Blackbird

by David Crookes

  `How could you not know. After all, Catherine is your wife.'ﾁ

  Christian Blue's eyebrows rose in surprise.

  Charles stared into the table.

  Vivian drew a deep breath.

  `Captain Blue. I am visiting Queensland as the official representative of the Exeter Hall

  Society. It is an organization which is committed to putting an end to the exploitation of

  Melanesians in the sugar plantations of Queensland. On behalf of the society, I am prepared

  to pay eight hundred pounds for the Faithful, providing the ship's logs and diaries

  substantiating all this go with the vessel. I shall give you a hundred and fifty pounds as soon

  as you take me back to the Southern Star and the balance on delivery of the brigantine in

  Brisbane. I can assure you the vessel will never again be used for the transportation of blacks,

  but will become a symbol of the Exeter Society's fight for a permanent end to the labor-trade.

  I will also undertake to tell the girl's husband where she is at the first opportunity.' Christian Blue rose from the table and took Vivian's hand in his. `Mrs Stokes,' he said

  softly, 'what a pleasure it is to do business with such a dedicated and lovely lady.'

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Vivian resisted all Charles' approaches during the passage southward inside the Great Barrier Reef to Brisbane, even to the extent of confining herself to her cabin to avoid seeing him.

  It wasn't until a week later, when the Southern Star reached the mouth of the Brisbane River and passed beneath the gaunt battlements of Castlecraig, that she came to where he was standing among a crowd of passengers on forward deck.

  `Goodbye Charles,' she whispered quickly, and just for a second squeezed his hand tightly. Then, before he could say a word, she turned and hurried away.

  Less than an hour later, tugs had positioned the steamer alongside the Newstead wharf. Charles had resolved to confront Catherine over the Faithful affair just as soon as he saw her. But the only face he recognized in the large crowd gathered on the wharf to greet the ship, belonged to Silas Moser, and for the moment he decided to keep the matter to himself.

  Moser greeted Charles warmly, then told his driver to take them directly to the Colonial Club.

  `Well done Charles.' Moser said as they sipped sherry at the bar. `The letters I received from Fairweather attest to the sterling job you did for us in London, and the last wire we received from the vessels, sent while coaling in Colombo, advised that they expect to arrive in Queensland waters early next month.'

  `I'm so glad you're satisfied, Silas,' Charles said. `And how are things going at this end? How is Shamus McClintock doing with the meat exporter's syndicate?'

  `Over-subscribed. We now have more signed-up and paid-up producers than we require to keep the two vessels plying steadily between Brisbane and London.'

  `That's wonderful. Now tell me.What has been happening in the colony while I've been away?'

  Moser signaled to the bartender for more sherry. `A great deal Charles. To start with, Sam Griffith and his liberals were thrown out of power less than a month ago. It was inevitable. They brought the sugar industry to its knees. Everyone knows you can't run a sugar plantation without blacks—most of all the banks.With the ending of the labor-trade looming up in just eighteen months, the plantations have been unable to raise a penny in capital.'

  `How will it all affect us Silas?'Charles asked. `I mean, will the new conservative government allow the labor-trade to continue?'

  `I think so. After all, they have to save the sugar industry.'

  Charles took a deep breath. `Silas, I saw the Faithful at Thursday Island.'

  Moser's eyes narrowed. `And?'

  `Christian Blue, the American captain of the Mendocino Trader, told me he claimed her when he found her abandoned in the Solomon Sea after a tropical storm. He said Bates was the only survivor.'

  `Yes, yes, I know all that Charles. Our agent on Thursday Island telegraphed me as soon as she arrived there. Even though the islands are alive with labor ships, all trying to fill orders for blacks before the trade is ended, at incidentally, the highest prices ever paid, I decided not to contest Blue's claim to ownership, in favor of taking the insurance money. But now we have a new government which will probably allow the trade to continue, we may well have to think again.'

  `Christian Blue tried to sell the Faithful back to me,' Charles said.

  `For how much?'

  `Fifteen hundred pounds.'

  Moser's tight lips stretched into a smirk. `He has his mouth open a little wide wouldn't you say Charles?'

  `That's what I told him.'

  `So what was the outcome?'

  `He sold her to a young woman aboard the Southern Star for eight hundred.'

  `A woman! What woman?

  `Mrs Vivian Stokes.' Charles' eyes avoided Moser's. `An Englishwoman. I met her in London at Percival Fairweather's home. She's his niece, and an observer with the Exeter Hall Society.'

  `My God!' Moser snapped. `Just what we need. Another bleeding heart beating the nigger's drum, on top of all those in New South Wales and Victoria. Tell me, what on earth is she planning to do with the Faithful?'

  `I really don't know Silas. I think the purchase was an impulse thing really, some sort of protest. She really feels very strongly about the Melanesian labor cause.'ﾁ

  `Where is the Faithful now?'

  `On her way south. Mrs Stokes is taking delivery here in Brisbane.'

  `And you said this woman is Fairweather's niece?'

  `Yes.'

  `Fine way for Fairweather and Fox to repay us for all our years of loyal custom, isn't it Charles?'

  `It's very difficult for Percival,' Charles replied. `I know for a fact, he's deeply concerned by her involvement in something which could affect his company's relationship with Stonehouse's.But Vivian really is a most delightful lady.'

  Charles suddenly wished he hadn't called Vivian by her Christian name when Moser's eyebrows shot up, and his cold grey eyes stared questioningly into his own.

  `I've never made a lengthy ocean passage myself' Moser said, eyebrows still raised, `But I'm told they are extremely conducive to the forming of intense personal relationships which are rarely sustained on dry land.'

  Charles looked away.

  Moser turned his head and slowly looked around the member's lounge. A few faces in the crowd nodded in recognition.

  `I see several important members of our new government among us today,' he said. `Perhaps now is the time for us to assert ourselves. Perhaps we should contest the seizure of a Queensland ship by a foreign adventurer, and her subsequent sale, at a handsome profit, to an English society, notorious for its interference in the internal affairs of our self-governing colony.'

  Charles and Moser went into the dining room where they ate a light lunch. Immediately afterward, Charles left in Moser's carriage for Castlecraig, leaving Moser behind in the member's lounge, deeply engrossed in conversation with a group of politicians. *

  Charles arrived at Castlecraig to find no-one other than servants in the huge house. Jenkins greeted him at the door, and told him Miss Catherine was out, but that he would find Mrs Stonehouse in her rose garden.

  When Charles walked down to the garden, Clare Stonehouse greeted him enthusiastically. `Oh Charles. It is so good to see you,' she said, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. `It will be lovely to have a man around the house again.' She linked her arm in his. `Let's go back up to the house, you can tell me all about your visit to England and the Clyde over a nice cup of tea.'

  They were still sitting talking in the drawing room when Catherine's carriage returned from a fund raising function in aid of a local orphanage. When her daughter came into the room, Clare excused herself and went upstairs for her nap.

  Catherine opened her arms wide and swept across the room. 'Charles darling, I do hope you didn't mind me not being at the dock, but it's such a
dirty, dreary place, and I knew Silas would be there to meet you.'

  She held him close and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

  Charles wished her lips were Vivian's.

  She held him at arm's length and appraised him. `Your looking wonderful. Now tell me, how was London?'

  `Cool and rainy most of the time,' Charles replied stiffly. `The Fairweathers send you their best regards.'

  `How nice. Did I tell you I used to go to school with their niece?'

  `No, but Vivian did.'

  Catherine looked surprised. `Oh, then you've met Vivian. How is she?'

  `You can ask her yourself. She's in Brisbane. She was a passenger on the Southern Star.'

  `Oh how wonderful. She married an army officer—a Captain Stokes I believe. You did ask them to visit us Charles.'

  `Vivian travelled alone. Her husband died some time ago in the Sudan.'

  Catherine looked shocked. `Oh, I'm so sorry. But what is she doing here alone?' `She's an observer with the Exeter Hall Society, campaigning against the Kanaka labortrade.'

  Catherine laughed loudly. `That sounds like Vivian. Miss Goody Two-Shoes. Loses her husband, so takes on a useless noble cause. As a woman, what on earth does she think she can do anyway.'

  `She wants to stop people like Silas Moser from selling Melanesians like chattels,' Charles spoke clearly and calmly. `And she wants to stop people like you and your father from sexually abusing and kidnapping them.'

  Catherine's thin lips tightened. She hurried to the door and closed it, then spun around to face Charles.

  `How dare you speak to me like that in this house?' she hissed angrily, trying to keep her voice down, and her anger in check. `What lies have you been listening to?'

  `It's no use Catherine. I know all about the kidnapping of the Kanaka girl and your half brother, and so does Vivian. We spoke to a sea-captain who found them locked below decks aboard the Faithful and left to drown after the ship was abandoned. The island girl told him everything.'

  Suddenly Catherine's anger was gone. She came to Charles and put her arms around him and pressed her body close to his.

  `Oh Charles what could I do?I had to think of mother. I couldn't stand the thought of her image of father being shattered, and of the shame and disgrace she would have suffered if that child had arrived on our doorstep one day. Oh Charles, it made no difference to me. Please try and understand. What I did, I did for my mother.'

  Charles took Catherine's arms from around him and left the room. He went directly to the apartment in the tower, wanting only to be alone. When darkness came, he went to bed without going downstairs for dinner.

  He had just fallen asleep when Catherine came in. She stole across the room in the darkness and slipped naked into the big bed beside him. As he stirred, she quickly and skillfully used her lips, her hands, and her body to arouse him to a point beyond which he couldn't deny her.

  Charles knew it was her way of trying to earn from him some sort of clemency for what she had done, and he knew she would see his compliance as forgiveness. And as always, he hated the power her body had over him and loathed his own weakness. But he couldn't control the tide of passion which rose inside him. It quickly engulfed him, drowning his conscience and sweeping him helplessly before it. He just closed his eyes and pretended the quivering body which clung to his was Vivian's.

  *

  Despite a chilly August easterly, Ben was taking his lunch outside as usual. He had just started to eat when the Reverend Francis Bray of the local Graceville church called by, and Mrs Llewellyn led him through the house to the veranda.

  Ben rose and waved the elderly clergyman to the chair opposite him. `This is an unexpected pleasure Reverend. Won't you join me and sample some of Mrs LLewellyn's fine roast lamb.'

  Reverend Bray declined with a smile and a wave of a thin hand, but Mrs Llewellyn took no notice and quickly set another place in front of him.

  `Please excuse me for arriving unannounced Mr Luk,' Reverend Bray said, as Mrs Llewellyn hurried off toward the kitchen. `But this visit is not in the normal course of my rounds in the parish. This morning, I received an urgent message from the Bishop of Brisbane, requesting me to ask you to call at his residence at your earliest convenience.' Ben looked puzzled. `Regarding what Reverend? Did he give a reason?'

  Reverend Bray waited while Mrs Llewellyn laid a huge steaming plate in front of him before he replied.

  `The messenger just said the bishop has a house-guest who wishes to speak with you on a personal matter.I'm afraid I don't know the details, but apparently the bishop's guest, a young woman from England, has some information regarding Miss Kiri.'

  Ben left the Reverend Bray to his meal and ran to the stables. It was nearly ten miles to the bishop's residence in Ascot. Ben's chestnut mare glistened under a lather of frothing sweat when she galloped up the driveway to the house. Seconds later, Ben slipped from the saddle and knocked forcefully on the door.

  A young deacon led Ben through the gracious home to a private study where he asked him to wait. Almost immediately, the deacon returned with the bishop, and a refined, young lady, whom he introduced as Mrs Vivian Stokes.

  Bishop Gower, a portly, round faced man in his mid-fifties, took his place behind a large ornate desk. Ben and Vivian sat in polished mahogany chairs opposite him.

  `Thank you for coming Mr Luk,' the bishop began.

  `Reverend Bray said you had some news of Kiri,' Ben broke in.

  `That is correct Mr Luk. But I must ask you to listen to what I have to say without interrupting me... Now, Mrs Stokes here, is a representative of the Exeter Hall Society of Great Britain, an organization which has long supported various church groups in all the Australian colonies, and which is dedicated to ending the South Seas labor-trade. She does indeed have information about this girl Kiri, which she feels morally obliged to tell you, even though I have implored her not to do so. After all, the Melanesian girl is not your wife Mr Luk, and the church cannot condone the way you lived in sin with her.' Bishop Gower paused. He looked from Vivian to Ben. `But before Mrs Stokes tells you her story, which I warn you, you will not find pleasant, you must swear to God that you will not seek retribution. Any kind of violence would only do our cause irreparable harm.'

  Ben looked from the bishop to Vivian. `You both have my word on that,' he said softly.

  Vivian told Ben everything, just as Christian Blue had told her—of finding Kiri and Sky locked below decks in the Faithful, as she lay abandoned and sinking after the storm. Then the confrontation with the Superior at the island of Kiriwina, and the subsequent loss of the warship with all hands. And she told Ben how the story was born out by Isaiah Cockburn's entries in his log, and his diaries. She went on to tell him of her impulsive purchase of the Faithful, hoping to use the ship, and the diaries, in the fight against the oppression of Melanesian islanders.

  When Vivian had finished, Bishop Gower said:

  `I have since explained to Mrs Stokes, that buying the Faithful and the spending of such a large sum of money, which we can ill-afford, was a serious mistake. I pointed out that the goals of the abolitionists will never be achieved by that type of open confrontation.' The bishop sighed. `I'm afraid a great deal of damage has already been done. As you would know Mr Luk, the labor-traders are powerful people. They are men with vested interests, men who will fight any opposition, tooth and nail, and with every means at their disposal—fair or foul. And we have learned already, from our own sources, that there are moves afoot in shipping and political circles, to discredit Mrs Stokes and to send her packing back to England. We also know, the Queensland Government's gunboat, Gayundah, is to apprehend Captain Blue and the Faithful in Moreton Bay and hold them while an inquiry is held, looking into how the vessel came into his hands in the first place.' Bishop Gower sighed again and held his round face in both hands. `It's all most disturbing and embarrassing for Mrs Stokes, and also for the church Mr Luk. That is why I must insist you do not add more fuel to the fire by seeki
ng any form of retribution.'

  `Yes, I understand,' Ben said. `But how did they know the ship was coming to Brisbane?' Bishop Gower turned to Vivian.

  `There was another man present when I purchased the Faithful, Mr Luk,' Vivian said with her eyes lowered. `A Mr Charles Worthington-Jones of the Stonehouse Shipping Company.'

  Ben shook his head. `Oh, yes, the Englishman. I know him. He was one of the men who sold Kiri into Madam Jane's brothel.'

  Vivian gasped. She stood up quickly and went to the window of the study and stared out with her back to the desk.

  `Where is the Faithful now?' Ben asked

  `Probably no more than halfway down the coast from Thursday Island,' Vivian said, without turning around. `Captain Blue said the south-east tradewind blows the hardest at this time of year and would be against him all the way.'

  The bishop took his head out of his hands. `Why do you ask Mr Luk?'

  `Because, if we act quickly,' Ben replied, `perhaps I can repay, in some small way, the great debt of gratitude I owe to Captain Blue and Mrs Stokes.'

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  At daybreak the next morning, Ben left Jarrah with Jack Stark aboard his barge and headed downstream. They took with them a dozen of the brickyard's fittest and strongest young men. Three hours later, the barge cleared the mouth of the Brisbane River and entered the sheltered waters of Moreton Bay at full steam.

  When nightfall came, the shallow draft vessel was rolling heavily, but making steady progress northward in the open sea toward Fraser Island. During the night a second watch took over in the wheelhouse. An hour before dawn, Ben and Jack came back on deck. It was a clear, starry night, and for some time they sat watching the glow of Aboriginal fires, scattered all along the great sand island's seventy-five mile beach.

  By midday, the barge was pushing her way through a calm sea, under a clear winter sky. She was now just less than five miles south of Indian Head, a high, sparsely treed rocky headland, about fifteen miles south of Great Sandy Cape on the north end of the island.