loaded for London or does he not?’
Owen’s eyes were alert. ‘Do you know of such a cargo?’
‘I am talking hypothetically. But if one should hear …’
‘I would expect to be told.’
‘I’ve nae use for informers,’ Carter said.
‘The rule of law is of vital interest to all of us,’ Somers pronounced weightily. ‘Especially here, in a penal settlement.’
‘Why here and no’ elsewhere?’
‘I did not exclude other places, sir.’ A rising heat touched the Judge-Advocate’s cheeks. ‘I was making the point that here, in particular, the rule of law must be seen to be inviolate. Like iron, sir! Like iron!’
Jonathan helped himself to port from the decanter at his elbow and addressed Captain Owen. ‘If you find a vessel you suspect is breaking the Company’s monopoly, what are your powers?’
‘Board and search.’
‘And if you find anything?’
‘We escort the vessel to port and if the court finds in our favour both ship and cargo are confiscated.’
‘Monstrous,’ Carter said.
‘It is the same principle that applies in the case of smuggled goods. Would you have the Crown permit the free passage of brandy and wines from the Continent to Britain?’
‘Aye,’ Carter said. ‘I would.’
‘I have a colleague who would probably agree with you,’ Jonathan said.
Captain Owen was quick to change the subject – he knew a political remark when he heard one. ‘With trade developing, I anticipate Pluto will be in these waters a lot more in future.’
‘A familiar face is always welcome,’ Jonathan said.
Owen turned to the merchant. ‘How about you, Mr Carter? How long do you expect to be in these waters?’
‘A while yet. I might head further east before returning to Calcutta.’
‘A worthwhile trip?’ Jonathan asked.
‘Interesting,’ Carter allowed. ‘Very interesting indeed.’
They finished their port and rose to join the ladies. At the door, Captain Owen put his hand on Jonathan’s sleeve.
‘What sort of cargo were you talking about just now? Hypothetically, of course?’
‘Sealskins and oil.’
‘Your captain would have to be mad.’
‘Why so?’
‘Exporting to England he risks a long journey with the possibility of losing his vessel at the end of it.’
‘Where else should he go?’
‘Canton, of course. Excellent markets there. Unlimited.’
‘Is that so?’ Jonathan was interested. ‘Should I hear of anyone tempted to go the other route, perhaps I will pass on your suggestion. If I may.’
Owen nodded. ‘By all means. And if you should receive any information …’
Their eyes met.
‘I shall see that you get it, yes.’
*
Pelican arrived back at Sydney Cove after a successful voyage of nearly three months. Cash was relieved to see the Heads open up before them: relations with Wilkes had been strained after the episode of the girl.
‘You let her out!’
‘No.’
‘You telling me that bolt came undone by itself?’
‘I had nothing to do with it.’
They both knew he was lying but would never admit it.
‘The men won’t be happy.’
‘All the more incentive to get back to Sydney Cove as fast as they can. Plenty of girls there.’
There had been no trouble but Cash knew Doggett felt he had let him down, and the atmosphere between them remained strained. Gough, when Cash told him the story, agreed with the American.
‘But they were going to kill her!’ protested Cash.
‘No business of yours if they had.’
Cash stared. ‘You think I should have shut my eyes to it?’
Outside the cottage windows, the spring sunshine played over the waters of the harbour where a number of ships were lying at anchor. Pelican had offloaded down the coast and now joined Boddingtons, a transport that had arrived a week earlier, the East Indiaman Pluto, and an American barque Orion that Gough had told him was just back from Batavia with a cargo for Ira Thornton.
‘You can’t always be putting the world to rights,’ Gough told him. ‘Leave that to fools like Benjamin Vowles and the chaplain.’
‘The convicts are sent here for theft and you condone murder?’
‘I condone nothing!’ Gough ran his hands through his mane of black hair. ‘Like it or not, the people of the colony look on the natives as animals who have no more rights than seals. You had no trouble killing them, did you?’
‘I got used to it.’
Gough busied himself with a bottle and glasses. He handed a drink to Cash and lifted his own.
‘In every other respect a successful voyage,’ he said. ‘Nine thousand skins. Exceeded my highest expectations.’
‘And two hundred tons of oil.’ Cash drank. ‘What are you going to do with them?’
‘You’re asking me?’ Gough’s dark eyes laughed. ‘What do I know about these things? I’m just a poor soldier. You’re the trader – what are you going to do with them?’
‘Centaur’s been away, how long, almost five months, now. She should be back soon. If we can get a full cargo together, I think it might be time to send her to London, as you suggested to Pike.’ He looked at his father. ‘What do you think of that?’
‘London?’ Gough whistled. ‘Some gambler, that’s what I’m thinking. What happens if the East Indiaman arrests her?’
‘She won’t. Not if we load down the coast like before.’
‘She’ll still have trouble when she gets to London. The courts confiscate her, we lose the lot.’
Cash placed his empty glass on the table and, unbidden, poured himself another. ‘You told me yourself, Dad, we have to stand on our own feet. That’s true of the colony, too. We should have the right to trade direct. We should not be compelled to do everything through the East India Company. What’s the Company got to do with us? I say to hell with their monopoly.’
Gough pondered. ‘Where are you getting the rest of your cargo?’
‘Doggett told me there are groups of escaped convicts living all through the southern islands. They can catch seal for us.’
‘Never, by heavens!’ Gough banged his empty glass down. ‘I’ll not trade with escapees! It’s against every principle this colony stands for.’
‘Principles?’ Cash sneered. ‘Imprison the thieves and let the murderers go free? Grant pardons to men like Ira Thornton?’
‘Tes not that simple!’
‘They’ve escaped, Dad. They’re free men.’
‘Not what the law says.’
‘What they are. Where’s the harm in trading with them?’
‘Never in my ship!’
Slowly Cash leaned forward so he was face to face with his father. ‘She’s not your ship. She’s mine. You’re not permitted to trade. Remember?’
The two men glared at each other, flames in their eyes. Cash stiffened as his father clenched his fists. Then Gough laughed, picked up his glass and drained it.
‘Wilkes Doggett was right.’
‘About what?’
‘He said anyone with the guts to do what you did and the luck to get away with it was certain to succeed in this world.’
Cash was pleased. ‘I’ll make sure of that.’
‘You’re right,’ Gough said. ‘Tes your business. I’ll give you whatever support you want. Advice, help, all that. But you must do what you think’s best. Just don’t lose my – your – boat, that’s all.’ He looked searchingly at his son. ‘Something else I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘What’s that?’
‘We got a problem with young Cuddy. She was attacked some while back and won’t te
ll us who it was.’
*
The next morning, the dapper figure of a man wearing shore-going togs – green tailcoat edged with gold and lined with crimson, white breeches and silk stockings, a dirk in a leather sheath on his hip – settled himself in the stern sheets of a small cutter and was rowed ashore by two black-skinned sailors.
At the jetty he sprang ashore and, without a word to his crew, strode briskly along the newly-constructed wharf until he reached the new building that now dominated the waterfront.
Inside the entrance, he paused and looked about him.
Ira Thornton’s building looked very different from when Captain Orville Jones had seen it last. No dirt and commotion now. The spacious warehouse and cargo bays were completed. The only noise came from the barrels that a group of stevedores was busy unloading from the lighter that lay alongside the wharf – the first of the cargo he had brought from Batavia. There were piles of timber and sacks of grain in the warehouse and plenty of space for more goods: Thornton’s business was clearly on the move.
Jones was directed up a flight of stairs leading to the floor above, where two offices had been built above the warehouse. The first door stood open. He looked inside. Two clerks sat on stools in front of high, inclined desks covered with pieces of paper. He walked on to the second door, which was shut, and knocked on it.
‘What is it?’
Jones smiled; he had found his man. He opened the door. ‘Mr Thornton, good morning to you, sir.’
Thornton leapt to his feet, hand outstretched. ‘Welcome back, Captain. Good trip, was it?’ His tone was jovial, quite different now he knew whom he was addressing.
He gestured to a chair in front of the large wooden desk that stood at one end of the room. Jones sat and looked about him. Two windows faced the distant Heads. Both stood open to the breeze which brought with it the smell of the harbour. Through them the captain could see the vessels lying in the cove and hear the voices of the stevedores on the wharf, the rumble of barrels being offloaded from the lugger.
The floor of the office was covered by a Turkey carpet, the walls lined with paper patterned in silver and maroon. In addition to the desk, there were two straight-backed mahogany chairs and a side table with silver candlesticks. Overhead, a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling.
‘Drink, Captain?’ Thornton offered.
Jones shook his head. ‘As you told me yourself on an earlier occasion, it’s a bit too soon in the day for me.’ He gestured towards the windows. ‘The cargo’s already coming ashore.’
‘Good, good. Time’s money, as I told thee on the same occasion.’
‘You’re absolutely right, sir. So I’ll come straight to the point. I’ve sold you two cargoes now and I want to ask, what are the prospects for more trade between us?’
Thornton studied him carefully. Jonathan Hagwood had conveyed to him Captain Owen’s views about Canton as a suitable port for the delivery of sealskins but before he could enrol the dapper American in such a venture he needed the answer to two questions. ‘I’d say that’s up to you, Captain.’
‘And what is that supposed to mean?’
Thornton sat forward, pale eyes glowing. ‘Far as imports be concerned, this colony’s going to be an open market for a long time to come.’ He waved his hand towards the window. ‘Liquor gives us the quickest turn-around now but it’s only a start. Virtually everything is needed here, from boots to cannonballs, and it’s all got to come from outside.’
‘That will change in time.’
‘Not for a long time yet. Problem is, of course, we’ve nowt to export in its place.’
Jones shrugged, stretching out his legs. ‘So long as there’s enough money to pay for incoming cargoes …’
‘That be t’ whole point,’ Thornton said impatiently. ‘There won’t be enough to pay for anything. This colony’s like every place else – it’s got to pay its way. Until it’s got goods to export, that can’t happen.’
Jones examined his fingernails. ‘I don’t see how I can be of any help.’
‘Ah, well, tha sees, I think I may have come up with summat we can export.’
Jones said nothing but his eyes were as bright as a bird’s in his tanned face. ‘And what is that?’
Thornton made up his mind. ‘A grand market overseas for sealskins, Captain Jones.’
Jones frowned. ‘You’re asking me to go sealing?’
Thornton laughed. ‘Bless you, Captain, nowt like that. Tha needs special boats for sealin’. Special men, an’ all. Got to be rough and tough, down south.’
‘I can say my crew is as rough and tough as any,’ Jones said evenly, ‘but Orion is not a sealer.’
‘What I be saying is this, if skins be available, be you willing to transport ’em for me?’
Jones rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I can’t take them to England. Your damned Navigation Acts take care of that.’
‘Not to England, Captain. To Canton. I has it on good authority there be an excellent market for sealskins in Canton. We might be able to find some cedar wood, too, to go with ’em.’
‘What rates?’
‘First trip we splits profits fifty-fifty. After that, we talks again.’
Jones was at once on his guard. ‘That is uncommonly generous, Mr Thornton.’
Ira grinned grimly. ‘’appen tha won’t think so, Captain, when I says what tha has to do to earn it. That’s only for first trip, mind. Here to Canton and back. Sealskins and oil out, liquor and maybe some silks and quality furniture back.’
‘Silks and quality furniture?’ Jones raised his eyebrows. ‘You think you’ll be able to sell that sort of thing in New South Wales?’
Thorton’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’ tha start patronising this colony, Captain, not if tha wants to trade ’ere! There’s folks here that’s goin’ to get rich. When they do, they’ll be lookin’ for the geegaws to prove it.’
Jones backed off at once. ‘My apologies, Mr Thornton. Of course you know your market better than I do.’
‘Aye, I does, an’ don’ thee be forgettin’ it.’ He drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the surface of the desk. ‘Five minutes gone, tha told me thy men were a rough and tough bunch. Be that right?’
‘I’d match them, man for man, with any crew afloat.’
‘Goes for captain, too, does that?’
Orville Jones’s killer eyes stared coldly through his smile. ‘Try me,’ he suggested softly.
‘I be thinkin’ of doin’ just that, Captain.’ Thornton considered one last time, made up his mind. ‘For now, I got a load o’ timber I wants thee to take to Batavia for me. Come back wi’ grog, same as usual. Same rates as last time.’
‘Now?’
‘Aye. Quick as tha can make it. When tha’s back, we’ll talk again ’bout sealin’. You see, Captain, there be a problem about t’ first cargo. We needs to acquire it, you might say. Tell me, how keen are you on doin’ business? For fifty per cent of the profit, like I said?’
‘You want me to kill someone for you?’ No smile, only the still eyes, watching.
Thornton did not smile, either. ‘It might be more than one.’
TWENTY-ONE
Every hour Jane waited, and hated, and waited again.
‘Mr Tremain is back,’ Elinor said.
Her mother said nothing but Jane could read in her eyes that she knew, too. Everybody knew, as of course they must. Everybody watched her, to see what would happen. So far nothing had happened.
‘So he is back,’ she said and tossed her head. ‘What of it?’
She could always quell Elinor but it was less easy to quell herself. She remembered how she had talked Elinor into paying that evening visit to the Tremain house, the rain and the gathering dusk making it even more of an adventure, the two of them giggling together, thinking it exciting, thinking themselves daringly at odds with convention, to find … what they found. The memory brought the blood to her cheeks.
I was a fool to show my feelings, she tho
ught. I am wiser now. The trouble was, she didn’t feel wiser. Only humiliated.
She shuddered as she remembered her plans for the night of the Hagwood ball. Her mind refused to acknowledge them, even now, but her heart remembered. Cash had not come, that was the only reason nothing had happened. Thank God! she thought, yet the memory, perversely, remained an aggravation to her. Even in that he had no regard for her. He was like all the rest. A woman was something to pick up and put down as it suited him. She told herself she was glad he had not called on her since his return.
She had seen him once, at a distance, and had thought him more handsome than ever, but he had not seen her.
If only she had someone she could talk to! She sadly missed a confidante. Elinor was hopeless, her mother worse. She loved her father, despite his pompous ways, but there were things you could not discuss with a man.
One day, a week after Cash’s return, Judge-Advocate Somers paid one of his regular visits to the Parramatta Court House. There was less business than usual and, the tides being suitable, he intended to travel up in the early morning and return to Sydney Cove the same evening. Jane went with him.
At first he had been reluctant.
‘I am going on business,’ he said. ‘There will be no time for gallivanting.’
‘It will be beautiful along the river,’ she coaxed him, ‘with the flowers coming out.’
The flowers were indeed coming out. Spring had arrived and every day the weather grew warmer. The sun, which had deserted them, had now returned.
‘What will you do with yourself?’
She smiled. ‘I shall call on Mrs Hagwood.’
‘What if she is from home?’
‘I shall send her a note to make sure she is not.’
She did so and the next day had a reply saying that Jane would be very welcome to call when she was in Parramatta.
The journey was as delightful as she had hoped. The countryside was green and beautiful and on either side of the river the newly-prepared fields lay dark and moist under a sky of the softest blue.
Mr Somers might have no time for gallivanting but nevertheless he felt it his duty to escort his daughter to the Hagwoods’ door. Jane did not. It was her adventure and she wanted to arrive alone. She persuaded him without difficulty and so he left her, with much dubious shaking of the head, at the bridge.
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