Skull and Bones

“Not I!” said Hands merrily. “Shift the sodding cargo aft!”

Allardyce grinned.

“What cargo?” he said. “Only cargo we’ve got is dollars!”

“Clap a hitch!” cried Silver nastily. “Who knows what bugger’s listening!”

They looked round the harbour. There wasn’t a human being within earshot. They made faces behind Silver’s back and fell silent.

Ashore, Silver, Allardyce and Israel Hands went to the harbour master’s office, while the six hands – chosen for their ability to stay sober – were let off the leash, bar one unfortunate who was left to guard the boat.

Dr Cowdray set off into town by himself in search of medical stores, and replacements for some of his worn-out instruments. Having found what he wanted, he then spent a pleasant couple of hours in the cool, shady streets, shaking off hawkers and beggars, enjoying the sight of women and children after so long in the company of men, and looking into the shops, especially bookshops. Then he searched for a tavern – a respectable one – for a drink and a meal, for the rendezvous was hours away yet.

He knew he had found just the place when he clapped eyes on the Copper Kettle. Situated on the shady side of King William Square, it looked bright and clean, with a long awning and tables in the fresh air. The clientele was entirely respectable, with waiters in long white aprons attending, while the vulgar populace was kept back by a fence of neat white posts with chains slung between. Cowdray stepped forward with purpose, but:

“Oh!” he said, and stopped with his bundle of books and his brown paper parcel of medical gear. He dithered and stuck his load under one arm so he could wipe the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief. In amongst the respectable patrons of the Copper Kettle, seated at a table, his parrot on his shoulder, was Long John Silver. In his current foul mood, the captain made the worst imaginable company.

Cowdray stood in the hot, scented air of a tropical spiceisland. It would soon be noon, and the sun was fierce. The streets were emptying as people headed indoors…and Cowdray was thirsty…then…Ah! Debate was irrelevant. Silver had seen him.

“Captain!” said Cowdray, advancing across the square, through the gate in the fence, to take the seat beside Silver. The latter nodded miserably. Cowdray unloaded his goods, and took off his hat in the welcome shade.

“Pffffff!” he said, and fanned himself with his hat.

“Salve, Medicus!” said the parrot, greeting Cowdray in Latin as she always did. At least the bird was pleased to see him.

“Salve, avis sapiens!” said Cowdray. “Hallo, clever bird!”

“Ain’t she, though?” said Silver, stroking the green feathers. “And you love Long John, don’t you?”

“Love Long John!” she said, and bobbed and nodded and rubbed her head against his with every sign of affection. Silver smiled, a real smile, and he turned to Cowdray to make apology.

“Sorry, Doctor,” he said, “I ain’t no use at present, not to man nor beast.”

“Not you, Captain!” said Cowdray stoutly. Another sigh was Silver’s only response.

Then a waiter came, and they ordered food and drink, and sat silent for a bit, and the victuals were served, and Silver went heavy on the drink, and at last the two fell into conversation. Perhaps it was the rum. Perhaps it was because Cowdray wasn’t properly a gentleman o’ fortune, and he certainly wasn’t a seaman, and he was a surgeon – the one who’d saved Long John’s life by taking off his shattered leg – but Long John’s misery and trouble began to tumble out bit by bit.

“What am I to do, Doctor?”

“In what respect?”

“Taking prizes? Winning dollars? Choosing allies?” Silver shook his head. “All of it, Doctor. Living my bleedin’ life! What soddin’ life? What am I? Who am I?”

“Oh!” said Cowdray. He was a surgeon, but like any medical man he knew that men can be wounded in the mind as badly as in the body, and that such wounds could be severe. He glanced at Silver. To Cowdray, Silver was still young: thirty-two? Thirty-three? Cowdray could almost have been his father; moreover he liked Silver and wanted to help. He thought of something to say, to get Silver talking…to explore the wound.

“You let the prize go,” he said, “Venture’s Fortune. Why did you do that?”

“Had to,” said Silver morosely, “or we’d not be refitting in that dockyard yonder.”

“Is that arranged?”

Silver nodded. “It was just a matter of money,” he said. “And plenty of it.”

“Why didn’t you keep the prize?”

Silver shrugged. “We’d get away with that once or twice, but he’d find out in the end.”

“Sir Wyndham Godfrey?”

“Aye. He issues these Protections. I saw one in Cap’n Higgs’s desk.” Silver shook his head irritably. “You see,” he said, “if we…I…am to follow this life, we need a port.”

“Like this one?”

“This is the only bloody one, damn near! So we can’t upset him what owns it.”

“King George, you mean?”

Silver laughed and the parrot squawked loudly.

“And that’s another thing,” said Silver. “I’ve got to choose between them two under hatches aboard ship: Lord fancy-drawers-McBollock, and Mr Bow Street Norton, both of ‘em reckoning they’ve a king behind ‘em. So which do we favour?”

“You took Norton as a navigator…”

“Aye, but he might be useful as a go-between with the law.”

“I see,” said Cowdray. “And in the meantime you stole Bonnie Prince Charlie’s dollars…”

“And how long would I’ve been cap’n if I hadn’t?”

“Hmm,” said Cowdray. “Of course, Allardyce is for McLonarch.”

“Him and others! They worship the paper he wipes his arse on.”

“What do you think?” said Cowdray.

Silver sighed heavily. “See here, Doctor, there could be pardons in this for all hands. McLonarch has offered one, but only if Prince Charlie comes home…while maybe we could get one out of King George for handing McLonarch over – if Allardyce would let us.” Silver shook his head, and took another hefty pull from his tankard. “And there’s civil war brewing if McLonarch gets home, and no way of knowing which side might win…or even if we should try to stop it, for the bloodshed it would mean for all England.”

“I see,” said Cowdray. “But why need there be a decision now? We could take both men to England, ask questions when we get there, and decide then what to do with them.” He bowed his head in thought. “The great prize would be a pardon. That would be precious beyond riches.” He looked up, the evidence weighed, a decision reached: “We should go to England! Then, at worst, if the matter proves too complex, we could set Norton and McLonarch ashore in two different places – thus keeping Allardyce happy and ourselves still holding the dollars.”

“Bugger me blind!” said Silver, tipping back his hat and gazing at Cowdray in admiration. “Where have you been all these months, Doctor? You never speak at our councils and yet here you are, the sharpest man aboard!”

“I never thought the hands would listen to a sawbones,” said Cowdray.

“Well, I’m damned,” said Silver. “You almost persuaded me.”

“Oh? Will you not go to England?”

“I don’t know. The risk is so great. We might be found out. We might be taken…” He looked around King William Square. “This place might be up for bribes, but the Port of London won’t be. And the seas’d be thick with navy.”