Though he was anxious to get away, he smiled, clearly happy that once again he could please Mary.
“I’ve got one in the stable. I use it to get in the hayloft.”
Still whispering, Mary told him that was excellent news and then in a louder than normal voice, added,
“Thank you for fixin’ Adie’s shoe, Daniel, but you better get on your way now. I don’t want to keep you from your duties.”
For a moment, Daniel looked confused, but then he grinned and with a ‘you’re welcome miss’, hurried away.
With him gone, Mary shut the door and said,
“Right, I don’t think we should waste any time. You put that money away, ‘cept for a sixpence o’ ’course. Then we’ll eat and be ready for when ’e comes back.”
My face must have betrayed what I was thinking, because she then answered the question I hadn’t even asked yet.
“Oh, and yes, I’m sure he’ll be back and we’ll need to be ready as soon as he lets us know what’s happening. I’ll get him to leave his ladder up against our window and then saddle up our horses and get them ready for us to go.”
I knew she was probably right, so even though I wasn’t hungry any more, as there was no telling when we’d have food again, I forced myself to eat. Mary ate as quickly as I did, but we’d barely finished when I caught a slight noise outside our window. Coming so soon after Daniel had left us, my only thought was that it had to be robbers come early to try and catch us off guard. So after first signalling to Mary what was happening, I picked up our pot and crept up to the window, intending to empty the contents over as many heads as I could. But before I reached it, Daniel’s anxious face appeared in the window.
“I didn’t have time to warn you. There are four of them getting ready to come up. You’ve got to go right now.”
Loud banging on the door proved his point for him and with an unnecessary “come on!” he started to move back down the ladder. It was unnecessary because followed by Mary, who had the rest of our belongings, I was already climbing onto the ladder. Reaching the bottom, Daniel had run across to the stable and was bringing the mares across, both already saddled and ready to go.
“I guessed you might be needing these earlier than you thought, so I got ’em ready when I was supposed to be bedding them down for the night.”
Suddenly, as I mounted my mare, there was the sound of fracturing wood followed by loud voices as they discovered we’d gone. I realised our mistake, but before I could open my mouth to call to Mary, Daniel, who had seen it even sooner, had covered the short distance back to the ladder and swung it away from the wall. He wasn’t a moment too soon, because as the ladder crashed to the ground the landlord’s face appeared at the window.
Mary called Daniel out of the darkness, but as he turned towards her, the landlord must have recognised her voice and spoke to the others in the room with him.
“Quick, they’re still here. Get out there and stop them.”
I knew if I’d heard what he said, then Mary must have done as well, but instead of hurrying to mount her horse, she started talking urgently to Daniel. After what seemed minutes, but was probably only seconds, she took hold of his hand and I saw the glint of silver as she gave him the sixpence she’d promised. Closing his fingers over the coin, she gave his hand one final squeeze, then letting go, finally started to mount her horse. She turned to give Daniel one final wave but he’d already disappeared into the night, so she kicked her horse into a gallop and with an infuriating,
“Come on, Adie, let’s go,” set off down the road. I had no time to protest that I had been ready and waiting while she caste her spell over Daniel, because at that moment the door from the pub burst open and two men, followed closely by the landlord’s wife, ran out. I kicked the horse and for a moment outrage gathered in her, before translating straight into a gallop. Her first pull was so strong that I almost lost my grip and after a couple of hundred yards, we caught and passed a surprised Mary, travelling at least a further mile before I managed to re-gain control and bring us to a halt.
By the time we stopped, Mary was a good distance behind us and I couldn’t repeat what she said when she caught up. The only repeatable, but also the most important thing she said, was that Daniel had given her directions to the Lieutenant’s homestead.
With Daniel’s directions, finding Lieutenant Granger was straightforward. Normally, we would have asked the landlord if he knew where the lieutenant could be found, but our night-time flit meant that wasn’t possible. Anyway, I’d tried to give the impression I knew him very well and so was bound to know where he lived. Daniel, who had definitely taken a shine to Mary, had been able to tell her that on leaving the army, the Lieutenant had received a land grant just outside Morpeth, where he and Catherine had built their homestead. He also gave her directions, which, even in the dark, were simple enough to follow.
We were greeted at the homestead by a plainly pregnant Catherine, clearly delighted to see me.
“Edward told me to keep an eye out for you ever since we moved,” she said, grinning happily. “He told me he knew you’d be along one day.”
It turned out that the Lieutenant had been made a magistrate since they moved to Morpeth and this often kept him from home.
“But I know he would hate to miss you,” she said anxiously. “You will stay and eat with us, won’t you? Edward will be home before it gets dark.”
Our only reason for being in Morpeth was to see the Lieutenant, so of course we stayed. We sat and talked, and me and Mary told Catherine all about our lives, even back to our lives in England and why we’d been arrested and transported. Catherine was interested in all we had to tell her, but really she was consumed by her pregnancy. The baby, she said, was due in July. It was natural, she said, that Edward hoped for a son, but though we had to promise not to tell him, she secretly hoped for a girl.
“There are so few women around here,” she complained. “A little girl would be a companion for me.”
She gave me a rueful smile and I thought how lonely she must be, waiting each day until her husband came home for some company.
Edward came home around six. Delighted to see me and glad to meet Mary, he confirmed (several times) that he’d told Catherine to expect me. Keen to hear our plans now we were free, he said he would help us in any way he could. So I told him about the money Jabez had left me, although I didn’t tell him how it had been earned, and said we were hoping he could help us find a suitable place in Morpeth to open a guest house. He thought this over for a minute or two, asked us a couple of questions about the nature of the establishment we intended to run – whether we were intending to offer beds for the night and then what about stabling. Finally he declared,
“Not Morpeth, I don’t think here would be the right place for you. It’s got an inn already and I don’t think its landlord would appreciate the competition. No, I think I’ve got a much better idea.”
Excited by his own thoughts, as he ploughed on he didn’t see the knowing smile that passed between me and Mary.
“About five miles down the river, there’s a new settlement going up on an island called Carrington. It’s not much yet, there’s only about fifty people living there at the moment, but it’s bound to grow.”
He went on to explain that Carrington already had a natural port and though it wasn’t widely known, Edward had learnt that a wool production firm would be opening soon.
“The thing is, they haven’t got a guesthouse,” he smiled and then added, “and they’re going to need one.”
If we were interested, he said he would accompany us to Carrington in the morning. Of course we were interested. It seemed an opportunity not to be missed. So, taking Edward’s suggestion, we wasted no time and went to Carrington early the next day. It was barely daybreak when we set off. Carrington was still waking up when we arrived, and when Edward led us through the centre of the settlement straight down to the river front, he was able to show us the plot he had in mind. It was
at least twice the size of any of the places we’d seen in Morpeth and that meant we would be able to build well back from the river, avoiding any chance of flooding and Edward pointed out just how close to the dock we would be. Lowering his voice, he added that he believed the wool production company would be built just beyond the dock.
I looked at Mary and asked her,
“Well, what do you think?”
She grinned and said,
“It’s a perfect spot, but I think you already know that.”
She was right of course, so turning back to Edward, I said,
“So what do we do now?”
“Well, that’s easy,” he said. “We go back to the homestead and you can explain to me exactly what you want. I’ll try and sketch what you describe, then, if you’re happy with what I’ve sketched, I’ll prepare the drawings. Now, I know some reliable men who can build it for you and if you’re happy for me to do it, I’ll oversee the work as well, so in fact all you’ll have to do is pay the bills.”
So that’s what we did. We described how the building was to be on two floors with a bar, lounge and kitchen downstairs, with upstairs only bedrooms. Because the plot was big enough, we asked for a stable not only for our mares, but one also large enough to take any of our guest’s horses. Edward asked many questions then drew and re-drew several sketches and it was almost midnight before we got to our beds – at least me, Mary and Catherine did. Edward said he would follow shortly but that he first needed to make secure the homestead. But when I got up early the next morning he was still sitting at the table where we’d left him, the floor around him covered with detailed drawings of every part of our guesthouse. Looking dishevelled and still wearing the clothes he’d worn the day before, he’d clearly been up all night.
As I entered the room, he put his quill down and looking at the drawing, said,
“Good.”
He said it to himself with a note of satisfaction, but then looking up noticed me for the first time.
“Good morning, Adie. I hope you slept well.”
I told him I had, and he said,
“I hope Mary will be up soon, I’ve finished the drawings, so as soon as the plot is yours, we can arrange for it to be built.”
We stayed on with Catherine and the Lieutenant right through the autumn and in the July, to the delight of them both, Marianne was born. Edward was bewitched by his daughter from the moment they met and completely forgot he’d wanted a boy. Had there been any fleeting moments of regret, they were soon washed away when he saw the look of love and satisfaction, on Catherine’s face.
We were glad for Catherine but I think Mary, like me, regretted she had no children of her own. We had little time to dwell on any regrets we might harbour because in early September the Boar’s Head was finished – we owed Jabez’ memory that much; after all, it was his money that had paid for it.
And work hadn’t finished a day too soon, because after we’d bought enough stock to get by, we opened with barely two pounds left. We opened our doors and waited expectantly for our first customer… and waited. We knew custom might be slow at first, at least until the wool production company started to be built, but we had hoped a few of the fifty or so current residents of Carrington would be curious enough to pay us a visit. Even though we’d told everyone when we were opening, we told each other they might have forgotten tonight was our first night. Consoled by that thought, we decided to close early, and I went to bolt the door. I’d just reached for the first of the three locks that would make the door secure overnight, when a form crashed through and landed at my feet. As it got to its feet, the bundle of rags became recognisable.
‘Daniel’ was all I said. I’d recognised him, but I should have been forgiven if I hadn’t, because apart from the state of his clothes, he’d clearly been severely beaten. We later discovered he was covered from head to toe in cuts and bruises and had a couple of cracked ribs.
But right then, all I could see was his face covered with blood, his bottom lip split and bleeding and his left eye completely closed. It had taken me only a moment to take all of this in, but before I could speak again, Daniel shut the door and while wrestling with the locks, pleaded,
“Adie, please help me. They’re after me and if I’m caught, I think they’ll kill me this time.”
There was real fear in Daniel’s voice, so while he pulled the top bolt, I tackled the bottom one. As soon as we were done, he collapsed in the nearest chair.
Transfixed, Mary had only watched up until then, but now, she asked him, “Who are they?”
When he didn’t answer her question, she asked again,
“Come on Daniel. Who is it?”
I don’t know whether he was ready to speak, but we’ll never know because a moment later there was a loud knocking at the door and an angry voice called out,
“Open the door. We know you’ve got him in there. Let us have him and I promise you’ll not have any trouble.”
Mary looked at me, like me she’d recognised the voice of the innkeeper from Morpeth.
“He stole from me and he’s got to pay for what he took.”
“He’s lying. I never stole anything from him.” Despite all the damage, Daniel’s face had drained. “I’ll tell you everything that’s happened, but please don’t let him in. He’ll kill me.”
A surge of anger coursed through Mary and she told Daniel to go and hide behind the bar.
The lad didn’t need telling twice. Without a word and after just a glance of gratitude, he scuttled away.
The innkeeper was getting impatient.
“I’ll count to three and if you haven’t unlocked this damn door, we’ll break it down.”
Looking round, Mary spotted and retrieved the short-handled axe we used to split logs too large for the fire. She clearly had no intention of giving up Daniel without a fight, so as the innkeeper’s count reached three, I rushed to our kitchen, returning with the largest knife I could find. Just as I returned, the locks resisted a third blow and it was clear the door surround was well made and the bolts of good quality. But they were already starting to move and after the fourth blow, I could see with the next one or, at most the one after, the bolts would fail. Mary had clearly come to the same conclusion because she readied herself for the inevitable; I did the same.
By some miracle, only the bottom bolt had failed. The top and middle bolts had held, but I knew the innkeeper was right when I heard him cry,
“Alright lads, one more push should do it.”
I looked at Mary. She just said,
“You ready?”
I nodded, although I didn’t see how the two of us, armed only with a knife and an axe, were going to resist a gang of determined men. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted some movement and looking round, saw that Daniel had come out of his hiding place and picked up the shovel from by the fire. I turned to him, I knew we had little time,
“Daniel, I know you want to help but I don’t think you can. Anyway, they can’t be sure you’re still here, can they?”
He smiled ruefully and said,
“Oh, they know I’m here alright. They wouldn’t be trying so hard to get in, if you weren’t trying just as hard to keep them out. No, they’ve told you why they’re here. If you had nothing to hide, simplest thing would be just to let ’em in. I bought this trouble down on you, the least I can do is help you defend the place.”
Raising the spade, he stood defiantly. I knew I couldn’t change his mind, so I turned towards the door. But before anything could happen, we heard the crack of a rifle followed by a shout. Both sounded some way off and it was impossible to work out what had been said, but whatever it was, the next blow to the door never came. Instead, we heard the sound of hooves approaching rapidly and when they reached the door, a familiar voice spoke. At that moment it was the voice I wanted to hear more than any other.
“Adie, it’s Edward. Everything’s alright now. You can open the door.”
Mary answered him,
“Edward. Thank God. Am I glad it’s you. The door’s almost off, I think the easiest way to open it would be if you give it one last blow.”
I could hear Edward talking to whoever was with him and then, after he told Mary to stand back, there was a crack and the door was off. With Edward, I recognised four convicts who worked on his homestead. His gun trained on the innkeeper and looking nowhere but at him and the two men with him, he spoke to us,
“None of you are hurt, are you?”
Mary glanced at me and I shook my head.
“No, we’re fine,” she said and breaking into a grin, she added, “and even better for seeing you.”
I suppose because I hadn’t spoken, he took his eye from the innkeeper and looking at me, said,
“So what’s the problem here then, Adie?”
Just as I started to tell him how I didn’t know much more than him, the innkeeper interrupted me. Again he started telling how Daniel had stolen from him and if we just handed him over, the three of them would be on their way.
Daniel, who still stood with the spade raised, took a step forward. I thought he was going to hit the landlord, evidently so did the landlord, who instinctively readied to defend himself. Edward didn’t move. He simply cocked his rifle. Ignoring both of them, Daniel said,
“You’re a liar, Matthew Francis. I’ll tell you all what happened.”
He explained that after he’d helped me and Mary to get away, he’d been forced into one of the bedrooms and kept there until he managed to escape. He said he’d been regularly beaten by the landlord and up to five other men.
“Including those two most of the time.” He glared at all three of them. “Four nights ago they beat me up so badly I knew they wouldn’t stop until they killed me.”
He went on to tell how the next night he’d worked loose one of the wall panels in the bedroom and despite his injuries, drop down to the road and slipped away into the night. Even though he’d twisted his ankle when he jumped, he walked all night, only finding a place to hide at first light, so terrified was he that they might catch him.
Admonition Page 39