THE COMMODORE

 

The Fourth in the Captain Cartwright series

BY  Krystyna

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The horseman sat as though motionless yet at perfect ease in the saddle as he gazed down from the high rim rock that provided a perfect 360 degree panoramic view that stretched for miles.   In the pure air of the mountains he could look down and around him for miles upon miles with nothing to obscure the views except that which was man made and alien.

 

The sun shone upon the chestnut coat of the horse so that the animal gleamed as a result of his master’s careful grooming, and only the soft mountain breezes catching at the fringes of his mane and tail created any movement to this still life tableau of man and beast.

 

The man wore black.  He sat with some ease in the saddle, with one leg crooked about the pommel and his hands holding the reins loosely as though he had forgotten they were actually there.  His dark eyes were narrowed, the hooded lids heavy over the intelligent orbs that moved slowly from left to right and then back from right to left as though he were determined to miss out on nothing.

 

How had it all happened?  In the space of a few years it seemed as though a small isolated settlement had spawned into a monstrous metropolis.   He saw where the open cast mining had gouged out splendid forests that had provided shelter for all manner of animals; he noticed rivers that had once gleamed like silver ribbons in the sunlight, now rank and littered with the debris of the mines and human waste.  

 

There were the houses and streets, the hotels and saloons, the roads that trailed and thrust their ways through the devastated countryside.  Yonder the shanty homes where families eked out their lives and struggled through the days in an attempt to one day cross that invisible line that would take them to ‘the other side’.  There were the homes of those who had struck it rich, gaudy and bright, ostentatious monuments to their owners good fortune.  There were the houses of those who had straddled the divide between those who have and those who have not.

 

Schools and hotels, hurdy gurdy houses, brothels, all rubbed shoulders together. One and all jostled beside the three churches that provided for the spiritual needs of the spiritual few, and the affluent many who attended merely to be seen and noticed by any who cared.  Smoke rose from hundreds of chimneys and added to the pollution that came from the mines that churned out a perpetual stench and pervading noise.

 

“What’s on your mind?”

 

The question asked in the familiar deep voice of his father caused the younger man to turn in the saddle and gaze upon the other man as he approached him, the horse stepping daintily towards its stable mate and its rider.   Ben Cartwright’s dark eye brows seemed to echo the question he had asked, demanding an answer.  The man in black sighed and then returned to look down upon Virginia City.

 

“I never thought it would grow so big, so -” he searched for the right word, all the books he had read didn’t seem to have provided him with one and so he shook his head, “This isn’t Eden, Pa.”

 

“No,it isn’t.” his father sighed now, and drew closer to his son, so close that their knees touched, “Do you remember -?” he paused, and frowned, there were so many memories of times before when first they had mounted to the rim rock and gazed down upon the valleys, and smiled at seeing the tiny little settlement nestled down below.

 

“I remember -” Adam Cartwright said softly, his voice barely a whisper, “times we came here and thought, wrongly, that it could never change.” he paused, the dark eyebrows rose to form peaks of bemusement, as though now he thought himself foolish to have ever imagined any such thing, “I guess we didn’t take into account that there always has to  be a serpent in Eden.”

 

“Greed, pride, insidious evil that has to rise up and destroy whatever is beautiful in this world.” Ben shook his head, “ I never thought to look down on a scene such as this either, but we can’t make time stand still, son, we can’t change human nature.”

 

Adam said nothing to that but pursed his lips slightly and quirked an eyebrow   With a sudden jerk of the wrist he pulled at the reins and turned Sports head so that the big horse was soon moving away accompanied by the other rider who glanced over his shoulder regretfully before he settled back into the saddle.

 

“How long before they start to seriously encroach upon the Ponderosa?” Adam asked his father, who raised his shoulders in a slight shrug,

 

“They’ve already tried, but we’ve managed to fend them off so far.”

 

Adam’s nostrils thinned, and he tried to let the comment pass as the most natural thing to say, but he couldn’t shrug off the fact that the ’we’ wasn’t inclusive of himself, it related only to Ben and Joe and Hoss.  That’s what happens, he told himself wryly, when you can’t be in two places at the same time, no matter how much one would wish to be so.

 

Ben now took the lead, threading the way back down and into the Ponderosa’s wide valley which was shrouded on either side by the tall pine trees from which the Cartwright’s home had taken it’s name.  Now as they walked their horses gently through the natural paths of the woodland, the hoof beats hollow upon the damp duff of many years of fallen pine needles, both men felt a more optimistic mood lift the early depression from their shoulders.   The sun shone in dappled patches upon them both as their horses threaded their way homewards.

 

………………..

 

“Name?”

 

The young woman glanced nervously up into the thin face of the official who stood with hand open for her papers.  She had endured a long sea journey and only wanted to gain re-entry into the land of her birth without too much fuss.  She was tired, nervous and pregnant, not a combination for stability in a woman of her temperament.   She fumbled for the essential papers in her bag and after looking briefly at them passed them to the customs officer.

 

“American citizen …?” he paused and looked at her again, his eyes narrowed and then his eyes flicked over her shoulder, he twitched an eyebrow, and then he lowered his eyes to re-examine the papers “Maria O’Brien?” he raised his eyes to look at her again.

 

 “Yes,” she nodded, a slight frown creased her brow when she noticed him look up over her shoulder again and give an almost imperceptible nod of the head.  She held her breath, resolved not to look back herself, felt the flutter of fear at her throat.

 

Surely he was taking far too long to look at her papers.  Other passengers had come and gone and still she was waiting for him to rubber stamp hers.  A fat man came, jostled her arm so that some papers slipped from her hand onto the floor,

 

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Missy” he leaned down to pick them up and with some huffing and puffing as he straightened himself up, handed them back to her, “Oh Mrs O’Brien, how nice to see you here again.  I missed you what with all the crush there is in getting ready to disembark.  Are you managing alright?  Do you need any help?”

 

“That’s very kind of you,” Maria gave him a pleasant smile, “I’m just about ready to go -” she held out her hand for her papers which the man on the other side of the counter still held, but now pushed into her grasp, her fingers clasped them and she turned away, only to be immediately confronted by a tall man who removed his  hat and smiled at her pleasantly,

 

“Mrs O’Brien?”

 

“Yes?” there was that nervous little fluttering in her throat again.  She swallowed it down, and blinked.

 

“I’ve a carriage waiting for you, Ma’am.”  he extended a hand to take her luggage, beckoned at the same time to someone out of her view to attend to the other bags and then placed his hand beneath her elbow in order to encourage her to move on.

 

“I didn’t order a carriage -” she replied weakly, attempting to free her elbow from his grip.

 

“Your friends did though, Ma’am.” he replied and his fingers tightened on her arm.

 

The fat man at the counter turned with a frown on his florid face, and his little eyes showed some concern as he turned to her,

 

“Everything alright, Mrs O’Brien.” 

 

Maria opened her mouth, forced a smile and nodded.  She slowly extended a hand and shook his,

 

“Thank you for your kindness during the trip, Mr Joslin. I did appreciate it.” she said softly.

 

He smiled, concern remained in his eyes as he watched her leaving the building with the tall man who escorted her out as though he were some kind of guard. Another thick set man followed behind them, bearing her luggage.

 

……………

 

The loud guffaw of laughter floated above the noise of people in the big room at the Ponderosa.  Tinkling glasses, loud voices, laughter, music playing quietly in the background, all combined to make up the sounds of people enjoying themselves at one of the Cartwright events.  A special event this one, an event that had brought old friends together to commemorate it, and new friends together to enjoy it.

 

Hoss Cartwright refilled his brother Joe’s glass with punch, and then laughed again as he turned with his own glass filled.  Together they stood side by side to look at the gathered assembly, Joe glanced up at his ‘big’ brother and grinned,

 

“Looks like folk are enjoying themselves, huh?”

 

“Should do, Pa’s put on quite a spread for the day.” Hoss raised the glass to his lips and slurped some punch, he smacked his lips and nodded, “Yessirree, this is quite something.” he slurped some more.

 

The bride stepped forward now, her face radiant and her eyes beaming.   By her side was her husband, vows just a matter of hours old, no one was too sure who was blushing most.  He took her into his arms and as the music struck up so they stepped gracefully into a waltz.

 

“Sure look happy, don’t they?”  Joe sighed, his face softening as he watched the happy couple.

 

“Yeah, they sure do.”  Hoss nodded, and his blue eyes followed the young couple as they turned gracefully back on themselves.

 

Other couples were taking to the floor now.   Hop Sing and No. 1 Cousin busied themselves by replenishing stocks of food on the tables.  Ben appeared with some bottles and did mysterious things to the punch bowl so that the liquid level was raised, he winked at his sons as he passed them by.

 

“What do you think Adam’s thinking?” Joe murmured sotto voce to his brother who lowered his head before frowning to glance up at Adam who was standing near the hearth, glass in hand and a meditative look on his face.

 

“Probably thinking it’s about time you or me was hog tied to a female gal,” Hoss grinned, and watched as his father - minus the bottles he had been carrying earlier - went to stand beside their brother, “Pa don’t seem to want him outa his sight, does he?”

 

“No.”  Joe’s brow furrowed and the hazel eyes looked anxious.

 

“P’raps things would  have been better if’n he’d managed to git hisself hitched to Miss Barbara.”

 

“Well, that didn’t happen, so no point in thinking about it.” Joe turned to watch as Candy Canady slipped out of the house holding tightly to  the hand of a pretty young woman, with a smile Joe nudged Hoss’ elbow and the two brothers exchanged a wink and a grin.

 

………………….

 

Who would have thought it possible?  That was the refrain that went round and round in Candy’s head as he took the young woman into his arms and kissed her.   Who would have thought that the one thing he had thought quite impossible could have come about in such a wonderful way.

 

Was it only a month ago?  He could remember it so well, the morning he was shoeing a horse with Joe yammering on about something or other and both of them not even bothering to look  up when a buggy went by and stopped in the yard.  They hadn’t even stopped when voices were heard, Joe had only paused for breath when he discerned a woman’s voice and he had nudged Candy who had shaken his head and smiled but continued at his task.

 

And then - there she was, standing in the doorway with the light shimmering behind her and her neat form a dark silhouette  just waiting for him to look up.  It was Adam who had uttered a very loud ‘Ahem’ to get his attention …

 

“Ann …” he whispered her name now, kissed her lips again, very gently brushed his fingers through her hair, “Ann, oh my dearest dearest darling.”

 

Here she was in his arms, real and solid and beautiful.  Mrs Ann Canady.  His Ann.  The Ann he had won and lost, and now re-found.

 

Around them stars shone in a dark sky and music, laughter and singing came from the big house.  Together they were locked in to their own private long denied world.

 

It had taken her a year to trace him, a long arduous year and one which had taken her from one State to another in search of the husband she had abandoned but had never stopped loving.  She had journeyed from ranch to town, from town to settlement and always heard the same thing ‘He was here, but left a while along …’  and then one day in Arizona someone had said ‘He was here but left to go back to work on the Ponderosa, that’s in Nevada territory, why not go look for him there?’

 

That had brought her to journey’s end.  That magical moment when she had stood in the doorway and watched him hammering at the shoe on a horse, and he had raised his head, looked at her and cried her name as though his heart was in his mouth and had exploded with that one word.

 

“Ann!”

 

Now this was their wedding day and Ben Cartwright had provided them with a day to remember because to him, and to his family, Candy Canady had been more than just a ranch hand, a friend, he had been like family.   This day had been a wonderful evidence of the affection they held for him. 

 

Adam’s gift was that of a house for them, one he had laboured on himself some years earlier, one that they knew had been built on love.  It was now to be their home on a small parcel of land gifted to them by the generous owner of the Ponderosa.   Neither of them could have believed it possible that they could have been so showered with so much love.

 

……………………….

 

Agnes Joslin smoothed down the folds of her husbands suits and shirts and carefully placed them in the wardrobe and chest of drawers.   She had kept up a constant barrage of questions about this and that, where had he been, what had he done, whom had he seen?

 

Mr Joslin was content to say as little as possible.  He sat watching her bustling about the room putting away his belongings.  It made  him feel content, satisfied somehow, that he had at last reached home safely.  His smile faded when the chatter stopped and she stood up with a frown puckering her brow and an envelope between  her fingers,

 

“What’s this?” she demanded with folded lips and hooded eyes, she sniffed it suspiciously, “It’s got perfume on it.”

 

“Give it to me -” he held out a plump hand and plucked it from her, sniffed it and frowned.

 

The perfume was easily recognisable, the pretty lady in the cabin next to his own, yes, that was right.  Mrs O’Brien.   He gulped, surely this could not be some kind of billet doux?  He accepted the fact that he was handsome (well, his opinion endorsed by his wife but not one shared by anyone else), but surely she had not wished to pursue him?  No, surely not.   He opened the envelope, which was  unsealed and extracted another, stared at the address and glanced at his wife.

 

“She must have slipped it into my pocket when I wasn’t noticing … I mean .. I didn’t notice her doing it.”  he turned the envelope over and looked at the wax seal, “I think this letter is rather important.”

 

“Then open it …”

 

“I can’t do that,” he said solemnly, and he looked again at the name and address on the envelope, “It isn’t addressed to me.”

 

“Who’s it for then?  Anyone we know?” she asked, and sidled up to him, peered over his shoulder and scowled as she read the words that had been written in dark black ink but thin writing:

 

Captain Adam Cartwright - Ponderosa

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2.

 

A new morning dawned with a lowering mist shrouding the tops of the trees.   Adam shrugged into the yellow coat and inhaled the air deep into his lungs.  He smiled at his brothers who were walking by his side, Joe still yawning as a result of sleeping in too long and Hoss still pulling on his vest having taken too much time over his breakfast.  Ben was stepping down from the porch and discussing the plans for the day which he felt needed to be repeated due to the obvious lack of attention the discussion had received at the breakfast table when the sound of a horse galloping into the yard caused each man to  stop in anticipation of the riders arrival, aware of the fact that such haste seldom brought with it good news.

 

The young man astride the horse pulled it up hard amid a flurry of dust, leaned down from the saddle to address Ben in a voice that rasped from lack of breath. The horse, sweat foaming his body, trembled in every limb from its exertions and Joe reached out a hand to calm and reassure it.

 

“Mr Cartwright - we got trouble - Hank sent me to tell you that McGarthy’s sent a crew of men onto Ponderosa land.   They’re sawing down trees, got dynamite …” he stopped in mid sentence as the four men moved instantly towards the stables, each one looking grim faced and each one preferring action rather than standing there to listen to anything else.  What little had been said was more than sufficient.

 

It was Hoss who paused and  stepped back to grab at the horse’s reins,

 

“You’d best git down from that horse, Chuck, take him to the corral and git yerself a fresh one after you’ve seen to him.”

 

“But -”

 

“Ya take care of that horse, Mister, and then ride out and join us.   We know whar McGarthy will have sent his men and we don’t need you riding along with us as a guide.”

 

………………..

 

Agnes Joslin weighed the letter in her hand.  It had stood on the mantle over the fire in the dining room since the previous evening as though accusing her of some crime.   Now she couldn’t resist the temptation any longer,

 

“I just wonder what this is all about.” she scowled, and sniffed the perfume, shook her head, “I think there’s mischief here, Douglas.”

 

“Well if there is, it ain’t got nothing to do with us. Put it back, Agnes, and get on with your breakfast.”  and in case she had forgotten how to go about getting on with breakfast he showed her by stuffing a good quantity of food into his cavernous mouth.

 

“No woman - no respectable woman - travels alone carrying a letter to a man other than her husband unless there’s mischief afoot.” 

 

“You’ve been reading those romances again, my dear, you should leave the reading alone, it addles your brains.” he muttered between chomping and gulping down quantities of black coffee.

 

“Nonsense.”  she frowned, “And why give it to you?”

 

He shrugged broad shoulders extravagantly.  He had no idea why, nor did he have any idea how little Mrs O’Brien had managed to slip a letter into his pocket, he wiped a greasy mouth on the back of his hand as he pushed the plate away,

 

“Best leave it alone, Agnes.  If Mrs O’Brien wants to claim the letter back then all she has to do is call for it.”

 

“How will she know where to collect it -” Agnes replied rather sharply, “unless you gave her our address.”

 

“Oh no, I -” he paused, and frowned, he shook his head, “No, I don’t think I gave her our address, dear.” his voice faltered uncertainly, and he pushed himself away from the table, hauled himself out of the chair and approached her, “Do you think we should open it?”

 

Her eyes opened wide, just what she was thinking herself but how much better that the suggestion had come from him.  With a triumphant flourish she passed the envelope over to him and had opened her mouth to speak when the door opened and a neatly clad maid stepped into the room,

 

“There’s a gentleman called to see you, sir.”

 

“A gentleman?  Didn’t he give his name?”  Agnes demanded sharply, answering as was customary any questions addressed to ‘sir’ by any of the staff.

 

“No, Ma’am,” the maid replied with her eyes fixed on Joslin’s face.

 

“I’m not expecting any callers.  It’s too early, I’ve not finished eating yet.” Joslin protested and returned to his seat at the table.  He tossed the envelope upon the table, and without pausing to think about what he was doing dropped his napkin beside his plate as he reached over for more food.   As he did so all thought of the letter went from his head, the napkin settled over the envelope and it now became literally a matter of out of sight, out of mind.

 

“Tell him to go away and call back later.”  Agnes dismissed the girl with a wave of the hand.

 

The door closed and she muttered something beneath her breath, glanced at her husband with a slight frown and resumed her seat.  She glanced once at the mantle to remind herself of what had been irritating her so much, noticed the empty space and contented herself with the knowledge that her husband was in full control of the matter now.  What exactly that meant in the Joslin household was a matter for anyone’s guess.

……………………….

 

Liam McGarthy was a swarthy red haired slightly balding man in his mid fifties.  He had made his fortune years earlier during the gold strike at Sutters Mill, California, *and was now eager to add to it by extending his mining operations in Nevada.  Another Comstock *was due to happen, and he wanted to be first in the rush with the biggest strike of all.  For him open cast mining was the quick and easy way to fulfil that ambition, and why the Cartwrights refused to do it when everyone knew they were sitting on a mountain of gold and silver he just couldn’t fathom.  They obviously needed a bit of a shove and push, and he was just the man to do it.

 

He knew they would come.  He took out his watch to glance at the time and smiled to himself as he sat in comfort in his luxurious carriage.  Just as he thought within an hour of setting foot on the Ponderosa along came the four Cartwrights.   Well, it made a change from the usual three, he mused.

 

He could see from the set of Ben Cartwright’s mouth that the man was seething.  There may not have been steam coming literally out of his ears but McGarthy could see the fury blazing in the dark eyes.   He waited until Ben was abreast of him before greeting him with a cynical ’Good morning.’

 

“You’re on my land.” Ben dashed the greeting aside with the words that growled from his lips, “Take your men, McGarthy, and get off the Ponderosa.”

 

“Ben, you’re much too hasty -” Liam replied as he sprawled back a little and set his head to one side to observe Ben’s reaction, “I’ve brought some papers along with me -”

 

“Take your papers back with you and -”

 

“I’ve brought some papers along with me for you to look over.  Ben, this could be a very profitable business for you and your boys.  Why be so quick to dismiss it?  Now I know for a fact that you -” he nodded over at Adam who immediately narrowed his eyes and inclined his head forward to hear more clearly what was about to be said, “have mining interests around Virginia City.”

 

“Not open cast mining” Adam replied quietly.

 

“Nevertheless you do have mining interests, and personally, I don’t understand why you don’t advocate the open cast system.  You get results far more quickly.”

 

“I’m not interested in fast results.” Adam raised his eyebrows and then glanced quickly over at the workmen who had paused in their labours to watch, “You had better do as my father suggested, McGarthy, and take your men and clear out.”

 

“I’ll make a deal with you, Ben, with the four of you, in fact -”  McGarthy pulled a wry face, although the eyes were wary, “I know that this was a rather hasty act on my part, for which I apologise,” the smile was false, Ben knew that and waited for what else was to come, “but you can’t hold out for long, Ben.   You need these minerals here, just like any other businessman in this area.  You ain’t going to make much profit on your beef this year, the cattle trade has been hard hit, and a lot of the mining corporations have taken their timber contracts to other suppliers … you’re going to need to use what you’ve got under the ground, Ben, and I’m the man who can get it for you.   I’ve got a contract here just ready for you to sign …”

 

“McGarthy, I have no intention of signing any contract with you, nor with any other man who feels they have the right to come onto my land and use open cast mining.  Now, do I make myself clear?”

 

McGarthy shrugged, folded the papers and slipped them back into his pocket,

 

“You’re making a mistake, Ben.  You need that gold -”

 

“I don’t need you to tell me what I need,” Ben jerked back the reins and turned Buck away from the carriage, “Get off my land …”

 

McGarthy smiled, shook his head and gestured towards the men waiting for his orders,

 

“There’s just four of you, I’ve got you outnumbered, Ben.”

 

Immediately four guns left their holsters and four guns were pointed at him.  Ben’s dark eyes grew darker and his lips became thinner

 

“If there’s any shooting, McGarthy, you’ll be the first to go down.”

 

“You wouldn’t dare?” Liam hissed, the bluster fading away now at the cold determined look on the ranchers face, and his eyes turned towards the three other men.

 

“You wouldn’t like to try testing us out, would you, Mr McGarthy?” Hoss ventured to say, with just a slight crook of an eye brow.

 

McGarthy scowled before, with a dismissive gesture, he turned to his driver and indicated that it was time to leave.   The carriage turned away and they heard him address a thick set man who was obviously acting as foreman of the crew.  As the four horsemen sat in the saddles watching, the mining crew reluctantly began to dismantle their equipment and return it to the waiting wagons.

 

Chapter 3

 

“Mr Joslin?”

 

The tall thin man removed his hat and observed carefully the short fat man standing before him. He smiled confidently, and Joslin, noting the smile, immediately lost all confidence in how he was going to deal with whatever was at issue.

 

“Mr Joslin, I believe that you were a passenger on board the Ventura that left Paris recently?”

 

“That’s right, what of it?” not the best reply, Joslin realised he had already lost ground and fidgeted uneasily in his chair.

 

“I believe that a friend of mine lost some papers during the voyage which you may have picked up.”

 

“Your friends wrong, I didn’t pick up any papers at all.”

 

“Oh, perhaps she handed them over to you then?”

 

“No, she didn’t.  Who is this person anyway?”

 

“Mrs O’Brien.  I believe you had the cabin next door to hers and were on good terms with her during the voyage.”

 

“Hardly saw her to be honest, sick most of the time.   Mal de mer and - er - being in a certain condition aren’t conducive to good sea travel.”  he narrowed his eyes and looked more closely at the other man,  “Haven’t I seen you someplace before?”

 

“I’m a friend of Mrs O’Briens, that’s why I’m here to collect back the papers she left with you.”

 

“I wish you wouldn’t keep on about her leaving papers with me, she never did no such thing except -” he paused and wished he could have taken the words back, the almost wolfish eagerness on the other man’s face disquietened him and he fidgeted a little more, “just a letter that I found in my jacket pocket.”

 

“Ah a letter -” the tall man smiled although the eyes looked colder than ever, he put out a hand, gloved in yellow leather, “If I may, sir, I would appreciate it if you handed it to me.”

 

“I can’t do that -” Joslin frowned, he stood  up with an air of confidence and raised his chin, “Sorry, but I can’t give it to you.   Fact is, we’ve misplaced it.” he twisted his lips into a semblance of a smirk, “My wife and I had it this morning but since then - it’s gone.”

 

There was a pause - long, uncomfortable and very tense.  The thin man sighed and nodded,

 

“That’s a pity.  No idea where it has gone?”

 

“None whatsoever.  I did ask if any of the staff had seen it but they hadn’t, it wasn’t addressed to us, you see?  Not our property.”

 

“Did you see who it was addressed to?  I was given to understand -” again a pause, he checked back his words as there was no point in informing the foolish fat man of too much.

 

“Captain Adam Cartwright.  There was a red seal on it too.”

 

“Oh, interesting.”  the crease in the man’s brow was significant, and revealed just how interesting it was, he glanced sharply at Joslin, “What kind of seal?”

 

“I don’t know, a red wax seal -”he shrugged, “How’m I to know what kind of seal it was, I didn’t look.”

 

Thin lips on a thin face parted in a grimace of a smile, he nodded, muttered his thanks and made his departure.

 

Outside once more and standing on the sidewalk of a busy San Francisco street he pursed his lips and scowled.  Well, at least they knew a little more than they had, or rather, had confirmed what little they had known.  Adam Cartwright - again!   Curse the man, but it had been expected really.  With the O’Brien’s involved it had been a certainty that Adam Cartwright would have been drawn into the mix somehow.  He began to walk slowly away from the Joslin’s home, his brow furrowed in deep thought.   Why couldn’t Adam Cartwright stay put with his cows at home and leave other matters alone?

 

…………………..

 

Agnes Joslin surveyed the man standing before her with some concern.  There was nothing offensive about her visitor, he was by no means unattractive and deported himself with a grave air that she quite admired.  She glanced down at the card he had left at the house earlier, and listened as he concluded an  apology for having called at such an inconvenient time previously. The matter, he continued to say, was of some urgency.

 

“You see, Mrs Joslin,” he smiled politely, “I had expected to meet a friend of mine from a ship that arrived from France, the same ship that your husband was travelling on -” he paused and looked at her thoughtfully, it crossed his mind that she would be a good person to have on side during a poker game as her face certainly gave nothing away, “A young woman, in fact.”

 

She tapped the card thoughtfully against her free hand, and looked at him with a slight frown now,

 

“I take it you are referring to Mrs O’Brien?”

 

“Indeed yes, I am.  Do you know anything at all about her whereabouts?”

 

“Not at all, my husband only struck up her acquaintance while on board ship.  He said that she was met by some friends -”

 

“Yes?” the question was intended to prompt her memory for more but she had stalled.  He sighed, “Did she - I mean - could she possibly have given Mr Joslin anything to look after, until she could collect it, perhaps?”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Well, a letter?” 

 

She blinked and her mouth shut tight, there now, hadn’t she said the letter was trouble?  She shook her head,

 

“There’s no letter.”

 

“No letter?” he sounded dismayed, sighed and shook his head, “In that case - well - in that case I can only apologise for my intrusion.”

 

“Is the letter important?”

 

“Yes, very important.”  he sighed again, mustered up a weak smile and picked up his hat slowly, “Should Mr Joslin remember anything at all, would you ask him to contact me at that address.” he nodded towards the card she still held in  her hand.

 

“If it’s of any help at all,” she paused now, “I mean, is there any money involved in this?”

 

“If you mean is there a fee for any information you can give -?” he nodded, “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.”

 

“It’s just that my husband had a visit from a gentleman at his office this morning.  He asked after the letter as well.”

 

Jeffrey Jamieson’s face fell.  The letter missing.  Mrs O’Brien missing.  Others already sniffing around - it boded no good at all.  He could feel his heart sinking, Mr Smith was not going to be at all pleased.   He listened to what she had to say patiently, while his mind travelled along another road altogether.  It was only when she mentioned Adam Cartwright by name that a light shone in his eyes and he actually mustered up a smile.

 

Chapter 4

 

McGarthy bit off the end of his cigar and spat it onto the floor, then he rammed the cigar into his mouth and struck a match.   From the window he could see the coming and going of a wide range of towns people but the ones he was most interested in were those making their way to his offices.   They came either by foot or carriage, depending on the distance between their buildings.

 

He gave merely the slightest of smiles as he saw Murdoch clamber down from his barouche,  the fancy open top carriage that the Director of the Gould & Curry Mine liked to flaunt as he rode through town to declare his supremacy over most other mortals, the handsomely matched pair of horses arched their necks as the vehicle rolled away from McGarthy’s building, taking Mrs Murdoch to visit elsewhere while her husband conducted business.

 

By the time Murdoch had reached the room set aside for  the conducting of this particular business meeting five other men, all Directors or Presidents of their own corporate businesses had began to mount the stairs towards McGarthy’s office.  They were conducted to where the meeting was to take place to find Murdoch and McGarthy already seated at the large highly polished oval table.

 

“How’d you get on?”  Jackson growled as he shook McGarthy’s hand, “Were you thrown off their land?”

 

“As predicted -” McGarthy smiled and indicated a seat for Jackson, head of the Diamond Jack Mining Company.

 

The meeting began, McGarthy taking the head of the table.  He opened a folder and then glanced around the table where each man began to open folders that had been placed at their position around the table.

 

“I want you to get a good idea as to what open cast mining is really all about … good engineering, quick profits.” he smiled but his eyes were cold as he glanced from one to the other of them, “Now, gentlemen, I know  you’ll all agree with me that there’s a lot of gold and silver waiting to be taken out of that mountain Ben Cartwright’s sitting on, my engineers tell me there’s every probability of another Comstock coming out of it but old Cartwright is too stubborn to consider mining it.”

 

“He might,” Rawlins brushed cigar ash away from his papers, “but not open cast mining. He and his family are dedicated to keeping the Ponderosa as they found it.  Open cast mining -”

 

“- is the best option for all.” Murdoch interrupted, he had no time for Rawlins whom he considered one of Ben’s allies.

 

“I disagree,” Rawlins scowled, he was the President of a large mining corporation with branches operating in various states, “I don’t think you’ll ever get Ben Cartwright to agree with you either.”

 

“Gentlemen -” McGarthy rose to his feet and raised his hands in a placating manner, he smiled, “there are always options available to a discerning businessman.  Look at the information I’ve given you about opencast mining …” he picked up a sheet of paper, “this is an area on the Ponderosa overlooking Lake Tahoe.   We cut out the ground in vertical levels until we get a hole.  They’re called benches, and will run about four to sixty metre intervals. *  Some of the areas on the Ponderosa I’ve ear marked won’t need those shelves as they’ll be too shallow.

 

It’s rocky ground thereabouts so the walls of the pits will be at an angle to lessen the danger of rock falls.  We’ll have to accommodate for faults in the rocks, perhaps set in some rock bolts.   I’ve arranged for some de-watering bores to be used to relieve water pressure.”*

 

“That could cause the walls to collapse in on themselves,”  Henderson of the Forked Pine Mine muttered.

 

“I’ve skilled men ready to be employed who can handle all that,” McGarthy replied giving Henderson a cold glare, “There will be ramps built for the wagons to carry off the ore and waste rock.”

 

“No,” Rawlins shook his head and tapped the papers angrily, “No, you can’t do this.  The waste rock will mount up and cause slurry to drain off into the Lake.”

 

 “Are you using cyanide to treat the gold? * If you are -”  Richardson from the Pyramid Lake Mines shook his head, “I can’t agree with this, McGarthy. If you step onto Cartwrights land they will fight you tooth and nail to protect it from what you plan to do.  I can’t agree with it.”

 

“You’re a fool then, and you’ll lose out when we start hauling in the gold.” Murdoch smiled complacently and leaned back comfortably in his leather chair.

 

“The cyanide leach process isn’t the only one way to treat the gold ore, we can use other means” McGarthy said quietly.

 

The men around the table moved restlessly in their chairs.  Some of them had already been utilising the open cast system.  The initial outlay was expensive but in the long run they knew it would bring about vast quantities of minerals to the surface much more quickly than any other system.  It was Rawlins who was first to stand up and face McGarthy,

 

“I can’t sit in on this any further, McGarthy.  You do as you think fit, but I don’t subscribe to it.  I came here years ago when Ben Cartwright was a struggling rancher, and we had to fight off everything from wild animals to Paiute to thieving miners to survive.  I can’t accept that what you plan to do is right.”  he turned to go, then paused, “Do you intend to buy this land from Ben?”

 

“Mr Rawlins -” McGarthy drew in his breath and stared the other man down, “if you intend to have no part in these proceedings I suggest you leave now.” he glanced up and down the table, “Any one else with ties to Ben Cartwright can get  up and go too.”

 

Henderson bit his bottom lip and glanced anxiously around the table but hesitated when no one else seemed about to leave.  Rawlins glared at him, then shook his head in disappointment before stomping from the room and slamming the door behind him.  A picture rocked on the wall from the vibration.  

 

“Well?  Henderson?  Are you in on the deal?”  Murdoch looked at the other man coldly, and for a moment it seemed as though Henderson would wilt beneath the other mans scrutiny, but instead he rose slowly to his feet,

 

“I owe Ben too much to fall in with your plans, gentlemen.  I wish I knew of a way to stop you for going ahead with them, but you seem pretty determined to continue.   Well, so be it, but I firmly believe that you will lose far more than you’ll ever gain from this venture.”

 

He paused, looked thoughtfully at Jackson with whom he had conducted a significant amount of business in the past, but Jackson looked down and toyed with the corner edge of the papers in front of him rather than face his associate.

 

McGarthy smiled as the door closed,

 

“Very well, gentlemen,” he said quietly, “Let’s really get down to business …”

 

……………………….

 

Frank Rawlins paused as he heard his name being called out above the noise of the traffic.  He paused, one foot already on the step of the hansom, and turned to face Henderson.

 

“I couldn’t go through with it, Frank.” Henderson said, “It would be like stabbing Ben in the back and we owe him too much.”

 

“Yes, Isaac, we do.  I’m glad you didn’t go through with it.” he extended his hand and shook Hendersons firmly, “What are you going to do now?”

 

“Go back to Philadelphia, get out of here as soon as I can.  I don’t want to have any dealings with this whatsoever.”

 

“Nor I.”  Rawlins nodded, “God speed.”

 

“You too.”

 

They went their separate ways.  Rawlins to his home, where he went immediately to his study and wrote a letter which he sealed in an envelope for Ben Cartwright. 

……………..

 

Maria O’Brien rose to her feet as the door opened, and watched with an agitation bordering upon hysteria as the door was closed and locked behind the man who now approached her.

 

“I want to leave here -” she cried, “Please let me go.”

 

“My dear Mrs O’Brien, anyone would think you were locked up in a prison the way you speak.   Now then, calm yourself down and relax.”

 

“I said, I want to go.  Open that door and let me go.”

 

He frowned and then heaved a sigh as though it distressed him to see her in such a state.  He poured out two glasses of wine, one of which he gave her, the other he sipped slowly as he took a chair opposite her.

 

“Now then, dear lady, we’ve found that the letter you were to deliver was to Adam Cartwright.  Captain of the Ainola if I recall correctly?”

 

“I don’t know.  Was it?  There was no address on the envelope when it was given to me.”

 

“You must have known it was important though - to someone, other than Captain Cartwright of course.”

 

“I don’t know, I tell you, I don’t know.  Please let me go -”  she clasped her hands together as though in prayer, fell upon her knees at which he leaned forward and grabbed at her hands and pulled her back onto her feet.

 

“Look, why not admit that you know a lot more than you’ve told us.  Where’s your husband for a start?  Why did you come here and not him?”

 

“How do I know?” she ran trembling fingers through her tousled mane of hair, “Look, I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why you’re doing this to me - but I don’t know anything.”

 

“Where’s your husband?”

 

She sat down, weak and too weary to stand any longer.  She buried her face in her hands and wept, all the time shaking her head and saying as though in an intonation “I don’t know, I don’t know …”

 

Chapter 5

 

In some ways life at the Ponderosa never changed.   Despite his absences from home Adam found the early morning gathering at the table for the first meal of the day consistent with all the memories of past meals.  He smiled to himself as he came down the stairs to greet his family while carefully buttoning up his shirt and joining them at the table.

 

The red and white tablecloth, the worn old coffee pot, the pink table ware that had been Marie’s pride and joy, they were all there just as they always had been in the past.  He sat down and nodded over to Hoss, Joe and his father.

 

“Wonder what today will bring?” he murmured as he poured himself fresh coffee and savoured its aroma.

 

“Water holes for me,” Joe groaned, “I’ll be glad when Candy gets back from his honeymoon to help me out.”

 

“You’re very quiet, Pa, everything alright?”

 

“Fine, fine -” Ben muttered as he put down one letter and picked up another.

 

“I gotta go check on that horse -” Hoss wiped his mouth on his napkin, and frowned, “she’s about to drop her foal any time now.  It’s her first and she’s a mite spooked by it all.”

 

He was about to rise to his feet when Ben half rose from his chair, sat down again and thumped the table with a clenched fist.  He screwed up the letter he had been reading, then exclaimed something indecipherable before picking the letter up and smoothing it out to re-read.

 

“What’s wrong, Pa?” Joe asked, leaning forwards in order to peer at the letter from over his father’s arm.

 

“A letter from Rawlins.”  Ben said through clenched teeth, “Apparently McGarthy had a meeting with several prominent heads of Virginia City’s leading mining corporations.   He and Henderson were invited along and were the only two who walked out.”

 

“And?” Adam prompted, holding his cup mid way to his lips while his eyes remained fixed upon his father’s face.

 

“They were discussing open cast mining operations on the Ponderosa.”

 

The three younger men looked at one another, then each turned towards their father.

 

“And - anything else?”  again Adam prompted his father who seemed incapable of speech.

 

“When he asked if there was going to be an offer to me about purchasing the land, Rawlins and Henderson were more or less told to leave the room.” Ben put the letter down slowly, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “They won’t be offering to buy the Ponderosa.”

 

“No, I don’t suppose they will.” Adam said in agreement and carefully raised the cup to his lips to drink the strong coffee while he stared thoughtfully at the far off wall.

 

“Pa, it ain’t gonna be possible to patrol every inch of our land any more than we are doing.” Hoss muttered, “We’ve got the men ready, but the fact is that we jest ain’t got enough men.”

 

“They can’t just march onto our land and start digging it out, can they?” Joe looked at each one of the men there, his hazel eyes depicting his anxiety, “I mean - not on the scale they seem to be planning.”

 

“I think I’ll go and see Rawlins -” Ben muttered as he carefully folded the letter back into its envelope, “Perhaps I’ll go and check on things with our lawyer as well.”

 

“Do you want any company?” Adam asked quietly and looked at his fathers anxious face, “I’ll come along.” he said immediately before his father had a chance to say yes or no, “It’s better to have someone witness what’s said, Pa.”

 

“I know that, son -” Ben replied but his mind was already full of what he needed to find out and hardly on anything that was being addressed to him.

 

“We could all go in -” Joe suggested, and glanced at Hoss who looked doubtfully back and shook his head,

 

“I can’t leave that horse -” he rubbed his chin, “could come in later though.”

 

“No,” Ben roused himself from his reverie, shook his head and smiled without mirth, “No, it’s alright.  Adam and I will go in and sort this matter out.  Even if it ends with McGarthy behind bars!”

 

Joe nodded and sighed.  Here he was a full grown man and still cleaning out water holes, and Hoss fussing over a horse.  Life just seemed to be one long road of same old things, day in and day out.  He glanced over at Adam in order to catch his eye but his brother was busy eating his breakfast, somewhat distractedly to be sure, but he didn’t look up or seem aware of Joe’s desire to communicate.   Hoss left the table and the door closed behind him.   The day’s business had begun.

 

………………….

 

Dorothea Armstrong was known to the clientele of The Palace Saloon as Peaches.  No one was sure as to why because Dorothea didn’t resemble a peach.   She watched the bat wings of the saloon open and close, smiled at the men who entered and sauntered towards them with a smile,

 

“Hello, Ben, Adam, its good to see you both here today.  Is there anything I can do for you, gentlemen?”

 

“You can tell us where Mr Rawlins is,” Adam replied, “We were told he was here.”

 

“Oh sure, he’s in the next room,” she trailed a hand along Adam’s arm and smiled, “Come and see me later for something to drink, Adam, it’s been a long time since I saw  you and there’s a lot of catching up to do.”

 

Adam made no comment to that, but walked away towards the other room behind his father.   Peaches watched them and then with a sigh leaned against the counter,

 

“Get me a drink, Charlie.” she sighed, and then turned to face the mirror that was suspended on the wall behind the counter, “Make it a long one -” she added and turned away.  She hated mirrors, they said too much about the passage of time.

 

Rawlins glanced up, nodded at Ben and Adam and indicated that he would be with them soon.  Together father and son took the chairs of another table and sat down while Rawlins finished his round of poker.

 

It didn’t take long for him to do so, and by the time he had joined them at the table a bottle of whiskey and three glasses had appeared, Adam poured out the drinks as Rawlins sat down.

 

“You got my letter?”

 

“Thanks for writing it and letting me know what was going on,” Ben replied, “Have you heard anything else?”

 

“No, everyone’s clammed up.  I tried to winkle out some more information from Jackson but he wouldn’t talk.   They want that gold badly, Ben.  McGarthy’s a crafty and ambitious man, he won’t let you stop him getting it either.”

 

“Whereabouts does he intend to start work?”  Adam asked, “I mean, he must have a location in mind.”

 

“South of Papoose Peak.  He’s had assayers and surveyors out there already.  He knows that it’s some trek from the house, away from your main working areas.”

 

“It’s close to Paiute land,” Adam sipped the whiskey, swallowed it and then raised his eyebrows, “There could be trouble if they go ahead with the plan to mine there.  I wouldn’t  have thought the land stable enough to take that kind of mining.”

 

“He’s thought it all out, Adam.  Got his engineers working on it all.  The other mine -”

 

“More than one?” Ben seemed surprised and shook his head, “He is ambitious!”

 

“The other mine he intends to get up and running near Lake Tahoe.”

 

Adam and Ben looked at one another, again Ben shook his head in amazement,

 

“He’ll ruin the whole area, the lake will be destroyed -”

 

“I don’t know what other plans he has, Ben.   You’ve a lot of land out there, you won’t be able to police it all.  That’s what he’s banking on, keeping you busy and -” he stopped and glanced upwards as the door opened and closed. 

 

“Good day, gentlemen.” McGarthy said amicably and he placed his hat upon the table and pulled out a chair, “I’m sure you won’t mind if I join you?  No?  I didn’t think so.  Well, Ben, it seems Mr Rawlins here has told you about my plans?”  he smiled at them all, “You must be wondering why your knowing about what I intend to do doesn’t worry me particularly?” he looked at each one of them in turn, his pale eyes boring into theirs, he picked up a glass and poured in some whiskey, “You see, Ben, I know that the land where I am going to mine doesn’t rightly belong to you.”  he gulped back the liquor and chuckled, “An oversight on your part I suppose.   Never mind, as the saying goes, it all comes to he who waits … and I’ve waited a long time for this, Ben, believe me, I have.”

 

A shadow of bemusement passed across Ben’s face as he looked at McGarthy, then he allowed himself a slow smile and shook his head,

 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, McGarthy, but you’re still going to have a long wait for that land.  It’s mine, legally all wrapped up, and I have no intention of ever selling to you.” he rose to his feet, picked up his hat and looked at Rawlins, nodded a farewell and left the table, closely followed by his son.

 

Once outside he released his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow before looking at Adam who was surveying him thoughtfully,

 

“Is it possible that he could be right, Pa?” Adam asked quietly.

 

“No, it isn’t.” Ben replied stubbornly and glanced up and down the street before nodding towards the offices of their lawyer, “But it may be a good idea to make sure.”

 

Adam said nothing to that but stepped in line with his father.  It sent a little trickle of apprehension down his spine to have to acknowledge the fact that his father was uncertain enough to have to go to the lawyer to make sure.

 

Chapter 6

 

Jeffrey Jamieson had changed a little in appearance since the last time he had boarded a stage coach for Virginia City.   Now he wore his hair longer and had a neatly trimmed moustache.  He wore a smart city suit, bowler hat, grey kid gloves and his kind gentle eyes were obscured by spectacles that gave him a rather owlish appearance.  His speech pattern had also changed for he now spoke in a distinct English accent, to be exact Thames Estuary English.

 

After the disappointment of his meeting with Mrs Joslin, Jeffrey had taken himself off to ponder over the matter for a while in a nearby park.   It had been while he was sitting there, staring rather fixedly at a statue of some recently departed philanthropic local, that he became aware of a pair of feet planted squarely in front of him. He turned his gaze towards them and allowed his eyes to travel upwards to meet the anxious face of a young woman.

 

After having stared at one another long enough to appreciate that each had decided that the other was the person they wished to address - although Jeffrey didn’t know exactly why - Jeffrey asked her if there was something the matter and how could he help. 

 

“I saw you leave the Joslin’s” she had replied rather tentatively, “Fact is, I showed you into the room.”

 

“So you did,” Jeffrey had smiled and nodded, “I’m sorry, I was so distracted that I hadn’t remembered.”

 

She shrugged, parlour maids were not meant to be remembered by visitors to the house and she accepted that as part of the job.   She cleared her throat,

 

“I overheard your conversation.  Fact is, I overheard Mr and Mrs Joslin talking earlier because it was about a letter, weren’t it?”

 

“A letter?  Yes, it was.”

 

“Well, fact is, when I was clearing things away from the table I found a letter.  I was going to return it to them but what with one thing and another I forgot.” she bit her lip and frowned, then had looked at him rather fearfully, “Fact is, when they started arguing about it I lost my nerve and didn’t dare to mention it.  Then you came by and -” she had then put her hand in her pocket and withdrawn it, and in her hand had been the letter.

 

Jeffrey had risen to his feet, looked at her frightened face, and taken the letter from her. Then he had released his breath as he had read the address, and glanced at the seal.

 

“Thank you.  This letter really is very important, I really do appreciate it, I mean, you’re coming here to give it to me.” he had stammered, and she had merely smiled shyly, turned and hurried back to the house, casting one last look over her shoulder at him before she had vanished from sight.

 

So now here he was, seated in the stagecoach en route to Virginia City, to the Ponderosa no less.   The letter would now be delivered to the Captain by hand.   He settled back into the seat with a sigh, and watched the views pass him by as he reviewed in his mind his previous adventures with the Captain, and then, considered exactly what the reaction could be to the contents of the letter.

 

There were only two other passengers, a woman and her young daughter.  Jeffrey relaxed a little more.   Whoever else had been interested in that letter had, he hoped, not yet thought of leaving the city.

 

……………….

 

“Well, how did you get on?”

 

Ben turned towards Joe and frowned as his youngest son threw down his hat, and began to unbuckle his gun belt.  He then looked over at Adam who was looking through a pile of papers that looked very complicated to Joe’s eyes.  It was now his turn to look from one to the other, he raised his extremely expressive eyebrows questioningly, and walked further into the room in order to pick up one of the papers which he glanced over quickly before placing back down on the desk.

 

“So?  Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?”

 

Adam grimaced and scratched the back of his neck, he in turn raised his eyebrows at his father and waited for Ben to speak.  Hoss, seated on the settee, ran his hand over his chin and stared a blue eyed gaze at his parent. 

 

“McGarthy is claiming that the land he wants to mine on the Ponderosa doesn’t actually belong to us.” Ben explained in rather a rush of words so that Joe had to think them over for a moment before he got the sense of it.

 

“Is he crazy? Of course it’s our land.”

 

“We know that, Joe, but we need the legal proofs to back up our claims should McGarthy try to prove his statement correct.”

 

“So?  What did you do?  Didn’t you tell him?”

 

“Of course we told him -” Adam’s voice held that derisive tone that Joe hated so much, he narrowed his eyes and put his hands on his hips in a defensive attitude, “But as Pa said, we need the legal proofs to back us up.  McGarthy wouldn’t have made those claims if he didn’t feel confident that we couldn’t prove it.”

 

“We went to see the lawyer but he was unavailable, so we went to the Land Registry office and they were closed.  Then we went back to the lawyer and he had gone out.” Ben passed a hand over his hair and sighed, “In general, we were given the run around.  All the time I had the feeling McGarthy was watching every move we made from his offices, and laughing at us.”

 

“But -” Joe paused, frowned slightly, “we’ve papers here to prove what land we own, haven’t we?”

 

“That’s what we’re checking through now.” Adam replied, “Hopefully we’ll find all the necessary documents here and those we don’t possess should be at the lawyers.”

 

“And if we don’t?  I mean, if we don’t find any papers or proof of ownership?  What then?”

 

“Shucks, Joe,” Hoss shrunk back a little, “You could try being a bit more positive about this here thing, couldn’t you?    If Pa says he has the papers, and it’s our land -” he gulped and glanced anxiously at the three other men, shrugged rather helplessly and clasped his hands together as though he just didn’t know what else to do with them.

 

“Well, one thing we do know and that is where to put our men -” Adam frowned, narrowed his eyes and looked at his father, “If McGarthy wants that land we’re not letting him have it without a fight, are we?”

 

“I never intended anything other than that, Adam” Ben said quietly, “But I had hoped that this wouldn’t develop into another feud like we had with the Bishops over the Truckee.” he rubbed his brow thoughtfully, “I’ll arrange to have men posted along the Tahoe and get the area around Papoose Peak guarded.  I’m surprised that he’d go  there, though, it’s wild country and too easy to stray onto Paiute land.”

 

“He’s too greedy to see sense -” Joe muttered, “The conniving snake.” he glanced over at Hoss who was looking thoughtful, “Did the mare drop her foal?”

 

“Yeah, she sure did.” the first smile of the evening passed over Hoss’ lips, “A real beauty.”

 

“And she did it all without Hoss’ help,” Adam chuckled, “He was in here eating beef sandwiches when it happened -”

 

“Hey, you -” Hoss laughed and rose to his feet, “Which reminds me, Hop Sing is dragging his feet over supper.”

 

Chapter 7

 

One major change in Virginia City was that there was no longer a friend in the law department.  Sheriff Roy Coffee had retired on the grounds of age and that he could no longer disguise the fact that his poor eye sight meant he was more of a danger to himself with a gun than to any criminal.   It was also obvious that the mushroom growth of the town required more than one man and a handful of deputies to see to the maintenance of law and order.  By this time the whole town had been quartered up into four separate divisions with their own Law Enforcement Forces.*

 

Whenever Ben entered the sheriff’s offices now he felt as though he were entering unknown territory.  Without Roy sitting behind the desk Ben felt as though he had entered upon the ship’s bridge without its Captain at the helm.   He looked now at the sheriff and realised that he had known the young man since his school days, and yet he was a complete stranger to him.

 

“Mr Cartwright, I can’t accept what you’re suggesting here.” Matthew Thompson said quietly, “The days when you could shoot trespassers down for stepping foot on your land have been and gone.  I can’t endorse an action that could bring about people getting killed.”

 

“Are you giving this same advice to McGarthy and his men?” Ben snapped, his eyes darkening, “If they step foot on the Ponderosa without my permission, which they won’t get anyway, and if they start mining there, then, by heavens, I’ll chase them out of there faster than you can say -”

 

“Mr Cartwright -” Thompson stood up and placed a hand on Ben’s arm, “Don’t start a war when it isn’t necessary.”

 

“What are you going to do to prevent it happening?” Joe asked quietly, and he looked straight into Thompson’s eyes in such a challenging manner that the sheriff felt his collar tightening around his throat.

 

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do if it does happen,” Thompson replied quietly, attempting to stare Joe out, “I’ll have all you Cartwrights arrested and in jail faster than blinking.”

 

“And McGarthy?” Joe raised his chin, “What if he does trespass on our land?  Can we rely on the law to come to our assistance and haul him off?”

 

“If you can prove he’s trespassing - then yes, you can.”  Thompson looked at Ben, then at Joe, “But I understand that it’s possible that he won’t be trespassing at all.”

 

“That’s a lie -” Joe hissed and took a step forward, remembering Thompson as a play ground bully during their school days and forgetting that he now wore a badge.

 

“Be careful, Joe.  I’ve still a number of scores to settle with you, remember?”

 

Ben placed a firm hand upon his son’s arm, and raised his eyebrows as though to caution Joe that enough was enough.  He said no more however but turned from the sheriff and made his way to the door, followed by a seething and resentful Joseph.

 

“I wish Roy were still here,” Joe murmured, twitching his hat slightly lower to shade his eyes.

 

“He would no doubt have said the same thing, Joe.  There’s nothing the law can do except warn both parties not to act rashly.”

 

Joe tightened  his mouth and thought of what a waste of time it had been to go to the sheriff in the first place.  Not that he could ever recognise Thompson as a sheriff, he had never had time for the man when they schooled together, less so now.

 

…………………………..

 

Caleb Shannon had acted on Ben Cartwright’s behalf for many years and now listened with sympathy and patience to the ranchers problem while he glanced nervously over at Joe who seemed unable to sit still for five minutes altogether and was obviously straining at the leash to get the matter settled one way or the other. 

 

He pulled out folders and files, rolls of parchment and long pieces of paper with red wax seals dangling on them.  By the time he had pulled everything out of his cabinet and safe Ben was beginning to imitate Joe, having developed a severe case of the fidgets and needing to walk over to the window to stare out at the  peaks of Sun Mountain.

 

“Where did you say McGarthy claimed you didn’t actually possess any land?” Shannon asked, and when Ben pointed to several places on the map the lawyer immersed himself among the papers once again.

 

Finally he sighed and re-emerged, looking rather like a dazed squirrel, he shook his head,

 

“I’m sorry, Ben, but with regards to Papoose Peak, I’ve no documentation on that whatsoever.”

 

“You must have.” Ben exploded, “For heaven’s sake, man, I made a treaty with Winnemucca himself.”

 

“Ah, well then, that’s the problem, the legal system doesn’t recognise contracts with the Paiute as far back as … what was it? … 1838?”

 

“No, it was later than that, it was after Joseph was born, about 1843.” Ben frowned, “Winnemucca *gifted the land to us, he made his mark on an agreement -”

 

“Ben, McGarthy could claim that anyone could have made that mark.  One of your sons could have done …”

 

Joe turned from the window with a scowl on his handsome face and shook his head,

 

“Then that would be a lie -”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m only stating the facts.  Perhaps you have the document at home?” Shannon looked at Ben rather pointedly but Ben shook his head, “Well, it isn’t here, I’m sorry.  Even if Winnemucca had signed, or put a mark on that paper, it wouldn’t have been legally binding.”

 

“Of course it would be legally binding.” Joe snapped, “Even during the Paiute war in 1860 Winnemucca never demanded that land back from us.  He gave it as a free gift to Pa because of the help -”

 

“It’s alright, Joe, there’s no need to go into all that.” Ben sighed, and shrugged, “Let’s discuss the land at Lake Tahoe then. I know for a fact that there was correspondence about that land between the Real Estate Department here, yourself, and the Government confirming that the documents I held from Mexico officially established my ownership of that land.”

 

“I know, and I remember the matter, Ben, it was after the Treaty of Guadelupe Hidalgo in 1848,* but of course, there was so much going on at the time.  So many claims being put forward and -”

 

“What are you saying?  That you don’t have that correspondence either?” Joe snapped, “Exactly what kind of lawyer are you anyway?  I thought our dealings were safe with you?  You’ve been acting for Pa and our family all these years and you don’t keep our papers safe?”

 

Ben looked at Shannon thoughtfully, then rose to his feet with a slight frown on his face,

 

“Shannon, my son has a point, we’ve trusted you for a lot of years but it seems to me very strange that the land that McGarthy claims doesn’t belong to me, also happen to be the areas where you have somehow or other mislaid the paper work.   It also seems strange to me that McGarthy found out about this at a time that suits him very well.”

 

“Are you saying that you don’t trust me, Ben?  After all these years?”  Caleb looked shocked, distressed, and he shook his head, “I’ll search more carefully, if there are papers then I’ll find them.”  he paused, frowned, “And if there is anyone in my employment who would have stolen them and used them for McGarthy’s benefit, I’ll find him as well.”

 

……………….

 

Jeffrey Jamieson shared the meal with the woman and her daughter at the way station ran by the Nesbitts.  He refrained from asking any questions about the Cartwrights or the Ponderosa.  Mrs Wilcox and her little girl may have been bona fide passengers, but life had proven to him that it was not possible to take everyone at face value.

 

He had had a lot of time to think over the situation.   He knew that the letter he was carrying to the Captain wasn’t going to be well received.   The letter that had required his involvement in the matter had mentioned the worrying matter of Captain Daniel O’Brien’s disappearance, and although a naval Officer was considered reasonably expendable the fact that an important diplomat had also disappeared with him created major concerns.

 

It puzzled him as to why the letter to the Captain had been given to Mrs O’Brien, who had in the past proven herself to be totally unreliable and feckless.  It was all very messy.   Jamieson liked things to be more black and white than this matter, and now the wretched woman had disappeared.  He had mulled that over and over in his mind … had she disappeared or had she returned to her old friends

 

Mrs Wilcox had proven to be a pleasant enough person, very inclined to chatter in between the times she was reading stories to her child or playing games with her to while away the time.  The little girl had also been very happy to come and sit with him and chatter.  It had all been rather a distraction from his thoughts, but it made him feel that his ‘new personna’ of an Englishman abroad was obviously one that made people feel safe with him.  

 

By the time Jamieson went to his bed that night his mind was whirling.  The worse thing that could happen was for the Captain to refuse orders.  After all, there was no doubt about it, the letter definitely contained orders.

 

Chapter 8

 

The lamps glowed warm and bright in the big room of the Ponderosa, but the four men grouped together around the table were ignorant of their enhancement to the room.  They trawled through papers, scrutinising carefully every scrap until in the end Hoss threw one piece down on the table and buried his face in his hands,

 

“I can’t do no more of this here -” he groaned, “my eye balls are aching like they were on fire.”

 

“Never mind, big brother,” Joe patted him on the head and grinned, “you go make another pot of coffee.”

 

“Yeah, but fact is I’m so full of coffee that my stomach’s afloat.” Hoss sighed and put a hand to his stomach as though to emphasise the point.

 

“I know how you feel,” Adam said as he leaned back in the chair and stretched his arms to the ceiling.

 

“McGarthy must have paid someone to steal the papers so there ain’t no point in trying to find them here.” Joe muttered tapping the paper he was holding, “All I keep finding are shares you’ve bought for all manner of things, Pa.”

 

“Well, the fact is that McGarthy thinks he’s got one over on us,” Adam half closed his eyes and the chair tilted precariously on two legs as he leaned back further, his hands folded behind his head, “I think we would do better to find the papers and documentation on every bit of land we have, then work out a plan of action.”

 

“Such as?  Pistols at dawn?” Hoss stood up and rubbed the back of his neck, he arched his back to get the crick out of it, and yawned.

 

“That would be the easy option,” Joe said with a smile in his voice, “If there’s a call for volunteers I’ll be first in line remember?”

 

They shared a smile and Ben rose to his feet, frowned and shook his head,

 

“It’s not good that they refuse to accept a document because it was signed by Winnemucca, it was a gift from a good man.”

 

“He’s an Indian, Pa, same as Chinese, they ain’t got no legal rights*.” Hoss reminded him quietly.

 

“All the same -” Ben absent mindedly picked up his pipe, “Winnemucca - well, he was known as One Moccasin* one time;  he didn’t trust the white settlers, not that there were many of us around at the time, not like his father, Truckee*, he was a fine man.  Winnemucca though -” he puffed some life back into the tobacco, some sparks glowed, “he wanted us out of his land.   Adam’s friendship with  his son helped where we were concerned, and then there was some illness that killed a lot of the Paiute, Marie did a lot to help there, that’s why Winnemucca gave us the land at Papoose Peak because of Marie.”

 

“Yeah, I remember -” Adam’s voice softened, he looked at his father and it struck him that one of the changes he had found hardest to accept upon returning home was the reminder that his father was getting older.

 

It had been a long and disappointing day.  In silence Adam and Ben set aside some of the papers and slowly began to sift through another pile.   It was not until l a.m that they were able to take some papers and together stand in front of the map that had outlined their boundaries for so many years.  Adam glanced at one paper and with his finger traced another boundary, and then another … then he smiled and looked at Ben with a twinkle in his eyes.

 

“You know, Pa, there is a solution to this matter, if we keep strictly to the letter of the law.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Well, we may not be able to prove we own the land around Lake Tahoe, or the land around Papoose Peak.  But we own everything else and have the papers to prove it.”

 

Ben nodded, his eyes, weary though they were, seemed to catch a fire in them, as though Adam’s idea, though unspoken, had transmitted itself into his own mind, he nodded,

 

“He can’t cross our land” he smiled, “ … unless he has learned to fly.!”

 

………………………………

 

Maria O’Brien opened her eyes and looked around her at the room which had been her prison for the past few days.   Her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep and weeping. Sometimes she would slip into a sleep out of sheer exhaustion and then wake up with a start, wonder where she was, and then remember.  Just like now.  As usual on these occasions her heart began to thud within her breast and it was all she could do to breathe properly.  She was about to rise up from the bed when a gentle hand touched her arm,

 

“Maria?”

 

Her name was whispered so softly that  she wondered at first if she had misheard it or perhaps mistaken some other sound for a voice, but then she saw the shape of a woman seated in a chair close to her bed.  A lamp shone behind her, so that she was partially in shadow, but Maria could see her lean forward towards her,

 

“Who are you?” Not a very original question but in the circumstances it seemed the best thing to say, she rubbed at her eyes, and waited for an answer.

 

“My names Sylvia, I’m a nurse from the local hospital.   They asked me to come in and see if you were alright as they were concerned for you, and the baby.”

 

“Concerned about me?” Maria’s voice contained a note of surprise, then she smiled and shook her head, “This is a trick, isn’t it?  You’re not a nurse at all, are you?”

 

The woman said nothing but stood up and approached the bed, she had turned up the flame in the lamp and now Maria could see that the woman was young, and dressed in a Nun’s habit.  The click of rosary beads sounded quite loud in the otherwise silent room,

 

“My dear, I don’t know who these people are, all I know is that they sent for a nurse to come and sit with you, to make sure you were alright.”

 

“I just want to go home to my family.  That’s the only reason I came here from Paris, was to be with my family.”

 

“But - what about your husband?  He’s there to take care of you, surely?  After all, you should be his first concern, you and your baby.” she sat down, and placed folded hands beneath the folds of her scapular, she smiled gently, and leaned towards the other woman, the veil she wore falling slightly across her face.

 

“Daniel’s away, he’s in the navy, he has to obey orders.”  she sighed and leaned back, closed her eyes, “I’m so tired.  I don’t know why they won’t let me go home.”

 

“I suppose because they’re concerned for you.” Sister Sylvia replied, and put a hand on Maria’s head and stroked back the wild tousled hair, “Have you been eating anything?  You need to, for the baby’s sake.”

 

“I know, but I’m frightened of these people.  Can’t I come home with you?” she opened her eyes wide, stared at the other woman with a stricken fearful look in her eyes and the other woman frowned, and looked confused,

 

“But these people are  your friends, aren’t they?  They certainly seem very anxious for your well being.”

 

“No, no, don’t be fooled by them, they just keep asking me questions that I can’t answer, I don’t know anything about a letter …” she paused, and lowered her eyes, “I can’t remember, there was a letter, wasn’t there?”

 

“I don’t know, my dear.” the Nun smiled patiently.

 

“Daniel gave me a letter in a blank envelope and told me to take it to his friend.  It was just before he went to sea.”  her voice drifted drowsily as though she were about to go to sleep.

 

“Did he say the letter was important, Maria?”

 

“Yes, he said I had to get it to his friend on the Ponderosa.  Captain Cartwright.”  Maria sighed, “Captain Cartwright.  It was in a blank envelope.  I got frightened when I saw the man coming -”

 

“What man?”

 

“A tall thin man, he reminded me of someone but - I can’t remember - so I gave the - no, that’s not right, I put the letter in a man’s pocket.  It doesn’t really matter.  I just wanted to be safe at home with my family.”

 

“Maria, don’t go to sleep now …”

 

“But I’m very tired.”

 

“I know. I know, dear, but tell me - where has your husband gone?”

 

“He never said. On a boat. He’s a sailor - a seaman -”  Maria shook her head, “I hate the sea.” she whispered and her body relaxed gently into sleep.

 

Sylvia rose to her feet and went to the door which opened to her light tap upon it.  She shook her head at the man she confronted and began to remove her veil, an abundance of golden blonde hair tumbled free around her shoulders,

 

“Well?”

 

“She doesn’t know anything,” she replied quietly, “It isn’t fair what you’re doing to her, you should let her go to her family.”

 

“She may know more than she admits to -”

 

“Oh for goodness sake -” Sylvia snapped in a far angrier voice that she had used in the other room, “she’s going to be very ill if you don’t let her go to her family, she could lose the baby, even die.  Have some feelings, for pities sake.”

 

“I think that Nun’s habit has got to you,” he laughed, “suddenly so sweet and kind -” he grabbed at her wrist and swung her towards him, “Come with me, we’ll talk about it elsewhere.”

 

……………

 

Jeffrey Jamieson woke up as the sun rose and sent shafts of sunlight drifting into the room.  He could smell food cooking.  For a few seconds he lay very still listening to the sounds around him, then he groped under the pillows for the envelope and relaxed as his fingers found it.  He put it safely into his jacket pocket and then rubbed at his face to restore some life into the stiff muscles.  In a few hours time he would be delivering the letter …

 

Chapter 9 

 

Maria O’Brien opened her eyes and closed them again quickly.  Her first thought was that perhaps she was going mad.   She gripped the edges of the bed with both hands as though afraid that if she moved at all, even twitched her feet, then she would roll right off all together.   Had everything been just a dream, a nightmare?  Perhaps she was still on the boat steaming its way to San Francisco.

 

She forced open her eyes and glanced around the room. It was pristine white, clean, sparsely furnished.  It was different, so very different from the other room where sleep had seemed impossible and where she had felt so much fear, especially when the door opened and the man would come in to ask all those questions.

 

She could see a door now and waited with her heart thudding .  There were voices from outside, firm footsteps, brisk and efficient, walking past her door and receding into silence.   She turned her head to see a small bedside cabinet with a carafe of water and a glass upon it.  There was a crucifix upon the wall and a small prayer book beside the glass.

 

She wanted to call out but fear of the man coming into the room prevented her.  She felt the sweat beading her face, and her hands were trembling, and when the door did open she gave a scream before she fainted.

 

Then someone was rubbing her hands and a cool cloth was wiped around her face, a glass of water put to her lips.  She opened anguished eyes to look up into the face of an elderly woman, her coif and veil identifying her as a Nun, and Maria recalled the other woman, the young girl, who had come and sat beside her earlier.  Perhaps now it was alright to sleep, so she closed her eyes again and clasped the older womans hands tightly within her own.  For some reason, for the first time in days, she felt safe.

 

…………………

 

Peaches sauntered around the saloon slowly, it was practically empty as was common at such an early hour of the day.   The Palace always opened early in order to catch the early traders and passengers who came in on the Placerville stage, or from the Virginia and Truckee railroad that ran short trips from Gold Hill.   Business wasn’t particularly lucrative but it gave them the edge on some of the other saloons in town.  There were too many of them, and it was becoming over competitive.

 

McGarthy pushed the doors open and glanced around the shadowy room before his eyes settled  upon the darkly clad man seated at a table in the corner.  He beckoned over to the bar keep for a drink.   Charlie knew from experience that McGarthy would be expecting a strong black coffee and set about preparing him one which  he handed to Peaches to take to their morning customer.

 

As usual she approached the desk and set everything down in place by the big man’s elbow, and as usual she received a smile, a wink and a pinch on the cheek.  She longed to tell him that she was too old for that kind of thing by now, but said nothing.  She knew it paid to keep quiet about most things in front of Mr McGarthy.   She glanced over at the other man who was hugging a glass of whiskey against his chest and her lip curled in contempt.  Whiskey this early in the morning meant problems for someone.  She twitched a shoulder, what did she care, she knew who he was anyway, one of those big shot lawyers up on Main Street.   She returned to her position near the counter and turned to talk to Charlie while her eyes watched the two men in the large  mirror.  With all her years of experience in handling people she could tell when there was a deal being discussed and she could almost smell when it was a dirty one.

 

“Well, what did he say?” McGarthy asked as he poured coffee from the pot into his cup, he glanced up at the other man, “Well?”

 

“Oh, he shouted some, you know how Ben Cartwright can shout …” Shannon scowled, “I had to pretend that some clerk of mine must have stolen the papers.  He knows that the papers were stolen, Liam, he remembers handing them over to me.  He won‘t let go of that land as easily as you think …”

 

“What makes you assume I ever thought that he would?  Do you think that I ever thought Ben Cartwright a feeble old man who would just roll over and hand me that land on a plate?  You’re an idiot if  you thought that.  No, I’m expecting him to put up a fight.  I know him almost as well as he knows himself.”

 

“I didn’t want to get involved in this, Liam.   Ben and I have been close friends for years and I don’t want him to find out that I’ve betrayed his trust.”

 

“Look,” McGarthy peered closely into the other man’s face, “there’s no point in you turning into some kind of bleeding heart now, Shannon.   You had your chance to say no, but you preferred to take the money and hand over what I wanted.  Now quit your gabbling on because I ain’t interested.”

 

“I just wanted you to know, that’s all.”

 

McGarthy scowled more deeply, he gulped down the coffee and poured himself some more while Shannon sipped at his whiskey.  McGarthy shook his head and the contempt for the other man was so obvious on his face that the lawyer swallowed down the whiskey faster than usual, choked, coughed and rose to his feet,

 

“Don’t ask me to do anything else for you, McGarthy, because I won’t”

 

“You can ask all you want, Shannon, but it’s too late, you’re in it too deep now to get out.”

 

“What if -”

 

“And don’t even think to threaten me,” McGarthy reached out a hand and gripped hold of the lapels of Shannon’s jacket, spittle sprayed from his mouth stinging the other man’s eyes, “Don’t dream of it or anything else either, unless you want some thing unpleasant to happen.  Just remember, Shannon, you have a daughter to look after, and you won’t be able to do any looking after if you happen to be dead.”

 

The colour drained from Shannon’s face, he passed a hand across his eyes, and with a last backward look at the other man he hurried away from the table as though he had been scalded.  McGarthy said and did nothing except drink more coffee.  After a few more moments he looked around him.  No one seemed to have noticed him, and if they had no one was inclined to mention it.  He snapped his fingers and pointed to Peaches,

 

“Come here a moment -” he said, and without comment she turned and walked towards him.

 

…………………

 

Sister Theresa de la Croix closed the door quietly behind her and turned to face the young woman who had been waiting for her in the corridor.  The convent served also as a hospital for the poor, and it was the vocation of the Nuns there to serve and care for those who were unable to afford doctor’s and hospitals in the city.    Sylvia rose up from the hard bench seat and approached the elderly nun with a look of concern, and, to her credit, the concern was genuine.

 

“How is she?”

 

“I’m afraid she is very unwell. It’s a great pity that she couldn’t have been brought here much sooner.”

 

“She isn’t going to die, is she?” 

 

The Nun looked sympathetic and placed her hand upon Sylvia’s arm, thinking as she did so how good it was for a young woman to show so much kindness to a complete stranger in bringing her to them for care in her hour of need.

 

“Well, she has lost the baby she was carrying.   Are you sure you don’t know her name, or who she is?  She is wearing a wedding ring, and her clothes aren’t the kind worn by the usual sort that come here.  I would say that she was not at all poor.”  she sighed and glanced at the door, as though her words could have been heard by the sad soul who slept on the bed within the room.

 

“I don’t know anything about her,” Sylvia lied, “I told you, I found her wandering in the street -”

 

“Perhaps a traffic accident?” the Nun ventured to suggest and Sylvia nodded as though the idea had never occurred to her before,

 

“It’s possible, of course -” she murmured, and sighed in the most sincere manner possible.

 

They turned together to walk along the corridor towards the high door which led to the main thoroughfare of the city, and here they parted with Sylvia promising to return as soon as she had found out any news about ‘the strange young woman she had found.

 

In her room Maria stretched out a hand for the glass of water near by, her fingers touched the carafe, and it toppled slowly to one side until it finally smashed upon the floor. The sound reverberated through the room like a gun shot going off and for some unknown reason she began to scream, and scream …

 

………………………

 

“How is she?”

 

The voice asking the question was cold, heartless.  Sylvia turned towards him, her own eyes filled with tears and she shook her head,

 

“It’s not fair,” she whispered, “You’re cruel and unfeeling, and I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done to that poor woman.”

 

“I’m not asking you for your forgiveness, I’m asking you how she was?”

 

“She lost the baby, she’s ill, very ill.  Jeffrey, I -” she gasped as his hand swung across her cheek a stinging blow and as she raised a hand to prevent him striking her again she saw his eyes blazing down at her,

 

“I told you not to call me by that name, do you hear me?”

 

“You’re mad,” she whispered even as her voice choked with tears, “I should never have got involved with you and  your stupid ideas.  Let me go, I don’t ever want to see  you again.” and she turned towards the door of the carriage in which they were both seated at this time, and fumbled for the handle.

 

………………..

 

Jeffery  Jamieson  stepped down from the stage coach and adjusted his jacket which had become decidedly crumpled during the ride.   The Overland stage* was certainly not designed for comfort over long journeys, and he brushed dust from his sleeves, while all the time his eyes glanced up and down the street, up and over all the buildings as well as the people passing by.  He had arrived at last and he was thinking of what to do next when he heard a familiar laugh accompanied by a warm guffaw.  He turned to see two men, two very familiar young men, striding from the General Stores.   He smiled, to be sure, the sun really did shine upon the righteous.

 

“Excuse me,” he called out in his newly acquired very English voice, “Excuse me, are you gentlemen by any chance connected to the Cartwrights?”

 

Hoss and Joe stopped in their tracks and turned to survey the dapper little man standing beside a neat leather suitcase on the sidewalk.  They looked at one another and then back at him,

 

“Wal,” the biggest of the two drawled, “that depends on whose looking for ‘em and why?”

 

“Yeah,” the other man nodded, placing his hands on his hips and eyeing Jeffrey up and down challengingly, “Just exactly who is it that wants to know?”

 

Chapter 10

 

“Is the Captain available?”

 

The Captain!  Those two words sent a shiver of apprehension down each Cartwright’s spine and Ben swallowed hard before he could reply to the man whose hand he had just shaken in welcome,

 

“No, Adam’s not here just now, but he shouldn’t be long.”

 

Jeffrey nodded and smiled at the three of them before accepting Ben’s invitation to take a seat.  He put the valise he was carrying down on the bureau and after a quick glance at the clock to check the time, he sat down.

 

“I must say, Jeffrey, I hardly recognised you.” Ben smiled as he took his seat in the red leather chair opposite their guest.

 

“We didn’t recognise him at all, you should have heard him talk, Pa, sounded a reg’lar English toff.” Hoss grinned and perched himself on the arm of the settee while Joe sat down and looked at Jeffrey rather thoughtfully,

 

“So why are you here this time, Mr Jamieson?   I always get the feeling that it’s bad news when ever I see you.” Joe’s voice was cold, not exactly hostile, but definitely cold.  His eyes also were sparking off green warnings within the honey hazel and his lips were a straight line of discontent.

 

“I - er - I can’t say, Joe.”

 

“Of course not,” Joe said between clenched teeth, “You have to check in with The Captain first, don’t you?”

 

“That’s enough, Joseph.” Ben’s voice cut across the younger mans tirade,  so that Joe was left biting down on his tongue and scowling at Jeffrey from under his eyebrows. Perched on the arm of the settee next to where Joe was seated, Hoss placed an affectionate consoling hand upon his brother’s shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t discuss anything until I see the Captain.  If you would rather I returned at a more convenient time -” he paused as Ben raised a hand to stop him talking,

 

“You’re more than welcome, Jeffrey.  You’ll have to forgive our apprehension as to what your visit relates to, but we - well, we’re pleased to see you, and looking so well too.”

 

“My latest disguise” Jeffrey smiled, “My mother was English so it wasn’t too difficult to recapture the accent.”

 

“Why did you need a disguise?” Joe asked bluntly.

 

“A precaution” Jamieson said quickly, “It’s difficult to explain.”

 

“You’re under no obligation to do so, Jeffrey,  I’m sorry, we’re just inquisitive by nature.” Ben forced a smile and then glanced over to Hop Sing who was bringing in coffee on a tray, “Thanks, Hop Sing.  You remember Mr Jamieson, don’t you?”

 

Hop Sing nodded, bowed his head and placed the tray down.  He gave Jamieson a stern look of approbation which did nothing to lessen the man’s fears and suspicions that perhaps he would have been safer if he had stayed in town.

 

Adam rode Sport slowly at a walking pace into the yard, glanced with slight curiosity at the buggy and horse nodding over the hitching rail.  He recognised it as the one Higgins hired out and the horse was an old acquaintance. He dismounted and twisted the reins over the rail, stroked the visiting horses neck and walked thoughtfully back into the house.

 

He would have had to have been blind, deaf and stupid not to have recognised that something was going on, the atmosphere was so thick that it was like walking into a fog.

 

“Anything wrong?” he murmured as he removed his hat and rather anxiously looked at each member of his family before he saw Jamieson who had now risen to his feet, “Who are you? I’m sorry, but -” he paused and then his dark eyes opened wide in surprise, “Jeffrey Jamieson?”

 

“Yes, sir, one and the same, sir.” Jamieson nodded and fumbled about awkwardly with his hands as he wasn’t sure whether or not he should salute.

 

“Well, this is a surprise,” Adam smiled, extended his hand and shook Jamieson’s warmly, he looked at his father, “Isn’t it, Pa?” then he smiled blithely at Jamieson again, “You‘re looking rather smarter than I can remember.   Have you married, settled down, huh?”

 

Was he feigning ignorance?  Was he denying the obvious?  Was he deliberately pushing aside the inevitable until it could no longer be avoided?  Jamieson licked his lips and watched as Adam unbuckled his gun belt and carefully folded it, set it down upon the bureau and then turned to face his family.

 

“No one’s died, have they?” he asked with his eyebrows raised and his eyes flicking from one face to another, “Jamieson?”

 

“I - er - I -” the hapless man glanced over his shoulder at Ben, who was looking thoughtfully at his son, Joe and Hoss had remained so still that one could have suspected that they had suspended breathing.

 

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until after supper.”  Adam said briskly, and rubbed his hands, slapped Jamieson on the shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie, and smiled at Joe and Hoss.

 

“Supper’s a long way off yet, brother.” Hoss said glumly, “Where’ve you bin anyhow?”

 

“Oh, just attending to some business.” Adam shrugged, then he stood very still, looked at Jamieson “Well, you had better tell me what you’re really here for, Jamieson, before my family keel over from the suspense.”

 

“It’s -”

 

“No, it’s not private from my family.  Just spit it out, man, and stop dithering.” the dark brows furrowed across the tanned brow, and the near black eyes smouldered.

 

With some deliberation he walked to the old blue chair and sat down, straightened out his legs and leaned back, surveyed Jamieson and once again raised his eyebrows in that somewhat mocking but quizzical way that demanded a response.  Jamieson pulled an envelope from his pocket and looked down at it, before he handed it to Adam. 

 

“Who’s this from?”

 

“It’s - it’s from Captain O’Brien.  He gave it to  his wife just before he set sail a few months ago.  She brought it as far as San Francisco but has since disappeared, I don’t know what has happened to her except that she was met at the customs department by a tall man who claimed to be a friend of hers.  She slipped the envelope into the pocket of a fellow passenger -” he licked his lips, his eyes darted from one to the other of them, “I don’t know what Captain O’Brien has to say in the letter to you, sir, but I was actually sent to give you this -” and he produced from the valise a large package which he passed over to the other man.

 

He turned it over and over in his hands, the colour faded from his face, his heart raced and then the colour rushed back. He couldn’t raise his head to meet the eyes of his brothers and father whom he knew would be watching everything he did, waiting for anything he was to say. He cleared his throat and then raised his eyes to look at Jamieson,

 

“Do you know what this is about?” he held up the package, and Jamieson nodded,  “Well, then, perhaps I could just leave it until later.”  he noticed Jamieson stiffen, “Well, perhaps not.”

 

He looked at the blank envelope that contained the letter from O’Brien, a letter that was rather thick and with a red seal, then he looked at the package which had the seal of the Secretary of State embossed upon it.  He licked his lips and flicked a quick glance over at his father, who looked as though the sword of Damocles was about to descend at any moment.

 

The thick paper upon which the Secretary of State had written crackled in his hands as he unfolded it, and he smoothed it out carefully before glancing up at Jamieson who seemed the only calm person there.  There was a quietude in the room that was so loud that Adam could hear his heart thudding.  Not now, he thought to himself, not now.

 

“Well, Adam, what does it say?  Or can we guess?” Joe’s voice was brittle, emotionally charged, if Adam thought his heart was thudding loud enough for the world to hear then he only had to look at his little brother to see how rapidly his was beating, he could barely get the words through his lips.

 

“It’s from the Secretary of State.  It’s to inform me that I have been promoted to rank of Commodore -”

 

There was a moment of silence.   The rank of Commodore had been established in the American navy only from 1862, so was a fairly unknown ranking to laymen such as themselves.

 

“That’s good, ain’t it?” Hoss observed in the silence that followed.

 

“Congratulations, son.” Ben smiled, his eyes were rather moist, the implication of the promotion may or may not have sunk in, but his pride in his son was more than obvious as he stepped forward to give his son a warm shake of the hand, both hands outstretched to seize that of his boy. 

 

“Yeah, congratulations, Adam.” Joe managed to say although his voice was thin and there was a slight break in the words.

 

“Is that all it says?  Seems like a mighty lot of writing jest to tell ya thet.” Hoss drawled.

 

Adam licked his lips with the tip of his tongue, raised his eyes to meet his fathers,

 

“I have to report to my ship as soon as possible.” he said in a lower tone of voice.

 

“Well, I suppose that has to be expected,” Ben replied after a moments hiatus, and he took Adam’s free hand in both of his own and gripped it hard, very hard, while he clamped his mouth down tight shut and just nodded, his eyes bright with tears, perhaps; pride, most definitely.

 

“Where is your ship?” Joe asked quietly, having cleared his throat and trying to keep his voice flat and conversational.

 

“In harbour at ‘Frisco.”

 

“D’ya know where you’ll be going from there?” Hoss wanted to know as he looked at his brother and knew deep in his heart that these minutes were the longest and hardest Adam had borne in a long time, and he saw the way Adam raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, then to rub his temple as though he had to force himself to get through the coming moments.

 

“Tokyo”  came the reply eventually, “In Japan.”  he swallowed hard, “I have to see the Admiral there …” he looked at Jamieson then, “Are you part of the ship’s company?”

 

“Yes, sir.  Commodore.” 

 

Adam nodded, he shook his head as though to clear his thoughts from emotion and then folded the letter away, then he picked up the other one, the one that Maria had brought from France, from Daniel.

 

“So, Daniel’s a Captain now?” he said quietly.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Ben stepped back, forced a smile to his lips

 

“Well, this calls for a celebration, doesn’t it?   We should have a drink -” and he walked to the cabinet and brought out his best whiskey, “Shall we?” he looked at Adam, quirked a dark eyebrow. and if his smile was a little forced, Adam was probably the only one to notice.

 

Later Adam was able to go to his room, where he opened the letter from Daniel O’Brien, and very carefully smoothed it out upon the desk top before commencing to read:

 

“My friend, Adam,

 

I am enclosing here in this letter my recent orders.  I know this is a breach of privacy but I have no choice but send them to someone whom I can trust.  I am sorry, Adam, but I think that of all men, you are the only one I can really trust.  May be it is  because of the dangers we shared in Alaska, and of all the time we have known one another.

 

You will see that I have been promoted to Captain.  I jumped rank, Adam, how about that?   I would have been quite happy being a mere Lt. Commander.  However, such is as it is, and I am sending this letter to you via my wife, Maria.  I would ask you to take care of her, or rather, that your family would do so, and keep her safe. 

 

You see, I have recently seen Jeffrey Metcalfe.  Like a shadow he has drifted through my life these past few weeks and seems to be everywhere.  I have made enquiries about him, but to no avail.  It is as though the man had fallen from the face of the earth and yet, I swear, I have seen him here in Paris, and in Vienna.  

 

Tomorrow I board my ship, the Baltimore.  I shall not go into further details but you will see from my orders where I am going.  If I do not contact Maria in a months time she is to come to you with this letter.   Jeffrey Jamieson may know something about what is going on, I have seen him recently too, but he seems reticent to talk.    

 

This letter is confused and muddled, much as I feel I suppose.  I have to trust you, Adam, but at the same time I am afraid that there is great danger ahead for us, because I can not imagine that Metcalfe’s appearance means anything other than vengeance on his part against us, and any who may have baulked his plans in the past.

 

Sincere best wishes … Daniel O’Brien”

 

Adam looked at the date and then re-read it through slowly before he took out the orders belonging to his friend.  He read that Captain O’Brien was to escort ‘A Person of National Importance’ on an Ambassadorial commission to Tokyo, forthwith.

 

He folded it over carefully, struck a match and set it aflame.  He watched it burn and as it did so he heard his father’s foot steps mounting the stairs and approaching his room.

 

Chapter 11

 

“Not planning on burning the house down, son?” Ben smiled as he spoke and watched the last of the paper fall into a blackened smouldering pile of ash before he walked to the window.

 

For a moment there was silence.  Neither man could find the right words to say at the time, and both knew that whatever they said would, could, never really reflect exactly how they felt.  Ben remained at the window staring out at the view beyond while Adam bit his bottom lip and writhed inwardly in his struggle to find his voice.

 

“I - I needn’t go, you know?” he blurted out suddenly, breaking the silence and looking anxiously at his father who turned towards him, a slight frown drawing his black eyebrows beetling across his brow. “I don’t want to be a Commodore, I - I just want - I just want to do what’s right and this just isn’t the right time to go now.  I could resign and  just leave them be.”

 

“Yes, you could.” Ben nodded, and then turned back to look out of the window, while he thought over what Adam had said.  He wanted to say the right things in order to pacify his son’s feelings, but at the same time he wanted to hear the right words for his own emotions to be soothed and comforted.

 

“With this McGarthy situation brewing, Pa, I can’t leave.”

 

Ben drew in a long long breath, and shook his head before he turned to his son and looked into Adam’s eyes.  He smiled slowly, and once again shook his head.  Why, it was just like all those years before when he had looked at his son and heard him saying

 

“With Ma gone, and everything, Pa, I can’t leave.”

 

Where had the years gone?  Yet here was that same son, with those same anxious worried brown eyes looking up at his father and needing the same reassurances just as back then.

 

“We can handle the McGarthy problem, Adam, that’s our concern.” he said slowly, “As for your not going and refusing this commission, well, you know that you will, you have to, that’s how you were raised, to be honourable and dutiful.  Your President requests you to do this, for whatever reasons he may have, and he has to come above the requests of your father, of your family.”

 

“I -” Adam opened his mouth in protest, then clammed it shut, after all he wasn’t a wet eared youth anymore, he was a man in his 40’s and knew very well where his duties lay.  He shook his head, then lowered it towards a hand that rubbed his brow nervously, “Pa,  it’s just come at the wrong time.”

 

“Whatever time would have been the wrong time, son.” Ben sat down opposite Adam and stretched out his legs, reached out a hand which he placed gently upon his sons, “Adam, we’ve got a little greedy and too complacent, we’ve had you here for - what? - a year now.  We should have realised that it couldn’t have gone on indefinitely.  Not many Officers have that length of time from their assignments.”

 

“I should have retired but when Grant said that he would be calling on my services in the future I felt that I had no choice but to remain on the lists.”

 

Ben nodded, remembering the President, the situation at the time and what had been said.   Inwardly he cursed the man, while respecting the office,

 

“I can understand that,” he glanced around the room, sniffed and raised his eyebrows, “So?  What were you burning?”

 

“Some documents Daniel sent me.”

 

“Is he - alright?”

 

“I’m not sure, I have to talk to Jamieson about it.” Adam drawled the words out slowly, and fingered the ash so that it disintegrated beneath his fingers. 

 

“Of course -” Ben nodded, bit his lip and rose to his feet, “When do you expect to leave?”

 

“Soon.”  involuntarily Adam clasped his hands together between his legs and glanced up at Ben who again nodded as though he really didn’t need to be told the time, the hour or the day.

 

“Tokyo’s a long way away,” he said quietly as he turned towards the door.

 

With his elbow now on the desk Adam raised his hand to rub against his brow, he sighed, and then brought his hand down over his face before once again clasping his hands together.

 

The door closed quietly and he listened to his father’s footsteps as they departed from the room, along the landing and down the stairs.

 

 

Chapter 12

 

“Are you sure? Really sure?”

 

Jamieson opened his mouth as though in surprise that the other man could doubt his word,  then he looked haplessly at the letter in Adam’s hand and pointed to it,

 

“Captain O’Brien seemed sure, sir”

 

Adam glanced down at the letter, bit down on his bottom lip and scowled, before looking from under his eyebrows at Jamieson

 

“Alright, Jeffrey, you had just better go through the whole thing from the beginning.” he looked again at the letter and then turned his back on the man as though staring out of the window would help him to concentrate, “For a start, how did you know he had left Russia?”

 

Jamieson, who had opened his mouth to ‘start from the beginning’ now closed his mouth in order to think of an answer to the second question, he cleared his throat

 

“When Captain - then Lieutenant O’Brien - reported seeing him in Vienna the security forces checked things out.   Our contacts in Russia confirmed that Metcalfe had left the country about three weeks earlier.”

 

“And went straight to Vienna?”

 

“No, sir, he didn’t.  He came to San Francisco to check on his contacts there, found out what had happened to Pelman and realised that everything had more or less disintegrated as a result. That little band of rebels has been completely crushed, there’s nothing and no-one eager to start another civil war for the Confederacy now.” he allowed a slight smirk to drift across his face and then realised that Adam had turned around to face him, his hands behind his back and a thoughtful expression on his face,

 

“So he went to Vienna and saw O’Brien there?”

 

“Well, he saw Lieutenant O’Brien there, of course, but it was purely co-incidental.  Metcalfe is a very wealthy man in his own right, and most of his money is in foreign banks.  That’s how he managed to salvage his assets, by depositing them there during the War.  While other men lost everything, his money was piling up the interest.”

 

“So what does this wealthy  man do now?  He sees O’Brien in Vienna and then -” he grimaced and shrugged, “goes to Paris and sees O’Brien there as well.”

 

“Yes.” Jamieson nodded.

 

“Co-incidence?”

 

“The first sighting was, at least one assumes it to have been, but not the others.   Somehow and for some reason he has made it his business to know Mr O’Brien’s whereabouts and to know that Mr O’Brien had written to you.  For some reason -” he stressed the repetition of the phrase he had already used “it seemed important to him to know what that letter contained.  That indicates that his interest may be in yourself, and if it is then it is thought that his business now is solely occupied in getting revenge on yourself.”

 

“By taking Mrs O’Brien where?”

 

“We don’t know, yet.”

 

“Do ’we’ know if Metcalfe has taken on a different name, another personna?”

 

Jamieson shrugged,

 

“Metcalfe may be known one day as someone and the next as someone else.  At the present time he is called Ralph Forster.”

 

“And you have no idea where Mrs O’Brien is?  Do you think she is still alive?”

 

Jamieson shook his head, “We don’t know, sir.”

 

“What are ’we’ doing about finding her?”

 

“Everything we possibly can.”

 

The reply was calmly given, and as a result Adam paused in his pacing up and down the room, and now looked at Jamieson thoughtfully, before perching himself on the arm of the settee to think over what he had been told,

 

“Would Metcalfe know about O’Brien’s trip to Tokyo with this important other person?”

 

“I should think he would find out easily enough, he was still in France when Mr O’Brien embarked on to the Baltimore which was waiting for him in Marseilles.”

 

Adam nodded then, and looked down at the letter in his hand, he frowned again

 

“O’Brien couldn’t have imagined his wife to be in any danger, otherwise he would have sent her immediately to her own family instead of sending her here with that letter.” he pursed his lips and half closed his eyes as he considered what he had been told, and then he re-read the letter once more, “Jamieson, what do you know about my orders? And about where O’Brien is now?”

 

“That’s the whole point, sir, no one knows where Mr O’Brien is now.  I can’t tell you what your orders are, sir, that’s for the Admiral to tell you when you get to Tokyo.”

 

“Is it possible that Metcalfe may be involved in another political affair to ruin Grant’s government?  He was in Russia long enough to have formed alliances, wasn’t he?”

 

“Yes, and it is possible that he has done so.  I can’t confirm it, sir.  I’ve not been told anything of that nature.”

 

Adam pulled a wry face, typical of Jamieson to become inscrutable when it suited him.  He stood up and folded the letter neatly back into its envelope, at the same time the clock struck the hour.

 

…………………………

 

As he undressed for bed Adam thought back over the preceding hours. The evening meal had been eaten in comparative silence, as everyone seemed occupied with their own thoughts and anxieties over Jamieson’s appearance and Adams impending departure.  Any attempt to make it a more light hearted affair failed, Joe was depressed, Hoss confused.  It went without saying that both Adam and Ben were not happy at the turn of events.   Afterwards the conversation had been solely about things that wouldn’t touch on the matter they all really wanted to talk about, as a result the mood had been sombre and formal.

 

He lowered the flame in the lamp and folded his arms under his head, stared up at the ceiling and tried to think about the future, and about Metcalfe.   He was still puzzling over the man when he fell asleep.

 

………………………….

 

“Adam, wake up, wake up.”

 

He forced himself out of his dream by an extreme effort and struggled to open eyelids that seemed determined to remain glued together. Finally he opened his eyes to see Joe looking down at him.  He narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose

 

“Jos? Wassamatter?” his tongue seemed to be still asleep and he raised himself on his elbow to peer more closely at his youngest brother, “Are you alright?”

 

“You were yelling in your sleep.”

 

“Yelling?  I don’t yell …”

 

“Well, you were. I heard ya.”

 

He yawned and rubbed his face, blinked again and looked at Joe thoughtfully.  In the glow of the lamp which he had forgotten to extinguish, Joe looked just a slightly older version of the little boy who would demand to crawl into bed with him on cold winter nights.

 

“What was I yelling?”

 

“Something about Rostov and -” he stopped as Adam raised a hand and nodded, “Does that make any sense to you then?”

 

“Rostov - yes - yes, that’s right, I was dreaming of Rostov and Lawson.”

 

“Who were they?” Joe perched himself on the side of the bed and looked intently at his brother who was now staring thoughtfully into space.

 

“Two of my men.  They died in Alaska.  They - I -” he bit his lips, and his face contorted slightly.

 

He had been dreaming. He could remember it now.  He had been looking down at their faces, Rostov and Lawson’s.  Frozen and stiff with the snow falling down upon them, upon their wide open eyes that stared unseeingly up at the stars of the night sky.  He had left them there, unburied, and in his dream he was trying to waken them up just as Joe had woken him.  He shivered, and then looked again at Joe,

 

“Well, anyway -” he sighed and put his hand gently on Joe’s arm, “I’m sorry, Joe.”

 

“What?  About leaving?”

 

“Of course about leaving.” he frowned, had things got so that Joe didn’t care anymore about whether or not he stayed or left?

 

“I guess I’m getting used to it.  I don’t like it though, Adam.  Not now, we need you here.  But you know that, don’t you?” Joe’s hazel eyes blinked, and his Adam’s apple jerked convulsively in his throat, and his brother could see how his heart was beating by the  flutter of his nightshirt.

 

“It’s all about timing, isn’t it?  Guess it’s something I never did get right.”

 

“Adam, I wish you weren’t going.  But I know you have to go because - because you have to obey orders after all.   I understand that, but it doesn’t make your leaving any easier for us.”

 

“It doesn’t make it any easier for me either.” Adam replied in a low voice, “Odd, isn’t it?  Times I longed to get away from here, explore the wide open world out there, expand my knowledge -”

 

“I felt the same too, for a little while.  I could never leave home again though.”

 

“You should get married, Joe, raise a family here.”

 

“Yeah, I guess I’ll get round to it sometime.” Joe smiled, a whimsical grin, “It’s a pity that you - I mean - with Barbara.”

 

“It would have meant leaving someone else behind, wouldn’t it?” Adam raised an eyebrow, he felt the warmth of Joe’s arm through the cloth of the nightshirt, “You’ll take care of Pa and Hoss, won’t you?”

 

“Sure I will, as best I can.”

 

“I don’t trust that Shannon, Joe.  Keep an eye on him.”

 

“I always disliked him too,” Joe nodded, they shared a smile thinking of Ben’s loyalty to his ’friends’ and how he would feel if he knew that two of his sons felt this way about one of them.

 

“When are you going?”

 

“Soon.”  Adam replied, “From what Jamieson said, I should have left days ago.” he sighed, “Probably go on the afternoon stage tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow?  That IS soon.” Joe scowled, he drew in his breath and slowly exhaled, “Well, alright, if it has to be -” he placed his other hand over Adam’s and lowered his head.

 

There was no need to say anything else, what they felt, what they wanted to say, was written down on their faces.

……………………..

 

In the morning he took Sport out early.  He wanted to go and see the places he loved, all those places from which he had once wanted to never see again but which had been like a hook in his heart and drew him irreversibly back.   As he looked over Lake Tahoe he felt the pain a creative man feels when looking down at a piece of artistry beyond any human beings ability to invent.   The sky was losing the pink and orange glow of early dawn, the clouds were reflected as a perfect mirror image in the Lake.  Pieces of poetry trickled like snatched songs in and out of his mind but none of them remained fixed in place for him to quote and meditate upon.  Meditation was solely taken up by drinking in the beauty before him.

 

It was a piece of heaven on earth and he sighed deeply remembering a morning when his father had said just that very thing.

 

He pulled at the reins and turned Sports head towards home.

 

Chapter 13

 

The black horse stood quite still as its rider dismounted and waited for the horseman to draw closer.   He knew that his brother would come in this direction and had waited patiently until the rider on the chestnut appeared and now that he could see Adam so clearly he wondered what he was going to say.   He twisted the reins in and out of his fingers while his eyes never left the sight of his brother and his horse coming closer and closer.

 

“Waiting for me, Hoss?”

 

The deep voice held a smile in it, and Hoss glanced up, thumbed his hat to the back of his head and nodded,

 

“Yeah, figured on you comin along this way.”

 

“Are you riding home with me?”

 

“Nah, thought p’raps we could spend some time together down by the river.”

 

Adam didn’t speak but dismounted slowly, and together the two men walked through the tall grasses down to the river with their horses following along behind them.   Finally Hoss stopped, glanced around him and then smiled at his brother,

 

“Know why this is such a special place for me, Adam?”

 

“Yes, I know.”

 

“I like coming here,” Hoss drew in a deep breath, inhaling the air which smelt sweet and clean, of wild flowers and hot sun on pine needles that wafted across the river on the breeze.

 

“I figured you did,” Adam nodded and released Sport’s reins so that the horse was free to amble where he chose, he knew the animal wouldn’t go far, the grazing was too good where he was anyway.

 

Hoss did the same and together the two men continued to walk down towards the beach.  One tall man dressed in black matching his strides to those of his ‘bigger’ brother in his weather beaten brown vest and plain loose beige shirt. 

 

“Was a time I used to try to match my strides to your’n,” Hoss smiled, “Was a time I had to look up to you.”

 

“Was a time you used to do what I told you,” Adam replied with a grin,  “Was a time it was just you and me against the world.”

 

“Yeah, that was what it was all about then, weren’t it?” he sighed and sat down on the grass, Adam did likewise, stretching out long legs and watching as the wild flowers bent over to accommodate him.  “Up thar,” Hoss jerked a thumb to the track that they had just left, “that was where Pa stopped the wagon and said that this was going to be our land, our home.  It was bright sunshine like now, and the wild flowers were scattered about making the place look right purty.  I reckon on it being the best day of my life.”

 

“You never liked travelling,” Adam picked a daisy and twirled it around and around in between his fingers, “Every time we stopped at a town or settlement you created a fuss when we had to leave.  You just wanted to set down roots any place rather than get back in that wagon …”

 

“Yeah, I remember -” Hoss nodded and the blade of grass he had picked he chewed on, “But I love this place.”

 

“So do I.” Adam replied slowly.

 

They didn’t speak for a few minutes, Hoss threw the blade of grass away, and looked up at the sky,

 

“Sure wish you weren’t going, Adam.”

 

“I know, it’s not very good timing, is it?  McGarthy -”

 

“Dadgummit, Adam, I don’t care a fig about McGarthy, it ain’t about timing either - it’s jest that I wish you weren’t going.” he glanced over at Adam and his face contorted a little as he struggled to keep his emotions in check, “Sometimes I jest git so afeared that you may never come back home.”

 

“Well, that’s possible every day of our lives living here, Hoss.  How many times has one of us come close to dying from some crazy gunman with a grudge, or -”

 

“I know,” Hoss broke in, dismissing Adam’s words with a wave of the hand, “that ain’t the same as going on the sea and travelling all them miles away, and us not knowing whar you are or how you are - it kinda eats us up inside you know?” he looked at Adam, wondering whether his brother realised how much his absences concerned them, then he looked away.

 

“I know, I have the same worries too, wondering what’s happening here -” Adam sighed now and looked over to the ponderosa pine clad hills beyond the river, “I remember the times we used to come here fishing -”

 

“I remember the day you caught a fish that hooked you in the river,” Hoss grinned.

 

“Yeah, sure was a big un, wasn’t it?  Pa had to dive in and haul me out.”

 

“You kept hold of the fish though.”

 

They shared a smile, a laugh.

 

“Remember the day we lost Joe?” Adam said, “He was only a few years old, and he’d wandered off.  Thought he’d drowned and Marie was sure upset.”

 

“Yeah, I guess that was the day we realised he was always going to be a handful of trouble.”

 

“Keep an eye on him for me, Hoss, won’t you?”

 

“Shucks, ain’t I always done?”

 

They said nothing, slipped into a companionable silence because they didn’t need to speak anymore.  They lay in the sun and felt the warmth of it upon their faces, the flowers nodded over them and all they could hear was natures orchestra humming, buzzing and sounding all around them.

 

………………

 

Firm handshakes, straight controlled faces, eyes that may have been a little moist but looked at one another firmly and then he was gone.  Jamieson beside him and a couple of sodbusters opposite.   Everything packed away and stacked away neatly into the trunk of the stagecoach.

 

They waved, raised a hand in salute, received a corresponding wave of the hand and then the stage coach jerked into action and was rolling him out of town.  

 

Just for a moment each one of them felt the isolation and loneliness of the heart when someone loved suddenly ceases to be a shadow of themselves.  They knew that once again there would be the empty room upstairs, the black clothes hanging in the wardrobes, the books waiting for their owner to open them once more.  There would be once again the empty chair at the table for even Candy would no longer be taking his place there now, for his seat was at his own table beside his wife in the house that Adam had built all that time ago.

 

“Well, come on, boys,” Ben said quietly, “Let’s get home, there’s work to be done.  I have to pay a visit to Caleb and see if he has any information for us.”

 

They turned and walked away just as the dust clouds from the departing stage coach began to settle back onto the road.  Only Hoss glanced back over his shoulder to see how far the vehicle had gone, and he was able to see it turn the corner and disappear from  sight.

 

Chapter 14

 

Caleb Shannon watched the approach of the Cartwrights towards his office and wiped the perspiration from his brow.  He pulled out various folders and files from the appropriate cabinets and piled them on the desk then sat down with pen in hand and began to write on a piece of paper in front of him.  If he could look busy perhaps they would go away.

 

Despite expecting their arrival he still jumped when the door opened and the three men entered the room.  It was Hoss who closed the door behind them and it seemed to Caleb as though they filled the room, he felt as though he were suffocating and pulled nervously at his collar,

 

“Not a good time, Ben. I am sorry but as you can see -” he gestured to the paperwork that was amassed on his desk.

 

“That’s alright, Caleb, I wasn’t intending to stay I just wanted you to come with me to see Winnemucca tomorrow.”

 

“Wha- at?” a large blob of ink splattered onto the page upon which he had been writing and Caleb made a choking sound in his throat,  “I don’t think I’ll be available, Ben.”

 

“Well, I think you’ll jest have to re-think your plans, Mr Shannon,” Hoss said simply, “Pa needs you to meet him at the Ponderosa tomorrow, so you’d best be there.”

Caleb glanced at Hoss and then at Ben, he noticed the way Joe was watching him, narrow eyed and tight lipped. It’s not good being a man with a guilty conscience as he was finding out. He lowered his head and looked down at the blot, slowly he picked up the blotter and carefully dabbed at it,

“Why’d you want to go and see him for, Ben. You know anything he signs won’t be accepted as legal and binding, don’t you?”

“In which case this whole town will have to close down and everyone in it move out, because I don’t think the U.S. Government are quite in agreement with you there, Caleb.”

“The U.S Government paid good money for this land, Ben, it isn’t the same thing at all.” he looked again over at Joe and noticed how he was peeking through the blinds at the window as though he saw something, or someone, of great interest there. He twitched his eyes to look at Ben, “A Deed of Gift signed by Winnemucca wouldn’t hold up in court. McGarthy knows that -.”

“Ah, yes, Mr McGarthy!” Ben nodded, “Have you found out yet who stole the papers from your office, Caleb? I don’t want to find any more papers missing in the coming weeks, it won’t do your business much good.”

“I - I’ve not pinned down the culprit yet, Ben, but I shall do.” Caleb nodded in assurance that to say the word as to see the deed done, “Now about this trip to Winnemucca -”

“If the land can’t be considered as mine, Caleb, then it will revert back to the Paiute. That means that anyone trespassing on that land won’t have the Cartwrights to deal with, they’ll have a whole tribe of Paiute ready and waiting to make sure they don’t come again. I thought you and I should visit Winnemucca and put him on notice, so to speak…” Ben turned away from the lawyer and approached the door, he half turned “I’ll see you tomorrow then, about mid morning.”

They left, one followed by the other, Joe glanced at Caleb and frowned, with his hand on the door handle he paused,

“You know, Mr Shannon, it sure isn’t that hot in here,”

“Wha-? What do you mean?”

“Just that you’re sweating a whole lot.” and without another word he turned and closed the door behind him.

Caleb pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his face. Did they know something? His act of perfidy didn’t sit well on his conscience and he slumped back in his chair feeling totally isolated.

…………………..

Sylvia Brooks took a quick look at herself in the mirror as she approached the door of her room. She saw a tall blonde woman with shadows under her eyes, a bruise purpling her cheek bone, and the rouge standing out from the pallor of her face. She stooped to pick up her large carpet bag and after another startled look in the mirror at the woman she barely recognised as herself, she closed the door.

This was her chance for freedom and she was not going to miss out on grabbing at it. Jewels that had been gifted to her were now safely stowed away in her bag, along with some clothes, perfumes and a few other items with which she didn’t want to part.

For the first time in so long, he, Jeffrey Metcalfe, had left the house, left San Francisco en route to the Ponderosa with plans to remove that Captain Cartwright out of his life for good. And she - she had spun dreams of escape, and even more daring, of a rescue.
Sylvia was adept at picking locks. She’d been doing that for a long time and now she merely smiled when she found the door of her room locked. A hair grip, a few minutes, and the door swung open. Merry the maid who had been stationed there to ensure that she remained in her room just stared, opened her eyes as wide as could be and then winked. She stepped back for Sylvia to hurry down the stairs and out of the house.

A hansom cab passed by and stopped as she hailed it. The driver watched her clamber in with her heavy bag,

“Where to, Miss?”

“The Convent of Hospitaliars.” came the reply, “Please, be quick, hurry.”

…………………

“Mr Shannon didn’t seem too happy to see you, Pa.” Joe observed as they cantered through town, “I’ve got a feeling that he can’t really be trusted.”

“Really?” Ben raised an eyebrow questioningly, “And what makes you think I trust him, Joseph?”

“Don’t you, Pa?” Hoss asked, looking at his father with amazement, “Then why’d you go thar fer?”

Ben smiled,

“Because then Mr McGarthy gets to know what’s going on sooner rather than later.”

“He does?” Hoss frowned, “How come?”

“Because Caleb will tell him.” Ben said with a sigh, “Don’t worry, Hoss, the only lawyer I have ever trusted for many years now is Julian Frobisher, and unfortunately for us he isn’t here to help us now.”

…………………

The hospital was a large building tucked down a side street and it was here that Sylvia paid off the hansom cab before hurrying to the big wooden doors with the heavy bronze handle.

It only took a few moments to locate Sister Therese who listened to Sylvia attentively and with complete trust on her side led her to the room where Maria O’Brien was being held.

It was not that she was a prisoner just that she was so frail and delicate from her illness, and now she watched the approach of the well dressed woman behind the nun with something like suspicion and fear, remembering the face but unable to recall when exactly they had met before that particular moment.

Sylvia took the initiative by sitting down opposite Maria and explaining that she had come to take her from the hospital, should she so wish.

“Where are you going to take me?” the voice was very low, Sylvia had to lean forward to hear what she was saying and reached out her hand to take hold of Maria’s. She was somewhat surprised when Maria drew her hands away.

“I thought you might like to go where you felt safe, away from anyone who would hurt you again.”

Maria lowered her head and thought about that carefully. She remembered that she had been hurt, that a tall thin man with evil eyes had hurt her. She looked over Sylvia’s shoulder and caught the eyes of the elderly nun, who smiled at her sweetly,

“It’s alright, child, this young lady wants to help you.”

“Yes, Maria, I want to help you. Look at me -” she pointed to the bruise on her face and the bruises on her arms, “That same man hurt me too. I want to get away from him but I can’t leave here without knowing that you’re safe too.”

“I don’t know -” Maria shook her head and folded her arms tightly across her chest as though to protect herself from unseen dangers.

“Isn’t there anywhere you can think of where you would be safe?”

“Daniel said to go to the Ponderosa, to the Captain.” Maria’s eyes widened with excitement, she had remembered something, and that had been an achievement for the nun beamed a big smile and nodded encouragingly.

“No, you can’t go there -” Sylvia cried, “That’s where he’s gone - the bad man - he’s gone there. I can’t take you to the Captain.”

“Then I shall stay here until Daniel gets home.” Maria sighed, she cast down her eyes to stare at the floor.

“What about your family? Can’t I take you to them?”

Maria said nothing, she just stared at the floor and no longer heard anything at all. The nun put her hand on Sylvia’s shoulder and shook her head,

“That’s all she can do for the moment, perhaps if you come back later.” she whispered, and stepped back.

……………………..

The Attorney at Law was a man whom Sylvia had once met at some party or other. She had liked him, and his wife had been kind and pleasant. She had spent some time with them, talking about their past and how they had arrived in San Francisco some years earlier. As she stood in the foyer of the building and waited to see him, she recalled the conversation, or rather, the relevant snippet upon which she was building her hopes.

She had asked them how they had made their fortune and the wife had laughed and told her the most fantastic story of how she had prospected for gold in Virginia City by washing the clothes of the miners. Her husband had laughed along with her and told Sylvia that it was true, that many women who took in washing found more gold than the miners did, for the gold dust got trapped in the seams of clothing and the very vigorous washing they were given loosened the tiny specks of ore into the water which was later sieved very very carefully and stored away for safe keeping.   It was the fact that the couple had been in Virginia City that was the key to Sylvia’s hopes and when she was told to follow the  clerk to Mr Frobisher’s  her nerves were as taut as a bow string.

 

“Well, young lady, what can I do for you?”

Julian Frobisher offered her a chair, the most comfortable in the room, and looked at her like a kindly father would look down at an errant child. Perhaps he had noticed the nervous clenching and unclenching of her fists or the way she glanced over her shoulder when the door closed,

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she exclaimed, “Not that there’s any reason why you should, but I remembered you and your wife telling me that you were in Virginia City at one time.”

“Yes, that’s correct -” he frowned thoughtfully, “where did you say we met?”

“I didn’t - say, I mean - it doesn’t matter, a party somewhere. Mr Frobisher, did you get to know the Cartwrights at all?”

“Which Cartwrights do you mean?” he narrowed his eyes and looked at her thoughtfully, his experience with young ladies like her had taught him to be very careful how he answered questions like that -

“The Ponderosa, the Cartwrights of the Ponderosa.”

“What’s your interest in them?”

She raised a hand to her brow, rubbed her temple and realised how cold her hands were, she looked appealingly up at him,

“A man I know, not a kind man,” she paused and noticed his glance at the bruise on her face, “he wants to kill Captain Cartwright.”

“Captain Cartwright?” Frobisher frowned, “Why?”

“I don’t know the full story, sir, except that he hates him, and anyone he hates he destroys, if he can. Would you telegraph them and warn them that he’s on his way there, and tell them that there’s a young woman here at the hospital of the Hospitaliers, Maria O’Brien. She’s very ill. They’ll know who you mean -.”

“And who exactly am I to say is on his way to remove Captain Cartwright?” Frobisher asked quietly.

“He could be calling himself anything by now. His name is Jeffrey Metcalfe -”

“Oh yes,” Frobisher nodded, “I know the man you mean.”

“And do you know what he’s capable of?” she rose to her feet, her hand on the arm of the chair as though to steady herself.

“I know enough -” he nodded, “And what about yourself? Where are you going?”

“As far from here as possible.” she replied, and extended her hand to accept the one he had held out to her, they shook hands with the reserve of strangers who respected one another, and then she was walking out of the room closing the door behind her.

 

 

Chapter 15

 

By some quirk of irony, the travellers on the two stagecoaches, one heading to Virginia City and one leaving it, sat down to breakfast a mere twenty five miles apart.   Metcalfe graced the table at the Muellers way station with his brooding saturnine presence while Adam took his place at the Goat Springs way station and smiled a pleasant greeting to Mrs Nesbitt.  His mood was contemplative and introspective.

 

In Virginia City Caleb Shannon was telling McGarthy the latest developments with regard to Ben’s plans on meeting with Winnemucca.  McGarthy chewed on the end of his cigar and scowled as he listened to Shannon’s dialogue. 

 

“You’ll have to stop him going,” he declared with a flourish of the cigar, “Winnemucca needn’t know what’s happening, if he thinks the land is Ben’s then he’ll figure out that Ben has decided to do some mining work there.  Just don’t get Ben to go to the camp.”

 

“How do you expect me to stop him?”  Shannon whined, “Do you honestly think that anything I say would stop Ben Cartwright doing what he thinks best?  McGarthy, why not just give up on the whole thing?”

 

McGarthy rose or rather reared up from his seat behind his desk and gave Shannon a look of contempt that was so undisguised that Shannon broke out in a sweat and his heart pumped harder than ever beneath his vest.  Of the two men, Ben Cartwright and Liam McGarthy, that had him squeezed between them, he wasn’t sure which he preferred or whom he detested the most.  

 

“Do you really think I’d bow down to Ben Cartwright?  After all these years of watching him and his boys getting richer, and more influential in the territory?  I’ve had to eat their dust for too long, and I ain’t backing down to them now.”  McGarthy growled, casting the soggy remains of his cigar into a nearby spittoon.

 

“It wouldn’t be backing down, though.  It would just mean making some kind of agreement, a compromise -”

 

“I don’t compromise.”

 

“Liam, if Winnemucca decides he doesn’t want your kind of mining bang slap next to his land, he would turn pretty wild. You may not have been here in ’60 *when he turned nasty then, but he has his two sons raring to have a battle with the diggers and -”

 

“I told you, I don’t compromise.”

 

“But there’s lives at stake -”

 

“Only if Ben Cartwright gets to see Winnemucca.”

 

Shannon shook his head, trying to get McGarthy to see sense was like trying to break through a brick wall with a feather. He stood up and picked up his hat,

 

“I’ll do what I can, but I can’t make any promises, Ben’s a stubborn old man, and a determined one.”

 

“Then believe me, Shannon, I’m more stubborn and more determined than that old goat will ever be.”  McGarthy leaned forward, “Now you just get to the Ponderosa and find some reason that will stop Ben Cartwright going anywhere near Winnemucca’s land.”

 

As Caleb Shannon descended the stairs from the office of Mr Liam McGrathy, he wondered just how he could stop Ben, what argument could he put forward that would not be immediately countered by the rancher, what forceful declaration could be bring about that would not be dismissed by his old friend.   With dismay mounting in his heart, Caleb stepped out onto the street and momentarily blinded by the suns rays, stood for a while to get his bearings.

 

……………………

 

Adam Cartwright sat in as comfortable a huddle in the corner of the stage as he possibly could, with his arms folded across his chest and his hat lowered to cover his face, he allowed his mind to wander back and forth over the past years.   He pondered on what kind of ship he would be using to get to Tokyo, he reminded himself that he needed to purchase a book that would give him some information about Japan, its customs and language.  He considered the plight of his friend and fellow officer, Daniel O’Brien and the hapless voyager of ’some importance’ who had gone missing with him.  He yawned and stretched out his legs, involuntarily drew them back when his booted foot struck against the foot of the person seated opposite him, and struggled to resume his meditations.

 

Jeffrey Jamieson was watching the views go by as many passengers have done since travel began. He was looking forward to returning to the city and getting his orders.  He was wondering whether it was the Captain or himself who had changed because he sensed that the relationship between them was strained.   He glanced over at the still figure huddled in the corner and frowned, perhaps it was just that the Captain no longer had that love for the sea, and that the pull to his family had become stronger than it was

 

previously.  Perhaps he resented him, Jamieson, appearing with orders and hauling him back to sea?  In that case, Jeffrey told himself, he needn’t take things quite so personally, it was the message and not the messenger whom Adam Cartwright was at odds with now.

 

The coach veered carefully from the track in order to make way for the coach that was heading towards them.  This was the customary area where both stage coaches would pass the other, and it happened just once a month according to the schedules of the Wells Fargo Company.  As the coaches passed each other passengers could get a glimpse of the occupants of the other coach and it happened that as Jamieson casually looked up and into the interior of the other vehicle his eyes met those of Jeffrey Metcalfe.

 

Both men recoiled back in surprise but the glimpse was so momentary that Metcalfe wondered for a moment whether or not  he could have been mistaken in assuming the man he had seen was Jeffrey Jamieson. Why think it when the man he had just seen looked so different?  The next question he asked himself was why had he instinctively thought it to be Jamieson?  The only answer he could give was that Jamieson had recognised him, the brief look of astonishment and recognition had been strong enough to trigger a memory in Metcalfe’s mind and that had been sufficient for a trickle of apprehension to run down his back.

 

There was nothing he could do now but to sit out the rest of the journey and decide what to do when he reached Virginia City, but at the back of his mind he was already telling himself that he was too late, his enemy had already slipped from his grasp.

 

Jamieson had gasped and grabbed at Adam’s arm, rousing the other man who sat up, tipped his hat from his face and looked at Jamieson with darkly arched brows.

 

“Metcalfe, I saw Metcalfe.”

 

Adam pursed his lips, shrugged.

 

“We need to stop the coach -”

 

“What on earth for?” Adam muttered, “If he’s on the way to Virginia City let him go.”

 

“But he’s -” Jamieson paused, glanced at the other passengers who were looking confused but interested in what was going on, he leaned in towards Adam, “he’s obviously looking for you.”

 

“Well, he isn’t going to find me then, is he?” Adam almost hissed back, and pulled his hat back over his face, closed his eyes and tried to settle his thoughts.

 

So, Metcalfe was en route to Virginia City.   Adam pursed his lips thoughtfully, as he considered what Metcalfe would be thinking of doing now.  He could of course get a horse from the way station and pursue this coach in an attempt to catch up with it and murder him, or continue on his way and hatch some other devious plot instead.  Adam thought over the man for a while, and decided that he could do nothing until Metcalfe himself showed his hand.

 

…………………

 

The buckboard rocked to a standstill and Caleb Shannon glanced cautiously around him in the hope that he would find no one at home. He groaned inwardly when the door opened and Ben Cartwright emerged onto the porch, his head bowed in concentration as he buckled up his gun belt.

 

He glanced up and smiled at Caleb, who mustered up a smile and a gulp, he took several steps forward to meet with rancher half way across the yard.

 

“Ben, I was just thinking that perhaps this is not quite the right approach to the problem.  Maybe if we were to step inside and just reconsider the whole matter and see if we couldn’t find some other way of dealing with it.”

 

Ben paused, frowned and shook his head,

 

“I don’t really want to deal with it in any other way, Caleb.  In all honesty I think we should notify Winnemucca of what is happening and -”

 

The crack of a revolver cut across anything he had to say, as he drew out his own gun and fired in the direction of the stables Caleb Shannon collapsed on the ground, clutching at his chest from where petals of blood were blooming over his smart grey jacket.

 

There were conflicting noises, the sound of horses, the sound of footsteps … he was on one knee supporting the other mans head in an attempt to hear what he was saying, Hop Sing was hurrying towards them, and a group of horsemen appeared, the sheriff in the lead.

 

“He’s been shot,” Ben cried, “Help me get him into the house.  One of you men get back to town for the doctor -” he stepped back as two men dismounted, hurried to help Hop Sing get Caleb into the house, but no one else moved.

 

The instinct of survival in every man is a strong thing and shows itself in the ability to interpret the signals that herald danger.  Ben felt those signals at that moment as he stepped away from Caleb and looked  up into the face of the young man, Matthew Thompson.

 

“It’s always good to see you here, sheriff,” he said quietly, “but what exactly are doing here right now?”

 

“We met Mr Shannon on the way here, he asked us to keep close in case he was in danger.  It seems he was right, he was in danger.”  Matthew replied, and dismounted, “Hand over your gun, please, Mr Cartwright?”

 

“My gun?”

 

“You heard what I said,” he reached out a hand “Mr Shannon didn’t like what you were going to do, he was going to tell you to change your mind and he anticipated trouble.  When we met up he -” Thompson breached the gun and sniffed, “yeah, this gun’s just been fired.”

 

“Of course it has, I fired at the person who shot at Caleb.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mr Cartwright, but I swear we only heard the one shot, ain’t that so, boys?”

 

The ‘boys’ murmured assent, and Thompson shook his head and sighed,

 

“I’m sorry, Mr Cartwright, I’m afraid that I’ll have to take you back into town with us.”

 

“And if I refuse to go?”

 

“Then I’ll have to arrest you.” he passed Ben’s gun to one of his deputies, and then glanced over at the house.  The two men who had gone into the building with Hop Sing were now striding back towards them, despite their grim faces there was a swagger in the way they were walking that denoted that their news was not all bad, to them anyway.

 

“Mr Shannon’s dead, sheriff.” one of them announced and all eyes turned to Ben who stepped back, startled and defensive.

 

“In that case, Mr Cartwright, I ain’t got no other option than to arrest you for the murder of Caleb Shannon -” he paused and shook his head, “in cold blood too.”

 

“For heaven’s sake, man” Ben protested, “I did not shoot Caleb.  Someone shot him from the stables, I shot back and -”

 

Thompson just stared blankly at him and then turned to mount his horse, before looking down at Ben,

 

“You’d best saddle up, Mr Cartwright, you can put all you have to say in writing in a statement when we get to town.”

Chapter 16

 

“Now, just hold on a minute thar!”

 

Hoss Cartwright put his hat down slowly onto the bureau and looked at each person in the room with his blue eyes resembling two chips of blue ice.  By his side Joe was breathing fast and heavy,  his hat still in his hands as he looked from one to the other of the people in the big room of his home.

 

Something was wrong - they had realised that as soon as they had seen the buggy belonging to Doc Martin as well as the one owned by Caleb Shannon in the yard and no sign of Buck.  Their first instinctive thought was that something had happened to their father, and they had hurried to enter the house to find out what it had been, only to find themselves confronted by Paul Martin, Victoria Shannon and Hop Sing.

 

“Father arrested in jail” Hop Sing’s shrill voice had exclaimed while Paul had said something about “Caleb Shannon’s been shot, I put him in the guest room.’ and Victoria sobbing “How could he do it, my Pa was his best friend” (an exaggeration on her part but she was in shock!)

 

They all stopped, except for Victoria who was still crying into a rather large handkerchief that Joe rather suspected had come from the Ponderosa laundry basket.

 

“Right now -” Hoss slammed his gun belt down by his hat while Joe remained staring woodenly at the three people before him.

 

“I spik first” Hop Sing cried and told the two younger men how Ben had been arrested for the murder of Caleb Shannon a few hours earlier, “But Mister Ben say other man shoot first -”

 

“My Pa wouldn’t shoot anyone -” Victoria sobbed anew.

 

“Not your father, man from stables, shoot your father and Mister Ben shoot at man but then sheriff come.  He say Mister Ben tell lie, no other shot fired only one and that one is bullet in Mister Shannon.”

 

“Let me get this right, the sheriff didn’t believe my Pa?  He thinks Pa shot Mr Shannon?” Joe cried with his face going pale and his lips narrowing into a dangerous sign of a soon to be explosion of anger.

 

“Sheriff say Mr Shannon dead, Mister Ben kill him.  Not listen to Mister Ben.  He say ONLY ONE shot fired.”  Hop Sing nodded, the emphasis on only one solely his and obviously significant.

 

There was a moment of silence, Hoss gulped and wasn’t sure what to say next, he glanced at Joe and then at Victoria who was now descending slowly into a chair with the handkerchief to her eyes.  

 

“I’m sure sorry about your Pa, Miss Victoria, and don’t you worry none, we’ll find out who his killers are -” Hoss said slowly, deliberately, and he looked at Paul who was standing thoughtfully by the table waiting to be heard, “Thanks for coming out, Doc, guess there weren’t much point, was there?”

 

“Well, to be honest, Hoss, there was - someone had to bring Miss Shannon here and someone had to see to her father.” he gave Joe a swift look as the young man opened his mouth to say something, “The announcement of Mr Shannon’s murder is rather premature.  I’ve extracted the bullet, which came from a colt .45 revolver.” he opened the palm of his hand to expose the bullet, “Mr Shannon is very seriously injured, there is the possibility of -”he glanced at Victoria who blew her nose, “of death, but no guarantee of it.  Miss Shannon has agreed to stay here to care for her father and I know that Hop Sing will take good care of him also.  The sheriff seemed very hasty in concluding that Mr Shannon had been killed, he didn’t even stop to examine the fact for himself.” he frowned, “Pity Roy wasn’t still in charge here.”

 

“You don’t mind if I stay here to look after my father, do you, Joe?  Hoss?”

 

“No,” they both said together, Hoss heaved a deep breath and blushed a little, while Joe looked concerned and stepped closer towards her, placing a hand gently on her arm, “Just let us know if there is anything we can do to help.”

 

“Just explain why your father wanted to kill Pa, if you can?” she raised her chin and looked at him with the tears swimming in her eyes.

 

“Miss Victoria, our Pa wouldn’t shoot anyone, not anyone, believe me.” Hoss cried, and Joe nodded,

 

“You can believe him, Miss Shannon, Victoria, and me, our Pa would never have shot your father unless it was in self defence -”

 

“Man shot Mr Shannon from stable -” Hop Sing interjected.

 

“Did you hear the shot, Hop Sing?”

 

Hop Sing sighed, shook his head,

 

“Not sure, hitting stove pipe with pan - too much noise.” he shrugged as four pairs of eyes were levelled at him, “Stove pipe clog up with soot, need bang hard to bring down.” he explained.

 

“Is Mr Shannon able to talk, Doc?”  Hoss asked, “Perhaps he could tell us what has happened?”

 

“He can’t talk, Hoss, he’s far too sick, and very weak.  I don’t really recommend you even try to get him to talk just yet.  But I have been thinking -” Paul frowned, “I can’t help but think that Sheriff Thompson acted very hastily in this instance, and it seems to me very strange that that posse happened to be here so soon after the incident, in fact, almost as soon as it happened.   I was thinking it wouldn’t do any harm to let them carry on believing Mr Shannon has died, and see where it leads to.”

 

Hoss and Joe exchanged thoughtful glances before Joe shook his head,

 

“I think it would be more interesting if we let them know Mr Shannon hadn’t died, Doc.”

Joe replied thoughtfully, “If they haven’t a dead body, they can’t keep Pa in jail.”

 

“For attempted murder they can -” Paul replied with raised eyebrows and he looked at them both anxiously, “Very well, we’ll do it your way, so long as it doesn’t place my patient in any danger.”

 

“Well, Doc, that rather depends on how much some folk want him dead.” Joe answered , “But don’t worry none, we’ll make sure he’s kept safe and sound and out of harms way.”

 

“Very well,” Paul snapped his bag shut and then approached Victoria, “Now, my dear, don’t be alarmed, your father has a strong constitution, and I’m sure he’ll pull through this.”

 

Miss Victoria Shannon gave him a rather watery smile and a nod of  her head, shook the doctor’s hand and then quietly excused herself to go upstairs to the room where her father lay.

 

…………………..

 

“Well, did you find anything?”

 

Hoss straightened himself up and shook his head, after an hour of careful searching around the stable area, and pacing out the location of where Ben had been standing and Mr Shannon had fallen, there was still no evidence to prove Ben’s statement to be accurate.

 

“Whoever shot Mr Shannon didn’t leave no evidence behind him, Joe.  Any footprints left around here have been mussed up real good.  There ain‘t no cartridge left and I can‘t even find a hole for whar Pa‘s bullet could‘ve got to.”

 

“What a mess!” Joe exclaimed, “We’d better go ride into town and talk to Pa.  They’d be expecting us to do that, perhaps we can get him out on bail.”

 

“Huh, yeah, I can see the kind of money Thompson would be asking for that as well,” Hoss groaned. “The whole thing stinks.”

 

“Hoss, any idea who could  be behind this?  I mean, this ain’t no random killing is it?”

 

“No, I don’t reckon on it being thet at all.  This was planned, it’s clumsy, but it was planned.”

 

From the window of the room in which her father slept Victoria Shannon looked down upon the two young men.  She had only recently returned from Chicago where she had been teaching in a school for the blind.  She was an intelligent girl and had stepped into the void her mother had left at the school upon her death several years ago,  Mrs Shannon had  been a teacher at the school for some years since she had become blind as a result of a domestic accident. 

 

It seemed an irony that almost as soon as she had returned to Virginia City she found herself a guest at the Ponderosa under such disastrous circumstances. She could remember going to school with Joseph Cartwright and as she watched him talking by the corral fence with his brother, she smiled at the memories of the many occasions when Joe had created havoc due to some mischief or another. 

 

She dropped the curtain  and returned to her father’s bedside.  What a wretched man he had become - and for a moment she found herself wondering just who was responsible for her father’s shooting.

…………………

 

Rawlins was waiting outside the sheriff’s office when Ben strode out of the building flanked by his sons.   The explosive atmosphere within when the news had been delivered to the sheriff that Mr Shannon was not, in fact, dead, and that Ben could not, therefore, be charged with murder, had been potentially dangerous.  The level of noise from the shouting, the cursing and abuse from Thompson (and a fair bit from the Cartwrights one had to admit) had caused people passing by to pause and then hurry on by, only Rawlins had stayed and waited patiently.

 

Bail had been set at a higher figure than usual, but it had been paid, the forms duly signed and Ben was able to leave the building.   Hot with anger, boiling with rage, Ben was ready to thump a few heads together when he saw Rawlins, and paused in mid-step.

 

“What do you know about all this?” he growled.

 

“Nothing at all, Ben.”  Rawlins replied, “Is it true that Shannon isn’t dead?”

 

“Quite true.” Ben snapped, and behind him Joe and Hoss nodded affirmation.

 

“Any place we can go to talk?”

 

Ben nodded, and led the way towards the Sazarac.

 

…………………….

 

McGarthy faced the men seated at the table and listened to what was being said.  He had expressed his own horror at the attempt on Shannon’s life, had expressed relief that he was still living and declared it an abuse to justice that Ben Cartwright could walk free.  Most of the very prosperous and prominent men seated at the table agreed with him, some had their suspicions and kept them to themselves.

 

“This isn’t going to stop us though,” he said, “We’re going to make sure that our plans go into action soon.”

 

“Is it true that the Cartwrights were going to involve Winnemucca in this?” Murdoch asked, and flicked ash casually into a crystal glass ashtray, “Only I don’t want an Indian insurrection on my hands.”

 

“There won’t be one,” McGarthy said coldly.

 

Jackson and Richardson shared a glance, obviously uncertain about such a vague promise.  McGarthy shrugged,

 

“We’ll leave the Papoose Peak area free for a while, we’ll just concentrate on the Tahoe plans.  They go ahead as soon as we have the equipment available.”

 

………………

 

“You know that Shannon has been working for McGarthy?” Rawlins leaned forward, the four heads almost met over the centre of the table, “He gave McGarthy the papers about your land, and he was instructed to stop you from seeing Winnemucca.”

 

“Well, he would have known nothing he could say or do would have stopped me from doing that,” Ben picked up a glass, narrowed his eyes and surveyed Rawlins thoughtfully, “How do you know all about this?”

 

“I have a friend who is a very close friend of Mr McGarthy.”

 

“Some friend -” Joe raised his eyebrows, “if they’re prepared to spill the dirt on him to you as soon as his back’s turned.”

 

“Well, let’s say this friend is a friend I share with Mr McGarthy.” Rawlins gave a slightly embarrassed grin and the other three men silently consented to ask no more questions.

 

“What else does your friend know?” Ben prompted, and glanced anxiously over Rawlins shoulder to make sure they weren’t overheard.

 

“McGarthy intends to get to work on the Lake Tahoe land as soon as he can - that could be within a few days, Ben.”

 

Hoss swallowed hard,  he couldn’t put how he felt into flowery words, but the thought of seeing such a beautiful place ripped apart for open mine casting made him feel ill, he looked at Joe and knew from his brother’s face that he felt exactly the same.

 

“A lot can happen in a few days,” Ben replied quietly.

 

Chapter 17

 

San Francisco was as always.  As Adam stepped from the stage coach the smells and noise of a busy over crowded metropolis assailed his senses and he sighed, glanced over at Jamieson and raised his eyebrows.   He tipped his hat politely to the departing fellow passengers and then checked the time by the clock on the building opposite.

 

The first thing to do was to report to the Admiralty and check in with them.  There were other things he needed to do before boarding ship and as he watched Jamieson organising the luggage he allowed his mind to wander over them.  In no time at all he was walking to a hansom cab rank and clambering aboard one of them.  His eyes saw familiar sights and he winced at the thought of what beautiful country had been excavated to make way for the humans that would continue to devastate and pollute the area that he had once known when virgin soil.

 

In less than an hour the sound of the sharp tread of his booted feet could be heard down the halls of the Admiralty building, each step reminded him of his last visit to these self same offices and his admission into the presence of Commodore Pelman.   He sighed, a lot had happened since then and a slight frown creased his brow at the thought.

 

Admiral James Barlow* looked up as the door opened and a tall man dressed in the naval uniform of Captain approached him.   They saluted one another formally and then Barlow stood up and extended his hand,

 

“Commodore Cartwright I understand?” he smiled and gestured towards a chair opposite, taken the papers that Adam had handed him, and waited until after Adam had seated himself before speaking again, “Congratulations on your promotion, Commodore.  I see your uniform is still - well - out of date.”

 

“With all due respect, Admiral, but it’s a uniform for which I hold a fondness. I wouldn’t like to exchange it for another just yet.”

 

Barlow frowned, looked up from reading the papers he had taken from the oil skin pouch Adam had given him, and let his eyes travel over the younger man facing him.  He saw a well set  up man, handsome and darkly tanned, black hair that rose from a high forehead, bright clear eyes that denoted intelligence, alertness and inscrutability as their smoky brown orbs stared back at him, the mouth was well formed and the chin, obstinate.  Well formed hands rested upon the other man’s knees, and long legs ended in feet shod in good leather boots.  All in all, Barlow recognised a man who knew what he wanted and not one to be deviated off course.

 

“I have to admit you have risen to your rank as Commodore very swiftly, but looking through your records, sir, I can well understand why.” he allowed the briefest of smiles to touch his lips, “The appointment was granted by the President himself for services rendered with regard to the Pelman/Metcalfe affair.”

 

“Admiral Barlow, I know many men who have served this country well, and for longer than myself.   I prefer to be Captain of my own ship, to be honest with you, sir, I find being a Commodore both a mouthful and too - hmm - incongruous for a man like myself.”

 

“Incongruous?”  Barlow murmured.

 

“I could think of other words” Adam smiled slowly, “I believe that I am to go to Tokyo and receive further orders there?”

 

“Yes, that is correct.  Do I send you as Commodore or Captain Cartwright?” Barlow smiled and the thought crossed his mind ‘Incongruous, indeed!’

 

“As I said before, I prefer being Captain of my own ship, sir.”

 

“The rank of Commodore can be retained here, Sir, until your return. I am sure that upon our next meeting you will feel that the rank will be far less incongruous by then.” he stood up, he passed various papers to Adam, who glanced down at them briefly, then extended his hand and shook Adam’s firmly, “I think you’re very wise, Captain.”

 

Adam said nothing, he gave the Admiral a brief smile and a nod of the head, saluted and turned to leave, the details of his command gripped firmly in his hand.

 

………………….

 

Julian Frobisher shook Adam’s hands warmly in both of his, all the while exclaiming how pleased he was to see him, asking after Ben and the boys, naming various friends he had known and all the while leading the younger man into his office, the door of which was gently closed firmly behind him.

 

“You’re looking very grand, Adam.   A Captain in the navy, well, Ben must be very proud of you?”

 

“I hope so, sir.”

 

“Sit down, sit down -” he gestured to a chair, quickly removed some files from it and then took a chair next to it, he shook his head, “It’s strange, such a co-incidence.”

 

“What is?” Adam smiled, straightening out long legs and running his fingers through his hair.

 

“Seeing you here.” Frobisher paused, then continued  “Only a few days ago a young woman was in here asking me to contact you to warn you that someone was out to kill you.”

 

“Really?” Adam raised his eyebrows, “How mysterious?  A young woman you say?”

 

“A pretty young woman, and obviously a victim of this man’s misconduct if her bruises were anything to go by.  An old enemy of yours, I think, Adam - Jeffrey Metcalfe.”

 

Adam nodded slowly, and then drew in his breath which he exhaled equally slowly,

 

“I know him.” he replied in the manner of tone familiar to him, “We passed him on the stage coach to Virginia City.  I’m under orders at present otherwise I would have gone after him, rather than risk him loose there and creating problems for my family, who have problems enough just now.”

 

“Is that why you are here?”

 

Adam nodded again, he drew from his pocket an envelope and handed it to the attorney,

 

“Julian, my family may need my help and I won’t be able to give it except via yourself.  Would you look over these instructions and, should the need arise, would you follow through on them?”

 

“I have every confidence in you, Adam, yes, of course I shall do.” he smiled now, and put the envelope on the desk, “How serious could this problem become _”

 

“I think we could lose the Pondorosa, and I’m hoping that it won’t result in my father or brothers coming to any harm, although considering the men involved, it is possible.”

 

“It must have been hard to leave them at a time like that -”

 

The fleeting expression on Adams face was answer enough. Frobisher nodded,

 

“I’m due time off from here, fact is, I’m really due for retirement.  I’ve a mind to go and see old friends again” he smiled and was pleased to see a lightening of the dark eyes in Adams face.

 

“This young woman you spoke about, what else did she have to say?”

 

“She mentioned about a young woman, a Mrs O’Brien -” he looked startled at the look on Adam’s face, “You know her?”

 

“I’ve been very concerned about her, she’s the wife of a dear friend who entrusted her safety to my family.  We lost contact with her when she arrived here.”

 

“Metcalfe got to her, but I do know where she is -”  Frobisher frowned, “My wife and I shall go and see her, perhaps she should come with us to Virginia City.”

 

Adam nodded, then rose to his feet,

 

“I’m sorry this is just a brief visit, Julian, and one that isn’t really just a social call, but I have to attend to my duties on board ship.” he extended his hand, “I can rely on you, can’t I?”

 

“Yes, son, you can do that, believe me.” and Julian enclosed his other hand over Adam’s by way of emphasis.

 

……………….

 

The ship stood in the harbour, shining in the sun of a fading day.  Although Adam’s heart sunk at seeing that it was not one of his dearly beloved clipper ships, but one of the ‘new fangled’ steam ships it was till beautiful to look at and as he mounted the gangplank in order to board it, he noted with some pride that her name was S.S. Boston.*

 

The crew greeted their new commanding officer by piping him aboard and the ships company were all present to salute him and take note of him.   He glanced over them all with a shrewd eye, a slight wry smile and returned their salute.  He was then taken to his cabin.

 

“So, that’s our new Captain.” one of the officers murmured to another, and they both raised their eyebrows questioningly.

 

“I heard tell he was the one responsible for getting rid of Pelman.”

 

“I read about it - didn’t realise this was the Officer involved though.” a downward grimace of the mouth, and a quick return to the ‘standing to attention’ stance.

 

In his cabin Adam watched as Jamieson stowed away his trunk and some other personal possessions.  There was a light tap on the door and a cabin boy entered, snapped a salute,

 

“I’m here to see if you want anything, sir?”

 

“What’s your name, boy?”

 

“Jonathan, sir.  Jonathan Masterton.”

 

“Some coffee then, and ask the officers to report to me immediately.”

 

Jonathan snapped another salute, glanced over at Jamieson, then scampered from the cabin.

 

“Well, Jamieson, and exactly what position will you hold here on board ship?”

 

Jamieson smiled slowly and shook his head,

 

“I shan’t be coming with you, sir.  I have duties elsewhere.”

 

“To do with Metcalfe?”

 

“No, to be honest, Mr Metcalfe isn’t my concern.  My duty was to make sure you got on board the Boston, and now that you are here, sir, I have to take my leave.” he extended his hand which Adam took in his, and shook warmly.  “I hope all goes well for you on this trip, sir, and that you find Captain O’Brien safe and well.”

 

“Thank you, Jamieson, take care of yourself.”

 

Jamieson smiled, frowned and said slowly,

 

“When the time comes, sir, don’t turn down your promotion again, will you?  If anyone deserves it, in my opinion, you most certainly do.”

 

“In your opinion, Jamieson -” he smiled, his brown eyes smouldered with something akin to amusement, and he shook the mans hand once again before releasing it, and watching Jamieson leave the cabin.

 

Chapter 18

 

Metcalfe arrived in Virginia City as the heavens opened and the rain fell in cascades, making the hard packed roads vast puddles of muddy water within minutes.  Scowling at the thought that his prey may well have left the town already, Metcalfe splashed his way to the nearest hotel, arriving wet, dishevelled and irritated.   Having arrived thus he then found himself having to wait as other passengers in an equal state of disarray crowded into the foyer and demanded attention.

 

Eventually he was given some attention, snatched the key to his room from the clerk and turned towards the stairs, then paused,

 

“Do you know the Cartwrights from the Ponderosa?”

 

“Everyone does, sir.”

 

“Adam Cartwright?”

 

“Yes, sir.”  the clerk smiled amicably and without lifting his eyes from the register began to carefully blot the last written name, Ralph Forster.

 

“I take it he’s still in the area? Not gone on one of his jaunts again?” he gave a rather sneering grimace as he spoke but the clerk did not notice as he was about to turn his attention to another guest.

 

“I’m not sure, sir.” he smiled, looked up, “Enjoy your day, sir.”

 

…………..

 

A new day dawned, and a watery sun peered down from the heavens upon a rain drenched town.  Metcalfe leaned against the window frame of his window and watched as the population awoke and began their day.  Children ran to school yelling and shouting, skipping between the puddles, splashing in among some;  harassed housewives went too and fro into the various stores; saloon girls lounged around the balconies outside their rooms in flimsy negligee’s laughing and chattering among themselves; cowboys rode by on prancing horses and the business men, the wealthy ones of the town, drove through the melee in the carriages and barouches as though they were in one of the major cities in Europe.

 

Metcalfe watched them all with contempt.  After some time he drew bored with the exercise and decided that it would be better for him, should he not locate Adam Cartwright that day, to return to San Francisco.  He breakfasted in the restaurant, a solitary meal, the reply to his question regarding Adam’s presence or absence was always the same, no one seemed to know for sure.

 

He walked aimlessly down the main street without paying any heed to where his feet were taking him, his hands clasped behind his back and his chin down on his chest with his eyes downcast on the ground.  He was in mid-stride when he felt the thud in his shoulder, he half turned, raised a hand in an attempt to defend himself, but was too late.  More blows rained upon him, he felt his legs weaken beneath him, and then suddenly there was mud washing over his face, getting in his nostrils and mouth, his body was feeling heavy and no longer receptive to pain.   A face loomed large in front of his eyes, and he was aware of a furtive glance, a pinched mouth, and hands roving around his body, and then there was just darkness as he slipped into the void of unconsciousness.

 

………………………

 

Adam Cartwright stood on the bridge of his ship with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes fixed to the horizon.   S.S Boston was leaving San Francisco harbour, and he watched the city slip away before him with feelings of resentment and anxiety gnawing within him. 

 

He had gone over the plans of the ship, and had been taken on a tour of it, such a thorough tour that he could go from one end to the other without fear of getting lost.  Smoke belched from the chimneys and he resented the black clouds that filtered their way skywards, resented them for the fact that these self same clouds sullied the air they breathed.   He hated the smell of the metal, the oil and grease, the burning fuel that kept the engines turning.  There was no longer the snap of the sails above him, the beauty of the wind billowing in the sheets, the carvings and mouldings lovingly formed by skilled carpenters who loved their trade, and consequently loved their ships.  Grace and beauty, elegance and poetry in motion was gone for the sake of speed, and he wished that his officers wouldn’t eulogize so much about a vessel that to him was nothing more than an enlarged tin can.

 

The coast line was fading from view, he could see the men on board attending to their duties.  He glanced at his first officer who stood by his side with a self satisfied look on his face, then he glanced at the helmsman who was staring fixedly ahead at the distant horizon that was beckoning them towards Tokyo.  

 

He inhaled deeply, there was nothing more he could do now for his family, he had to accept his own impotence in the matter now and hope to God that he had done sufficiently should they need his help.  He turned his back upon San Francisco and turned to face the sea .

 

………………….

 

Joe and Hoss Cartwright kept their heads down, not even daring to raise their eyes to glance at one another as they listened to the sounds of their father who was opening the mail.  There had been a large bulk of letters and mostly addressed to Ben.  So far each one he had ripped open had been greeted with a Humph, and a ’What!  Not possible - by thunder - ’ and so forth.   Joe sighed and shook his head, and began to break his bread into small fragments on his plate.  Any moment now and his father was about to erupt.

 

In the room above Victoria Shannon carefully and gently bathed her fathers’ face and hands, attempted to get some water through his dry lips, and then sat by his side with a book in her lap to read.   For some reason best known to himself, Shannon refused to die.

 

“I don’t understand this -” Ben stormed into the dining room area and glanced wildly at his two sons, with both hands full of papers, letters, invoices, dockets. “I don’t understand this at all.”

 

“What exactly don’t you understand ,Pa?” Hoss asked mildly, glancing now at Joe who refused to look up.

 

“Letters and demands for payment for just about everything over the past six months.”

 

“You’ve not paid any bills for six months?” Hoss queried, looking so surprised that some ham fell off the ends of his fork and he didn’t even notice.

 

“Are you sure, Pa?”  Joe stood up, and looked at his father anxiously, “There has to be some mistake.”

 

“I should say so, and I’m going to go right into town to find out what mistake it is, and who made it.”  Ben growled, “Practically everybody we could possibly owe money to is claiming payment, it’s as though they’ve all gone mad and decided to -” he paused and shook his head, “But I know the bills have been paid, everythings been paid, the money isn’t in the bank because -” again he paused and turned around, raised his eyes to the ceiling, not in prayer to God but in recalling to mind that his lawyer lay there in the room above,  “surely he couldn’t have done that?”

 

“Done what, Pa?”

 

“Taken the money and not paid any of our creditors!”

 

Joe said nothing to that but seized hold of some of the letters and papers on the desk and quickly glanced through them, he whistled softly between his teeth before passing some of them to Hoss and picking up a few more.  Then he looked up at his father and the colour had drained from his face,

 

“Pa, these aren’t just demands for our usual quarterly bills, some of these demands are for payment in full!”

 

“Yeah, and look at this one, Blenkinsop’s demanding payment for stuff we’ve ordered that ain’t even been delivered yet, on top of what’s already owed him.”

 

“This is all crazy, Pa.  Some of these payments amount to thousands of dollars!” Joe exclaimed in despair.

 

“Something’s gone crazy alright, and I know it’s not me.” Ben replied tight lipped and staring down at the bill in his hand, “This is from Jake Muldoon cancelling his contract, which, of course, he is in his rights to do, but there’s no explanation as to why.”

 

“We’ve already started work on getting the timber prepared for him, Pa.” Hoss said quietly, “That means we’ll be carrying a loss of some hundreds of dollars.”

 

“There’s another one here, Pa” Joe held up a letter, “Philip Schneider - cancelling his contract and asking us to collect what we’ve done.  That’s going to cost -”

 

There came a heavy knock on the door and Ben shook his head, raised his eyebrows and muttered under his breath about probably finding a queue of creditors lined up in the yard demanding their money.   He swung the door open to reveal Roy Coffee standing on the porch with a baffled expression on  his face,

 

“Ben, jest hadda come and see what’s going on around here.” Roy’s face looked familiar, friendly and Ben felt a surge and an uplift within him at the sight of the old lawman who stepped into the house, swept off his hat and glared around the room at Hoss and Joe, “What’s all this talk in town about you shooting Shannon and gitting yourselves bankrupt?”

 

“Bankrupt?” Joe and Hoss cried, and Joe added, “Who said we were bankrupt?”

 

“Yeah, and Pa didn’t shoot Mr Shannon either,” Hoss declared.

 

“Hmph, except right now I’d like to -” Ben growled beneath his breath, as he stepped to one side to close the door behind their visitor.

 

Roy flipped his hat onto the bureau and scowled at the three men in his usual amicable manner,

 

“Guess you’d best tell me what’s going on around here. Blast it, I ain’t bin able to enjoy one day of my retirement due to all the grumbling I’ve heard about young Thompson. I thought he was gonna be a decent kind of lawman but -” he shook his head and sat down, then surveyed the papers in Ben’s hand and some that had fallen onto the floor like giant

pieces of confetti, “Have I  come at the wrong moment?” he asked innocently.

 

Chapter 19

 

Colours merged and twirled above his head, splitting apart and joining back together again.   Shepherds courted shepherdesses, cherubs bounced on fleecy clouds, pink and blue ribbons floated among red and pink roses.  He closed his eyes again and involuntarily a groan slipped past his lips.

 

He had long ago thought that upon his passing he would float off to heaven, and had never thought that he could be consigned elsewhere.  He forced open his eyes once again and concentrated on the view above him.   Common sense told him that he was in a room, probably what a woman would refer to as her boudoir. He released a shuddering sigh and struggled to remember what had happened to bring him to this particular fate.

 

“He’s recovering -” someone said, a man with a deep voice, “probably concussion.”

 

“Will he be alright?” a woman’s voice now, gentle, kindly with a slight accent that he could not quite make out.

 

“I’ll need to make a more thorough examination, Dorothea.”

 

He opened his eyes and looked away from the gaudy ceiling to the two people in the room.  A woman, tall, attractive and looking anxiously at the man standing opposite her.  They were standing by the window, she was leaning forwards to hear what was being said, to pay more than the usual attention as a glass phial was passed into her hand.  The man was broad shouldered, well built, grey haired and elderly, there was the stoop around the shoulders that implied that he carried the weight of the worlds’ problems upon them, well, those of this town at least.

 

“Where am I?”

 

They both turned to look at him and then approached the bed.  Both pairs of eyes looked down at him with gentle kindly concern.  He assumed, correctly, that the matter was serious.

 

“I’m afraid you’ve been attacked and badly injured, sir.” the man spoke thoughtfully, peering into his face, leaning in more closely than he would have liked but obviously for some medical reason.  “Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”

 

Stupid question the man on the bed thought and peered at the digits, narrowed his eyes,

 

“Four.”

 

“And now?”

 

“Two.”

 

“Mmm, can you tell me your name?”

 

Now that was difficult.  He scrambled in his brain for the name.  He had written something down recently but couldn’t recall what it was, he frowned, so many names slipped into his mind.  He grabbed at one,

 

“Hugh Williamson.”

 

“Mmm, well, Mr Williamson, I’m afraid you’ve been a victim to one of our more violent members of society.  They’ve not treated you very kindly and robbed you of your possessions.   Can you remember where you live?”

 

“Not here.”

 

“Quite right, sir.” the man smiled, and behind him the woman smiled, “Your home address.”

 

“I - I live in San Francisco.” he paused, “San Francisco.” he said with a more definite tone of voice, “I’m visiting here.”

 

He was tired.  He wanted to close his eyes and drift back to sleep.  He heard the woman talking but made no sense of her words.

 

“Can he stay here a while longer, Dorothea?  I’ll call in later and see how he is getting on.  I’m afraid he’s lost a lot of blood and the injuries are severe, he could be here some while.”

 

“I understand, Dr Martin.  It’ll be alright by me, don’t worry about him.”

 

Paul Martin nodded, clicked shut the medical bag and sighed,

 

“Well, I had better get along to the Ponderosa and see how Mr Shannon is getting on.”

 

“Is it true what they’re saying in town, Dr Martin?  About the Cartwrights?”

 

“I wouldn’t pay any attention to rumours, my dear.” he picked up his hat but as he placed it upon his gray head he couldn’t avoid looking anything other than optimistic.

 

“Will you tell them, for what it’s worth, that they do have good friends here in town, we’ll do what we can to help.”

 

“Well, I’ll tell them, but they’re proud people -.”

 

Dorothea nodded, and closed the door behind her visitor.  The man on the bed heard the door click shut and drifted into a dream about a ship drifting in a black sea with snow falling and covering them with ice crystals so that it looked just like it had been dusted with sugar icing.

 

……………………..

 

The Cartwrights and their companion dismounted outside the First National Bank, and while Roy strode over to the sheriff’s office, Ben and his sons marched defiantly into the bank and demanded to see the Manager.

 

From his vantage point in his office McGarthy watched them with a smirk on his face, he jammed a cigar into his mouth and clamped down tightly upon it with his teeth.  He struck a match and narrowed his eyes against the flare of the flame - it was hard not to gloat, but he couldn’t help but do so.

 

……………………..

 

When the door of the sheriff’s office opened Matthew Thompson was about to pour some coffee into his cup, he turned, recognised Roy, and poured the scalding liquid everywhere but in the cup.  Roy took off his hat, and stood with his blue eyes fixed on the young man who looked as though he had just seen a ghost.

 

“What’s this nonsense about Ben Cartwright shooting down Caleb Shannon?”

 

“It ain’t nonsense.  I was almost on the spot when it happened.” Matthew declared vehemently, waving a scalded hand in the air as he spoke, “You ask any of my deputies, they were right there with me”

 

“I’m not interested in anything the deputies have to say right now, I’ll check up on their stories later.  I just want to hear exactly what happened from you … word for word. Exactly what happened, by gum.”

 

The sheriff sat down slowly, and scowled.  He hadn’t been too sure about taking on this job, but the desire to prove to Joseph Cartwright and to his mother in law that he could amount to something in this town had forced his hand.  He stared fixedly at Roy who was pulling back a chair and settling his bones into it,

 

“Well, ain’t’cha suddenly got nothing to say?” Roy snapped.

 

“I got plenty to say, and I don’t have to say it to you, you old goat.” Matthew cried, “You seem to forget that I’m the sheriff here, and you ain’t got no right bustin’ in here demanding to git me to divulge evidence.”

 

“I’ve every right.  As a citizen of this town I have every right to demand honest answers to my questions from any one who claims to be upholding the law -” Roy’s moustache bristled,  “particularly if’n I don’t reckon on it being done proper.   Now, you jest git off that high horse of your‘n and tell me what I want to know or I‘ll be asking more questions from some other folk that you might not be wanting me to speak to anyhow.”

 

“Are you implying that I ain’t doing my job right?”

 

“I know you ain’t, if what you claim happened - just spit it out, son, it might be a bit hard to do but it’ll go a whole lot better for you in the long run if’n you do.” he paused, “And the truth, mind.”

 

“The truth !” Matthew Thompson snorted contemptuously, “As if you’d know the truth if you saw it.  You’re so bamboozled by all those years being pals of the Cartwrights that you wouldn’t  believe the truth even if I told you it.”

 

“Well, I got all day to sit here and listen to what you have to tell me, and I’ll know if it’s the truth or not, son, believe you me!”

 

Thompson licked dry lips, he glanced at the coffee pot and then at Roy, who nodded in acceptance.  He rose to his feet, and poured out the coffee into two cups all the while trying to remember exactly what it was he had been told to say, and wondering if the truth wouldn’t be easier after all.

 

Chapter 20

 

The soul of the poet had succumbed to the curiosity of the engineer.  They had passed the Tropic of Cancer and were into the Pacific Ocean, from the bridge of S.S Boston Adam observed the smooth way the ship sliced through the waves and as they had borne him and the ship further from the shores of his homeland so he left behind the fears for his family and thought more of the plight of his friend, Daniel O’Brien. 

 

The waves of the sea were gentle and there was no breeze in the air.  It was so still that even the few clouds in the sky remained stationary.  But the ship maintained its course and Adam conceded that had he been in his favoured kind of vessel, then it would be going nowhere.  He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled faintly to himself remembering how he had decided to find out how the ‘tin can’ actually functioned, and had spent hours of each day examining the ship, watching the men at work, and wondering out a system on how some things could be perfected to become even more efficient.

 

But, most of all, he wondered about the whereabouts of Daniel O’Brien.   Time had not permitted for  him to seek out Daniels wife, and the facts given to him by Frobisher had indicated that it would have been a waste of his time anyway.   He fretted a little about Metcalfe’s whereabouts and wondered if the man could possibly be involved in this latest adventure, or whether it was just a case of time and unforeseen occurrence.

 

When time permitted he studied what he had been able to obtain about Japan, their culture and traditions.   He learned about the treaties that country had made with America, particularly the one negotiated by Commodore Perry on March 31, 1854,* in which Japan had agreed: 1. Peace and friendship between the United States and Japan. 2. Opening of two ports to American ships at Shimoda and Hakodate. 3. Help for any American ships wrecked on the Japanese coast and protection for shipwrecked persons. 4. Permission for American ships to buy supplies, coal, water, and other necessary provisions in Japanese ports.

 

His officers were efficient, proud of their ship, wary of his ignorance and a little disdainful it seemed (to him) of the fact that he had captained only clipper ships until this expedition.  He had done what was usual for him, he had listened, smiled, and learned more as a result.

 

As he stood on the bridge now he still pondered as to why he was taking this trip to Japan and what it had to do in connection with his friend, O’Brien, and the missing ’important personage’.

 

…………………….

 

 

The Bank Manager rose to his feet and shook Ben’s hand before sitting down and indicating that the 3 men do likewise on the other side of the big desk.  He sighed, and before Ben could speak tapped the stack of files on his desk,

 

“I know why you’re here, Ben.  I can’t tell you how sorry I am about all this -” he paused, “I was surprised to hear that you had amassed so much debt to be honest as I followed your directions in providing Caleb Shannon with sufficient funds for your bills to be paid directly through him.”

 

“That’s what I don’t understand, Mr Weems, why were you doing that?”

 

“What do you mean?” Weems looked amazed at Ben’s question and then glanced at Joe and Hoss who were staring at him with such a fixed look on their faces that he began to feel the way a worm would do at the end of a hook confronted by a fish.  He ferreted about in a file and produced a letter which he handed over to Ben, then he sat back and waited for the reaction.

 

“But -” Ben paused, read on a little and then raised his head, “this is incredible -”

 

“That is your signature on the letter, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes, I agree it is but -” Ben re-read it through, with Hoss and Joe peering over his shoulders to see what was written, in effect it was a letter giving Caleb Shannon Power of Attorney over all Bens money and assets in order to pay sundry bills, outgoings and other concerns necessary until the undersigned (Ben Cartwright) saw fit to change the arrangements which he would do in writing,  and here Ben paused and jabbed a finger at the date set down, “I never wrote or signed this letter.”

 

“You’ve just said that you had,” Weems reminded him.

 

“Yes, I know that, but I would never give anyone so much power over us.  For heavens sake, Weems, do you really know me so little that you could even think for a moment that I would actually give this much authority to ANYONE?”

 

“Then how is it that  your signature is on that letter?”

 

“How is it that you never approached me to ask me about it?”

 

Weems sat straighter in his chair and raised his chin, he nodded, he paused a moment before he answered,

 

“You’ve every right to ask that, and I accept that I was too trusting -” he bit his lip, “When I received the letter I went to Caleb and asked him about it.  As you can see from the date you and the boys were away from the Ponderosa at the time, and I knew that from the time Adam had been away at sea you had left me to carry out a lot of these kind of transactions on your behalf.  I was surprised - I can remember that - because I thought you were indicating a lack of trust in me, I took it personal.”  he frowned, and for a moment must have been reliving the occasion of his interview or altercation with Shannon, for his face was screwed up in concentration, “I was angry at the time and Caleb assured me that it was nothing personal, but as he had acted as  your lawyer for many years, and with you not knowing when Adam would be going to sea again, it had been agreed between you that all transactions would be dealt with by him in future.  The Power of Attorney was a means to an end -”

 

“It was that alright,” Hoss growled, “he’s been taking our money and making himself a nice little fortune.”

 

“But he must have known that he would be found out sooner or later,” Joe muttered, “I mean, what was he thinking of?”

 

“I’m not interested in what he was thinking of,” Ben growled, “I’m more concerned about the position this has left us in.  There’s talk in town that I’m bankrupt -”  he narrowed his eyes, “as a result I’ve lost contracts which would  have boosted our funds, and some businesses with whom I have an agreement to pay on a quarterly basis are now demanding payment in full.   Do I have any funds available to pay off some and keep the others off my back?”

 

Weems chewed on his bottom lip, and shook his head,

 

“I’ve been checking over the paperwork, and there just aren’t sufficient funds to pay off everyone. Some, perhaps -”

 

“Can’t you get the money out of Shannon’s account and put it back in our Pa’s account?” suggested Hoss rather naively.

 

Weems sighed,

 

“That wouldn’t be possible.  Apart from which I doubt if Mr Shannon would have the money there, he wasn’t building up a nest egg, Hoss, he was spending freely, gambling mostly.  I’m afraid, Ben, your money has -” he shrugged “gone.”

 

“Are you sure, absolutely sure?” Ben asked after a silence in which the ticking of the clock on the wall had never seemed so loud.

 

“I’ve checked through the accounts - if you want to go through them with me yourself, then please, feel free to do so.”

 

“Pa?  Is there anything we can do?” Joe asked seeing Ben looking rather adrift, as would any man who finds himself betrayed by a man he trusted and left without funds as a result.

 

“Yeah, Pa, just say the word -”

 

Ben raised his hand for silence, then looked wearily at Weems,

 

“You know that Shannon could be dying at this moment?”

 

“I heard,” Weems replied, and his Adam’s apple jerked nervously, “I don’t believe that you shot him though, Ben.”

 

“Hmm, people could well assume that this was the reason why I would -” Ben scowled, his dark brows beetling above his eyes.  He walked over to the window and stared out at the mountains, his mouth clamped tightly together, then he sighed deeply and turned “I want to go through all this paperwork with a fine tooth comb, even if it takes me all week.”

 

……………

 

Roy Coffee adjusted his spectacles and took his seat at the desk facing the sheriff.  He placed upon the desk several pieces of paper upon which were scrawled notes in his own hand writing, and signed by several different persons.  He jutted out his chin and narrowed his eyes, the light from a lamp shone and reflected from the glass in his spectacles.

 

“Now then, son, you just read through these here statements I got from several of your deputies and tell me if there be anything you want to change in your own.” he leaned back in the chair, and watched as Thompson picked up the papers and appeared to be reading through them,

 

“I don’t understand -” he said finally, “these statements ain’t accurate.”

 

“Well, they don’t all agree with what you said, that’s fer sure.” Roy raised his eyebrows and leaned forward, “Look, you just tell me what happened - the truth this time.  You see, one deputy says he never even saw Mr Shannon at all until they rode into the Cartwrights yard, but you say that you met Mr Shannon on the way to the Ponderosa and he asked you to keep close by because Ben Cartwright was out to cause trouble.   Now, I’ve worked with that thar young deputy and I trust what he sez.”

 

“Meaning you don’t trust me?” Thompson said bluntly.

 

“Meaning his statement don’t agree with your’n, and I tend to favour his.”  Roy picked up another piece of paper, “This statement is from Judd - he’s worked on and off with me in the past, a good man, easily led though.  He contradicts himself several times, but mostly he ain’t sure whether he heard one or two shots as they approached the Ponderosa.   Your statement said there was only one shot, the one that Ben fired - you say - at Caleb.”

 

“From the talk in town it turns out he had a good motive for wanting Caleb out of the way.” Thompson stated and stood up, “What are you trying to do, old man., discredit my integrity?”

 

There was a pause as a deputy stepped into the office from the sidewalk, he nodded and smiled at Roy, and then looked at Thompson,

 

“Sheriff, that man they found beat up, they took him in at Miss Armstrongs place -”

 

“So?”

 

“Seems there’s something odd about him, he says his name is Hugh Williamson, but there ain’t be no one by that name signed in at any hotel.”

 

“Maybe he’s visiting friends or relatives?”

 

“Wal, maybe so, ain’t no one come forward claiming they’re missing a relative though -” the deputy scratched the back of his neck, “Another thing - someone signed into the International and not returned there, fit’s the description of this Williamson fella at Miss Armstrongs.”

 

Roy sucked his teeth and raised his eyebrows, he pulled the statements back and folded them into his pocket.  It was a nuisance getting interrupted like this, but, he mused, he had sure got Matthew Thompson rattled.

 

 

Chapter 21

 

In the cool of the evening of a day that seemed never ending, Joe left the house and walked with down cast heart into the yard.   He paused at the corral fence and leaned against the upper bar with his chin resting upon his folded arms.  He stared up at the stars and thought about what losing the Ponderosa was going to mean to him.  Seeing his father so distressed, his brother so silent, and afraid of his own fears, he found that his thoughts just went over and over the same paths, trod the same way, over and over.  He rubbed his face with one hand and shook his head in disbelief at his own anxieties,

 

“Joe?”

 

He jumped, startled at the thought that there was someone else outside, someone who may have seen him vulnerable and at odds with himself. He turned,

 

“Oh, Victoria.  I didn’t realise you were here.”

 

“I came out to talk to you.”

 

“Well, to be honest, I don’t really want to talk.” he paused, and looked at her, the daughter of the man who had brought about their ruin.

 

“To me or anyone in general?” she replied and stepped a little closer, “I suppose you really meant me, didn’t you?  Are you blaming me for what my father is supposed to have done?”

 

“There’s no suppose about it, Victoria,”  he said very quietly, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it.”

 

She twisted her fingers together for a moment before stepping closer,

 

“Joe, I’ve no illusions about my father,” her voice faltered as though she were caught up in a memory, then she continued “But he is dying.  I can’t help what my father may or may not have done, but I do appreciate that being here could be an embarrassment to you and your family.   Mr Canady came by today and told me about the talk in town, about you all being bankrupt -”

 

“We’re not bankrupt -” Joe said with the obstinacy of a child.

 

“I could arrange for a wagon to be fixed up so that Pa is comfortable, and then we’ll go back home to town.” she frowned slightly, “At least he can die in his own home.”

 

“We can’t expect you to do that,” Joe said between gritted teeth, “the man’s dying and that’s all there is to it.  Where he dies -”

 

“Doctor Martin gives him a few more days, and he’s heavily sedated so wouldn’t feel anything.  Another thing,” her voice became brisk, “I know where my father’s private papers are kept, I could look around and see if there is anything among them that may help you.”

 

“Even if it proves your father a thief?” Joe frowned, and looked at her in some surprise.

 

“Even if it proves my father an innocent man.” she responded.

 

There was silence for a few moments, and it occurred to Joe that this was the first time they had spoken together since she had arrived at the Ponderosa to care for her father.  Since that first occasion she had kept to the room in which her father lay, and never intruded upon them.  He felt a pang of guilt and reminded himself that this was a young woman caring for a dying man, her father, and he had shown no sympathy, no care.

 

“I’m sorry, Victoria, really sorry for the whole thing.  I swear my father didn’t shoot yours and -”

 

“I know,” she said and put her hand on the top bar of the fence, close to where he was leaning, “I know he wouldn’t do that, Joe, he’s too honourable.  I don’t think there are many who believe it either.” she looked around her now as the darkening shadows drew closer, “But I do think that I’d be more help to your family if I went home with my father tomorrow morning.  I’ve already got it arranged, I want to do it for you all, and for my father too.”

 

She turned then and walked quickly back to the house before he could raise any further objections.   It entered his mind as he watched her slim figure that Miss Shannon had grown into a very attractive young woman.

 

……………..

 

Jeffrey Metcalfe woke to a new day where the sun shone brightly through the window and splattered warm gold over the floor.  He took a deep breath and realised that he no longer felt any pain, whether that was because he was healing well or from the drugs he had been given he was not sure.  He propped himself up on his elbows and squinted slightly in order to get things into focus.  He didn’t dare to look up at the ceiling again, once had been more than sufficient.

 

“Mr Williamson?”

 

The doctor was looking down at him and momentarily Jeffrey’s mind went blank before remembering that he had given an old alias to him, he mustered up a weak smile

 

“I’m sorry to be a nuisance,” he muttered, “I - I think I should be getting back to my own rooms now.”

 

“I doubt if you’ll be able to manage that for a while, Mr Williamson.” Paul frowned, “The injuries you received are far too severe.   I can’t even give you an estimate of just how long you are going to be in this situation.”

 

Jeffrey frowned, glanced around him and felt panic flutter in his breast, he raised his eyes to the doctor,

 

“My belongings - have they been found?”

 

“I’m afraid not,” Paul replied, “I’m afraid that there’s a lot of petty theft going on at present, and -” he paused as the door opened and Peaches stepped into the room balancing a tray of food in her hands, “Ah, yes, this is what you need, Mr Williamson, some thing to nourish you and build up your strength.”

 

He hadn’t realised he was hungry, nor had he realised how weak and tired he was but the food smelt appetising, he leaned back against the pillows and watched as the woman busied herself in getting things set out for him to eat.

 

“I’m very grateful to you for your help, Madam.” he said quietly.

 

“You can call me - Dorothea” she said, and smiled.

 

He lay there supine, lethargic and continued to watch her while his mind trickled back in time.   He had not always been a vengeful person, why, he could remember when he first bore the name of Hugh Williamson, and the sense of pride he felt during the wearing of it, as he performed his duties as a doctor on the Ainola.   He frowned, those early days on board the ship had been pleasant ones, the only thing ruining his peace of mind, his sense of being needed and used for a good purpose, was that he had already sold his soul to the devil, that particular devil being Commodore Pelman and the instrument of torture he had used was his, Metcalfe’s, loyalty to the Confederacy.

 

When had he turned into this angry, vindictive person?    He closed his eyes and recalled a conversation he had held with Adam Cartwright when trying to explain what had gone wrong in his life - and as he had tried to recapture the words, and the feelings, he saw in his minds eye the attentive face of the younger man, stricken down, weak and ill, but listening patiently.

 

Had he hoped for mercy then when he had pleaded his cause to Adam?  Had he hoped that the good qualities in that man would strengthen him, absolve him, enable him to return to the person he once had been before Civil War had yawned open its mouth and swallowed him down into the pit of anger and despair? 

 

Someone was beside his bed, and it was the woman, Dorothea, who was smiling down at him, with anxious kindly brown eyes, Metcalfe found himself wishing he could turn back the clock, turn it back many, many years.

 

……………

 

Roy Coffee licked the blunt nib of his stubby pencil and laboriously scored through several lines of some writing.  His spectacles had wandered down his nose, and his moustache bristled as he pursed his lips in concentration.  He didn’t look up when the door opened and then closed with a bang.

 

“You here again, old man?  What do you want from me this time?” Matthew Thompson’s voice was level, dark, but simmering with anger.

 

“What I wanted from you before, young man.” Roy replied, “I want the truth.  You see, I got me some more statements -”

 

“Who from this time?”

 

“Several more men who rode out with you on that thar posse.”  Roy raised his very bushy eyebrows and peered at Thompson over the top of his glasses, “And other folk who wanted to come forward and make statements about the matter.”

 

“What various other folk?  There weren’t no other folk involved ‘cepting Shannon, us and Cartwright?”

 

“Folk tend to hear things, scraps of information about things they hear and things they see.  When they get to thinking about it they start putting things together - course, some things don‘t add up, but others start fitting neatly together - like, f’instance, this statement here -” he pulled one out of the pile, “says they saw you and Mr McGarthy in deep conversation over at the Albierno’s restaurant and that the name of Caleb Shannon was mentioned several times.  That may not mean much to a man with a clean conscience -” he glanced up at Thompson and frowned, “hmmm, now that’s interesting.” he muttered and drew a line through some writing on the paper.

 

“Get out of here,” Thompson leaned over his desk, “Get out of here before I forget my responsibility to uphold law and order around here and take a gun to ya, you meddling old fool.”

 

Roy got to his feet, slowly picked up his pieces of paper and his hat, and made his way to the door, he paused, turned and looked hard at Thompson before closing the door and stepping out into the main street.

 

Deputy Judd Barkus frowned and put his hands in his pockets while he considered the conversation he had just overheard.  He’d been cleaning out the cells when Roy had come in , but hadn’t bothered to draw attention to himself because he hadn’t wanted to get more involved with Roys questioning than he had, but now, he just got to thinking …

 

 

Chapter 22

 

Ben had woken in a sombre mood that morning.  The brilliance of the sun was clouded by the dark depression that hung over him as he stood at the window and stared out at the hills.   The fact that Caleb Shannon had so betrayed him rankled inside him, for Caleb had been a man he had, to some extent, trusted with everything.   If he hadn’t been warned by Adam to watch out for some collaboration between Shannon and McGarthy in this recent situation regarding the mining projects,  he would still have been trusting him as much as ever. 

 

He heaved a sigh and bowed his head, the thought of Adam brought back a myriad regrets, the largest of which was the fact that his eldest son was not there to assist them and work along with them to save the land they loved so much.  It was bad enough having the threat of the mining operations hanging over their heads, to even imagine the land around Lake Tahoe devastated - he put a hand to his brow and wiped away sweat.

 

He recalled only too well having signed some papers before they went away some time ago, but then he was always signing papers for one thing or another, that’s what one did when one trusted a legal representative like Shannon.  How had Shannon actually managed to do it? All that money?  He of all people would have known that the Cartwrights were not really wealthy, not in the strictest sense of the word.  They were land rich, cattle and timber, yes, they provided income and work but labour had to be paid for, and the mines still hadn’t really paid such high dividends as yet.  But what really hurt more than anything was the question as to why had he done it?  What had motivated him to rob his friends?   Was  Weems correct when he said it was simply to maintain his gambling habits and pay off those debts. 

 

………………..

 

Victoria Shannon reached the bottom of the stairs and paused to glance over at the rancher as he sat at the desk checking through the columns of figures and then checked them with other figures on some papers.  But this was no time for delay, she stepped forward and gave a slight cough, she had to cough again before he glanced up, his dark eyes surprised at seeing her standing there.

 

“Yes, Victoria?” he stood up, a memory filtered through his mind and he nodded, “Of course, you were going to -”

 

“There’s no need, sir, my father wants to see you.”

 

“To see me?” Ben’s voice was deep with surprise, “Is he recovering?” 

 

She merely shook her head, and looked as though she were unable to speak, so Ben hurriedly rose to his feet with the fear that Caleb would die before he could reach him,  and followed her up the stairs to their room.

 

Caleb Shannon was clearly dying, the colour of his flesh, the way it sagged in folds from his livid face, the trembling hands and that indefinable smell that preludes death made the event all too prevalent.  Ben faltered at the door and looked at Victoria, then together they stepped into the room and up to the bed.

 

“Ben?”

 

The trembling hands reached out towards him, grasped at the warm flesh of the rancher’s hands and held them so tightly that Ben actually winced,

 

“Ben - I’m sorry - not a good friend to you -”  the hoarse words were barely audible but both occupants in the room heard them adequately well, Ben glanced at Victoria who gave an imperceptible nod of the head.

 

“Caleb, you know I didn’t shoot you, don’t you?”

 

There was no answer, the man’s breathing was harsh and laboured, the eyes rolling in their sockets.

 

“Caleb, say something - I don’t want you to die before letting Victoria know I didn’t shoot you.”

 

“Is Victoria here?”

 

“Yes, I’m here, father.” she stepped closer to him, “I’ve been here all the time.”

 

“Forgive me, daughter. Forgive me.” a tear leaked from his eye, the heavy lids closed and the breathing became more shallow, “Ben, I know you were a good friend - I’m sorry - I - you didn’t shoot me - I told Thompson -”

 

“What did you tell Thompson?”

 

“Winnemucca - not good - Ben - McGarthy -”

 

“Yes, yes - what about McGarthy?”

 

There was a long slow release of breath, then nothing more.  Ben released the other mans grip on his hands and then turned to Victoria who was standing by the bed looking down at her father with a blank expression on her face.

 

“I’m sorry, my dear, you must -”

 

“It’s alright, Mr Cartwright, there’s no need for you to spend time being concerned about me.” she looked at the rancher and smiled gently, placed her hand upon his arm, “You don’t seem to realise, Mr Cartwright, that not all fathers are like you.” then she looked back down at the dead man and shook her head, “No, some men don’t even know how to be fathers.”

 

“That’s a sad thing to say,” Ben said softly.

 

“Yes, isn’t it?” she gave the slightest of shrugs, and raised her eyebrows “Even more sad is the fact that it’s true.”

 

She picked up the corner of the sheet and raised it carefully to cover Caleb Shannon’s face.  Then she looked at Ben and smiled slowly,

 

“I’ll make arrangements for him to be taken from the house.  Thank you so much for providing this room for us while - while -” she paused, unable to find the right word, then with a frown shook her head and walked to the door where she turned to look back at him, “I knew you hadn’t shot my father, but I’m glad he was able to confirm it, for your own peace of mind.” and then she left the room.

 

…………………….

 

McGarthy looked around him at the men seated in the high backed chairs around the highly polished table.  When he lowered his eyes he could see their reflections in the wood as clearly as though in a mirror.  It gave him some small satisfaction that he had these men dancing attendance upon him,

 

“I’ve just had it confirmed, gentlemen.   Ben Cartwright has had to take out a mortgage on the Ponderosa to cover his debts.  Imagine it -” he leaned forward “If he doesn’t pay the money due by the end of the month the Ponderosa goes up for sale.  We won’t have to worry about just mining pockets of land that Cartwright once owned, we’ll be able to take our pick at any time we wish.”

 

“That depends on whether or not he can pay the mortgage.” Murdoch said, “And if he can’t, whether we can -”

 

“Oh, he won’t be able to raise that money in so short a time period.  If he goes over the end of the month the interest will be exorbitant, he’ll never be able to buy the Ponderosa back.  As for us - I’m sure we’ll be able to muster  up the funds easily enough between us all.” he leaned back in his chair, and allowed his eyes to flick from one face to the other.  Not one man there looked quite as smug as he felt, and for some reason, that really irritated him.

 

…………………

*

The Mayor of Virginia City, Lewis R. Bradley, listened attentively to Roy Coffee, and read through the statements, glancing every so often up at the two deputies who stood behind the older man. 

 

“Very well, Roy, I agree entirely with you” he put down the papers and thought over what he had read, mulled over what the deputies had discussed with him and remembered the stoic integrity of Roy Coffee when he had been sheriff.  He now leaned forward towards them, “Roy, would you agree to being sworn in as sheriff and serving as such for another term?  I can’t think of a man I would rather have as sheriff right now.”

 

“But, Mr Bradley, I’ve been retired a while now and -”

 

“You chose to retire, Roy, there was no reason for you to do so except your own estimation of your own worth, which, in my opinion and the opinion of many others, was singularly wanting.”

 

“Does that mean I can go and arrest that young whipper snapper sitting in my office right now?”

 

“It does - once I’ve officially sworn you in that is -”

 

……………….

 

 

Matthew Thompson was browsing through some wanted posters when the door to the office opened.  He turned his head, saw Roy, and chose to ignore him, resuming his perusal of the posters instead.

 

“You might as well go home, old man, there ain’t nothing here  for you.” he sneered.

 

The door closed sharply, and again he turned his head to look at Roy and it was then he noticed the sheriff’s badge pinned on Roy’s vest, and behind Roy were Judd Barkus and Vinnie Tylor, both cradling rifles in their arms and looking at Thompson as though he were a lesser form of life.

 

“What’s going on here -” he rose to his feet slowly, his hand hovering towards his gun which was still on the desk where he had placed it only a short while earlier.

 

“Leave it right there, Thompson, and take that star off’n your shirt front.  You ain’t deserving to wear it any longer.”

 

“What right -”

 

“Every right.  Mayor Bradley just swore me in and my first duty as sheriff is to arrest you for the attempted murder of Caleb Shannon.”

 

“What do you mean … I didn’t murder anyone, or attempt to either for that matter…”

 

“You’ll have to tell your story to the circuit judge when he comes round in a few weeks time, Thompson, seeing as how you won’t tell me the truth about anything I jest plain gotta accept what folk tell me in their statements and act on them.  Mostly they point to you as being the one behind Shannon’s shooting.”  Roy moved further into the room, “Now, then, you know where the cells are, you jest go head towards them.”

 

“I tell you I didn’t do anything -” Thompson yelled in fury as the three men advanced towards him, “Judd, you were there, tell him, go on, tell him I didn’t do no shooting.”

 

Judd Barkus preferred to say nothing, he merely scowled and flexed his shoulders.

 

“I told you before, Thompson, I only want you to tell me the truth, and when all’s said and done, that’s always the best way.” Roy turned the key in the lock and paused a moment to look through the bars at his prisoner, “I’ll be waiting, when  you got something to say, that’s worth listening to, jest call.”

 

Chapter 23

 

News of Caleb Shannons death spread through the town like a prairie fire and by the time Victoria Shannon, accompanied by the Cartwrights arrived at the Undertakers, quite a small crowd had gathered to catch a morbid glimpse of the proceedings. Taking Victoria by the elbow Ben carefully led her through the crowd which parted to allow them admittance before closing in upon them once they had passed through the doors of Harpers building.  The undertaker’s closed wagon with its sombre contents had gone round to the back where Harper had his workshop and ‘Chapel of Rest’.

 

Joe and Hoss glanced at one another, dismounted from their horses and without a word made their way to the bank.   Both of them were nervous and rather fidgety, Joe nearly dropped his hat as he stepped into the Manager’s office.

 

“Take a seat, Joe, Hoss.” Weems indicated where they could sit before resuming his own well padded leather chair, he steepled his fingers together and looked at them both as they sat looking rather nervously at one another and then at him, “What can I do for you, gentlemen.”

 

“Wal, you see, sir, it’s like this -” Hoss licked his lips, his mouth was so dry he could have gulped down a gallon of beer as easy as winking, “What exactly is the situation with regard to Pa’s money. I mean I know you said he had to take out a mortgage to pay off them thar bills and such, but what does that leave him with?”

 

Weems raised his eyebrows and leaned back further into his chair,

 

“Hasn’t your father discussed this with you?”

 

“Er well,” Joe now took up the narrative, “You see, Mr Weems, there are some things that we prefer not to discuss with our dear Papa, especially when the guy who stole his money just died in the bedroom upstairs and - and so, you see, we wanted to know how we stand right now.”

 

“Right now?” Weems frowned, “Well, the bills have been paid till the end of the month. That’s all come out of what your father had in the account and from the mortgage.”

 

“That means -” Joe frowned, “That when the mortgage is due for payment Pa won’t have any money in his account to pay towards it?”

 

“Well, he’s hoping to get some contracts set up again and money paid in advance -”

 

“That won’t work,” Hoss frowned, “It won’t be enough, and there ain’t the time.”

 

“That’s what I thought, and no doubt something your father is considering at the moment.”

 

“Mr Weems, Hoss and I were talking about this, and we want to withdraw our money from our accounts and have that money available for the mortgage.  Could you do that for us?”

 

Weems bowed his head and rather regally rose from his chair to walk to some files, he picked up two and brought them back to the desk, sat down and opened them. It was fairly obvious to anyone that he had already looked through the accounts and knew every dime and nickel there.  He looked up,

 

“It won’t clear the mortgage, but it’ll go a long way towards payment.”

 

“How much exactly?” Hoss ventured to ask.

 

“About a third.”

 

“A third?” both men repeated and then looked at one another in dismay, “Is that all?” Joe murmured.

 

“It’s better than nothing,” came the somewhat cliché of a response as Weems closed the files, “Do you want me to transfer the money over?”

 

They nodded glumly, “That leaves us with two thirds of the money to find.” Joe sighed, “And not much time in which to do it.  What will happen if we can’t raise the money?”

 

“The bank will foreclose on the mortgage and the Ponderosa becomes the property of the First National Bank and its shareholders.  Or -” he paused, “it could become the property of anyone who can pay the mortgage off.”

 

…………..

 

Judd Barkus was the one who told Matthew Thompson that Caleb Shannon was dead.  He stood at some distance from the bars of the cell when he mentioned it, knowing how long Thompson’s arms were, and how quick his temper was, so he was somewhat surprised when Matthew merely groaned and buried his face in his hands,

 

“I didn’t kill him.” he protested in a mumble through his fingers, “I didn’t.  You go and tell that old fool out there I didn’t do it.”

 

“You shouldn’t talk about Roy in that way, Matthew, he’s a good sheriff and a good man.  You should have more respect.”

 

“I wish I were dead!” was the only response he got to that comment.

 

………….

 

“Dead?” Liam McGarthy looked at Peaches with a frown, and then turned away from her, “Then why doesn’t the sheriff arrest Ben Cartwright for his murder?”

 

“Hadn’t you heard, Liam, Matthew Thompson isn’t sheriff any longer, Mayor Bradley has sworn in Roy Coffee for another term in office.”

 

“Roy Coffee?” Liam shook his head, “He works hand in glove with the Cartwrights, he won’t arrest Ben, he’ll just poodle along and pretend it never happened. It’ll be brushed under the carpet like all those other things.”

 

“What other things?”  she walked slowly over to a mirror and adjusted a curl above her ear, and then another stray curl, while all the time her eyes were fixed on his reflection.

 

“Wal, you know, those other times when a Cartwright should have been locked up for murder.  What about - about that time Adam Cartwright shot down Ross Marquette, f’instance?”

 

“That was proven to be self defence, Liam, and remember Ross had just murdered his own wife.  Delphine died in Adam’s arms, remember?”

 

“How do you know that?  For all we know he could have murdered her too -”

 

“Oh Liam, you don’t mean that,” she turned and looked at him, a frown furrowing her brow, “What is this all about, really?  Can’t you tell me?” she walked slowly towards him, and put her arms around his neck, “You can trust me, you know that, don’t you?”

 

For a moment she thought he would trust her, and that whatever involvement he had in Caleb’s death would be revealed, but instead he put his hands on her arms and pushed her away,

 

“I don’t trust anyone, not any more.” he growled, “Just go away, Peaches, just go away and leave me alone.”

 

……………….

 

“Well, are you going to hang for someone else’s dirty work?”

 

Thompson looked up and saw Roy standing on the other side of the bars, the spectacles on his nose, the pale blue eyes looking kindly over at him and the gruff voice holding a note of sympathy.  He looked down rather than look at the homely figure any more, and shook his head,

 

“I didn’t kill him.”

 

“I know that,” Roy said, and cradled the mug of coffee between his hands, he looked down at it and his shaggy eye brows arched slightly, “But you connived at it, didn’t you?”

 

“If you knew I didn’t do it -”

 

“You’re an accomplice.  You’re where you should be now.  Mind you, it’ll go well with you if’n you speak up and tell me what you know.   Or would you rather I told you what I know, then you can fit in the missing pieces -” he jutted out his jaw, and the bristles of his moustache stuck out like those of an old walrus, “First off - you get to hear tell that Mr Shannon’s going to see Ben Cartwright with a view to visiting Winnemucca about the land at Papoose Peak, ain’t that right?” 

 

Thompson shook his head, whether in denial of the fact or not was not clear, but Roy merely continued with his dialogue.

 

“It was suggested that you followed Shannon to the Ponderosa and got someone to shoot him, not necessarily to kill him, just prevent him and Ben going to Winnemucca. Ain’t that right?”

 

“If you already know so much why ask me?”

 

“Because I want you to name the person who wanted to frame Ben, and who’s sitting back right now letting you take the rap for Shannon’s murder.” Roy paused to let the words sink into the other man’s brain, he pulled out a wad of papers and slowly sifted through them, wetting his thumb and going one by one through the pile, “Ah, here’s an interesting comment - ‘I recall that there were seven of us started off outa town just after Mr Shannon had left and we met up with him but only the sheriff talked to him.  I didn’t notice at the time but on thinking about it, when we got to the Ponderosa and there was a gun shot, I realised that we were missing a man.  There was another gun shot -”” Roy glanced up, “See there, ain’t that interesting, two gun shots just like Ben Cartwright said all along - “and then as we rode back to town with Mr Cartwright I realised that we were back to the seven men again.””  Roy slipped the papers back into his pocket.

 

Thompson shook his head, covered his face with his hands, and Roy calmly sipped some of his coffee,

 

“Now then, I find that a mighty interesting statement, don’t you?”

 

“Alright.” Thompson looked  up and slowly rose to his feet, “Look, I didn’t’ want to hurt the old man, but McGarthy wanted Cartwright out of the way, to stop him talking to Winnemucca.  He’s had good results on an assayers report about gold in Papoose Peak, and he wanted to get there but with Winnemucca involved he knew the investors wouldn’t touch it until there was a cast iron guarantee that the Paiutes wouldn’t get all riled up about it.”

 

“So what happened?”

 

“One of my men went ahead to the Ponderosa when I stopped to talk to Shannon, I tried to persuade him to turn back but the old fool wouldn’t - he wasn’t sure who he was more scared of, McGarthy or Cartwright.”

 

“So who exactly shot Shannon.”

 

“Tom Seidler.”  he sighed, “he’s one of McGarthy’s men, it was McGarthy who set it up.”

 

“But with your consent -” Roy murmured slowly, and without another word he walked back to his office, closing the door behind him.

 

…………………..

 

Julian Frobisher stood on the sidewalk outside the Internationale Hotel and pursed his lips. It had changed so much.  It had been a huddle of shanty buildings, lop sided tarpaulin draped saloons, and a few sturdy stores and  houses.  He shook  his head, what a difference in a few years, but even so it was still just a pale imitation of what had happened in San Francisco.

 

He signed the register and was about to put down his address when he noticed the name several lines above his own.  He froze, glanced at the address given alongside the name and felt his mouth run dry.  It was possible that there was some error, of course, but Miss Brooks had definitely said that Jeffrey Metcalfe was using a pseudonym and now … here it was, that very name in black ink on the register.

 

“Anything wrong, sir?”

 

“Is this gentleman still resident in the hotel?” he asked politely.

 

“Well, sort of - I mean, he booked in and the following day he disappeared.  Haven’t seen him since.”

 

“Do you know why he was here?”

 

“No, sir - very quiet gentleman in fact.  The only thing he mentioned, or rather, the only person he mentioned was Captain Cartwright, that’s Ben Cartwright’s eldest son, sir.”

 

So it was him, Frobisher thought as  he mounted the stairs to his room.  The man who had caused Mrs O’Brien so much distress and the other young woman a certain degree of heart ache.  He also knew enough about Jeffrey Metcalfe and his connection with the Pelman case that had involved Adam not so long back as it had been his firm of lawyers that had been hired to defend Adam in court..  But now as he approached his hotel room his mind went back to  Maria O’Brien, and as he put the key in the lock of the room, he was transported back to the day when he had watched an elderly nun do exactly the same to the room in which Maria slept.

 

He and Martha had been gentle with her, had talked to her and listened to what she had to say but in the end she had refused to leave the safe haven of the hospital and the nuns she now trusted.  They had had no choice but to leave her with them on the understanding that Martha Frobisher would visit every day in an attempt to build up some confidence between them and perhaps get her to return to their home.  That had left Julian to travel to Virginia City alone, and all the talk en route had been about Ben Cartwright’s impending bankruptcy and attempted murder of an important town personage.

 

It beggared belief, but confirmed all the fears that Adam Cartwright had conveyed  to the old family friend the day he had left America.

 

Chapter 24

 

  “ 35°27'N, 139°28'E.   helmsman”*

 

“Aye, sir.”

 

The quietness of the words fell softly in the afternoon sun, the sea was calm, the sky blue overhead.  On the bridge Adam watched as the helmsman adjusted his bearings and the great ship moved effortlessly on course.  He allowed himself a slight smile, and then turned to face the waters ahead.   He had learned a lot about his ship over the course of the past days, and one of the lessons was that of appreciation for its seaworthiness.  The crew worked well together, some of them having crewed for the Boston on other occasions, and all of them were respectful of their new Captain.  

 

Sometimes at night when he had woken during his sleep he had thought himself on the Ainola again, and waited for the familiar smell of wood, varnish, pitch to assail his nostrils, instead there were the mechanical smells, the oil and the coal, the smell of men confined to a small area, the clean fresh smells of sea and salt. 

 

Jonathan Masterton appeared at his elbow,

 

“Captain, cook says your meal is ready in your cabin, sir.”

 

“Thank you, Masterton.”

 

He didn’t look at the boy, his eyes were strained to focus on the dot of land ahead, birds were beginning to circle, a sure sign of land.  He nodded, they were on course, and all was well.  They had passed the Hawaiin Islands some days past, having no need to stop there for any reason their course had been forwards towards the islands of Japan.

 

In the Captain’s cabin the first officer, Lieutenant Myers waited along with Dr. James Royale, both of whom had been invited to join Adam for lunch.  Myers stood with his back to the door, looking out of the port hole and observing to the doctor that they had had a fairly smooth run of it since leaving ‘Frisco when Adam entered the room.

 

“I was saying to the doctor that we have had a smooth run from leaving ‘Frisco, sir.” Myers commented as Adam indicated that they should take their seats to eat,  “You’ve not really had the chance to see the Boston at her best, sir.”

 

“No, I suppose not,” Adam smiled, and waited for Collins to serve the soup.

 

Talk lapsed into commonplace subjects, the doctor observed that there had been very little in the way of sicknesses and injuries during the voyage much to his satisfaction, and Myers mentioned that the men had all worked well.  Adam sighed, finished his soup and hoped that when the main course came along the conversation would be more lively.

 

“Did you serve under Pelman, doctor?” Myers asked innocently enough and then paused, gulped and glanced up at Adam, “Er, you knew Commodore Pelman, I believe, sir?”

 

“Hmm, in a manner of speaking -” Adam nodded and glanced at the doctor who was looking embarrassed, “Did you serve under him then, Doctor?”

 

“Yes, when he was a first lieutenant many years ago.” James recalled and waited for Collins to remove his plate, “He was a good officer, and a fair man.”  he frowned, “I never thought he would deviate from anything other than that but it would seem I was wrong.”

 

“Ambition can spur us on to many a wrong course,” Adam said, regarding the mutton on his plate rather thoughtfully, “Mutton, Collins?”

 

“Yes, sir.  Cook’s own recipe -”

 

Adam nodded, smiled and commenced to regale his officers about a time when a sheep herder decided to bring sheep onto the Ponderosa, and why there was such antipathy  between the sheep herders and the ranchers on the western plains.  The meal slipped into laughter and pleasantries, and the mutton was eaten heartily, washed down with sufficient wine to help it along.

 

………………….

 

It had been the most miserable of weeks as Ben Cartwright struggled to get together the finances needed for payment of the mortgage.  Weems had attempted to cajole the President and Chairman of the bank to lengthen the time period in order to accommodate the rancher but they were not in the mood to be conciliatory, seeing it an opportunity to gain their pound of flesh from a man whom they both respected and feared.

 

Ben knew that the animosity went back as far as the time when he was put forward as a nominee for Governor of the foundling territory, and his stepping down from the race had, in some way, breached whatever friendship had existed between himself and the Banks founding family.   But that was in the past and his hopes of an extension to the loan period were sadly dashed.

 

Julian Frobisher’s appearance in Virginia City had been a comforting presence.  He had stayed at the ranch for some days, carefully going through the papers and procedures in case Ben had missed out on anything.  Victoria Shannon had arrived the morning after her father’s funeral with not only the deeds and bond signed by Winnemucca but with an ample amount of money that she had found in her father’s safe.

 

“I can’t take this, my dear.” Ben had said sincerely as she placed the money in his hands, “You’ll need it yourself, for your future.”

 

“Please, Mr Cartwright. I would really be very grateful to you if you would take it.  Don’t you see that this money could well be yours anyway?  I can’t possibly keep it knowing that my father took it from you, how could you expect me to do so?   Please do take it.” and she pressed it firmly back into his hands.

 

Joe stood up and drew closer, he glanced from the girl to his father and when his father was about to hand the money back he put a hand on his arm,

 

“Pa, do as Victoria said, she’s right in what she says, she wouldn’t be able to keep it knowing it really was yours.”

 

She flashed him a rather tremulous smile, and nodded,

 

“Thank you, Joe, I knew you would understand.” she had turned then to Ben, stood on tip toe and kissed his cheek, “Thank you, Mr Cartwright.”

 

Julian Frobisher had suggested making a list of all those who had rallied around to provide gifts of money - on loan - for the Cartwrights to make up the mortgage.  That way, he said, should they not need their gifts, they can all be returned to those friends and neighbours who had no wish to see the Ponderosa sold to the highest bidder.

 

But now here was the day of reckoning.   Julian Frobisher had returned to town the previous day (and still had no idea where Jeffrey Metcalfe had disappeared to), while the Cartwrights sat out the hours to noon when they would go into town to pay what money they possessed towards the mortgage.  Each one knew that the sum available did not match with the sum required.

 

……………

 

“What’s going on here?” Ben looked around at the considerable number of men who lined the track into Virginia City.  He looked over at Candy Canady, who nudged his horse forwards to meet his employer, “What’s going on, Candy?”

 

“Well, it’s like this -”

 

“Cut to the point, son, what is this all about?”

 

Joe now moved Cochise forward and turned him towards his father, he glanced at Candy and nodded,

 

“We ain’t going to let anyone take the Ponderosa from us, Pa.  This is our land, we sweated blood over it, we’ve lost blood over it, Ma’s buried on it, and we don’t intend to let any little man who happens to own a bank take it.”

 

“That’s right, Pa.” Hoss now urged Chubb forward, “We’ve got our men all ready to fight anyone who comes by to take it from us.  A scrappy bit of paper don’t mean nothing.  We were prepared to fight to keep the miners off our land, and by heck, we’re prepared to fight the legal men off our land too.”

 

“Is that so?” Ben frowned, and looked at the men who were lined up resolute, stern of face, all armed with rifles, pistols.  He shook his head, “I’m grateful to you all, but -”

 

“No but’s, Pa.  The Ponderosa belongs to us, it ain’t going to be handed over to anyone else and that’s a fact.”  Hoss thrust out his jaw, looking like a belligerant bull dog.

 

“Mr Cartwright, Winnemucca’s riding down with a party of Paiute.  They don’t want anyone taking the land either.”  Candy murmured.

 

“What?  Are you mad?” Ben cried, “You’ll  have to go and stop him, I don’t want a war on my land just because -”

 

“Just because of some one wanting more money than we’ve got just now?” Joe added, “If we had a few more weeks we could have raised the full sum. You know that we could have done, Pa, and so do they - those faceless men who sit at their desks and rubber stamp everything and expect us to just do as we’re told.  Well, Cartwrights don’t get pushed around, we never have, and if they’re not prepared to wait those few weeks, then we’ll make them.”  his voice softened, “No one wants a war, Pa, we just want them to be reasonable.”

 

Ben looked over the assembly of men with an anxious eye, then he nodded, looked at his sons, at Candy, and with a jerk of the wrist turned Buck towards town.   As he rode forwards it sounded as though an army were riding behind him, he felt his heart surge with pride, even a jubilation that his men, and some neighbours, felt this strongly about the matter, but at the same time the logistics of it all, rang a death knoll in his brain.

 

……………

 

It was a strange feeling being in the big office with the big round table at which Mr Weems, Julian Frobisher, Howard Baxter and Ben, Joe and Hoss Cartwright were seated.

 

Howard Baxter was the lawyer representing the bank and he put forward the fact that despite a significant amount of money being placed on the table by the Cartwrights, it did not redeem the mortgage.  They fell short by several thousand dollars.

 

“Just a few measly dollars,” Joe jumped up like a jack rabbit, “For Pete’s sake, you’re going to sell us out for a few measly dollars?”  he thumped his fist on the table, “Well, why can’t you just wait a while so that we can raise that money, it’s not impossible.”

 

Ben grabbed at his sons arm and pulled him down, he looked at Hoss’ face and could see the big man struggling to control his emotions.  He himself had gone hot and cold, felt the sweat break out down his back, and the collar tighten around his throat, but he knew he had to be rational, calm, he licked his lips,

 

“Howard, isn’t there any way that an extension could be allowed us?”

 

“I’ve consulted our employers, Ben, they refuse to budge.  They said you signed the agreement for a fixed date.  If you don’t pay at a certain time, on a certain day, the Ponderosa goes up for sale to the highest bidder.”

 

“And,” Weems piped up, “we are already an hour past the time allocated.  I’m sorry, Ben, I know it must seem very unfair, especially as this loss is all due to a criminal act on the part of Shannon.  If we could have recovered the money from him in time, all the money I mean, then there would have been no problem.”

 

“We won’t give up the Ponderosa without a fight.” Hoss said quietly, in a very dignified manner, and he drew in his breath, and placed his clenched fists upon the table, “I swear, I’ll tear apart the first man who tries -”

 

“That’s enough, Hoss,” Ben placed a hand on his son’s arm, “That’s enough now.”

 

“Gentlemen,” Julian now stood up, he placed a leather briefcase on the table, “Ben -” he looked at his friend with a pale but resolute face, “this matter isn’t a case of fighting for rights with guns and fists anymore, it’s about lawyers and courts.” he looked at Weems and Howard Baxter, “I think these gentlemen have something to say to you, Ben.”

 

Weems went rather pale, and then blushed to the roots of his head, but Howard Baxter who had never liked the Cartwrights in any shape or form, was made of sterner stuff,  he stood up, and opened the briefcase and took from it some documents,

 

“We were made an offer yesterday, which has been accepted.  The Bank, being the owner of the Ponderosa from the hour of 1 p.m. on this date, has accepted the offer made -” he looked at the stricken faces of the three men, and nodded, “As Mr Frobisher said, Ben, this is the time for lawyers and courts, etcetera, and you have to get up very early in the morning to beat them.”  he hastily added his signature to a paper and handed it to Frobisher, who looked at it, nodded, and placed it with the other documents in the suitcase.

 

Ben went purple, he rose to his feet and clenched his fists and turned to Julian

 

“You knew about this deal?”

 

“Yes, Ben, I knew about it.  I knew that you could never meet the deadline, so I clinched the deal on behalf of my client.”

 

“YOUR Client?” Ben shouted. “YOUR Client!”  he grabbed at Julian’s shirt front, and pulled him closer so that their faces were only inches apart, “You tell your client that if he steps one foot on my land I’ll blast his head off.”

 

“Yeah, that goes for me too.” Joe muttered, feeling too stunned at the enormity of what was happening to be able to feel anything but shock.

 

Hoss had had to sit back down, his legs had gone weak.  The thought of life without the Ponderosa was like a newborn babe being thrown out into the snow during a blizzard.  Everything he loved - gone. The tears welled up in his eyes and overflowed.  Unashamed he put his hands to his face and wept.

 

In a very dignified manner Julian pulled himself free and straightened his shoulders.  He turned to face Weems and Howard Baxter who were attempting a rapid departure from the room,

 

“Gentlemen, would you please remain seated.  There is more to this matter than you realise.   Mr Cartwright, Ben -” he looked at Ben and drew in a deep breath, “I am sorry that I acted in a somewhat under handed manner towards you, there was nothing else I could do in order to save the Ponderosa for you.  You see, what Mr Weems and Mr Baxter have neglected to mention to you is that there was already another deal on the table, a consortium of mining organisations had the money and the papers ready for signing yesterday.   My buyer had to move in earlier to make sure they didn’t succeed in getting it.”

 

“I don’t understand -” Ben said as he slowly settled back onto his chair, “What are you getting at?”

 

“McGarthy and several others had already got the money ready to pay off the mortgage, to buy the Ponderosa from under your feet, Ben.   You would have come in here and gone through all this only to have found that you didn’t own the land anyway,  they already had it.”

 

“Instead your buyer has it - am I right?”

 

“That’s right,” Julian held up a hand to quell the reaction, he took out a piece of paper and put it on the table in front of Ben, “This is a receipt for the sum of -” he paused, “How much money have you in your pockets, Ben?”

 

“Wha- at?”

 

“How much money do you  have in your pockets?”

 

Ben fidgeted, muttered under his breath, and pulled out several dollars, some loose change which he put on the table.

 

“Mr Weems, please count the money.”

 

Weems swallowed hard, counted the money and it totalled $5 dollars, ten cents.  Julian wrote down the amount on the receipt and signed it, then handed it to Ben.  He then produced a document which he put on the table,

 

“If you would sign here, Ben, and if Mr Weems and Mr Baxter could sign below his name as witnesses please.”

 

It was like a pantomime.  Ben felt as though he were going through the actions in some kind of dream. He scrawled his name, watched Weems and Baxter add theirs, and then watched as Julian put the document in a large envelope, and placed it with the other papers in the suitcase.  This he locked.  He stood up.

 

“Ben, for the sum of $5 dollars and ten cents, you have bought back your Ponderosa. Congratulations.” and he smiled, extended his hand which Ben, rather confused, accepted.

 

“I don’t understand what’s happened.” Joe muttered and turned to Hoss, “Do you?”

 

Hoss shook his head, and looked at the other men in the room.  Weems and Baxter were looking red faced and talking fast together, Weems then turned and protested that what had happened wasn’t legal but Julian countered it with the fact that what they had intended to do the previous day hadn’t been legal either and the new owner had every right to dispose of his property as and when he wished for as much or as little as he wished. 

 

Ben remained seated, his chin resting on his chest, and his dark brows furrowed, once they were alone with Julian he asked the question Julian had been anticipating :

 

“Who was it, Julian?  Who was the owner of the Ponderosa for the past 24 hours?”

 

“I’m sorry, Ben, my client asked me not to reveal his name.” he extended his hand again, “No hard feelings, Ben?”

 

Ben smiled, whether he suspected who the buyer had been he never said, he just decided to bide his time and find out at a more appropriate time.

 

But the Ponderosa was safe - it was theirs - and all for the sum of $5 and 10 cents.

 

………

 

Daniel O’Brien leaned his head back against the wall, and closed his eyes.  The chain around his neck felt heavier than ever before, and those around his wrists had chaffed his flesh until they were bleeding.  He knew that he was better off than some who  had been incarcerated much longer than he or Hampton, but at the same time he couldn’t help but wonder if he had the stamina to last much longer. He tried to recall Maria’s face, to conjure up her beauty to refresh and restore his spirit, but it only shimmered for a moment like some transient mirage.  He could have wept …

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

The stagecoach may not have been the most comfortable way to travel now that the V&T railway *was installed, but Julian preferred it by choice.  He was about to put his foot on the step and enter the vehicle when he saw Ben approaching him and with a rather weary sigh, stepped back down again, and patiently waited for his old friend to catch him up.

 

“You weren’t going to leave without saying good bye, surely?” Ben smiled his warm generous smile and extended his hand which Julian took warmly in both of his own.

 

“I hadn’t intended to,” Julian replied watching with some trepidation as the driver throw his belongings into the back of the coach.

 

“I owe you a lot, Julian, I wanted to thank you as well.”

 

“Ah, well, that’s alright, Ben.  You’ve thanked me enough -” Julian nodded, looked at the stage coach and turned to enter it, but Ben plucked at his sleeve to detain him a while longer, he paused, waited.

 

“Julian, can we have a few minutes in private.”

 

Julian pursed his lips, it just had to happen, it was inevitable, he knew as sure as eggs were eggs that Ben would have to ask THE question … he nodded and stepped back against the wall of the depot, looked around him, and knew this was as private as it would ever get.  Ben leaned forward,

 

“I really have to know who the buyer was -”

 

“Why?  What difference does it make?”

 

“A lot of difference, Julian.”

 

“In what way?”

 

“Well,” Ben scratched his nose and folded his arms across his chest, “Well, I don’t like feeling obligated to anyone.   Now, if I don’t know who it is who - er - bought the Ponderosa and then very kindly gave it back -”

 

“Sold it back -”

 

“Yes, well, if you want to put it that way,” Ben tugged at his ear lobe. “I don’t want to live out the rest of my life knowing that there is someone out here to whom I owe so much.  It’ll drive me crazy.”

 

Julian nodded, he knew without doubt that Ben would not rest until he had found out for himself who had been the mysterious provider, he would scratch around and probably come up with the wrong answer and have to live with it for the rest of his life.  Julian tweaked Ben’s arm and drew him closer into the shadows of the building,

 

“Let’s think of a hypothetical situation -”he said, and looked at Ben

 

“Hypothetical?  Alright, hypothetical it is -”

 

“A man comes to me and tells me that he knows for sure that his family are going to get into dire difficulties very soon.  He knows for a fact that certain businessmen in his locality have their eye on some land and have every intention of getting it, by fair or foul means.  He has thought the matter over and felt that the only way he could help his family is by putting all his assets in one basket, so to speak, and to hand the basket over to a trusted friend so that should the family need financial assistance it would be there to bail them out.   To ensure that no one could claim the land back at any time he contrives a way of selling the land back to them …”

 

“I see. So this - hypothetical - person has sold all his assets?”

 

“Everything he has, shares in various businesses, mining propositions, engineering - and he has a large amount of money from his employers which he hadn’t dipped into for over - well - for a long time.  Plus other assets that we don’t need to mention as this is purely hypothetical, of course.”

 

“This hypothetical person sure has been busy?”

 

“Well, his friend was for some time.” Julian smiled, “This hypothetical person tends to sit back and observe people, as a result he is rather cynical and distrustful by nature - particularly of some rich fat businessmen in town.”

 

“Sounds like someone I know …” Ben smiled now.

 

“Ben - this is strictly hypothetical remember?”

 

“Of course, and no doubt, highly confidential?”

 

“Definitely.  Now, I must go, the coach is about to go without me.  Goodbye, Ben. Take care.”

 

“Thanks again, Julian, for all your hard work.”

 

 Frobisher leaned back against the seat of the stagecoach and sighed thoughtfully.  He wondered whether or not he had been wise to have told Ben as much as he had, even if he had disguised it a little in lawyer jargon.  Still, at the end of the day, he had done what he could to follow his client’s requests. 

 

As the stage rumbled out of the depot and he waved a last farewell to his friend from the window of the vehicle, Julian was reminded of Adam’s last words as he was about to leave his office all those weeks earlier:

 

“The thing is, Julian, when a man goes away to sea there is never any guarantee that he will return home, so shouldn’t he do all that he possibly can to use what assets he has to help his family?  Of course, there is also the thought that upon returning, he wants his home to still be there -.” and he had smiled, and the brown eyes had twinkled beneath the arched brows.

 

Chapter 26

 

The Boston entered into Edo Bay* with gentle ease.  Standing at the bridge Adam watched as the busy town drew closer with a curiosity based on many who encountered a new country for the first time.  He had spent evenings studying the culture and traditions of these people, and, with his customary inquisitive nature now thought over the facts he had learnt and allied them with the sights he now beheld.

 

He knew that Tokyo was known formerly as Edo, and that the first shogun Leyasu Tokugawa had st about building it into a fortified city in 1590.   It had grown powerful during the centuries despite being hidden away from the rest of the world until Commodore Perry had sailed off the coast of Edo.   Terrified citizens had thought the fleet of four ships billowing black smoke were floating volcanoes and fear had led to a mass exodus from the city.  With patient diplomacy Perry had negotiated a treaty with the Shogunite government and Japan woke up to the realisation that it had slept through the centuries and now needed to exert itself to catch up.

 

Events had moved swiftly as the Tokugawa regime had collapsed and Imperial rule was restored.  Edo was renamed Tokyo in 1868 and the Emperor moved from Kyoto, to the castle at Edo where he converted it into the new Imperial Palace.  Changes happened so swiftly that normal people began to regard the whole situation as miraculous.  A telegraph system was set up, brick buildings appeared among the wooden ones, banks and hotels, stores and restaurants were built, even universities were founded.  Paddle steamers sailed along the Samedi river.  As Adam’s ship hove into view he could look upon a city as modern as any other in the world at that time.

 

Adam watched patiently as his men worked to steer the ship into its allotted bay, ropes were cast down and tied securely to the bollards, finally the gangplank was placed into position.  Adjusting his jacket, and setting his hat carefully over his head Adam left the bridge with his papers and log book in the possession of his first officer who followed close behind him.   They were piped down, salutes were snappy and bespoke a crew happy to have reached shore and anticipating shore leave within the hour.  Together the two officers stepped into the waiting carriage.

 

Such a contrast of peoples - poor rubbing along in life with the rich, people in rags scurrying around pompous men and arrogant women in their flamboyant but beautiful garments. Geisha women teetered along the recently paved sidewalks on their strange platform shoes, glancing at the passing vehicle from slanted black painted eyes in their strangely white faces.  He wondered if his first officer was struggling to suppress his amazement and awe at the sights that now befell his eyes.

 

The United States Minister to Japan was John Armor Bingham,* appointed by President Lincoln as judge advocate of the Union Army with the rank of major in 1864; he became one of the judges later appointed as judge advocate at the trial of those who had conspired to kill Lincoln, and after a further remarkable career was appointed Minister to Japan.* With some slight unease Adam waited for the carriage to rock to a halt outside the American consulate Buildings where he was to be taken to Bingham’s office.  As they stepped to the main entrance hall an officer approached, saluted Adam, nodded at Myers, and took the log book and papers from the first officer, then he asked Adam to follow him. Myers was left to kick his heels in the entrance hall.

 

The big doors slammed shut behind Adam as he entered the office, and it seemed to him that the great man was somewhat diminished by the opulence of the room in which he resided, although not alone.  Several Officers of the fleet and Bingham’s personal secretary were also in attendance.  Adam followed the officer who had possession of his papers, and watched, curiously, as they were set down upon the desk. There was a brief whispered conversation, and then Bingham rose to his feet and stretched out his hand,

 

“Welcome to Tokyo, Captain Cartwright.” he smiled, and the smile was both in his eyes and his voice, his posture one of pleasure and genuine interest in the Officer now standing before him.

 

Adam smiled, saluted, and then shook the great man’s hand.  He was then introduced to the men already in the room.  Now, he thought to himself, now I shall find out exactly why I have had to come all this way …

 

 

Chapter 27

 

It seemed that within minutes of his entry into the study everyone but Bingham and Adam had left. Doors opened and closed slowly and silently, and suddenly they were alone facing one another across the vast rosewood desk. Bingham smiled and indicated a chair for Adam to sit in, then as he was about to resume his seat he paused and looked with narrowed eyes at the younger man,

 

“I’m curious, Captain,” he smiled and sat down, pulled his chair closer to the desk and picked up a pen, “I read in the lists that you had been promoted to Commodore and yet - you refused to accept the post?  That’s somewhat unusual, isn’t it?”

 

“I don’t know, sir.” Adam replied slowly, while part of his mind worked on the small matter of where to put his hat.

 

“Any particular reason why?”

 

“Perhaps -” he paused again now and looked at the old statesman, a man who had served under Jackson, Lincoln, survived the civil war, and could have been President himself had time been on his side.  “Perhaps I didn’t feel I deserved the post.”

 

“After what happened with Pelman?  Your trip to Alaska itself warranted  you some reward surely?”

 

“Sir, I’ve been on a retainer for over a year now, and done nothing to deserve a promotion.  May I be honest with you -” he looked again into the old man’s eyes and sighed, “I’m sure you will agree with me that President Grant is a fine man, charismatic would be the term for a man with such a gift of leadership as he possesses but -” he bit his bottom lip and frowned, the dark eyes hidden behind long lashed lids,

 

“But -?” Bingham murmured and leaned back in his chair.

 

“Well, even in Nevada we get to hear of things going on in Government, and the indications are that although President Grant is a fine man, it can’t be said that his Government is totally -er - above board.”

 

Bingham said nothing, frowned and then raised his eyebrows,

 

“Are you saying that you think the Government is corrupt?”

 

“Just that I would rather earn my promotion than be handed it on a silver platter, I don’t want anyone pointing a finger at me and accusing me of taking bribes or anything of that nature.” Adam frowned, “I’m not a politician, sir, I don’t know how to dress words up to make them sound anything different to what they are.”

 

“That’s fine by me, Captain, and I admire you for your frankness, which is quite a refreshing thing in this day and age.” Bingham sighed, “It makes me feel more confident that you are the right man for this problem after all.   You’re a good friend of Captain O’Briens, I believe?”

 

“Yes, I believe so.”

 

“Have you heard from him at all recently?”

 

“I had a letter from him, he had written it before he left America on The Baltimore.”

 

“Did he mention anything about the assignment he was on?”

 

Adam said nothing, he looked at Bingham and waited for the other man to speak.  Bingham also waited, and for a few moments on the ticking of a clock could be heard in the room.  Finally Bingham nodded,

 

“Obviously he mentioned something to you and you don’t wish to disclose it in case it causes problems for him, well, be that as it may -” Bingham frowned, “Captain O’Brien was assigned to bring the representative of the United States safely here to Tokyo.  Mr Hampton is a distant relative of the Presidents and was to have been acting in an Ambassadorial capacity here in Japan.  They set sail but never arrived.  Did Captain O’Brien indicate in his correspondence to you that he had any concerns about the journey?”

 

Adam paused, frowned again and slowly passed a hand over his mouth before answering,

 

“Do you know of a man called Jeffrey Metcalfe?”

 

Bingham looked at Adam now and then pulled some papers from a file, this he scanned before he paused, looked up at Adam once more and continued to read.  Then he finally put down the papers upon the desk,

 

“There’s mention of a Metcalfe here in connection with the Pelman fiasco. He was on board the Ainola, and was put on a boat with some Russians on your return from Alaska.  He may have borne you both a personal grudge but I hardly think that he would be involved in removing The Baltimore from the Pacific Ocean with an Ambassador on board.”

 

“O’Brien was concerned, Mr Bingham, that there was a threat of some sort, some danger in connection with the journey.  I - I didn’t realise that the whole ship and ship’s company had disappeared.”

 

“Totally disappeared.” Bingham said slowly and very significantly. 

 

“The reason - or rather - another reason why I suspected Metcalfe’s involvement is because of the efforts he has made to obtain O’Brien’s letter to me, even to the extent of kidnapping Mrs O’Brien.  Surely that couldn’t just be due to his animosity towards us?  He must still have contacts, people who would, perhaps, not want Hampton to reach Tokyo -” he stopped, seeing from Binghams face that he had struck on a sensitive spot, and once again the two men lapsed into silence.

 

“There were some who didn’t want Hampton here.   You’re right, there’s a lot of bribery and underhand dealing within the Grant administration, and Hampton wanted to get out of it, so Grant agreed to send him here.   It’s possible that those people could have worked along with Metcalfe, who has allies everywhere it seems … a wealthy man, clever in his own right …” his voice petered out and he sighed, picked u p some papers and handed them to Adam, “There’s a ship waiting for you in Yokohama bay.   I want  you to do everything possible to find Hampton, and O’Brien.  It would be a minor miracle if you succeeded in finding The Baltimore itself, but we’ll be content with the safe return of those two men. There’s no need to concern yourself with Metcalfe, we’ll deal with him from this end.”

 

“You’re a long way from Nevada, sir, which is where Mr Metcalfe was the last time he was seen.” Adam replied grimly as he folded the papers back into the envelope and slipped them into his pocket.  “He was riding into Virginia City as I left it …”

 

Bingham nodded thoughtfully, then rose to his feet ,

 

“We’ll deal with him and if he is involved in this business he’ll be dealt with severely.  I only hope that your mission is a success, Captain.  Those papers contain all the details that we possess in connection to the disappearance of The Baltimore.  I wish I could add more, but so far nothing has come to light”  he walked around the desk to stand beside the Captain, “I’ve arranged for you to stay in rooms here before you leave, there will be no need for you to return to The Boston as all your personal things have been brought here.  There’s a soiree this evening, a Japanese delegation - they love to hold parties for any reason whatsoever and it will give  you a glimpse of life here.”

 

“And when am I expected to leave?”

 

“The day after tomorrow.” Bingham placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, “I can’t guarantee you success on this task, young man, but Grant doesn’t call you a maverick for nothing … he has great trust in your abilities.”

 

Adam shrugged, sighed and shook his head,

 

“I don’t know why, sir, but -” he frowned, thought of Jamieson, of Metcalfe, and once again shook his head, “I can’t help but feel that you’ll get some answers if you can track Metcalfe down.”

 

“We’ll see,” Bingham replied, and after they had shaken hands he stepped aside to allow Adam to leave the room.

 

Chapter 28

 

The room was surprisingly light.  The sun beamed in through large windows that overlooked the bustling city with its variety of humans scurrying back and forth upon their daily routines in life.  He waited a while for the Officer to place the papers upon a desk, nodded in response to the snappy salute that he was given and then waited for the door to close upon him.

 

He stood very still for a moment or two, just to think over the interview he had just had and to review it in his mind.  Bingham had dismissed Metcalfe too glibly and had merely skimmed over the matter relating to the missing ship and its human cargo.  Adam closed his eyes and recaptured the features of the statesman in his minds eye, and then with a slight frown he reopened them to the dazzling light within his room.

 

The papers were there on the desk and this he now approached with little enthusiasm. He placed his hat on a chair and flicked casually through the papers with his thumb, running the pages slowly thus until in the end he stopped, straightened his back and returned to the window.

 

As he looked down upon the immaculate gardens his mind drifted back to collect memories, little snippets from the past that flicked by like so many playing cards and the hook in his  heart betrayed him, gave a little tug and there he was, back home by the fire, staring into its flames.  He was  young, he was going to college, and there was a child sobbing, clasping him by the leg and begging him to stay.  Flick and another card fell into place and he was standing on the steps of his college and looking to the future - a bright future if he stayed in Boston, he could become an architect or an engineer, he could become anything he wanted to be but … fickle destiny … that hook that was buried deep in his heart tugged and he was pulled back home.   Home with horses and cattle, the smell of Ponderosa Pine and Hop Sings baking, laughter and arguments, and Pa.   Fickle destiny luring him to sea, so much to learn and so much to do and all the time the hours and minutes of his life slipping through his fingers, and as he reached out for something tangible destiny had merely laughed and slid away from his grasp. 

 

He shook his head and remonstrated with himself.  Daydreaming would solve nothing, all it would do, he reminded himself, was weaken his resolve to fulfil this assignment.  But -the last card fell and he saw Barbara Scott with her husband, recently in town on a warm sunny day, a little girl skipping by her side and embarrassment on her face.  Adam shook his head and returned slowly to the desk and picked up the papers.

 

………………..

 

Dorothea glanced up from her reading to observe the man seated opposite her.  He was, she felt, something of an enigma.   She had heard talk of the man missing from the hotel, and the description certainly did fit her guest who was still occupying her boudoir.  She sighed, turned a page and observed the words thoughtfully.

 

“Mr Williamson,” she looked up at him, “I must say that you are looking far better in health now, Dr Martin said that he felt quite sure that you would be well enough to go about your business tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow? So soon?” Jeffrey looked startled, he had heard no mention of such a rapid recovery on his own behalf, and he shook his head, “I hadn’t realised -” he looked at her and saw the pink flush on her cheeks and nodded, “Of course, I should have realised long before now, my staying here is causing you some embarrassment, dear lady.”

 

“No, no,” Dorothea protested as she remembered certain events and persons in her life which had caused her much greater embarrassment, “No, please don’t think that, Mr Willamson.  It’s just that -”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Well, you see -” she paused, bit her bottom lip and sighed, there was little point in dissembling, if she wanted to know the truth of the matter she would have to ask, she cleared her throat delicately and plunged head on into a morass of words “A man disappeared from the hotel a while ago, a man of your description but not of  your name, he disappeared -” oh dear, she was repeating herself, and she glanced away to stare at the china dog on the mantle, “he disappeared, but the same day you appeared, here, injured as you were, with no proof of your identity on you or any money.”

 

“Oh, I see, you want me to pay for my treatment and bed?” he smiled coldly, and shrugged slightly, what more could he expect after all, she was but a woman.

 

“No, it isn’t even that.” Dorothea said firmly, “It’s just strange, that’s all.”

 

He looked at  her thoughtfully, before leaning forward towards her and catching her eye with his own he held her attention before speaking,

 

“There’s no mystery involved, my dear lady, I gave you a name when I was asked, a name that I once used for some while with great pride.  Being confused and unwell for some reason that was the first name that came to my mind and so I gave it even though it is not my real name.  Of course, as time passed I felt too awkward to confess at what I had done, but now, as you seem to feel that there are some concerns involved -” he shrugged and gave an embarrassed smile, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to cause  you any anxiety or worry.  Of course I shall return to the hotel tomorrow, even this very evening if you would prefer?” 

 

He was all affability and openness.   She shook her head in protest, and closed her book.

 

“Are you in some kind of trouble, Mr Williamson,” she asked gently, “Do you need some help?”

 

He leaned back in his chair and shook his head,

 

“No, I think -” he paused, and reconsidered her words.  Did he need help?  Or had he gone beyond the stage of being helped by anyone now?  He turned to look into the flames of the fire and rubbed  his chin thoughtfully, shook his head as though in perplexity at his situation and then he turned back to her, “No, thank you, I don’t need any help.  As you say, I am much better now, and shall leave here in the morning.”

 

………

 

Jeffrey Jamieson signed his name on the hotel register and picked up his bags which he carried himself to his room.    He closed the door behind him and walked to the window, and slowly lowered the blind.

 

………

 

Victoria Shannon paused in the very act of opening the gate to the house that had been her home for so long, she paused in order to watch the young man who was riding on a black and white horse down the main street with his hat lowered so that a shadow covered his face making it impossible for her to see his expression.  For a moment she wondered whether or not he had noticed her, but the house was at an angle to the main street and it was not easy for someone riding from  his direction to notice anyone standing where she was now.

 

With a slight shrug of the shoulders she pushed the gate open and walked slowly down the drive to the front door, at which she turned again to glance down the road in order to notice the rider of the black and white horse.  He had dismounted now and was obscured from her view by the horse itself.  She bowed her head in silent resignation and pushed the door open.

 

It was quiet without her father there, she had never noticed before how much his presence in the house had affected all her senses.   She felt almost like an intruder as she closed the door behind her and stepped into the large formal room in which they would have sat at one time as a family.   She untied her bonnet and set it down on the arm of the settee, then approached the mirror to observe her reflection.   Mrs Beiri popped her head around the door to see who had come in and then seeing Victoria standing there gave her a warm smile,

 

“I’ve made a cake -”

 

“Thank you, Mrs Beiri.”

 

“I’ll make you some tea -”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She didn’t want cake nor tea.  She felt restless and uncomfortable in the big house, and knowing what her father had done to the Cartwrights made her stomach churn over with despair every time she thought about it.  The shame, the terrible gnawing shame, knowing that her father had embezzled Ben’s money, placed the Cartwrights in a position that could have led to their losing the Ponderosa .

 

The knock on the door caused her to jump, but before she could move from her spot in front of the mirror Mrs Beiri had crossed the room and was pulling the door open.

 

“I just came to see Miss Victoria, ma’am”  Joe’s voice trickled through the hall to her ears, “If it’s at all convenient, of course.”

 

Victoria felt her cheeks burning more than ever as she turned to face the young man who was now entering the room his hat held in his hands and a smile on his face and truth be told that smile soon lit up in his eyes when he looked at her,

 

“Hi, Miss Victoria.  I mean, Miss Shannon.”

 

“Hello, Joe.   Do come in -” she paused, he was already in so that was the first faux pas, she wondered how many more she would manage before this meeting was over.

 

“I was in town and thought I should call by, make sure you were alright.  Pa was concerned about you after your father’s funeral and thought we should - er - keep an eye on you, and make sure -” he bowed his head and grimaced, “Well, make sure that you didn’t need anything.”

 

“Thank you, Joe, that was very kind.  Would you like -” she took a deep breath, “would you like to sit down and have some cake, Mrs Beiri has just made one.”

 

“Sure, wouldn’t mind at all,” Joe grinned and promptly took a seat, he glanced around the room while he balanced his hat on his knee, “Pretty room?”

 

“Yes, isn’t it.”

 

“I like the picture over there -” he pointed to a landscape painting on the wall opposite, “It’s a little like the Ponderosa.”

 

“Do you think so?”  she turned to look at it, frowned and then looked back at him, smiled, “Well, if you say so.”

 

“I know exactly whereabouts it is too,” his smile widened and the hazel eyes twinkled, “how about I show you someday?”

 

“Oh, well,” she glanced over at Mrs Beiri who had entered the room laden down with a tray laden down with tea things, the cake taking pride of place in its centre, “that would be lovely.  Thank you.” and she looked up at Joe, met his eyes and blushed.

 

…………….

 

Adam sat back in his chair and stretched his arms wide, before running his fingers through his hair.  He had read the papers and come to the conclusion that what they contained was really very little.   A lot of words and the sum total of them hardly anything at all.  He leaned his elbows on the desk top and steepled his fingers as he considered what little information he possessed about the whole affair, but he knew one thing and that was he had a full day in which to find out a whole lot more.

 

He rose to his feet and as he did so there was a light tap on the door, it was pushed open and a man entered the room.  Like many Japanese he was short in stature in comparison to the 6 ft tall Officer standing before him, and to whom he now bowed with customary Japanese courtesy.  He stepped to one side and allowed a woman to now enter the room, a woman with Adam’s dress uniform neatly pressed and ready to wear.

 

“Time soon for special party in honour of Captain.” she said in a voice that was very soothing to the ear, almost musical.  She smiled at him, bowed, and placed the uniform on a chair. “You dress?  I come later.  Take you to Mr Bingham.” she bowed again, her eyes lowered and bustled from the room.

 

 

Chapter 29

 

He had enjoyed the ‘entertainment’, the food and the interesting array of people who came and went, but at a time that would not be considered insulting to his hosts he made his excuses and made his way to his room.

 

The sounds of the evenings entertainment trickled into his room from a distance but he shut his mind to them and concentrated on the things he had gleaned from his casual conversations that evening.   What had he learned?   That Mr Hampton was not a dynamo in politics, had strode a neutral path during the war.  He was a Yale graduate in law and had attained some prominence in that field. He was not above 55 years of age and was a widower with two children, both married.   He was going to act in an Ambassadorial capacity so who would have been put out by such an appointment?  It occurred to him that perhaps Bingham, with all his statesmanship and experience, and much of it to be envied, would not have wanted to be deposed by a man who appeared rather a lukewarm character.

 

Mr Hampton then, rather than Daniel O’Brien, must be the key to this strange disappearance.  In that case would Metcalfe have been involved?   Bingham had indicated that Hampton was not a man to be corrupted, had disliked the way the Grant administration was riddled with underhand dealings (so much so that the press were referring to Grantism* to mean any thing from outright corruption to bribes and fraud).  So was someone in Government wanting him removed on a rather more permanent basis than just packing him off to Japan?  In which case it was rather hard on the ships crew who had suffered the same fate!   If one took it a step further, was there something taking place in the Bingham administration in Tokyo that someone did not want Hampton to discover?

 

Adam had finally fallen across his bed with too many unresolved questions reeling around in his head.  He fell asleep wondering what had happened to Jeffrey Metcalfe …

 

………….

 

“Come in.”

 

The door opened and Lieutenant Myers stepped into the room, saluted and then removed his cap, which he placed on the small table by the door. 

 

Adam was leaning over the desk looking at the map, he glanced at Myers and nodded to him, straightened his back folded his arms across his chest.  Myers glanced down at the map and then back up at his Captain,

 

“Well, sir, you were right, several ships did see the Baltimore when she was en route to Tokyo.  Of course one or two of them aren’t here at present, but I can give you some information about them …”

 

Adam nodded and together they resumed their observation of the map.  Adam traced the route of their own passage from San Francisco to Tokyo with his forefinger, it would have been the same route taken by the Baltimore weeks earlier. 

 

“An English freighter cut across the Baltimore here at mid day, a week after the Baltimore had left Frisco.” he pointed to the map and Adam marked it with an x.  “I spoke to one of the officers there and he said the ship was going at a steady rate of knots.  There was nothing to indicate there were any problems on board and he was quite surprised to learn that she hadn’t berthed here.  There was also a Dutch cruiser en route to ’Frisco who passed her at 10 in the evening on the 6^th.  There was a light rainfall apparently but they could see her clearly enough.  They’ve only just returned to Tokyo and had heard of the missing ship so he had looked up details on his log.  They passed her about here, sir.” and he pointed to another section of the map which Adam marked with an x.

 

“Did you ask about weather conditions … apart from this light rainfall had there been any storm at sea during that time?”

 

“None, sir.  Calm conditions throughout. I asked everyone about that, and also if they had seen any other ships other than the Baltimore.  The English and Dutch ships had passed one another, they’re regular on this route.   There were several Japanese ships at sea at that time but they aren’t here now, so I couldn’t get any information from them. They were going to San Francisco, Hawaii and Holland respectively.”

 

Time slipped away as Myers gave further details about the ships that had been at sea during the Baltimore’s last voyage.  Each one that had claimed to have seen her and had given co-ordinates was marked down on the map, the date and time neatly recorded alongside the x.  There were also several ships referred to that should have seen the Baltimore when they themselves had been traversing that area, but had seen no sign of her.  Their co-ordinates were marked down with a question mark.

 

Not all the ships were currently in Tokyo but it nevertheless painted a good picture of just how busy the shipping lines were between Japan’s largest port and other parts of the world.  An officer would mention seeing the Baltimore and then confirm seeing another ship, named such and such, and give date and time.  It went without saying that this ship would have seen the Baltimore,  and their names were written neatly down on the map.

 

In the end there was a clustering of names and crosses, dates and times.  Then there were the questions marks making their way to Yokohama bay.  The last sighting had been at 4 in the afternoon of the 10^th of the month by a French clipper en route to Hawaii.

 

A giggling Japanese woman entered the room with a tray of coffee and sweet things to eat, she made her customary bow and retreated.  It was Myers who poured out the coffee and brought the steaming beverage to the Captain who was staring down at the map as though demanding from it an answer.

 

“Well,” Adam said eventually, “somewhere from the last sighting -” he pointed to last little cross nearest to Yokohama bay, “and this ship which was closest to that area, and a mere six hours time difference - somewhere there is the solution to the problem.” he circled the area and then put the map carefully to one side while picking up another, this map was one that indicated the sandbanks, reefs, shoals, and other dangers that lay hidden beneath the sea and around the coastline of Japan and neighbouring islands in the Pacific.   After a brief glance at the first map Adam located the area for his search, then spread the map out more carefully across the desk, this he now studied very carefully before turning to Myers who had to step back quickly in order not to have been knocked over due to standing so closely behind Adam

 

“Can you see anything that I may have missed?” Adam asked with raised eyebrows, and Myers shook his head,

 

“Nothing, sir.”

 

Adam rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully before releasing his breath, then he shrugged,

 

“Well, there was no storm, no sudden tornado or other natural phenomenon to have sent them to the bottom of the sea, and there were no hidden rocks, reefs or such to have smashed in the hull …”

 

“Which means?”

 

“Which means that whatever happened on the Baltimore was the work of some man, or a group of  men, on board the ship when she left San Francisco.  Or - would she have stopped over at Hawaii?  I wonder …”

 

“She wasn’t scheduled to stop, sir.”

 

“No, she wasn’t but she may have been forced, or enticed, to do so.”  he strolled over to the table and poured himself some coffee, now cold, but he sat down with it in his hands and drank it anyway.  “I can’t think of any other solution unless -”  he paused, stretched out long legs and placed the cup very carefully  upon the tray, “some ship came from another location, but no, that wouldn’t make sense.”

 

“That would mean two ships disappearing instead of just one, sir.” Myers stated the obvious with a seriousness that nearly brought a smile to Adam’s face.

 

“Yes, so it would.” the Captain replied and rose to his feet to return once more to the desk and to gaze down at the map.  “Well, at least we know at what point we can begin our search, who knows, they may even come looking for us and spare us a lot of time looking for them.”

 

Myers said nothing but stared at the map until the different colours merged before his eyes.   He cleared his throat after a while to divert Adam’s attention from them, and then announced very cheerfully

 

“Oh by the way, sir, I thought I should let you know, but I swopped places with Lieutenant Greening.  He’s going back to ‘Frisco on the Boston, and I’ll be coming with you.  I hope that’s alright, sir?”

 

Adam regarded him steadily for a moment, smiled and nodded approval,

 

“Well done, sir, now that’s what I call showing initiative.”

 

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.” and Myers grinned, “I didn’t want to miss out on this, sir.”

 

“No, of course you didn’t, Myers” Adam replied drily, and returned to observe the maps with an inward smile.

 

 

Chapter 30

 

Dorothea watched her guest thoughtfully as he ate his breakfast.  He had always been a quiet man throughout his time there, and his disclosure about his name given to her the previous evening had rather unsettled her peace of mind.  Throughout the night she had lain awake wondering if his face were on any wanted posters in Roy Coffee’s office, or whether or not she should go to the sheriff and mention the fact to him.

 

Yet something had stopped her and caused her to continue as though nothing had been said at all, apart from the fact that today he was going to return to the hotel, collect his belongings and leave town.   She put down her cup rather noisily on the saucer and stared anxiously at the coffee pot as though the consideration of another cup of coffee was of prime importance, even though it was not that at all, the fact of the matter was that she had grown an affection for the man.

 

Of all the men in her life she had to fall for a man who was a complete mystery to her, a man about whom she would never know anything and who was about to ride out of her life.  She sighed and reached for the coffee pot.  He had reached out at the same time and their fingers touched.  Both withdrew immediately, as though some charge of electricity had surged through their arms, then they smiled at one another

 

“You first -” he offered and his eyes twinkled.

 

“Thank you.” she murmured, but kept her eyes downcast.

 

“Miss Dorothea, you don’t seem yourself today?  Is something troubling you?  Is it what I told you last evening?”

 

She put the coffee pot down with a slight thud, then nodded

 

“I was concerned to be honest.  It made me realise that I knew nothing of you and that -”

 

“-that I could be a murderer for all you knew?  And here you are, at my mercy?  All these days you have been so kindly caring for my welfare and I could be about to murder you and run off with your jewels? Is that it?”

 

She didn’t know what to say to that, but just looked at him before lowering her eyes and shaking her head.  Instinct told her that this was a man who would not be interested in knowing how she felt about him.   Let him think it was just mere idle curiosity and nothing else .

 

“Well, I was thinking it unfair of me to take advantage of your kindness like this … so if you have the time, and patience, perhaps you would hear me out?”

 

“Certainly, I have all the time in the world.” she said quietly and picked up her cup, sipped some coffee and replaced it very carefully.

 

“My real name is Jeffrey Metcalfe.  I’m a doctor by profession, and, to be honest with you I am a wealthy man due to investments overseas.” he paused and looked at her, saw the flush of crimson blush her cheek, “I served as a doctor during the Civil War - for what people would now say was the wrong side, although -” he frowned slightly and then sighed, “Well, that’s all part of history now, but the misery and horror of that time wrought upon so many haunted me.  It was futile, and murderous carnage.”

 

She nodded, her brother had died on a battlefield somewhere unknown and her father had returned home without his wits and died insane.  What Metcalfe said struck a sympathetic chord, and her feelings for him deepened as a result.  She had to hold tightly to the handle of her cup in order not to reach out a hand to take hold of his, and give it a little squeeze of sympathy.

 

“Well, the war ended and I was a disillusioned man.  I got involved with a society of ex-Confederates and we resolved to put matters right by fair means or foul.   I’m not even sure now whether or not I still feel the same way about it all but -” he sighed, “anyway, as a result I was fortunate enough to be on board the Ainola, captained by Adam Cartwright -”

 

“Oh?” her eyebrows shot up, and she cleared her throat noisily, “So you knew Adam?”

 

“Yes, I got to know him very intimately over the course of the voyage -” he smiled, recalling to mind the days he had spent caring for Adam after all the injuries he had sustained in Alaska, and what had resulted from that care, his lips tightened over his teeth, and he controlled the welling up of anger within him, “however, we parted company as I travelled through Russia for a little while which benefited me a great deal.  When I returned a few months ago I thought I would like to meet up with Adam again - hence my visit here.”

 

“What a sad story.  But why did you have to change your name?”

 

“I didn’t want to be associated with the man Jeffrey Metcalfe had become - the connection with the war -” he mumbled all humility and self chastisement, “A new name and a new future.” he smiled at her as though soliciting her compassion, and from the look on her face, he knew he had succeeded in that purpose.

 

“I am so sorry -” she murmured, “And then to have this accident.”

 

“Well, it gave me the opportunity to come to know you, Miss Dorothea, that’s one blessing, isn’t it?” he reached out a hand towards hers and rather tremulously, she reached out her own and clasped hold of his fingers.

 

“But Adam left Virginia City some weeks ago, all this time you have been so ill, you would not have known -”

 

“No, but then, that’s chance and unforeseen occurrence as the good book tells us.  Do you know where he has gone?”

 

“Why yes, he has travelled to Japan, to Tokyo of all places.” she smiled, “Its no secret -”

 

Metcalfe smiled wanly, no secret?  Well, it wasn’t now.

 

 

Chapter 31

 

It was mid morning when Metcalfe finally left the home of Peaches Armstrong.  He didn’t look back although he knew by instinct that she would be looking at him from the window.  He wasn’t interested in becoming involved with a woman of ‘her sort’, warm hearted and attractive as she was, he had no time for romantic attachments with women who would have reached a certain age and required commitment from him.  He frowned slightly as he made his way along the sidewalk and recalled that Sylvia would no doubt be wondering what had happened to him, and at the thought of her his mind wandered back over the weeks as he considered what may have taken place during his absence.

 

He had no doubt that Sylvia would still be there, waiting loyally for him to return.  He wondered if she had succeeded in inveigling Maria O’Brien away from the convent hospital or whether the wretched woman had remained there.  He despised women like Maria O’Brien, weak and vacillating, always whining and whinging  about something and no backbone to them whatsoever.  Sylvia on the other hand was made of sterner stuff, and did as she was told, perhaps with the help of the odd slap once or twice. He had no doubts whatsoever that she would be worried about his absence and a faint smile drifted about his lips at the thought of her.

 

He went first to the Telegraph Depot and asked if any mail had been forwarded for him.  There was none.  This puzzled him a little as he had expected some enquiry from Sylvia at least.  After a moments thought during which he tugged at his bottom lip and scowled at the clerk, he scrawled out a message to be sent forthwith to the woman at his home address, and then he sent a message to an associate of his in … Tokyo.

 

He paid for the cables and left the building with his thoughts on Adam Cartwright.  After all  his efforts to get hold of that letter and Adam Cartwright ended up going to Tokyo!  He shook his head slightly, if things had gone wrong with his plans perhaps Hampton and O’Brien were there too.  If only, if only, he could have got hold of those letters from O’Brien’s silly little wife.

 

He entered the hotel and walked up to the registrar who glanced up at him, frowned and did a slight double take, so while his mouth was still flapping open Metcalfe pulled some money from his pocket and slapped it down on the counter,

 

“You’ve my luggage here I believe?  My name’s Forster, I’ve been absent for a while but -”

 

“Yes, sir, of course, I remember now.  Your luggage is still in your room, Mr Forster.”

 

“This should cover the expense of the room.” he turned towards the stairs, and then paused as a man approached him, a man familiar to him but slightly different.  He frowned and waited in case he was mistaken and the man was not approaching him after all.

 

“Jeffrey Metcalfe?”

 

He paused in mid stride and then turned,

 

“Are you addressing me?  I’m sorry, but I’m Ralph Forster -” he frowned, he could see from the man’s expression that this was not believed, and behind the spectacles there was something in the man’s eyes that was very familiar, he sighed, “Yes, who wants to know?”

 

Jamieson said nothing, he stopped a few paces in front of Metcalfe and looked him up and down, then he nodded, as though to himself, and with a totally impassive air took out a badge which he held up in one hand, Metcalfe shook his head,

 

“You’re a Pinkerton?”

 

“That’s right.  You don’t remember me, do you, Metcalfe?  No, I didn’t think you did.  You were called Hugh Williamson at one time and not so long ago either -”

 

“You’re the orderly - whatsisname?” Metcalfe pursed his lips and raised his chin, as though being insulting would intimidate the more slightly built man, who appeared to be unarmed.  “Look, why not come to my room and discuss matters -”

 

“You’re under arrest, Metcalfe, for the kidnapping of Maria O’Brien, and for acting against the interests of the United States Government.  I’d advise you not to do anything stupid -”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Metcalfe said in a deeper tone of voice and half turned his back on Jamieson as though choosing to ignore him altogether, but from the corner of his eye he saw movement and knew instinctively that the way to the door was blocked by someone else.  He drew in his breath, long, jagged and harsh, “This is ridiculous -”

 

“If you would hand over any weapons on your person to the sheriff -” Jamieson indicated Roy who had entered the hotel and stood patiently waiting by the door.

 

“I have no weapons.” Metcalfe hissed, “What do you take me for?  I’ve been ill for the past few weeks, I don’t know what’s been going on -”

 

“You knew exactly what’s been going on , particularly at the time  you kidnapped Mrs O’Brien.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about -” he paused then, and glanced from one to the other of the two men as though in an attempt to think out his options, he licked his lips and shook his head, “It won’t do you any good arresting me, you know.  I’ve contacts who can make it very uncomfortable for you should you attempt to do so.”

 

Jamieson merely shrugged and glanced at Roy who put his hand firmly on Metcalfe’s arm,

 

“Come along, sir, don’t make trouble for yourself now.”

 

“Take your hand off me -” he cried, pulling his arm away from Roy’s grasp and taking several steps further towards the stairs, “I warn you, if you try to arrest me now you can say goodbye to any help I can give to Adam Cartwright.” he smiled at the look that crossed both mens faces, “Yes, I thought that would make  you think twice about the matter.  Let me assure you  both that if you don’t leave me alone you may as well get used to the idea of never seeing him alive again.” his eyes darted feverishly from one to another, “Now, just step away from the door and let me pass -”

 

Jamieson shook his head and stepped forward,

 

“Captain Cartwright knows the risks he has to take, Metcalfe, your threats don’t concern us or him.”

 

“That’s right,” Roy nodded, although his face still carried a careworn anxious look upon it, “Just come along with me, sir.”

 

From her bedroom window Dorothea watched as the man she had been prepared to give her heart to was led away from the hotel by Roy and a stranger in town, a man who looked nondescript and unnoticeable in a crowd.  She pulled back the lace curtain and watched the three men until they walked out of her view and then slowly dropped the curtain down again.

 

Chapter 32

 

The music drifted beautifully into the still quietness of the evening.  Standing at the taffrail on the upper deck Adam leaned forward and placed his hands upon the solid oak, and listened to the flautist as the music lifted and soared from below decks.  He recognised it as a piece by Handel, the flute sonata in G Major, opus 1-5.  He bowed his head in order to allow the music  to seep into his very being, on this their first evening of their assignment it seemed as though the piece of baroque music had been designed to meld together every man living and breathing on that ship. He remembered reading how Beethoven had  announced that   "Handel is the greatest composer who ever lived. I would bare my head and kneel at his grave.” * It was Adam’s opinion now as he listened to the music that had Beethoven been standing in his place he would have bowed his head and wept in homage.

 

There were no birds in the skies overhead, only the fewest of clouds and the sky still blue despite the hour.   There was a fresh breeze, just right for filling the few sails they had unreefed, and now he looked above him to watch as the puffed out sails brought to life the dignity of the ship.  A light smile touched his lips as he recalled Bingham saying “We know you prefer sail to steam, Captain, so I hope you won’t be disappointed in your ship.” and it had crossed Adam’s mind then, ‘I wonder how much else you know about me!’

 

But Bingham had been right, and Adam’s heart had danced a little when he had set eyes on his craft.  As elegant a ship that ever sailed, even compared to the Ainola, he had to admit that this craft was a beauty.  He could smell the wood too, even above the smell of salt water and ozone he could still smell the newness in her, the wood, the resin and unconsciously he ran his hand across the smooth wood of the taffrail, and then began to tap his hand in time to the music.   He turned slightly and viewed the lower decks, a few men stood about, some leaning against the taffrail and listening in thoughtful meditation  to the music, two men stood close together smoking their pipes, talking in low tones, an Officer paced the deck, it was obviously his watch, and the two men saluted him as he passed.  Adam watched as the officer paused, said something and one of the men laughed, pleasantly, relaxed.  The officer then paced on, glanced at the bridge and saw Adam, saluted and smiled.  

 

All the men were new to Adam.  The ships company had lined up and been introduced, and he had ran his eye over them and wondered if any had served with or under him in other ships, but there was no familiar face.  Myers was the only man he had known prior to casting off. 

 

He turned away now and resumed his meditation, looking down at the waters as the ship sliced through the waves, the soft slopping sounds against the ships hull, the creak of the masts as they bent  gently against the force of the wind in the sails, all added their own special melody to the music being wrought so well from the flautists fingers.

 

He ran over a few facts in his mind about this mission, and the main fact that stood out above all else was that he knew so little, that his mission was really a case of searching for that elusive needle in a haystack. He had only one plan, to hop, skip and jump the islands until someone mentioned they had had sight of The Baltimore and then they would follow that lead until it led to …well, to wherever it would lead.

 

He walked away from the taffrail now and walked behind the helmsman who murmured, ’All’s well, Captain.’ in a soft voice, perhaps not wanting to disturb the harmony of spirit that pervaded them all at that moment.  Had Shakespeare not said ’Music calms the savage breast?’ it had certainly wrought its magic over this company of men, and Adam smiled once more to himself, clasped his hands behind his back and made his way to his cabin.

 

……………….

 

In San Francisco several men were methodically turning Metcalfe’s home inside out and then tidying everything away again.  His safe had been cracked open and documents examined and some removed.  The servants answered a myriad questions, quaked in their shoes and enjoyed the excitement of it all … something to tell the children later as cook put it.  They were further thrilled when the valet was taken away in handcuffs having been recognised as an extremely unpleasant character given at times to murder when the fancy took him.

 

By late evening the men had completed their task and left Metcalfe’s home almost as they had found it.   Were he to return there he could assume that Sylvia, out of spite, had taken some papers as on the surface all looked as it should, but then the servants would have told him of what had happened and he, had he had time and opportunity, would have no doubt had the sense to leave as quickly as he could or live out the next few hours waiting for that inevitable knock on the door.

 

……………….

 

“Miss Armstrong?   What brings you here?” the deputy had risen from  his chair, and looked at Peaches in surprise as she entered the sheriff’s office with a tray, “I hope that’s some supper for me?” he smiled and winked, but she only shook her head.

 

“Look, Amos, I’ve been caring for your prisoner for the past few weeks and I don’t intend my patient to go neglected in your cells.  I thought I’d bring him something to eat, and his medication which  he forgot to take with him.” she smiled, her eyes wide and guileless.  Beneath her bodice her heart was pounding, and all she could think was what a mercy that Roy Coffee was not on duty now.

 

“Let me see -” Amos rose and walked to her, lifted the cover from the tray and admired the food laid out so daintily on a plate, “Very nice, Miss, I wish someone would plate up something like this for me once in a while.”

 

“You need to find yourself a wife,” she laughed, and stepped forward with the tray in both hands, then stopped as he stepped in front of her, “What now?”

 

“Just to ask, Miss, you ain’t brought no weapons nor such on you, have you?  Sorry, but I’ve orders not to let anyone in to see the prisoner without searching them and I can’t very well do that to a lady -” he licked his lips, what was running through his brain was more than obvious and Peaches felt a little giddy in case he did touch her, “so I’ll just have to take your word for it -.”

 

“I promise you, Amos, I’ve not brought a gun with me.  Only food and medicine.”

 

Amos nodded and stepped aside, he watched her as she walked into the cell block and followed her, his keys in his hand.

 

“Mr Metcalfe?”

 

He rose to his feet as she approached and smiled, a gentle, kindly smile, one of gratitude at seeing a friendly face, a smile that brought a warmth to her flesh and a light to her eyes.  Amos unlocked the cell door and stepped aside to let her put the tray on the bed in the cell.  Then he took her arm and ushered her out again, before locking the door.

 

“Can I have a few moments - just to talk?” she asked and Amos frowned, then nodded and returned to the outer office where he had a mug of coffee cooling.

 

Metcalfe watched him go, then glanced at the tray, before looking at the woman, he put out a hand and covered hers as she gripped hold of one of the bars,

 

“That was kindly of you, Dorothea.  Thank you.”

 

She swallowed a lump in her throat, and lowered her eyes, before lifting them to look once more into his face,

 

“It’s the least I could do.  Here’s your medication -” she said softly and with her free hand she withdrew a derringer from her pocket and passed it through the bars to him, “Be careful with it, there’s only enough for two doses.”

 

He smiled, his fingers tightened slightly around hers, before releasing them.  She turned away and without a backward glance hurried from the cell block, her cheeks red, and her heart beating so fast that she could barely breathe.  When Amos called out goodnight, she didn’t reply..

 

From his hotel window Jeffrey Jamieson had seen the woman go into the office with the tray.  He knew from Paul Martin that a woman called Armstrong had been caring for Metcalfe during the past few weeks, so he had not been surprised at seeing her taking food to him.  He watched as she came out of the building and paused at the hitching rail, leaned against it for a moment with her hand on her heart as though to still its beating.

 

Jamieson frowned, well, perhaps she had formed an attachment for the man, and seeing him in jail would have affected her.  He leaned forward a little so that his brow actually touched the glass, men like Metcalfe knew how to manipulate people, particularly women.  Like big fat spiders they spun their webs and entrapped the weak and willing into their cocoons of silken threads.  He watched as she straightened herself up, glanced up and down the road, and hurried back to her home.

 

A guilty up and down glance, the look of someone who had done something more than

deliver a tray of food to a prisoner - or was he being fanciful.   Jamieson shook his head, he had been trained to observe, and with good training one developed instincts.  A woman supplying food to a prisoner wouldn’t be in a state of near collapse afterwards, wouldn’t cast those nervous guilty looks about her.  A woman who had done something against their nature, something wrong - yes, a woman then would do such a thing. 

 

He reached out for his gun belt and quickly buckled it around him.

 

…………..

 

In San Francisco harbour the body of a young woman was pulled from the water.  She had been a pretty girl once with an abundance of soft silky blonde hair. Her clothes clung to her body like a second skin, and sand glittered upon her like star dust.   The man who had found her gently moved the strands of sodden hair from her face, and shook his head …  she had been young, someone’s daughter, someone’s lover … and now something not very pleasant to look upon.

 

Sylvia Brooks had not left the Metcalfe home quickly enough, and had not appreciated just how long an arm he had, for it had reached out, plucked her from safety and cast her down.

 

Chapter 33

 

Dorothea Peaches Armstrong closed her door behind her and then quickly locked it.  For some reason her knees felt weak and she felt as though her legs would no longer support her body.  She sunk slowly down into a chair and put her face in her hands, realising that she was now shaking all over. 

 

True, she was generous with her favours, after all she was a very attractive woman and had that sensuality that made her so alluring to men, and true, there were far few women in the town and far too many men so she was doing what any sensible woman would do, or so it seemed to her. All the same, she had never in her life acted in a way that put her at odds with the law.

 

What if Roy were to walk into the sheriff’s office and Williamson or Metcalfe, whoever he was, shot him?  Why had she given in to that stupid impulse to help the man at risk of another person’s life and her - she shuddered now at the thought - her freedom.   She glanced at the door, what if after he escaped he were to come here, and ask her to go with him?  She shrunk in her chair and clutched at her throat - she thought she had loved him, all those days caring for him, but now, all she felt was fear.  But why?  Perhaps when he had taken the gun and removed his hand from hers she had instinctively seen the man behind the mask, seen something in his eyes, or his demeanour, and realised that she had been used, duped.  And so skilfully done that she had not realised just what a foolish and dangerous risk she had undertaken for him.

 

Now she approached the door again and thrust the bolts across as though the lock was insufficient to keep out the monster.  For a moment she hovered in the hall and then as fast as she could, ran to her room and in an almost hysterical frenzy began to pull off the sheets and covers from the bed upon which he had slept, pulling at anything that bore even the faintest smell or hint of him, and all the time the refrain beat inside her head ‘What if he hurts Roy, what if he hurts Roy?’

 

………………..

 

Amos opened the cell door and leaned down to pick up the empty tray.  He was going to remark on what a good meal it had looked but didn’t get far enough to get the words beyond thinking point. A stool crashing down upon his skull sent darkness crashing down with it.  Afterwards Metcalfe closed and locked the cell door,  tossed the keys across the room and slipped through the door into the street.

 

A man was approaching, crossing the road and heading towards the sheriff’s office with a purposeful tread.  Metcalfe narrowed his eyes and stayed in the shadows long enough to recognise the figure as that of Jeffrey Jamieson.  The urge to rid himself of his one time medical assistant was strong and he raised his arm, aimed and fired.

 

It was a foolish move, it lost him time and  the advantage of shadows and secrecy. Now he was revealed and Jamieson immediately fired back two shots even as he fell in the middle of the road.   The shots were like alarm bells going off as people from the nearby saloons and hotels rushed to the doors, and spilled out into the street.  Ben and Hoss Cartwright were among them, their guns in their hands and running towards where Jamieson was struggling to regain his feet.

 

“Escaped prisoner -” Jamieson yelled, “Don’t let him get away -”

 

In her room Peaches put her hands over her ears and prayed for forgiveness while she imagined a scene that was actually far worse than the actual scene being played out in the street.

 

Metcalfe raised his gun, the small hand sized derringer was light to his hand, and his fingers felt clumsy as it squeezed the trigger.  He had fired off one shot and Jamieson had fallen, this last shot, the only one he had, would make sure Jamieson would not get to his feet again.  He fired, and began to run.  Two paces along and he felt two thuds in his back, as though he had been punched forcibly, but he staggered onwards.  Then he felt as though the power in his legs were going, he could see the boards on the sidewalk rising up to meet him, and then he was falling.

 

For a moment everything was just black and when he was able to open his eyes he was looking up into Jamieson’s face and was surprised to see the man looking anxious and concerned.   He could feel the warmth of blood spreading out over his body, and he could feel the strength leaving him as it did so. He looked up into Jamieson’s eyes and smiled,

 

“Too late, Jamieson, your Captain doesn’t stand a chance.  I’ve sent a telegram to Tokyo and -”

 

He paused as Jamieson held something up in front of him, he narrowed his eyes, and read a few words.  He was confused, that cablegram should have gone - he glanced at Jamieson again and saw the satisfied smile on the man’s face,

 

“He can’t survive.” he whispered.

 

“He can,” Jamieson replied staunchly, “He will.”

 

“No,” Metcalfe grinned, and then a shudder passed through his body, his hand reached out to snatch the piece of paper from his adversary but then weakness prevailed and his arm dropped limply, lifelessly to his side.

 

Jamieson let the body fall back upon the boards of the sidewalk.  He leaned against the wall of the building from where the lamp shone down upon him and Metcalfe and the oddly assorted men who were crowded around them.  He heard, as though from a long way away, a voice, familiar but not recognisable as a fog seemed to cloud his mind. Someone was saying “Pa, it’s Adam’s friend, he’s been hurt -” and for some reason he felt alright, his grip on the telegram tightened, darkness descended but he knew he was going to be alright.

 

 

 

Chapter 34

 

The breeze was freshening and The Shenandoah sails filled, the bow dipped to the waves, rose up and slapped down on the next wave that came.   Spray flew aft like a warm rain and Adam raised his face to look up at the stars.  He had studied the star charts and was aware of the changes in the pattern of these constellations.  The sails were filling well and the ship was hastening on towards the islands of Hawaii and Honalulu.

 

Myers joined him on the bridge and stood behind the helmsman, checked the wheel and got a disgruntled look from Baker, as if it were not bad enough having the Captain peering over one’s shoulder and making him feel like a man still wet behind the ears?  Myers turned to Adam

 

“The barometer reading is 3-0-point-4-7 and steady, sir.   Wind southwest veering northwest - 20 -25.”

 

Adam nodded.  He wasn’t really listening.  He could tell the changes in the wind now, but appreciated Myers enthusiasm, the youngster was willing that was for sure, and he was out to impress.  Adam watched as the moon sunk below the horizon, a brilliantly fat orange now distorted out of shape and now suddenly gone. 

 

“Should sight Hawaii by morning, sir” Baker said in his warm drawl, “All’s steady.”

 

“Who’s relieving you later, Baker?”

 

“Laurensen, sir.”

 

There was a splash from the portside as a larger wave hit the hull, and Adam looked up at the stars once again before turning and descending the steps down to his compartments.  A lamp swung too and fro by the door and he ducked to avoid it striking against his head.

 

He cast off his jacket and took his seat at the desk upon which were the charts he had been studying over the past few hours. One he now rolled up and put to one side, and then, elbows on the desk, and chin cupped into his hands, he stared down at the map to absorb the information he could glean from them.

 

O’Brien and Hampton could both be dead by now.  Perhaps long dead.  They could be food for fish at the bottom of the sea for all he knew, and he leaned back with a sigh at the thought and rubbed his chin pensively, for in that case he could be chasing red herrings for ever. 

 

He thought of O’Brien now, recalled the time they had first met and had formed their first tentative association, which became such a close friendship, sealed during the horrors of their previous trip together.   He wondered if O’Brien would be waiting for him, Adam Cartwright, to come to his aid this time.  He rubbed  his face with long sensitive fingers, and closed his eyes,  there was no denying it, he was tired, sleep had been elusive during the past few nights, and anxieties had been abundant.

 

……………

 

“Is my son in danger, Jamieson?”

 

Ben’s deep voice seemed to reverberate in Jamieson’s head as he forced his eyes open to look up into the anxious face of the rancher.  His injury was painful, a bullet through the fleshy part of one’s upper leg may not kill a man, but the doctor’s reassurance on that score did not lessen the pain.  He sipped water and then nodded to Hoss that he had had enough before settling back against the pillows at his head,

 

“I don’t know, Mr Cartwright, it rather depends on where your son is at present.”

 

“Can’t you explain any more than that?”

 

“I can only tell you that one of the biggest threats to your son, and to Mr O’Brien, has been removed. He sent a telegram to Tokyo, to one of his associates but thankfully I got there before it was sent and appropriated it -” he frowned, the thought came to his mind that he didn’t know where the telegram was, but the panic on his face was interpreted correctly by the rancher who held the piece of paper up to show him, “Thank you, sir,” he nodded in gratitude, “That piece of paper is a vital piece of evidence, it has the name and contact address of a man - the man - who could have been a lot of trouble for Adam.  I was able to contact one of our associates in Yokohama and as a result Mr Metcalfe’s friend and any of his allies will be under arrest and under interrogation very soon.” he closed his eyes, the speech had exhausted him, he held the piece of paper tightly in his hand, clasped it against his chest, “It will be alright -” he murmured, “It will be alright.”

 

Hoss allowed himself a grunt of irritation and shook his head as he stepped away from the sick man’s bed, he walked to the window and stared out of it, scratched his head, and turned to his father,

 

“I don’t like it, Pa.  I got a feeling like a thousand ants crawlin’ all over me -”

 

“Perhaps you just need another bath,” Joe muttered irreverently.

 

“Shucks, Joe, quit jawin’ around at a time like this, I need to think -”

 

“Won’t do you no good,” Joe replied getting to his feet and shrugging his shoulders, “Whatever you think  up won’t do any good because Adam’s way beyond any help we can give him.”

 

“That don’t exactly help, little brother.” Hoss said between gritted teeth.

 

“Well, ain’t no point in prettying anything up at this stage of the game,” Joe answered another shrug, “Unless you get on a boat for Japan yourself, and then you can’t guarantee that Adam will be there -”

 

“I don’t want Adam to end up in a situation like he was last time,” Hoss declared, getting quite hot under the collar now, “All that he went through in Alaska and the next thing you know they put him in prison and such.”

 

“At least he’s in a warmer place than Alaska.” Joe observed with a slight lift of the eyebrows.

 

“That’s enough,” Ben’s voice broke into the argument and he came and stood beside his sons, one hand on Hoss’ shoulder, “We don’t know enough, and what little we do know is sufficient to worry about.  We can only take Jamieson’s word for it at present, and assume that it could have been far worse.”

 

“Somehow that don’t make me feel any better.” Hoss said quietly. “I don’t know much about the sea and such, but I do know that there’s a whole lot of it.”

 

……………….

 

The Shenandoah was not a small ship, and boasted 16 sails, even so she still resembled a a small speck upon a vast curtain of blue silk.   During her days on this voyage she had passed four other vessels - a Dutchman and an English steamer heading towards Tokyo, a steamer cutting across to Shikoku, and a smooth clipper ship, French, heading for home. The Captain had saluted them in passing and hailed a greeting which had been affably returned.

 

The crew worked well together, Adam was pleased at that, and his officers were a good mix of men of whom Myers was First Officer.  The flautist, Adam discovered, was a midshipman, Griffin Mayhew.  The ships cook was an agreeable and good tempered man from New Orleans and Adam’s steward was a pleasant fellow by the name of Mike Scott, a Canadian by birth.

 

It was Scott who, as dawn was breaking,  announced the news that Hawaii was now in view, and the helmsman was awaiting the Captain’s orders.

 

Chapter 35

 

The many gaudily painted and decorated canoes that were heading towards the Shenandoah made Adam grateful that they were not an invading force.  On the light breeze drifting towards them from the direction of the islands came the sound of singing and laughter.  Lithe limbed brown skinned bodies plied to their paddles which dipped and dived into the water sending sprays of diamonds glittering back into the sea.  Forwards they came until they had reached the ship and now began to swarm up the ropes until they were soon crowding onto the decks.

 

Pretty girls, fulsome women, handsome men all shouting and singing and chanting, holding up the floral lei’s they had brought with them and throwing them around the necks of the ships crew with laughter and cries of ‘Aloha’  ‘Aloha American’  ‘Aloha sailor man America’.

 

A young woman mounted the steps to the bridge with the floral tribute in her hands and paused when she saw Adam, she bowed her head as though acknowledging that he was the officer in charge, and then laughing tossed the lei over his head

 

“Aloha, Captain America sailor” she cried and quickly turned and ran back down the steps to join her companions who were turning the whole ship’s crew into chaos.

 

“Shall I stop them, Captain?” Myers asked anxiously but Adam shook his head, raised a hand as though to still Myers’ from making any move.

 

There was a sudden lull in the laughter and chanting as a rather regal figure appeared on the deck..  An older man with a head dress arrayed upon greying hair stepped onto the deck bringing silence to his own people.  They  fell back upon themselves to let him pass, and Adam realising this was a dignitary and representative of their island stepped down to the lower deck in order to receive.

 

He was a handsome man, and as Adam approached him watched with a loftiness that touched on arrogance although his eyes were kindly and curious as they observed the younger man who came towards him with a smile on his lips,

 

“You are Captain of this vessel?”  he asked “I am Lunalilo, one of the Ali’I* of these islands.  Our King greets you and sends you his wishes that you come this evening where he will hold a banquet in your honour.”  he bowed his head at the conclusion of his speech and then looked up in anticipation of Adam’s reply.

 

“Tell King Kalākaua* that I would be honoured to attend, I and my officers.” Adam replied, “And I thank you for coming to give us this welcome to your islands, Chief Lunalilo.”

 

He swept his hand towards his own berth, inviting the other man to his quarters for refreshment but Lunalilo declined so graciously that no man could have been offended.

 

Adam watched him and a number of the canoes return to the bay, and without another word turned to go into his own cabin leaving his crew to enjoy for a while some laxity in discipline.  The sounds of laughter, singing and music drifted into several hours until one by one the visitors returned to their boats and paddled back to their home.

 

Adam finished writing the letter to his father, he signed it and put it in the envelope which he sealed with red wax.   Hawaii - a place as close to paradise, so they said, that a man could find.  Climate and culture perfectly balanced to make any human being feel immortal - for a while.

 

Adam allowed a third of the ship’s crew to take out the boats to the island.  Each man there had been given the directive that while enjoying their ship’s leave they were not to forget why they had come - to find out whatever they possibly could about the Baltimore and her crew.

 

Before dusk Adam and his officers, apart from Midshipman Mayhew who was left the senior officer in charge, boarded the Captain’s barge and entered the bay where they were greeted once again with singing and chanting, flaming torches were held aloft and they were led along to the palace of King Kalākaua and his Queen, Kapiolani*.

 

The whole royal entourage appeared to welcome the American Captain and his officers.  His ship was applauded and commended, the virtues of the American President, whom

Kalākaua had met the previous year, were extolled.  The King’s brother William Pitt Leleiohoku* was particularly obsequious towards Adam, and the Queen Dowager, Emma, who was known as the Kaleleokalani*, was so attentive and pro-American that her speech was utterly endearing to them all.

 

“I should imagine you see many of our ships now, sir,” Adam said to William in a soft voice and the other man nodded,

 

“Since my brother negotiated with your President a treaty between our countries, yes, we see American ships here now.*   Of course, the British have been here far longer. Our Kaleleokalani is part English, and her influence during the reigns of her husband and son has been considerable.” he frowned, “Your ship, Shenandoah, yes, I have heard of this place, Shenandoah, a valley is it not?”

 

“Yes, a very beautiful valley, sir. I commend you on your knowledge of my country.” Adam smiled and leaned forward to take more of the roasted pig.

 

“I read a lot.” William Pitt shrugged, “We are encouraged to learn -” he paused, “The last ship here from America is due to leave tomorrow.”

 

“I saw her in the bay.” Adam observed.

 

“She is a fine ship too, but not like yours, your ship is like many swans sailing on the seas, but the Portland -” he shook his head, obviously a man who loved romance and the sailing ships to modernisation and steam.

 

“Have there been no other ships recently?”

 

“British and French only.  The last American ship was about a year ago.  Like yours she was a ship full of grace and beauty -” he sighed and turned to converse with a woman by his side.

 

In the morning Adam had a package of mail sent to the Captain of the Portland with a request that he deliver them to the Post Office in San Francisco upon his arrival there.  Within the hour the Captain of the Portland was boarding the Shenandoah

 

“I couldn’t believe it was you,” the Captain cried, extending his hand to give Adam’s a very hearty shake.

 

“I didn’t even know it was you.” Adam exclaimed and stepped back to admire the young Officer standing in his cabin,, “Congratulations, Captain Masters.”

 

“I’ve a few crewmen from the Ainola on board the Portland, sir.” he smiled and sat down, feeling less in awe of Adam than he had during those first few weeks he had sailed on the Ainola.  He sighed, “That was quite an adventure we had, wasn’t it?”

 

“Yes, it was,” Adam poured out some coffee and passed a cup to Masters, “How long have you been here in Hawaii?”

 

“About three weeks.  Longer than intended, but we had problems with the ship.  Steam may be the way of progress but there’s still teething problems.” he smiled and gazed out of the port hole where he could see the island framed as though in a landscape painting, “I remember most of all the time the Ainola got trapped in the ice and we used the boats to haul her through - “

 

“Yes, I remember -” Adam sighed and captured the memory of the struggling men, the ice creaking and squeezing against the ship’s hull.

 

“And mornings when the ice was so intense it frosted the sails and the ship, it looked beautiful, do you remember, sir?” he glanced at Adam with a dreamy expression on his face.

 

“Yes,” Adam nodded and buried his face in his cup, “Have you heard any news about Captain O’Brien?”

 

“O’Brien?  A Captain?  That’s good news.  No, I’ve not seen nor heard from O’Brien since we parted company after - after the Ainola was destroyed.   How is he?”

 

“I don’t know -” Adam said quietly, “It’s what I aim to find out.”

 

“Is there anything that I can do?”

 

“If you see or hear anything of his ship The Baltimore - and could find a way to let me know, I would be grateful.”

 

“I’ll do what I can, sir.”

 

“You’ve not seen him in these waters then?”

 

“If I had, I would have told you right away, sir.”  Masters frowned, “I’ve been coasting up and down between Honalulu, Hawaii and the other islands here, there’s not been another American ship in the area for over a year.”

 

…………….

 

They blinked tears as they were hauled from the cage.  The sun was bright, brighter than they had anticipated, but compared to the darkness of their prison even the moon would have been too bright.  O’Brien wiped the tears from his face and closed his eyes.   The movement made the chains on his wrists rattle, and slowly he allowed his arms to fall back to his side.

 

His captors voices were harsh and crude, the language unfathomable but they all understood some words now.  The order to move on, to walk, to drink, to eat.  He forced his feet forward, stumbled slightly, raised a hand against the wall to steady himself, ,only there wasn’t a wall and he fell, heavily, upon the stony ground.

 

He was pushed along once he had risen to his feet again, pushed and pulled back into line and into a huddle of men.  He could see Hampton standing close by, and could barely recognise him.  He wondered if he, too, were now unrecognisable. The guards were passing them by now with gourds full of water which they poured over them, threw at them, vast quantities of water to ‘clean them off’.  He tried to catch some drops in his mouth, and knew that without this ritual humiliation the water rations they were given would never have been sufficient to sustain them. 

 

When he opened his eyes again and could see well enough he looked around him.  Every time he had been hauled out he looked and looked in the hope that there would be some weakness evident to him about their prison.   Some weakness that he could feed his mind upon and think of some plan of escape.  There were sounds to his left now and he half turned to see the bodies of those who had been in the prison and who had died during the night being hauled unceremoniously away.  Perhaps then, death was the only way out.  He looked over at Hampton and wondered just how long the man could last out now.

 

 

Chapter 36

 

No one had heard any mention of The Baltimore.  Each man who had gone ashore had made their own enquiries and found nothing to contradict the statement that the last American ship to berth in Hawaii prior to The Portland had been over or nearly a year ago.  

 

Fresh water and fruit was stored away and the cook had enough fresh meat to put into barrels of brine to last them a few weeks.  On the upper deck Adam watched as men carried the provisions down into the hold.  As the boats were finally hauled back on ship and lashed down, and the men began to return to their duties Adam gave the order to weigh anchor and to lower the sails.  Men began to hurry to their tasks, some mounting the ratlines, the rope ladders permanently rigged from bulwarks  and tops to the mast to enable access to top masts and yards.  The middies scampered up with bare feet, in order to release the reef lines on the sails, so that the great mass of sails were free to capture the wind.

                        

“Mr Conrad, sir?”

 

“Yes, sir, Captain?”

 

“Mount to the crow’s nest, keep an eye out for anything at all that you feel is unusual - anything, do you hear?”

 

“Aye, sir.” 

 

Adam narrowed his eyes to watch as Conrad snatched up the telescope and began to clamber up the ratlines to the crows nest.  He looked then at Baker,

 

“Your trick is it, Baker?” he smiled

 

“Yes sir, it is, until the next watch when Laurensen takes over.”

 

“Just steer her round the coast line of all the islands - don’t get too close, I don’t want to be bothered by bumboats now.”

 

“Aye sir.”

 

“Myers -?”

 

“Aye Captain?”

 

“I want a good speed on her, we’ve a good head wind, make the most of it.” he frowned and leaned forwards slightly “Keep a sharp eye out for anything unusual -”

 

Myers nodded, he knew better than to ask what exactly would be considered ‘unusual’.

The ships sails began to fill and the great vessel groaned and sighed and creaked.  The Hawaii’ns who had paddled out to rendez vous with the ship stopped their paddling and watched as the ‘Great bird’ seemed to lift up out of the water momentarily, before beginning to carve her way through the waves.  With cries and chants they bade their farewells to The Shenandoah and her crew, some of the women cast lei’s upon the water so that the colourful wreaths floated alongside the ships’ hull until they were eventually left far behind.

 

Adam walked to portside and watched as the ship moved smoothly through the waves.  The coastline changed, wavered, steadied and changed again.  Palm trees waved in the warm breeze and above his head the sails filled out and snapped with that familiar taut snap that augured well and made him feel that all was well.  They passed Big Island,* Kahoolure*, down the sides of Maui* and Molokai*.  Kauai* was last, all of which took far longer than Adam had thought as they had searched along the bays and crept as close to land as possible.   Now they had reached open sea and there had still been nothing seen of The Baltimore, nor of her crew and Captain.

 

…………………

 

 

“Where now, Captain?”

 

Adam reached out a hand and poured wine into the glasses of his officers, Myers, Hathaway and Kenney.  The doctor, wine still in his glass, raised a hand to decline any further replenishment.

 

It was two days after leaving Hawaii, the moon was a grossly oversized orange on the horizon, almost extinguishing the stars surrounding it, and the lamps and candles in Adam’s room cast shadows over their faces.   They had eaten a good meal finished off by fresh Hawaii’n fruit.  Adam surveyed his glass and nodded thoughtfully,

 

“We continue on course.” he murmured.  “If we don’t find anything by the time we hit Australia, then we turn round and come back again until we do.”

 

The officers glanced at one another, the doctor sighed and leaned towards an apple, which he polished slowly on his jacket, no one spoke.  Everyone felt that there had to come a break for them sometime, soon.

 

 

 

Chapter 37

 

“Y’know what -”

 

“What?”

 

“I reckon that this here trip is the best one I’ve ever been on, nothing’ to do but eat, sleep and enjoy the sun.  Y’know what?”

 

“What?”

 

“I reckon that one of these days rich folk are going to pay a fortune to sail on ships like this un around these islands.”

 

“Why’d they wanna do a thing like thet fer?”

 

“’Cos they’d be able to afford it, that’s why.  They’d git to sail around and enjoy the sun, visit them islands and have that hospitality there.  Ain’t nothing wrong with that, is there?”

 

“Can’t see it happening. Ain’t no point.”

 

Adam smiled as he eavesdropped onto the conversation between the two seamen who were carefully picking out the hemp from some old twisted ropes, this was called oakum, and the material found would be used for caulking the ship’s hull.  The drift of smoke from their pipes brought back memories of his father’s old pipe, and his smile softened as he stepped away from the prow as he wondered on what his father and brothers would be doing at that moment.

 

He glanced up at the sky, there were birds swooping and diving, and that indicated land. Another island. He pursed his lips and frowned, another slag of coral giving birds landing space no doubt, they had seen sufficient of them over the past few days since leaving the Hawaii’n islands.   He straightened his jacket and mounted the ladder to the bridge, picked up his telescope and began to scan the horizon.

 

He was steadying it on some movement on the island’s coastline when a cry came from the crows nest,

 

“Boat approaching, sir.”

 

Adam trained his glass on the sight of the boat that was being rowed towards them, the steady disciplined movement of the mens bodies as they leaned into their oars indicated to him only one thing, that they were seamen, trained to work as a unified body of men. He felt a tingle of excitement trickle up and down his spine, could this be, at last, the break they needed now? 

 

Steadily the boat navigated the coral reef that were like jagged teeth holding back the ocean and protecting what appeared to be a lagoon.  Stroke by stroke the boat came nearer, and the seamen on board the Shenandoah began to crowd together and to stand by the sides of the ship to watch her approach.

 

“Friend or foe, sir?” Hathaway asked in his soft voice, and he smiled in a way that indicated that he, too, was hoping that this was some break in their long search.

 

“Let’s hope that they’re friends, huh, Hathaway?” Adam smiled and lowered the telescope, handing it to the younger man who raised it to his eye although he had lingered a while to observe the insignia of the U.S. 7^th Cavalry that was stamped upon it.

 

……………………..

 

 

“There’s a cablegram for Jamieson.” Joe said “Could be something important.”

 

“Yeah, p’raps.” Hoss took another swig of his beer, drained the glass and put it back down onto the table, “Y’know, I’ve been thinking, Joe, Pa made a big mistake them years back when he sent Adam off to college.”

 

“Huh?” Joe wrinkled his nose and frowned, “How’d you make that out, Hoss?”

 

“Wal, I reckon that it took Adam away from us right back then, made him have a little bit of his heart always longing to be someplace else instead of with us.”

 

“Shucks, Hoss, you sure speak some nonsense at times.  Have you been reading them books again?”

 

“What books?  I ain’t been reading no books.”

 

“Reckon you have. I told you not to read them books.”

 

Hoss sighed and rose to his feet, he picked up his hat and shrugged,

 

“Well, you can think what you like, Joe, but I remember a time back when you was bit by a wolf, and we were waiting for a doctor to come see you and all Adam did was talk about the East, and so called civilization.  I told him then about how I felt about the Ponderosa, jest hoping that p’raps he could see it in per- per - hum - see it the way I do.  Guess he felt so low that evening he just let slip how he felt about life out here.”

 

“Hoss, that was a long time ago - now, c’mon, let’s get this mail to Pa and Mr Jamieson.”

 

“I guarantee you one thing, Joe.”

 

“What?”

 

Hoss squared his shoulders and shook his head as he placed the hat over his scant hair,

 

“I guarantee you anything you like that thar cable don’t bring any good news.”

 

Joe looked at his brother thoughtfully and then shook his head,

 

“You sure ain’t a happy fella today, are ya, Hoss?”

 

“No - and I’ll tell you something else too, that beer was flat.”

 

…………………..

 

The boat brushed against the starboard hull of the Shenandoah, and the men in it glanced up with expressions on their faces that indicated not only relief but hope, an intense hope that only a glimpse of salvation could bring any man. 

 

“Lower ropes -” Myers voice intoned the command and immediately the men were lowering the rope ladders by which the others could clamber aboard.

 

Most of the ship’s company were now on the main deck, each man prepared to welcome a friend but prepared for the enemy.  Adam, coming down the ladder from the bridge, walked forwards, the men parting to make way for him.

 

Each man, as they scrambled over the side and stumbled upon the deck, glanced at Adam and gave him a salute.  Not one of them spoke, waiting it seemed for their spokesman to come aboard.  Adam, eyes glancing from face to face, wondered, hoped, and waited.

 

“Captain Cartwright -” a familiar voice suddenly broke through the silence, “Cap’n?” and a big man elbowed his way through to the forefront of the assembled men, “It’s me, sir, Davies from the Ainola. I was -”

 

“Helmsman?” Adam murmured and stepped forward, checked himself and nodded, “Welcome aboard the Shenandoah, Mr Davies.”

 

“Thank you, Captain, thank you - I just knew we’d be alright when I saw the Shenandoah heave into view, sir.”

 

“Captain?” another voice and Adam turned to face the last man to step on board, “Are you Captain of this vessel?”

 

“I am, sir.  And you?”

 

“Lieutenant Jackson, sir, from the ship Baltimore.” upon which the young man attempted  a salute before collapsing upon the deck.

 

Although all the men appeared healthy, and certainly not malnourished, their clothing was in a sad state of repair and their hair and beards evidence of weeks without razors or combs. Adam had Jackson carried to his own berth and summoned Soames, the ship’s doctor, to attend to him. Davies, despite his familiarity with the Captain, had the sense to step back into the crowd and await any further dialogue, knowing that Adam would initiate such in his own time.

Myers stepped forward to hand over the Log Book from the Baltimore which he had been handed by one of the sailors, a youth who claimed to be a middie and had retrieved the Log Book before leaving the island. There were various papers sticking out from its pages, making it look a regular hedgehog of a tome.

It took little time to recognise the cause of Jacksons illness. At some time within the past few weeks he had received a bullet wound which had been neglected. The infection from the wound had putrefied, it was, Soames said, a wonder the man was still alive.

“I was worried at first, in case it was some fever -” he looked at Adam and knew the Captain had had the same fear, he shrugged, “I don’t think he’ll live beyond an hour now, Adam, I‘ve given him something to ease the pain and make his final moments more peaceable.”

Adam nodded and watched the door close behind the doctor even as he pulled out a chair to sit beside the dying mans bedside. Soames was a good doctor, and had proven himself a kindly associate. He was an older man, almost the age of Adam’s father, and allowed himself the privilege of referring to the Captain by his personal name when they were together in private. Of all the ship’s company he was the one man on board whom Adam had total confidence in, and he accepted that it could well have been due to the man’s age and experience, tempered by the fact that in some ways he was a father figure, a surrogate for his own beloved father back home.

He had placed the Log onto the desk, and occasionally glanced over to it, wondering what history it contained and what revelations it would open up to him. The man on the bed, stirring slightly, brought his mind back to his ministrations, and he turned to look down at the man who had now reached out a hand to touch his own. The coldness of the dying man’s flesh sent a shiver up Adam’s arm, never was there a time when a man was faced with the question of his own mortality more so than when there was contact with a dying fellow human.

“Captain?”

“Yes, I’m here -”

“O’Brien?”

“No - Cartwright, Adam Cartwright of the Shenandoah.”

A slight smile graced the lips of the other officer, he raised his hand and pointed into the air, his eyes, already drained of colour, were clear evidence of the nearness of death.

“O’Brien spoke of you -”

“Can you tell me what happened, Jackson? Who shot you? Where’s O’Brien? Where’s the Baltimore now?”

“Gone. Ship gone. Mutiny.”

“Mutiny?” Adam sat back and frowned, the one word that was like a blasphemy to a seaman, particularly an officer, he licked dry lips, “Is O’Brien dead?”

“No - not yet - maybe - don’t know.”

“Who shot you?”

Jackson stared up at the ceiling with blind eyes, his hand dropped to his side, his breathing became slightly easier and Adam leaned in towards him,

“Jackson, you’re safe now on board The Shenandoah, tell me what happened, what caused the mutiny?”

“I - I was born in the Shenandoah Valley,” Jackson whispered, “Beautiful land. Married a girl there.” his eyes closed and he sighed, a smile graced his lips and Adam had no doubt that the dying man was slipping into memories of happier times.

He felt a pang of remorse having to drag the wretched man away from his dreams and back to the realities of what had happened, he placed a hand on the mans chest, very gently, and said softly

“Why did they mutiny?”

“The woman -”

Adam frowned, was the man speaking about his wife now or some woman on board the ship?

“What woman?”

“Beacons - saw beacons - came and - ship broke up - O’Brien -abandon ship.” he reared up, his eyes distended and his arm flailed, “ABANDON SHIP” he screamed.

Adam put his hands gently on the man’s shoulders, but was amazed at the strength now in the man’s body, resisting his help to lay him back down, instead he remained rigid, his arm stretched out, his hand pointing ahead of him and his eyes distended.

“Beacons - no, false beacons - hit the rocks - abandon ship, abandon ship…” his voice trickled into a whisper, his body went limp in Adam’s arms and carefully Adam settled him back onto the bed, “Abandon ship -” Jackson whispered and then there was a harsh rasping, his back arched and he fell back, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling and his body finally at rest. Adam closed the man’s eyes and stood up, opened the door and called to Scott to fetch the doctor. The man was now beyond help, all that needed to be done was for Soames to certify cause of death and for the body to be taken to the sick bay where the carpenter would deal with what was to be done.

Adam returned now to his desk and pulled the Log book towards him. He glanced up as the body was removed, nodded agreement at the time for the ‘burial’, and waited for the door to close as he opened the record of the Baltimore’s last days.

O’Brien’s writing, strong and dark and decisive. Page upon page of information … latitudes and longitudes noted, how many knots they were travelling, weather conditions, estimated times to arrive here or there, mention of having to swing the compass at one time, which meant O’Brien had to measure the accuracy in the ship’s magnetic compass to readjust its readings, that meant he had to turn the ship and take bearings on reference points.

There was mention of the ships they had passed. Luncheon with a French Captain on board the frigate La Dauphine. Took on board two passengers, women. Mrs C. Turville and her maid, Miss Kirk, at the request of the French Captain. The passengers requesting passage to Tokyo, the frigate going only so far as Hawaii.

Adam glanced up, the door opened and Scott entered with clean linen for Adam’s bed. He obviously felt that his master could not, would not, want to sleep in the sheets upon which a man had died. Adam watched Scott for a moment or two as the bed was stripped and remade, all in silence. The Canadian was almost as elusive as a previous steward, Abbott. Adam sighed, memories of Abbott always made him feel guilty.

The Baltimore had no intention of stopping at Hawaii, and were pleased to take on the passengers as their direct route was for Tokyo. Mention of several other ships, some Japanese, a Russian merchantman, an English freighter.

“There was some agitation in the mess today. The men are objecting to certain conditions so insignificant as to be laughable, were it not just an indication of how uneasy they are with one another. This has not been a happy ship’s company from the moment we left American shores”

“There was a fight between a Marine and the bo’sun. Disciplinary action taken. Twelve strokes.”

“It is becoming increasingly difficult to locate the cause of these petty problems. The men are quarrelsome and unruly. Three men were disciplined today for insubordination. Lieutenant Jackson reported further matters that will need to be looked into. Mr Hampton commented that this was an unlucky ship, but that is not so, it is merely the men who persist in being objectionable.”

“There was a serious breach of misconduct this morning. Miss Kirk was assaulted by several of the ship’s crew. Twelve lashes to each man. Miss Kirk and Mrs Turville advised not to go from their cabin without proper escort.”

“Beacons showing -”

That was all. Adam turned the pages and found no further entries. The Log Book had obviously sustained water damage but there were no further writings or notations in it to record what happened next. He pulled out the slips of paper that bristled within the book but most were notations of a man with time on his hand to doodle, or sketch in some bird or fish he had seen, or even to write down snatches of poetry. O’Brien - he had been such a lover of poetry, and Adam had a fleeting memory of how they had bolstered one another up during the snow storms on that Alaskan wilderness by quoting poetry.

Then he found an envelope with his own name written upon it, ‘To be delivered to Captain Adam Cartwright’ and rising to his feet he tore open the envelope to pull out the letter it contained. He stood at the port hole to read it.

……………………

“Well, is it good news or bad?”

Jeffrey Jamieson glanced up at the rancher, his hand that held the cablegram dropped back onto his lap,

“It’s not good news.” his voice was devoid of emotion, dull and a trifle weak, he looked up at Ben again, “I think it was to be expected.”

Hoss shot a look over at Joe, a ‘told you so’ glance that did nothing to settle the younger man’s mind, he stepped forward

“Enough of the mysteries, Mr Jamieson, what’s the bad news, and how does it affect my brother?”

Jamieson frowned more deeply, and looked from one to the other of the three men there. It was strange, he thought, even though Adam Cartwright was thousands of miles away his presence was still strongly felt here, still alive, merely because of the love and respect these men had for him. He could understand it, it had touched him as well when he was on board the Ainola, and watching the man suffer both physically and emotionally during the bleakest hours of his life. Jamieson nodded, as though he had settled something in his own mind, he passed the paper to Ben who read aloud

“She was not there.”

They once again exchanged looks, puzzled, confused. Ben passed the cable back to Jamieson and crooked his dark eyebrows

“She wasn’t there? What does that mean? It obviously makes sense to you but nothing to us”

“No, I don’t suppose that it would, I mean, of course it wouldn’t.”

“Wal, ain’t’cha going to explain who the ‘she’ is?” Hoss asked gruffly.

“Cassandra Pelman.” Jamieson replied curtly and he could see that they were still confused, still baffled by the name.

“Pelman’s wife?” Ben said sharply, as though realisation and memory combined had revealed the fact like a bolt of lightning.

“Yes, Commodore Pelman’s wife. She disappeared after her husband’s death, if you remember. No one was able to track her down until some time ago when she was traced to Russia, with her brother.”

“Her brother?” Joe frowned, “Who was her brother?”

“Jeffrey Metcalfe.” Jamieson replied in a voice that trembled slightly, as though he had referred to the devil himself.

 

 

Chapter 38

 

“Adam - it’s a million to one chance that  you’ll ever receive this letter but should you do so, would you take care of Maria for me?  I mean, keep her safe and treat her as though she were your sister.   I just have this feeling that there’s something very wrong about this assignment and that, in all probability I may not survive.

 

I didn’t think too much about it at first, one doesn’t, accidents happen, but the co-incidences begin to mount after a while, don’t they?   I’ll start at the beginning - before we started from ‘Frisco several of our men met with accidents, so we had to take on board replacements.  They seemed alright but once we got mid-way through the voyage things began to go wrong.  A general air of discontent set in among the crew that I had not encountered before, and despite talking things over with them in an attempt to quell the trouble, things kept rumbling on.

 

Hampton said this was an unlucky ship, but it isn’t, it’s the men themselves.  Davies, whom you will recall from the days of our Alaskan trip, has kept me informed and it seems the men we took on board as replacements are the instigators and, unfortunately, one of my officers in particular seems to be the perfect foil for their aggression.  Lieutenant Jackson is a fine man but he’s a bully, ambitious and I have to admit, something of a loudmouth.   At the least hint of insubordination he demands disciplinary action.

 

Of course the more insubordination there is, the more disciplinary action is taken and the more angry the men become.  But that is just one complication …

 

En route we met up with a French frigate and were invited aboard for hospitality, which we in turn, reciprocated. It ‘just’ happened that they were going to Hawaii but the passengers they had wanted to go direct to Tokyo. Needless to say we offered our services and took the ladies on board.

 

Here is where there is another co-incidence, or was it?   Mrs Turville keeps herself to herself, I have seen her only once and that was upon boarding when I took her to her berth with her maid.   However the maid seems very familiar with the men, particularly those who came on board at such late notice.

 

I am plagued with questions and doubts now, not knowing for sure whether I am imagining things or not.

 

Last evening I invited Mrs Turville to join Hampton and myself, Jackson and our doctor, for supper.  She attended and was very pleasant company, in fact, a very attractive woman.  However as the evening progressed I noticed that Hampton was getting rather quieter than usual, he is an unassuming man at the best of times, and towards the end of the evening he was almost on the verge of being impolite to our guest.  He said later that he was sure he recognised her, a woman whom, he claimed, was one of the most unscrupulous he had ever known.

 

Can you believe this, Adam, but I have on board my ship Pelman’s wife, Jeffrey Metcalfe’s sister?

 

I am racking my brains in an attempt to get to the bottom of this matter.  I feel sure now that the French frigate, La Dauphine, was not there by any chance encounter but for the sole purpose of our taking this woman on board. Hampton is a nervous wreck and pacing the floor like a mad man.   Apparently she followed her brother to Russia, travelled to Europe with him and now?  Why Tokyo?  Why on board this ship with Hampton?

 

I am writing out my thoughts here, and my concerns.  They may well come to nothing. It may all be conjecture and co-incidence and Hampton’s overwrought imagination.  If so I’ll destroy this letter, if not - perhaps you will one day find it and be able to put together some of the threads of this conundrum.

 

‘Here life has death for neighbour

And far from eye or ear

Wan waves and wet winds labour,

Weak ships and spirits steer;

They drive adrift and whither,

They wot not who make thither

But no such winds blow hither,

And no such things grow here.

 

Then star nor sun shall waken

Nor any change of light,

Nor sound of waters shaken,

Nor any sound or sight:

Nor wintry leaves nor vernal,

Nor days nor things diurnal;

Only the sleep eternal

In an eternal night.”

 

Memories, my friend, memories …  my thanks, Daniel”

 

 

He read through the letter again  and then slowly closed it, folded it back into the envelope and drew in his breath before he raised his eyes to look out at the sea through the port hole.

 

He was roused from his reverie by a sharp knock on the door to which he called out an abrupt ‘Enter’, and when he turned he saw Davies, the helmsman of the Ainola, standing at the entrance to his berth. 

 

“Come in,” he said quietly, “Close the door behind you.” and while Davies did so he walked slowly to his chair behind the desk, with a sigh he sat down and looked at the man as he approached the desk, “What have you to tell me?” he asked, and leaned back in his chair to await the answer.

 

Davies cleared his throat with a loud hrrrmmph, and then with knitted brow and agitated hands he approached the desk.  He looked at Adam and then lowered  his eyes, unable to sustain the depth of the penetrating look he received from the Captain.

 

“Captain - jest that - thank God it was you came by now.  When we saw the ship hove to we were so -”

 

“Davies, tell me what has been happening?   From the beginning - and the truth, man.”

 

Davies’ eyes flicked up and once again he looked into the Captain’s face and once again he lowered his eyes, and hung his head.  For a moment there was silence then he drew in his breath,

 

“You know what seamen are like, Captain, superstitious fellows.  You can ignore one or even two accidents before sailing but when it mounts to three or four, then they get to talking and convincing each other that the ship’s unlucky.  That’s how we set out on our voyage, Captain, an unlucky ship despite having a good Captain.” he paused, “Captain O’Brien couldn’t be faulted in any way, not in anything.  Believe me -”

 

“I do - continue with your story.” Adam’s voice intoned, although he bit down on his lip, and his fingers were tapping against his thigh impatiently as Davies intoned his narrative in the only way he knew how, and that was, slowly.

 

“So we ended up with four or five pier head jumpers on board, at first no one thought much of it, they had signed on like the rest of us and replaced the men lost due to the accidents before the ship sailed.  But after a while it seemed those men were always at the centre of little incidents, things that were going wrong, and then that Lieutenant Jackson, though I don’t want to talk ill of the dead, he was a stickler for good behaviour and discipline, and when things went wrong he wanted to know why.  It meant more and more times the cat was out of the bag and used on our backs too - then those men would be there awhispering and criticising and it wasn’t long before the seeds of discontent that they sowed began to take root and grow.” he paused for breath, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before recommencing, “They seemed to pick on Jackson, knew his weakness and fondness for using the cat, so it always seemed things went wrong when he was about.  It began to rankle more and more with the men.”

 

Again a pause and he looked at Adam who was staring out of the window with a blank look on his face, at the silence Adam merely bade him continue

 

“The Captain wasn’t happy with Jackson and he wasn’t too happy with us, what with so much going wrong.  The whispers went around again that the ship was unlucky and then we met up with the Frenchie.” he cleared his throat, “Next thing was the women came on board.  That just made the men even more uneasy, an unlucky ship with women on board, that just increased the bad luck s’far as they were concerned.”

 

Adam raised a hand here, and turned to look at Davies,

 

“I believe Captain O’Brien was invited to dine on La Dauphine, did Mr Hampton go with him?”

 

“No, sir, Mr Hampton suffered from - well- he was a reg’lar land lubber, sir, and thought of getting down the side of the ship into a boat and crossing the water to the other ship just about scared the life out of him.  With all due respect -”

 

“And the next day when the French officers dined on your ship, did the women come over as well?”

 

“No, sir, not at all.  They didn’t come until the next morning.”

 

“And Mr Hampton didn’t see them board?”

 

“No, they jest scuttled into their cabin.  Never really saw the lady -” he frowned, “the odd thing was that her maid, she used to come out on the deck and fraternise with the men, particularly the pier head jumpers.  Whispering and laughing and flirting with them she were …”

 

“There was a report that she was assaulted on one occasion -”

 

“I believe so, sir.”  Davies frowned,  “By this time there was a lot of unease among the men, talk wasn’t good, and then Jackson came down with the master at arms accusing some man of harming the girl.   It caused a lot of bad feeling, a lot of whispering and murmuring if you know what I mean.”

 

“Go on -” Adam sighed, and turned to resume his observation of the view from the window.

 

“I knew the Captain weren’t happy, he wasn’t easy about the men and Mr Hampton was no help either, always fretting about this or that -”

 

“You were still on course for Tokyo, weren’t you?” Adam’s voice was crisp, sharp, and his eyes lingered awhile on the helms mans face.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“So, despite a diffident crew, you were on course for your destination - so what exactly did Jackson mean when he mentioned about some beacons?”

 

“Beacons, sir?” Davies looked unsettled, uncomfortable, his eyes shifted from Adam to the log book on the desk.  “Mr Jackson mentioned beacons, did he, sir?”

 

“He said the ship was lured onto the rocks, and was broken up.  You  had to abandon ship.”

 

Davies sagged slightly around the shoulders, he shook his head as though undecided about what to say next.

 

“Speak up, Davies, what did Jackson mean?”

 

“I don’t know, sir.”

 

“You must know, Davies -” Adam rose to his feet, “The man was dying, for goodness sake, he’s hardly likely to tell a lie on his death bed.”

 

“I know that, sir, but he could say things that were wrong, a mistake -”

 

“How could the ship breaking up and the command to abandon ship be a mistake, Davies?”

 

“Everything went wrong, sir.  Them that was with the pier head jumpers began to talk about mutiny, that was wrong talk, sir, and those that were agin it, told ‘em so in no uncertain terms.   A seaman don’t mutiny when there’s a good Captain in control, but Captain O’Brien didn’t realise that he had lost the men because those men had their confidence and were wheedling and needling away at ‘em until they couldn’t even see the quality of the Captain and jest wanted the ship.  It happens, sir -”

 

“God forbid it happens on any ship of mine,” Adam growled, and knit his brows as fiercely as his father ever would, “Get on with it - what happened?”

 

“I wish I could understand what happened really and why - but one night when we were on dog watch the lookout reported seeing beacons to starboard.  Well, that ain’t possible, not rightly so, not hereabouts.   We went to see what was going on and sure enough there were what appeared to be beacons burning -” he paused and shook his head, “next thing fighting broke out.  It was dark, men were struggling against men who had been best mates minutes before, we didn’t know who we were fighting.  Mr Jackson was yelling about beacons and I went down to inform the Captain.   He was writing in the log, and as I went in some men followed right behind me - I recall him standing and asking what was happening and there was shooting -”

 

“O’Brien was shot?” Adam stood up, his fists clenched as he leaned down upon the desk, “Did you see if he was - how bad it was?”

 

“He was alright, sir - he was dragged out, me too - young Harris grabbed the log, wasn’t sure how he managed to wriggle out with that but he did.  The fighting had stopped, the beacons, so called, were still burning. I saw Mr Hampton was standing there, looking scared out of his wits.”

 

“And the women?”

 

“No sign of them, sir.”

 

“Not at all?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

Adam bit his bottom lip again, passed his hand over his face and sat down with a concentrated look in his eyes before he glanced back at Davies,

 

“What happened next?”

 

“The men divided up, we were put on the boat and told to abandon ship.  Jackson was tossed down in with us.  Harris had already sneaked into the boat.  As we pulled on the oars with no idea where to go except to be guided by the stars, we noticed that the beacons were nothing more than burning tar barrels.  Seems to me those pier head jumpers were out to make trouble, and they knew exactly when and where to cause it.  Those tar barrels were a signal -”

 

“For whom?  Who else was about there to take notice of them?  What purpose did they serve except to scare the lot of you into a fight?”

 

“I don’t know, sir.  But whatever they was for, it worked for them, didn’t it?  They had the ship, and the Captain and Mr Hampton.”

 

“And the women.”

 

To that Davies made no reply, he merely clutched his hat tightly and observed the Captain thoughtfully.  

 

“How was Jackson shot?”  Adam asked in a voice that sounded deflated, even slightly depressed, he glanced at Davies before lowering his gaze to linger upon the cover of the Log book.

 

“He took over when we hit land.  Took command I should say … he wasn’t popular.  Some of our men died there - on the island.   I mean, we didn’t lack water or food, there was enough on the island to keep us going until the monsoon season, but some had been injured in the fighting and - and Jackson just drove them too hard.   To be honest, sir -”

 

Adam raised a hand, whatever Davies’ opinion of the officer, now dead, was of no interest to him, he had formed his own opinion already and in a short while would be praying over the body before it was cast into the depths.  He rubbed his brow with his fingers, while he kept  his eyes downcast,

 

“So - the ship didn’t break up, or get wrecked on the rocks?”

 

“No, not at all.  In the morning we could see her quite clearly -”

 

“Heading for Tokyo?”

 

“No, sir.  She had altered course.”

 

Adam raised his head and looked at the helms man thoughtfully,

 

“I don’t suppose you noticed - ?” he paused and Davies nodded,

 

“As it happened, sir, I did.”

 

 

Chapter 39

 

Lieutenant Miles Jackson was sent to his grave with more dignity at his funeral than he had ever received during his life. All the ship’s crew were assembled to listen to the Captains brief eulogy and prayer before the board upon which the body, sewn into the canvas by the ship’s carpenter, was tilted and the body slipped into the sea.  For a moment there was silence then the bo’sun piped for dismissal and everyone returned to their tasks.

 

Dr Soames remained standing  next to the Captain and both men walked to the taffrail and leaned upon it, looking down at the sea into which the late officer had been consigned.  One would never have known there had been such disturbance when looking down upon the resplendent surface.

 

“Well, Captain, I’ve been hearing quite a few tales in sick bay -”

 

“No doubt you have,” Adam murmured and his dark eyes flicked towards the doctor before returning to gaze upon the water, “Such as -?”

 

“Mutiny.”

 

“Hrrmph. I can’t believe any seaman worth his salt would mutiny against Daniel O’Brien.”

 

“Ah, it only takes a few seditious whispers and resolute murmurers to get discontent into a crew of superstitious hot heads.”  Soames folded his arms upon the smooth wooden surface of the ship’s side and frowned, “The late departed we’ve just deposited into the sea certainly played his part in the mess.”

 

“The perfect foil.” Adam agreed in a soft voice, and he bowed his head, “It’s a mess all round, isn’t it?”

 

“It is.” Soames glanced over his shoulder and watched as some men walked along the deck, “Jackson was a bully and a thug, he usurped O’Brien’s authority at every opportunity he could, and the men resented him for it.  Then the women -”

 

“I know about the women -”

 

“All the seamen I have treated in sick bay were loyal to O’Brien.  Some of them were saying that on the night of the mutiny they lost a lot of good men because there was so much confusion, good men died, and good men went along with the bad because they swallowed the lies they had been told.   They’re feeling very bitter about it.”

 

“Did any of them have any idea where the ship was heading when they left it?”

 

“Haven’t you been told?”

 

“I was given one suggestion but it leaves us where we were - a lot of sea to cover and a lot of land to negotiate.  The only consolation I have so far is that O’Brien is - was - alive when they last saw him.”

 

“And Hampton -”

 

“Yes, and Hampton.” Adam frowned, “I wonder what it was all in aid of, this mutiny?  It was planned from before the Baltimore set sail, that’s for sure.”

 

“They were after Hampton of course, and whatever it is he knows, or has in his possession or even because of his connection.”

 

“His connection?” Adam said vaguely and then he nodded slowly, “Oh yes, of course, with Grant.”

 

“The French ship didn’t arrive at that spot by accident I’m thinking -”

 

“I’m thinking the same.” Adam nodded and turned his face into the breeze, “If you find out anything more report to me immediately.” he said and walked away, while Soames made his way to the binnacle to collect the binnacle list, the ship’s sick list, for the day.

 

It was Laurensen who was on duty and he acknowledged Adam with a brief but correct nod of the head while his hands kept steady on the wheel.  He watched as Adam checked the compass and map which he had set out along with his sextant earlier The pitch of the ship was a perfect roll and dip, causing the fore and aft ends to fall and rise repetitively.

 

“Port tack, helmsman,”

 

“Aye, sir.”

 

“Prepare for ready about -”

 

“Aye, sir.”

 

Adam watched the man’s hands on the wheel and then turned to observe the sails as the wind direction changed with the ship’s turning, then he walked over to observe his maps. The co-ordinates Davies had provided he accepted as having been partly guess work, partly instinct, made from a glance back at the turning of the ship by the light of the burning tar barrels.  They could be so far wrong … 

 

The bell for the changing of the watch sounded and Adam looked up, glanced at the sun and then resumed his markings on the map.  Everything now was down to hope and a prayer …

 

………………….

 

The woman reclining on the beautifully upholstered chaise longue surveyed the gown that was being held up before her and with her head to one side she tried to imagine herself wearing it that evening at the soiree arranged for her guests.  She had earlier checked the menu with the chef and addressed the situation regarding the wine to be served, now all that remained was her own personal toilette.

 

A brief knock on the door and it opened, before she had said a word, to admit a young man who snapped his fingers at the girl holding the dress and dismissing her with a jerk of his head.  He walked towards Cassandra, bowed smartly with a click of his heels and waited for her to address him.  She didn’t, instead she stretched out her hand to pick  up a gold cigarette case from which she took one, snapped the lid shut, and replaced it on the table.  As she lit the cigarette she looked up at the young man through the flare of the match,

 

“Well, say whatever you have to say, and then go away and send my maid back to me.”

 

“You may not want to when you hear what I have to tell you.”

 

She merely raised her eyebrows, and drew on the cigarette before slowly releasing the smoke through her lips,

 

“I’ll be the judge of that, just tell me.”

 

“The American Government has infiltrated your brother’s papers -”

 

She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders, the flimsy silk of her negligee slipped to reveal pale soft flesh,

 

“The house in San Francisco has been ransacked -”

 

She inhaled from the cigarette and gazed up at the ceiling.

 

“Your brother is dead.”

 

She didn’t move.  Just for a moment she froze and then slowly turned her magnificent eyes towards him

 

“Who killed him?”

 

“He was shot in Virginia City.”

 

“Adam Cartwright - did he shoot Jeffrey?”

 

“No, he was already on board his ship.  It was a Pinkerton agent called Jamieson.”

 

She narrowed her eyes slightly, then gave a very slight shake of the head,

 

“I warned him that he had no time for personal vendetta’s, he refused to listen.” again a slight shrug of the shoulders and the silk slipped further, she stared up at the ceiling before putting the cigarette back to her lips, “Send my maid in, I want to see what dress to wear tonight.”

 

“But, Madam, can’t you see -”

 

“Can’t you see that you are irritating me?  Go away - I have a lot to do and little time in which to do it.  Send in Sophia.”

 

……………

 

Stepping into the cabin, Adam went immediately to his desk and picked up the Log Book.  Was it possible that he had missed something in the reports?  Would Daniel have realised that a situation was brewing over which he would have no control?  Light was fading now and he leaned forward to turn up the flame in the lamp so that a golden pool of light shone down upon the writing.  Slowly page over page he turned, until he had reached the final and last entry ‘Beacons showing …’

 

Beacons … Adam stroked his jaw thoughtfully, then tugged pensively at his ear, a gesture that would have had Hoss smiling knowing that his brother’s keen mind was gnawing away at some problem in search of its solution.

 

Tar barrels, beacons … fire and flame … he leaned back in his chair and sat silent and still for a while, his hand resting upon the open book and the other upon his knee while  he stared out at the darkness now beyond the window.   The first time he had seen Cassandra Pelman was when she had swirled into the Eugene’s house, and declared with a defiant almost triumphant toss of the head that his ship, the Ainola, was burning in San Francisco harbour.   He recalled to mind now the burning hulk of the fireship that had embraced HIS ship, and the flames, and he saw the faces of those who had died as a result.  HIS men.   He released his breath, unaware that for a moment he had stopped breathing, the memory was too intense and too miserable to dwell upon.

 

He cleared his throat and returned to the papers on his desk … Cassandra Pelman liked playing with fire, literally;  he had no doubt she had been behind the idea of the fireship that had destroyed the Ainola, and he had no doubt now that she had been behind the quite theatrical burning of the tar barrels.  It was all theatrics, grand gestures, but behind it all there was a plan of some kind … the accidents before the ship had sailed, the men ready to be taken on as replacements, the stirring  up of discontent, the exact timing of the French frigate with the women on board.

 

So she had sailed from France … Cassandra Pelman.  He scrambled around in his mind for a memory, Daniel’s letter, hadn’t there been mention of Jeffrey Metcalfe? ‘I have seen him in Paris and in Vienna …’ 

 

A knock on the door and Scott entered with the Captain’s night cap on a silver tray, he placed it on the desk and glanced at Adam thoughtfully,

 

“Is there anything else, sir?”

 

“No, nothing.  Thank you, Scott.” he allowed a smile, brief, to show his appreciation and waited for the door to close.

 

Jeffrey Metcalfe, Cassandra Pelman.  Both in France.  He left first, but she stayed until it fitted the plan for her to leave and get on board La Dauphine.   He picked up his glass of whiskey, and as usual inhaled the aroma of it first before his first taste.  It hit the back of his throat, burned its way downwards, warmed his insides … Jeffrey Metcalfe had been in San Francisco, he must have arranged for the accidents and selected the replacements, but then he had gone to Virginia City.  He could recall now Jamieson’s recognition of the man, their coaches passing.

 

He gulped back some more whiskey and walked to the port hole to look out upon the moon shining upon the sea.  It was a dead calm.  That meant the ship would be still, a silent witness on the black sea of the ocean.  He narrowed his eyes and remembered the time Metcalfe had left the Ainola, the way the man’s eyes had bored into his as the Russians had rowed away.  Russia.  Had Cassandra Pelman joined her brother in Russia before they had left together for France?

 

He rubbed his temple, round and round, and took another gulp of the whiskey. That was all in the past, but the past could well be the master of the present … he gulped back the last of the whiskey and placed the empty glass upon the salver.  

 

 

Chapter 40

 

“You’re looking mighty pleased with yourself, Candy.” Joe gave his friend a sly sidelong look out of the corner of his eyes and raised his eyebrows, “Anything happening that I should know about?”

 

“No, nothing” the other man replied sheepishly, and continued to hammer down the post with renewed vigour, going rather red in the face as he did so.

 

“You quite sure?”  Joe managed to ask as he grappled with some fencing and hauled it upright for Candy to take the brunt of the weight while he hammered it the other end.

 

“Yeah, sure, would I lie to you?” Candy said averting his face to avoid catching Joe’s eyes.

 

“Mmm,” Joe frowned slightly and shifted the weight of the planking “You’ve been going around the place looking like you were lost in a dream most of the time.  Is that what marriage does to a man?”

 

“I dunno,” Candy shrugged, “Different people react in different ways, I guess.”

 

“Wal, I wouldn’t know.” Joe muttered, and glanced up over his shoulder as he saw Hoss approaching, “Hoss, where’ve you been?”

 

“In town, had to get some more nails and such” he turned to Candy, “Hey, Candy, I saw Ann in town.” his face broke into a broad smile.

 

“Oh - you did? I mean, did you?”

 

“Sure did, and ain’t she jest about the cutest little gal a man ever did see?  Candy, you sure got yourself a real beauty of a wife.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Candy nodded, going even redder in the face but trying to avoid looking at the two Cartwrights as he reached out to grab a handful of nails.

 

“And she told me your news -” Hoss guffawed, and nudged Candy with his elbow sending the other man teetering forward some steps before he regained his balance, “Sure is something, I guess congratulations should be in order.”

 

“Congratulations?” Joe paused and looked at Candy before looking at his brother, “Is this what I’m thinking it is?”

 

“Dunno what you’re thinking, little brother,” Hoss said, “But seems like there’s gonna be the patterin of little feet soon.”

 

“Oh,” Joe smiled innocently “Is that right, Candy?  You getting yourself a dawg?”

 

Candy dropped the plank and turned to look at Hoss, reproachfully, and then at Joe,

 

“You know darn well it ain’t no dawg, Joseph Cartwright.  You’ve been hinting and pushing for me to tell you all day -”

 

“Cats then?” Joe smirked, tossing the hammer in the air and catching it in one hand.

 

Candy shook his head and picked up his end of the plank, hoisted it up and muttered something about getting the fencing finished before Ben came to see how they were getting on.  Hoss grinned, nudged Joe and winked, Joe in turn winked, nodded and nudged his brother back.  For the rest of the day Candy was going to suffer the merciless teasing of the two brothers in celebration of the news that he and his wife were to become parents.   It led to an exhausting day for the soon to be father.

 

…………………

 

Daniel O’Brien held the mug of water up to the lips of the sick man and carefully helped him to sip some of it, before his hand was pushed away.

 

“You have to drink more, Hampton, if  you want to escape this place you have got to build up your strength.  Come on, just a few more mouthfuls.”

 

“I can’t,” Hampton whispered, and his voice was shallow and reedy, he turned heavy lidded eyes to the young Officer and forced a smile, “I’m sorry, Daniel, I’m just not as strong as you, and - and I don’t think I can manage any more.  Why not go and rest now, while you can.”

 

“If I leave it here, will you drink more?”

 

Hampton merely smiled, or tried too.  He was too weak to do more than grimace and tried to turn his head away for it felt heavy on the thin stem of his neck and rolled  clumsily.  Daniel observed him thoughtfully, before edging away to where his bedding existed.  He sat there with his knees drawn up, his arms around his legs and his chin resting upon his knees, while all the time he kept his eyes on the other man.

 

Hampton was dying.   There was little point in pretending and ignoring the obvious.  The man’s weakness, lethargy, and the way his eyes were sunk deep into the sockets, making his face resemble some grotesque mask, were all signs that death was now imminent.  O’Brien wondered whether the other man knew it, or whether he was fooling himself into thinking he was merely tired and would wake up in the morning feeling so much better.

 

Scant food rations, foul water, all day sitting, standing, leaning, slouching with nothing to do to occupy one’s time takes a toll on the most robust of constitutions.   O’Brien had seen too many die around him during the past few weeks, the bodies left where they dropped until the guards came to force the living out of their prison, douse them with water and let them walk about for ten minutes before they were herded back inside.  By that time the bodies had been removed.  He had watched them, covertly, as they had hauled out the dead and dragged them away. No ceremony, no dignity.  Just carcases for casting into lime pits, and covering them over in shallow graves.

 

He had tried to engage several guards into conversation, but they had come to nothing.  If other guards saw a prisoner attempting to befriend a guard then that particular guard was not seen again.   O’Brien had given up attempting to talk, as had others, and now only watched and waited for an opportunity to act, unless, of course, death came first.

 

How many nights now had he sat and listened to the harsh breathing of some soul taking his last breath.  The air reeked from the stench of death.  He bowed his head and clasped his hands in some semblance of prayer while he struggled to recapture the features of his beloved wife.  She seemed now as though a dream, in some other life where he had enjoyed some happiness and pleasure.  Sometimes her voice came in snatches into his head, and he would pause what he was doing to try and retain it, but it would go, drift away like dry leaves on an autumn breeze.

 

“O’Brien -” a whisper of a voice and he raised his head, Hampton was struggling to breathe now, his hand feebly gestured towards him, this was the only man on earth now he could call a friend and he was dying.  “O’Brien?” he cried.

 

“I’m here, you’re not alone.” he said in as strong a voice as  he could muster, “You’re not alone …”

 

“Listen, O’Brien, if you get out of here, get Cassandra Pelman -” the man’s voice faded, the facial muscles contorted, the grip on O’Briens shirt tightened, “I wasn’t important, O’Brien, nor you.   Insignificant pawns.  She’s a -” the mouth formed words but no sound came, although O’Brien could well add descriptions of her for the dying man, but he gripped Hampton’s wrist, put his other hand on his shoulder and waited for the end which came painlessly.

 

“Is he dead, Captain?”

 

He glanced upwards at the man standing behind him, one of his own men who had been incarcerated with them.  He nodded, pulled Hampton’s hand free and gently placed it across the dead man’s chest.  He stood up slowly, and once again nodded.

 

He returned to his bedding, which was merely his jacket strewn upon the dirt floor.  He sat there, head bowed, hands clasped, and every so often he would look up and glance over at the dead body of the man who had come in an Ambassadorial capacity to the Japanese Government but had died in some hell hole in a foreign country, unsung, unknown.  As he himself had said, just an insignificant pawn.  Then why the charade?  That was what went round and round in O’Brien’s mind now.   There were no secret documents this time, no hidden codes, no treaties to be made and broken, no declaration on behalf of the President to another President … just a man, insignificant except that he was related to President Grant and had been sent to act on behalf of that President’s Government. 

 

It didn’t make sense.  He ran his hands through his hair, and stared down at the mud caked floor.  He didn’t know what country they were in, he didn’t understand the language of the guards, and he knew if he didn’t get out of the place soon he would be either mad or dead within a week.  And for what reason?  He glanced up and looked over his shoulder.  There were twelve men still living who had been part of the Baltimore’s crew.  There were at least another twenty five men still living from all parts of the world.  All bowed down from deprivation and starvation.  And for what reason?

 

That night four more men died.

 

…………………………..

 

There was a light tap on the door to which Adam called out ‘Enter’, and Dr Soames peered into the cabin, then stepped inside.  Adam indicated the whiskey decanter and glasses,  and watched as Soames filled two, brought one to him, and sat down on the chair opposite him with the other glass in his hand.  For a few seconds they savoured the whiskey, Soames leaned forward, a trifle uneasily

 

“Well, have you come any nearer to a solution?”

 

“I can think of only one -” Adam said quietly, “and the worse of it is that I may be entirely wrong.”

 

“Why so?”

 

“Because I don’t know for sure whether the destination we are headed for, based on Davies’ instinctive reactions, and some conjectures of my own are correct.  If they are -” he paused and sipped the whiskey slowly, as though he needed it to even have the courage to mention his idea, “If Davies was right, and we’re heading in the right direction it may not be too preposterous an idea after all.”

 

“Then what is it?” Soames leaned forward more closely, his hands tightening on the glass.

 

“Davies kept calling the men who replaced those who were injured as pier head jumpers - and we know that they are taken on for warships.  That’s right, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“The Baltimore was a warship. Not only was she a warship, she was The Warship, the best in the fleet, and the newest.  This was her maiden voyage.”  he frowned, “Soames, they weren’t after O’Brien, nor Hampton … they were after the ship!”

 

 

Chapter 41

 

Soames looked at Adam intently for a while, a mixture of curiosity and awe mingled with a desire to laugh at the suggestion he had put forward

 

“Curiouser and curiouser,” he mused, “What makes you think that?  I mean, why steal a warship? Who would anyone want to do that?  What will they do with it when they get it?”

 

Adam smiled now, the smile he would give his brothers when they would look at him in that same way, as though thinking what he had said was incredibly stupid but at the same time knowing that it couldn’t be and that any moment now some answer would be given that would make everything as clear as … well, much clearer anyway.

 

“Alexander II* of Russia -”

 

“Russia?  Are you mad?  Why would the Czar steal a warship, an American one at that -” Soames shook his head and got up to pour himself another glass of whiskey, he paused and decided to bring the decanter to where they sat, “Adam, that would be political suicide.”

 

“Not at all.” Adam dismissed political suicide with a wave of the hand, and after Soames had refilled his glass he drank some before putting the glass down upon the table, “He didn’t steal it, did he?  Mrs Pelman stole it for him.”

 

“How many whiskies have you had, my friend?” Soames chuckled, while dipping into his own glass quite liberally.

 

“Look at it from this viewpoint,” Adam leaned forward and as often happened he used his hands to emphasise the points he was making, “Alexander II lost money in the Crimean War, not only that his nation was humiliated at Sebastopol, he lost money selling Alaska to America.   It’s pretty common knowledge that he’s a reformist* in his own country but it’s a vast country, Soames, not forgetting that he’s also King of Poland*, that‘s a lot of people to keep happy and not all of them are, so -”

 

“So he steals a ship from America to make them happy, is that it?” Soames smiled indulgently and took another sip of the whiskey.

 

“As I said before, he didn’t steal the ship, Cassandra did.” Adam swept his hand down the back of his head, smoothing down the crisp curls onto his collar, he paused as though to gather the threads of his argument together, then with a slight frown continued, “Alexander II is threatening to go to war with Turkey* - again.  His military and naval forces are inadequate to the task but he is mustering them together, what better thing than to have a warship as modern as the Baltimore as the flagship to lead them across the Baltic mmmh?” he smiled slowly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Metcalfe and Prince Gorchakov* -”

 

“Who’s he?”

 

“Alexander’s chief advisor -” Adam narrowed his eyes, “Alexander isn’t a military tactician, he’s more into social reforms for his country, so he’s left a lot of the military and naval problems to his advisors.  What better than Metcalfe and Gorchakov planning this together, after all, Mrs Pelman would still have her contacts in the naval department here in America - and don’t think for a moment she hasn’t -” he shot that comment out before Soames could get the words out of his mouth “because it’s a fact that she has.   Both she and Metcalfe have every reason to hate America and what better revenge and humiliation than to take the Baltimore in the way that they did.  Also what better lever for getting Russian largesse in the way of protection, money, property -” he shrugged slightly.

 

“But Metcalfe is -”

 

“I don’t know where he is, last seen in Virginia City and no doubt hotly pursued by Jamieson -” he paused and smiled slowly, “a friend of mine,” he explained with a sigh, and crossed his legs and looked at Soames, “Well, have you any better ideas?”

 

Soames cleared his throat and shook his head,

 

“None, except that no one has mentioned hearing Russian being spoken on board the Baltimore.”

 

“Why should they?   There are quite a few Americans who are prepared to sell out their country, unfortunately, the Metcalfes aren’t a species all on their own.” Adam gave a rather crooked smile, “No, I think that’s where the Baltimore is, and that’s where we’ll find them.  O’Brien, Hampton and Mrs Pelman.”

 

“Find them?  Where?”

 

Adam sighed, a long drawn out sigh and he stretched out his long body, and shrugged

 

“I don’t know exactly where, that’s the problem.   We’re still hunting needles in haystacks, except that we know which particular haystack it is now.   We’ll just keep heading north -” his voice trailed away, he looked thoughtfully at the glass and drank from it.

 

“We may be already too late for Hampton and your friend, O’Brien.” Soames said quietly.

 

“I know,” Adam replied, “I know …”   

 

 “And you’re pretty convinced with this idea?” Soames asked anxiously.

 

“I can’t think of anything more plausible, after all, who would want to steal a boat?  I can’t see Mrs Pelman selling it back to the Navy, can you?”  he shrugged again, sipped his whiskey and pursed his lips, then he glanced over at Soames, “If you come up with a better suggestion let me know, but in the meantime we stay on course - north.”

 

……………………

 

It was hard to remain so still, limp and inert, barely daring to breathe.  He had pulled on his jacket and buttoned it securely, and he had taken Hampton’s personal papers and possessions from his pockets and slipped them into his own.  Then sometime during the early hours of the morning he had let his body slip into a huddled shapeless mass beside his one time associate.

 

As expected the guards had come, he heard the gates clanging open and the sound of their voices, the shuffle of feet as the men left the vicinity of the prison.  He waited almost impatiently,  and yet when the time came it still caught him by surprise.  The harsh reality of men showing no respect for the dead, a firm grip around the wrist and then being dragged through the prison, the ground rough against his body, an impatient shake from the guard when the ‘dead’ body’s foot had snagged against some obstacle or other.

 

Don’t move, don’t move he kept telling himself while all the time  his brain was screaming to different parts of his body commands that he dare not obey.  His leg hurt, but a dead man feels no pain so he forced himself not to  flinch, not to  groan, just not move.  His head struck against a stone and he had to bite down hard not to groan aloud. 

 

The guards voices were loud now, someone was laughing, another man said something and the laughter stopped.  Perhaps, O’Brien surmised, there was one guard at least who felt some respect for the dead.

 

Now he was being lifted up and he forced himself to go limp.   He had seen enough dead bodies to know that rigor would not have affected his limbs for at least another hour, and limpness would not have been deemed unnatural.  Rough hands grabbed at him under the arm pits and hauled him upwards and then flung him down.  He found himself face to face with a corpse, unknown, for which he was grateful.  It was easier to divorce himself from his situation by not knowing this rather intimate associate.

 

They were on a cart, he could felt the juddering through the bodies beneath him.  He closed his eyes tight, shut his mouth tighter and wondered yet again if he had been mad to have even thought of such a scheme as this one.   He wanted to put a hand to his face to prevent the inhalation of the stench, to hold back the nausea - but still he dared not move.  Thankfully the distance from prison to grave site was not far, the cart was drawn  to a halt, and he felt himself being lifted up, swung too and fro and then cast down.  Well, he told himself, if he died now what would it matter after all?

 

The breath was knocked out of him when he landed but the landing was soft.  He didn’t dare to open his eyes to find out why but remained as still as possible, as silent as he could be.   He heard the thuds of other bodies falling, landing close by.  Then came the  sound of voices, and after some minutes had passed he knew that only two men were assigned this ghastly task.  There were the sound of bottles clinking, footsteps retreating and he dared to open  his eyes and look around him.

 

One guard was sitting on the wagon seat, uncorking a bottle of wine with  his teeth, which he spat out, the other was unwrapping some food - bread, cheese and some meat.  O’Brien was amazed at the naturalness of the men, partaking of their morning meal surrounded by the dead!  He kept his eyes on them for some time, remaining so still that his body was becoming almost as stiff as the bodies around him that were now reaching various stages of rigor.

 

One man walked away, obviously to relieve himself and the other walked to the back of the cart, O’Brien surmised that he was collecting tools.  Now, he told himself, now was the time to move, to get away, and with a slow but precise roll of the body he twisted away from the mass grave in which he had been cast, and almost sick with fear - an almost unreasonable fear - he scuttled on all fours over the edge of the grave and into the thick grass in which it had been cut out.

 

Less than a foot away were shrubs and trees, and into these he scrambled.  Scurrying backwards he inched his way under cover, feeling twigs snagging at his clothes, but at the same time smelling the rich fresh odour of undergrowth and living things.   He folded his arms and through the shrubs watched as the two men returned.  Had he been able he would have fled but every limb in his body had gone weak, all he could do was rest his chin on his arms and watch.

 

They didn’t notice his absence.  They were too busy going about their task and too anxious to get it over with as soon as possible.  He closed his eyes as the dirt struck the first of the corpses, he felt tears on his face, his body ached with the effort to suppress sobs.  He whispered a prayer for those who lay there, unknown by name to him, but not unknown to Him who had every hair on their heads accounted for, and he thought of Hampton, and prayed for him.  Lastly he prayed for himself.

 

Chapter 42

 

In the gathering gloom that was descending upon the Ponderosa, Ben was just able to discern the figure of his  youngest son walking slowly towards the stable.  For a moment he watched Joseph from the shelter of the door of the house, and when he saw his son disappear into the dark interior of the stables he took a step forward, as though to follow him, then paused awhile.  He bowed his head and sighed deeply, before turning back into the room.

 

“Anything wrong, Pa?”  Hoss glanced up at his father, his brow creased in a corrugation of furrows.

 

“Hoss, I was just worried about Joe.”  Ben passed a hand down the back of his head, and rubbed his neck, “Didn’t he seem rather quiet to you during supper?”

 

“Yeah, he was, but he won’t speak about it.” Hoss crossed one leg over the other, and then watched as his father began to pace the floor, “Pa, you bin pacing the floor for as long as I remember over one or other of us.” he grinned, “Joe’s alright, he just needs some time to sort himself out.”

 

“Is that what he’s doing then? Sorting himself out?” Ben frowned, “Why does he have to sort himself out?”

 

“I dunno, I tol’ ya already, he won’t speak about it.  He’s been kinda quiet ever since Candy told us about how he and Ann are expecting their baby.  I tried to git him to talk some, but it weren’t no use.  He jest said he was alright and to leave him alone.  So I figured that’s what I’d do…” he shrugged, and looked thoughtfully at his father, “Are you going to leave him alone too, Pa?”

 

“I don’t like it when he goes into these moods, Hoss.   Adam was always the introspective one of the three of  you, and I knew how to handle that, but with Joseph …” he glanced over his shoulder, wistfully, and then back at Hoss, “I think I’ll just go and se if he’s alright.”

 

Hoss grimaced, and said nothing.  He reached for the newspaper and began to read the latest news and goings on in Virginia City, except that it wasn’t the latest because it was already several weeks old.

 

………..

 

Joe turned as soon as he heard the door creak open.  For a moment Ben just stood by the door watching his son, thinking of how he had matured into a fine looking man, handsome, a man any father would be proud to call his son.  His stern face relaxed a little into a smile of pride, and his eyes gentled as Joe turned a weak smile to him,

 

“Anything wrong, Joe?” he stepped further into the warm building.   He picked up one of the lamps as  he passed and set a match to the wick, increasing the light in the somewhat gloomy interior.

 

“Does there have to be anything wrong just because I came here for a few moments -” Joe snapped, and then clamped his lips shut, shook his head, “Sorry, Pa, I didn’t mean to snap your head off.”

 

“Well, I can’t say I’m not used to it,” Ben replied gently, and he raised his dark eyebrows, and approached closer to Joe, so that when they were standing shoulder to shoulder he was able to raise an arm and place his hand upon Joe’s back, “Anything you want to talk about? Any way I can help?”

 

“Aw, Pa, I guess  you know me too well,” Joe said, looking down at the foal nuzzling up to his mother and smiling in spite of himself at the sight, and he looked up and turned to his father with a slight frown on his face, “Pa, do you remember my Ma?”

 

“Of course I do,” Ben smiled, puzzled, and shook his head, “How could I not remember her?”

 

“I mean - can you bring her face to your mind any time you like?  Can you see the colour of her eyes, how they’d change in the light or according to her mood?  Can  you really see her as clearly as you did - say - ten years ago?  And what about Elizabeth, can you see her now like you did twenty years back? Can you hear her voice in your head and remember her smell?”

 

“What are you driving at, son?”

 

“Just answer me, Pa, can you?”

 

Ben sighed and lowered his arm, he leaned against the bar of the stall, and pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows,

 

“Well, I guess over the years it isn’t so easy to see them as it was, and sometimes it’s even quite difficult.” he licked his lips with the tip of his tongue before biting down on his bottom lip, “Oddly enough, I sometimes find myself thinking that my life with Elizabeth and Inger was just part of a dream - a wonderful dream - that I had many years ago.”

 

“And can you hear their voices now?”

 

“I dream about them, sometimes.  I hear their voices then, but - it’s not so easy to do so now.  Why are you asking me these questions, son?”

 

“Because I’m losing her, I can’t remember her so clearly anymore, and I find that I go for days without even thinking of her and when I do, she’s fading away from me.”  Joe said softly, and clasped his hands together, “I loved her so much, Pa, so much. Little Moon - “ he put a hand to his brow, “I loved her so much and now she’s just like someone I dreamed about, it all seems so unreal, as though it didn’t really happen to me.”  he glanced quickly at his father from the corner of his eyes, and then sighed as  he resumed his observation of the foal, “I did love her, Pa.”

 

“I don’t doubt that you did, son.  There’s no need to punish yourself just because of what is a purely natural thing.   It doesn’t mean that you didn’t love her then, or even that you have stopped loving her now, just because this is happening to you.  It’s not as if you had her for very long, was it?”

 

“Not long enough.” Joe whispered.

 

“I remember saying to your brother once, memories and dreams are precious things, they’re always there when you need them.  That’s true, son, even when you think you can’t hold onto them because they’re so fragile, so frail, suddenly a memory will come back to mind so vivid that it’s as though you’re transported back in time.  They never leave you, son, never.  There’s something so special about the woman you love enough to marry that it never lets you go -”

 

“I thought I would always -” he paused, licked his lips, “well, I wanted to always be in love with her, you know?   I thought if I were always in love with her I would never be able to lose her to the distance of time, does that make sense?”

 

“Of course.”  Ben smiled slowly, again his arm rested lightly upon Joe’s shoulders, “It just means your heart is healing, Joe, your heart is healing and perhaps you could love someone again.”

 

“Is that what happened to you, after Elizabeth?”

 

“Yes, and after Inger -” he paused, “you’re still young, Joseph.   You can’t hold back from loving someone else for the sake of  anyone else whom you have loved.”

 

“I wish you had met her, Pa, then you’d understand what I mean by not wanting to let her go.”

 

“I know, son.  I do understand, believe me. I do.”

 

……………….

 

The air was fresh, much fresher than it had been previously.   Davies was taking a trick on the wheel, holding the great ship steady as the sails filled with air and the vessel skimmed almost effortlessly through the waves.   Adam paced back and forth for a while, his eyes glancing up at the sails, then at the sea, then at the men working hard at their tasks.  It was a well run ship, he would have had it no other way, discipline was not harsh but it was tight, but commendation was there too, and each man in the ship’s company was made to feel respected for what they did and in whatever capacity they did it.

 

He noticed Soames at the binnocle, taking up the sick list and glancing over it.  He smiled to himself as  he recalled the conversation they had shared in the previous night.  Poor Soames, he was a practical man and lacked imagination.  Adam turned on his heel and stared out to starboard, glanced  up at the sky and thought over what had been said between them.  He had sensed, even when the doctor was leaving, that he wasn’t fully convinced of what Adam was saying, he had even said to Adam in a rather sarcastic tone of voice that he was surprised at his knowledge of Russian politics.  

 

Adam frowned to himself now, he hadn’t ventured to say anything, doubting that the good man would have understood anyway, but it wasn’t that difficult to find out what was happening in the world around oneself, even as far afield as Nevada, news could be gleaned from the most useful sources.

 

If he hadn’t had such an experience with Metcalfe and Pelman perhaps he would have not been so interested in Russian politics, after all, why should he have been?   But there were such memories from that Alaskan adventure … Lebedev, Rostov , and Metcalfe leaving in that boat, rowing away from them with such hate burning in his eyes.  Of course it was obvious that Pelman’s wife would join her brother in Russia, after all, she loved money and power, and Metcalfe had both. 

 

Bingham had liked sharing talk of Russia, they had had quite a discussion about the Czar while Adam had been in Japan.  It was a dangerous thing to turn one’s back on an empire that was growing more powerful every day, too dangerous to be like an ostrich and pretend that the Great Bear would not suddenly pounce and have you in a grip so tight that you could be swallowed down piece meal.  

 

He turned back and returned to the rail, looked down and smiled, Soames had gone, ready to perform his duty to the best of his ability. Adam nodded thoughtfully, well, he had his duty to do too, and being ignorant of a growing threat to American security was not one of them.

 

Chapter 43

 

For some time Daniel O’Brien was quite unable to move from where he lay.  He remained prone, his head resting in his arms but his eyes ever vigilant as he watched the two men carefully scattering the lime over the bodies, followed by the slow arduous task of piling on the top soil.  Perhaps he should have left, but he felt too numb, too weak.   There was also an overwhelming feeling that it would have been disrespectful to those who lay there in their eternal sleep, to even think about leaving.

 

The two men were quiet as they went about their task, as though even they felt the touch of death and their own mortality tapping them on the shoulders.  By the time they had finished their task Daniel’s nerves were at screaming pitch, he had rubbed his eyes until they were sore but he knew that if he were to give way to tears now, he would end up sobbing aloud and betraying himself to his captors.   He waited for them to finish and then, surprisingly, had to wait for them as both stood in contemplative silence at the graves edge, caps in hand, leaning upon their shovels with their heads bent in prayer.

 

They mounted the cart and trundled away in a strange morbid silence.  For some minutes Daniel remained where he was, aware only of the most profound quietude, so profound that not even a bird sang, nor was there any sound of a breeze wafting through the tall grasses and trees.   He felt as though the whole moment in time had been captured into a capsule and sealed tight, with no escape from it forever.

 

The mood passed quickly enough, adrenalin pulsated through his veins and his nerves began to pump messages to get moving.  He inched his way through fallen leaves and over damp soil.  He was aware now that the sun had reached its noon time position, that he was alone, without food or water, and the only asset he possessed was his own skin.

 

…………………..

 

“Steady as she goes, sir.”

 

“Steady now.”

 

“Abaft the fore hatch, Mr Jennings.”

 

“Aye, sir, abaft it is.”

 

It was the afternoon watch, noon to 2 p.m., Adam mounted the steps to the bridge and then overlooked the lower deck to observe the goings on of the men.  He paced to starboard and looked over the side of the ship and into the waters.   With an anxious sigh he glanced then up at the sky, checked the sails before returning to stand beside Baker who had just come on shift, or, as he would have said, come to do his trick.

 

“On course, Baker?”

 

“Aye, sir, doing well on course.”

 

“No problems?”

 

“No problems, sir.”

 

Adam chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, before turning to walk portside and to look down at the water.  There was no variation between that and the water he had just observed on starboard, so he returned to where the maps were unfurled and smoothed over for observation.   He was leaning down towards it when he became aware of Midshipman Griffin, the flute player, standing by his side.

 

“Yes, Mr Griffin?”

 

“Excuse me, sir, but Dr Soames wondered if he could speak to you in your cabin.”

 

Adam nodded, looked quickly at the maps, and then hurried back to his cabin.  Upon pushing open the door and closing it behind him he found Soames already there, standing by the port hole, awaiting his entrance.

 

“Is there anything wrong?”

 

“No, Adam, no,”  Soames smiled reassuringly, and then drew himself upright, “I’ve a sick man down below.  He wishes to speak to you.”

 

“How sick?”

 

“He thinks he is dying, he isn’t but I thought it might be a good idea for him to continue thinking it so that he can tell you whatever it is that is on his mind.  He’s more likely to tell you the truth if he assumes he’s now destined for only one of two places …” his smile broadened, “He’s one of the men from the Baltimore, a midshipman.”

 

“The lad who got the Log Book?”

 

“No, another by name of Daltry.” Soames opened the door and stepped aside for the Captain to lead the way towards the sick bay.

 

It was dark and claustrophobic and smelt of too many bodies and perspiration, but all in all, considering the amount of space available it was one of the better sick bays, he acknowledged that much to the credit of Soames, a doctor and medic of the old school no doubt.   He was directed to the hammock where Daltry was awaiting his death, and sat down on the stool by his side,

 

“Well, Mr Daltry, you wished to speak to me about something?”

 

“Yes, Captain. I would have asked to see you sooner but I’ve just been far too ill,” he turned anguished eyes to the Doctor, “Ain’t that so, doc?”

 

Soames nodded reassuringly, although he had to turn his head away as he did so.  Adam leaned forward and looked at the man’s face, it was shining with the sheen of perspiration and the eyes were dull and sunken into their sockets.  He really did wonder whether or not Soames diagnosis in this instance could have been wrong, the man certainly looked like a deaths head awaiting his grave.

 

“Well, speak up now, man, while you have the time for it.”

 

“That woman that came on board … not the rich ’un, her maid I mean … well, she was a rum ’un and no mistake …” he paused and turned his head away, coughed retchingly and lay for a moment gasping for breath, “she was always coming up on deck, flirting she was with some of the men …”

 

“Which men?  Can you remember?”

 

“They were the ones that came on to replace some we lost in accidents, just before setting sail.  That’s bad luck if ever there was …” he coughed again, long and wretchedly.  “She used to talk to them, but not in American.  She wasn’t an American.”

 

“Was she French?  They arrived and disembarked from a French frigate, I believe.”

 

“Aye, that’s so, but it wasn’t French.  It was …” more coughing, he wiped his face and begged for water which was given to him, after a while he was able to speak a little more, “She spoke Russian.”

 

“Russian?  And how would you know it was Russian?”

 

“I learned to speak it from some Russian sailors when I was whale hunting off the Baltic sea some years ago.” 

 

“Didn’t you tell your Captain?”

 

“No, sir.  I didn’t think it was important enough, after all, she was just a woman … I mean …no disrespect to her.” he sighed and closed his eyes, “It was just that I got to thinking that how would the men understand her unless they were Russian themselves, or just, like me, learned it sometime, so I went and asked one of them, in Russian …”

 

“And what was his reaction?”

 

“He threatened to slit my throat and chuck me overboard if I mentioned it to anyone else.  He said that I’d be watched all the time … I had not a chance to say anything to anyone then.  Anyway, that evening they took over the boat.”

 

“Did you understand anything of what was said?”

 

“Oh, it was just lovey dovey stuff.” Daltry closed his eyes, he was tired from talking and longed for some rest, his brow creased slightly, “She did say that it wouldn’t be long before they were home again.  I remember that, but didn‘t think it was anything important.”

 

“She didn’t happen to mention where home was, did she?”

 

“No, sir ..” Daltry sighed, closed his eyes, “Thank you for coming to see me, sir. I can die in peace now.  Thank you, sir.”

 

Adam said nothing but sat very still for a few minutes until the man had slipped into sleep at which time he rose to his feet and glanced over at Soames.   Together they left the sick bay and returned to Adam’s cabin, where Scott had already placed a tray with coffee and refreshments.  Adam gestured towards them and muttered to Soames to help himself, while he went to his desk and began to scan over his maps.

 

“I owe you an apology, Adam, it seems you were right.”

 

“Yes, possibly.”

 

“You’re not sure?”  Soames sounded surprised, poured out coffee and carried the cup over to the desk where he placed it carefully near Adam’s elbow.

 

“Oh, yes, I’m sure of what I said,” Adam replied narrowing his eyes to scan the names of islands and bays, creeks and archipegaloes that existed from where they were currently placed right up to the Bering Sea.   “We’ll have to stop off somewhere along here to take on fresh water and supplies.” he frowned, “Better to do it as soon as possible.”

 

“Adam, could this become serious?”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“Well, the Russians stealing one of our ships?”  Soames raised his coffee cup to his lips and sipped it cautiously.

 

“The Russians didn’t steal it, Mrs Pelman did.  That will embarrass our Navy, the Russians will say they didn’t realise, didn’t know etc etc.  Mrs Pelman will …” he shrugged, “Well, she will probably try to get away with murder, as she has done before.”

 

“War won’t break out then?”

 

Adam looked up and frowned, he straightened his shoulders and back, then smiled,

 

“I doubt it.  Perhaps a little skirmish here or there while we get our ship back, but that should be all.”

 

“Oh,” Soames raised his eyebrows, “I’m relieved to hear it” he sighed, “I think.”

 

Chapter 44

 

Cassandra had learned a long time ago that a beautiful woman silently paying rapt attention to mens conversation  would learn far more than a woman who asserted herself to out talk and out wit a man.  Reclining upon her chaise longue dressed in a rich ruby red gown that set off wonderfully the rubies around her throat, she listened carefully to what the two men were discussing with her now.

 

A faint smile drifted occasionally over her lips and she would turn her gaze from one to the other of them, and then to the view out of the window, before resuming what appeared to them, the giving of her full concentration on their conversation.  They were Russian but spoke fluently in English, although heavily accented.  Occasionally she would nod or shake her head, make a comment, ask a question but always at the back of her mind was the question : “Which of you would be the most useful to me?”

 

In her hand she held a letter in a very stiff envelope that carried a very impressive wax seal.  She had yet to open it, instead she smiled and listened until finally one of the men rose to his feet,

 

“Madame, enough of this talk, if it pleases you, we would like to see this ship now.”

 

“Of course you would,” she reached out and rang a small bell on the table by her side, “But it doesn’t please me to take you there myself, I’ve spent long enough on the ship to know how sound she is and how fast.  I shall get my young friend here to take you down to the bay where she is berthed.” she turned and smiled at Vacek who had entered the room, “Vacek, take the Count and Monsieur Nikisch to see the ship.  Please assist them in a very thorough examination of it - after all, I did promise the Prince that he would have the best and it suits me that our friends can report back to him that that is precisely what he is getting.” she smiled at them, “I shall take this opportunity to read my letter and if it needs a reply, I shall start to write it.  In the meantime, I look forward to seeing you later …”

 

“It will be our pleasure, Madame.” the Count bowed as did Monsieur Nikisch, and both followed Vacek out of the room.

 

The door closed quietly behind them, and she waited a moment before reaching out for a cigarette from her box, she sighed heavily as though already bored with this latest game she was playing, before placing the cigarette between her lips and lighting it.

 

She didn’t bother to open the letter, instead she rose from the chaise longue and walked over to the window.  It was a long arched window, the cill of it was low enough for her to step over and onto the balcony that overlooked the bay.  The ship gleamed white against the blue of the sea, and she smiled to herself as she thought of how easily it had been to steal it from under the noses of the Americans.   She could just see now the three men wending their way through the terraces down towards the bay and again she smiled, what did she care if they were interested in the ship or not, there would be others who would be, and if there was no one interested, then it could rot for all she cared.

 

As she looked at the ship she wondered what had happened to the Captain, and to the man who had been sent, supposedly on a diplomatic assignment.  She walked thoughtfully away from the window and into the shadows of the room, while she considered what to do next.

 

There was no doubt about it, she was bored.  The adventure had passed and this part of it, the bargaining and such, which was Jeffrey’s forte, was something that rather disgusted her.  Why did he have to give in to that stupid desire of revenge? It had resulted in the very last thing that either of them had wanted and now she was left alone.  Even as she thought it she paused to look at herself in the mirror and to observe the tall, slim figure that looked back at her.  No doubt she was beautiful, her hair, which really was her crowning beauty, adorned her head wonderfully, and the rubies at  her throat brought colour to her creamy porcelain complexion.   Her figure was that of a woman ten years younger than herself and her face was untouched by age.  In this regard she considered herself well and truly fortunate.

 

She inhaled upon the cigarette and turned away, the rich silk and satin of her dress moved across the floor in a soft, sibilant sounding way, and at the table she reached out for a glass of wine and drank at it greedily.

 

She was a beautiful woman and there was no man in her life to love her, reassure her of his undying devotion to her.  She missed even her husband’s sweating hands upon her shoulders, and the smell of him as he would come close to her, to take in the smell of her hair, of her body.  She remembered how she hated the thought of his nearness to her, but now … now there wasn’t even that to reassure herself that she was loved and desired.

 

She crushed out the cigarette, and returned to the window.  Those men who had come with such flattering comments, such praise and such compliments, all they really wanted was a boat.  She watched as they re-emerged from the terraces like three small ants, and she shook her head.   She seriously needed a diversion.

 

The maid came promptly at her summons, and listened intently to what her mistress told her, before hurrying away to do as she was told.   While she waited Cassandra opened the letter, breaking the seal as she did so,

 

“Madam

 

His Highness accepts your terms and upon the recommendations of the gentlemen whom he has sent to see you, will comply with them forthwith.

 

It is suggested that you remove yourself from your present accommodation and return to France or Italy in order that your presence here does not come as an embarrassment should future events involving the American Government become strained. It is, you understand, for your own safety and protection that we suggest this.

 

Be assured of our goodwill

 

Secretary to

Alexander Mikhailovich Gorchakov*

 

She raised her eyebrows in a fine arch, and tossed the letter to one side in a cold display of disdain.  So, this then was her reward, dismissal in such a polite way, so perfectly neatly written by a man who had been a Russian statesman for so many years.  She shook her head impatiently, the man was old, what could one expect?  She sat down upon the chaise and thought about him, how he had been the state chancellor since 1867*, and although he hadn’t been against the sale of Alaska he had not seen it’s immediate necessity.  How diplomatic was that?  She was about to reach out for yet another cigarette when the door opened and the maid entered, bobbed a curtsey and announced a Monsieur Shuvoluv.

 

He bowed, approached with the feigned arrogance of a young man who is somewhat overawed by being in the presence of such a powerful and lovely young woman, he bowed again when he finally stopped only a foot or two from her.

 

“You enquire, Madame, about two of our prisoners?”

 

“I did, what have you to say about them?” she looked at him, the full force of her blue eyes upon his face making him blush,

 

“There is little I can say about them, Madame, except that they are dead.”

 

“Dead?” she repeated, “How could they be dead?”

 

“People - die - in prison.” he shrugged, “It happens.”

 

“Both of them?”

 

“Yes, Captain O’Brien and Mr Hampton, they were buried this morning.”

 

“But Captain O’Brien was an Officer, a gentleman, and Mr Hampton was on diplomatic service -” she paused, and bit back what else she was going to say.  “Go away -” she waved her hand in dismissal, and when the door closed, snatched at the cigarette which she held between her fingers while she considered the conversation.

 

How could she blame them after all?  She shivered, such a waste, O’Brien was a good looking man, and she chided herself for not having paid more attention to his well being.

 

…………………….

 

In the half light afforded by the trees and shrubs, and the closing down of the day, O’Brien was able to stumble across a track to where a ploughed field stretched just beyond it.  It appeared as though some root vegetable was growing there and furtively he tugged at it, tugged at another and then hurried back to the shadows.  He brushed the dirt away, and bit, or rather tried to, into the flesh of what was apparently a turnip.   It stuck in his throat, even though he chewed on the raw flesh as much as he could he was unable to swallow it down.

 

He cast them aside and walked disconsolately through the copse, keeping the track close in sight, knowing that indicated human habitation close by, but humans who would not particularly want a wild looking man such as himself to suddenly appear before them.  He stumbled once or twice, his weeks in prison had weakened him, the lack of food, sunlight, decent air, had all contributed to his weakness.   He thought of Hampton and others who had died during  his incarceration, and thanked God that he had survived the odds.

 

It would, he thought, have been kinder if they had just been stood against a wall and shot.  It would have been swift and clean and quick, instead of the slow lingering torturous death they had endured.

 

He paused, the sound of water was just ahead and he pushed through the shrubs to find a stream trickling over rocks, clean and pure, and without heed of who was nearby who could see him, he ran out, fell to his knees and began to drink.  He stopped only when there came a loud bark from a dog, very close by, and with despair in his heart he turned to confront the enemy … a very large dog and a very small little girl.

 

Chapter 45

 

The girl’s hand on the dog’s collar was somewhat reassuring, for the animal was making a rumble deep in his throat that was a clear warning off to the  stranger who was frozen in a kneeling position at the stream with water trickling through his fingers.  She said something to the dog without taking her eyes from Daniel, but the dog promptly obeyed whatever had been the command and sat down, his eyes looking alternately at her and then at Daniel.

 

“I’m sorry,” Daniel said, and realised his voice was rough, harsh, coming from a throat so dry even though the water had slaked his thirst, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

 

She still stood there, and he realised that in actual fact the only one who was frightened was himself.  She was calm, curious, even intrigued.  She pointed to him and then to her chin, made a tugging motion as though pulling on a beard and then laughed.  A sweet chuckle that gurgled up from her tummy.  Daniel smiled, his ragged beard, grown as a result of his incarceration, was obviously of some amusement to her.

 

Having had a laugh at his expense she now turned away, tugging at the dog’s lead as she did so.  He watched her as she turned, and wondered if the next thing she would do was report him to the very people he had escaped from, and fear once again rose in his heart.  He was somewhat mystified therefore when she glanced over her shoulder at  him, and smiled, raised a hand and beckoned to him to follow her.

 

She was obviously not from a wealthy family, her clothing was cotton and linen and wool, homespun, finely decorated but not at all what one associated for finery, even, Daniel surmised, even here, wherever it was that was actually ‘here’.   He forced himself up from his knees, steadied himself for he was close to falling down again, his whole body being so weak, and trailed behind her.  Every so often she would glance over her shoulder, see him, and smile, her olive black eyes crinkling in the folds of her cheeks.

 

In a short while they arrived at what must have been a village of a kind.  No grand buildings, nothing that denoted wealth or riches here.   People glanced up as the girl passed with her dog and the stranger trailing behind her.  They stared at him, turned to watch as he followed her, but there was no hostile or aggressive move towards him and once he had passed beyond their view they returned to their own business.

 

She stopped outside a small building and pushed open the door, the dog waited outside, his tongue lolling between white (and very sharp) teeth, his amber eyes patiently looking at Daniel who stood, unsure, at the entrance.  He heard her talking, a language he did not recognise, and then voices, that of a man and a woman.  Eventually the door re-opened and a man stood looking down at him, his hands on his hips and his chin thrust challengingly forwards.

 

“Huh -” he grunted and some words were spoken that seemed like a series of grunts to Daniel, but the gesture was obvious enough, he was being invited inside.

 

…………………………

 

The dancing was in full swing when Ben, Hoss and Joe arrived. They entered the big hall that was festooned with the gaily coloured lanterns and were quickly seized upon by various factions.  Ben was grabbed by the Councillors who were taking the opportunity to discuss some project or other with him, Hoss and Joe made their way towards old friends with whom they were comfortable, and from their vantage point they could fill their glasses with punch or any other drink available and watch the dancing.

 

Barbara Scott approached them with her husband, they were hand in hand, relaxed and happy.  Hoss never thought of Barbara in connection with Adam any more but Joe did, which meant that Hoss smiled a welcome and Joe remained poker faced.

 

“Good evening, Joe, Hoss.  How are you both?  It’s so good to see  you both here this evening.”

 

“Thank you, Ma’am, Miss Barbara I mean, Andrew -” Hoss smiled, nodded and shook Andrew’s hand.

 

Joe nodded, then turned to refill his glass.  Barbara sighed, then smiled back at Hoss,

 

“I hear that Adam has been called back to sea.”

 

“Yes, ma’am, that’s right, so he has an’ all.”

 

“How is he?  Have you heard from him at all?”

 

“We - er - no, we ain’t heard from him matter of fact.” Hoss frowned, aware that his little brother was simmering and Barbara was getting uncomfortable, “But he’s off to Tokyo.” he licked his lips, “Ain’t that right, Joe?”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

“Tokyo?  My, that’s some distance -” Barbara replied, her eyes looking thoughtfully at Joe who looked over her shoulder at someone who had just entered the room.

 

“Excuse me, would you?” he said with a stiff smile and made as swift an exit as he possibly could, while Hoss stood at the table looking embarrassed and awkward.

 

“Er - say - kin I git you both a drink?  The punch ain’t up to Pa’s standards but it’s pretty good for all that.” he blustered feeling sweaty and awkward and vowing to skin his brother’s hide when they got home.

 

Joe however had no qualms about having left Hoss in an awkward position, he had seen Victoria Shannon arrive and was determined  to grab her for the first of the dances.  She was removing her wrap when he came up to her, and gave her the benefit of one of his most charming smiles.

 

“Hello, Joe.”

 

She said it so simply, almost childishly, that the words seemed to wrap around his heart. He cleared his throat, coughed, and smiled vacuously, like a schoolboy.

 

“Cat got your tongue, Joe?” she laughed, her blue eyes twinkled and she put out a  hand to touch his arm,

 

“I’m sorry, Victoria, I - I kind of lost my thoughts there a second or two.”

 

“Is that so?  I wonder what you were thinking about then …” she tossed her head to free her blonde hair from the snood into which she had bundled it upon leaving the house, “You know, Joe, I was wondering whether or not I should have come, seeing as how soon it was after father’s death, and - and wondering how people felt about him now that they know that - well - now that they know about him”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Victoria, it isn’t him that matters now, it’s you.  I’m glad you came.” he placed a hand over her hand, which was still clinging to his arm.

 

“Are you?” she looked at him, relief, pleasure, shyness, all combating shades that passed over her face, and then she smiled  “Thank you for saying so, Joe.  It may not be entirely true, but it does help a lot.”

 

“I hadn’t forgotten about what I said the other day, Victoria, about taking  you for a ride around the Ponderosa.  Would you still like to?”

 

“With you?  Yes, indeed I would, Joe.  It’s very kind of you to ask me.”

 

“I’m not being kind, Victoria, I want to take you …”

 

She looked shy again and glanced away, then looked back at Joe and smiled,

 

“Thank you, I really appreciate it, Joe.  I’d love to come.”

 

“That’s good. Now, what would you like .. A drink or a dance?” and he took her arm and tucked it rather proprietarily through his own.

 

…………

 

The man and the woman made room for him at the table, while the girl sat on a stool beside a fire, the big dog stretched out like a white fluffy rug at her feet.   A bowl of food was placed in front of him, and the woman nodded, pointed at it and then at him to let him know that the food was there for him to eat. 

 

His mouth filled with saliva, he was almost ashamed of the fact that the smell, so delicious, was reacting upon his salivary glands to the extent that he was positively drooling.  He was given a thick wedge of bread and without hesitation he began to eat.  It tasted as good as it smelt and he had to force himself to eat slowly.

 

The man sat beside him and ate from a bowl, breaking bread and dipping it frequently into the broth.   He now and again looked at Daniel, before glancing away to look at his wife, who now sat with food for herself and the child.

 

The man spoke, more grunts, Daniel shook his  head and shrugged, he pointed to himself,

 

“I am Daniel.” he said simply.

 

The other man nodded, and words, unfamiliar but clearer were spoken.  He looked at Daniel to see if he would understand, but Daniel shook his head.  The man crinkled his eyes as a deep frown furrowed his brow

 

“Ainu -” he said.

 

Daniel nodded, and repeated the word. The man nodded, then pointed to himself, his wife and daughter

 

“Ainu.”

 

Daniel nodded again, they were all Ainu, so it hadn’t been a personal name, he tried again,

 

“Daniel. I am American.”

 

“American.” the other nodded. “American.” he repeated the word slowly and looked at his wife who nodded also.

 

She rose to her feet now and returned with a vessel similar in shape to a samavar, the child came and placed cups on the table and into this a rich thick tea was poured, sugar added and handed to him.

 

“Thank you.” he said simply, “Thank you.” and for some inane reason he felt the urge, very strongly, to cry.

 

Kindness after a time of such cruel treatment comes as a surprise as well as a relief.  His emotions felt stretched as taut as a wire, and his hand shook when he took the cup, so that some of the scalding liquid spilt onto the table.

 

No one spoke.  The child looked at him sadly, as though anxious for him, the dog’s big tail pounded on the floor, making a dull thud,thud upon it.  They drank the tea in silence, and then the woman tugged at his sleeve and pointed to some corner of the room, she put her hands together and placed them against her face as though indicating .. Sleep.

 

Oh, to sleep.  His body was exhausted for want of real sleep.   He nodded, took her hand, felt it rough and calloused in his own, but shook it warmly, gratefully, before going to the bedding and almost instantly falling into a sleep.

 

A dreamless sleep.  So tired, so exhausted that he didn’t even think for  a second that they could betray him, would betray him.  They could have done, after all …

 

…………………..

 

Joe Cartwright was on the other side of the world, but when he eventually slipped into his bed his head was still whirling from the music, from the perfume from the young girl with whom he had spent most of the evening, and from the realisation that perhaps his Pa had been right, perhaps his heart was healed at last and ready to be conquered by love once again.

 

……………………

 

Whales swam in a pod close to the ship.  The seamen reacted as most men do when seeing these giants of the great oceans, their water spouts projecting fountains up into the air, their great flukes crashing down to create wave upon wave of turbulence that rocked the ship from one side to the other.

 

It struck Adam once again of the careful balance there should be between the animal life and human life.  As he watched them he thought of the men who had been whalers, who were, may be, still whalers, hunting down these majestic beasts. What would happen, he pondered, if one day all the whales became extinct because man had pursued them to their finish.   He was totally in awe of them as they plunged down into the depths, and his heart seemed to soar along with them when two leapt up together as though celebrating  life before they too sunk down beneath the waves.

 

Once he had been talking to a Cheyenne warrior, a man well used to handling a lance or a bow and arrow in the chase of buffalo across the plains, and he had listened to the story *of how the Great Spirit had told them to care for the earth, for it was their mother.  The mother would provide for her children always, there would be an abundance, for as long as they cared for her.

 

“The earth is like a wide hoop, but when the hoop is broken -” the old man had sighed, the frail back had bent and the grey hair had blown in the breeze across his face, “When the hoop is broken, the children will go hungry.”

 

Adam watched the great creatures until they disappeared from view, the sea calmed, and the ship steadied.  Thoughtfully he returned to his cabin, sat at his desk and looked down at the maps. His fore finger traced the path that they had already traversed, he carefully took his sextant and compass and began to plot a new course.

 

Later he made his way to the bridge and walked to the helmsman.  He smiled at the nod he received from Davies, his old helmsman from the Ainola.  

 

“Set a new course, Davies.”

 

“Aye sir -”

 

“Latitude: 46°30'0″N      Longitude: 151°30'0″E”

 

“Aye aye, Captain … as you say, sir.”

 

Chapter 46

 

 The table ware gleamed and the candle light flickered pleasantly .  Adam was always pleased when Scott set out the table so well, and there were grateful murmurs from the young men who were seated with him, and having eaten well, now leaned in their chairs, loosened their jackets and refilled their glasses with wine.

 

They were not sure what the fish was called that they had eaten, as it was a species unknown to most but it was very fresh having been caught only hours before being cooked.  The sea of the North Pacific was full of marine life, and the ‘unknown’ creature had been enjoyed to the full. Pork and vegetables, never to the excellence of Hop Sing’s cooking but only Adam knew that, had been served next and declared excellent, and compliments had been sent to the cook, an under rated individual who worked from dawn to dusk cooking for the ship’s crew as well as the Captain.  Fruit that was still good enough to eat from their Hawaii’n trip was next, followed by cheese and un-weevled biscuits.

 

“Well, so what do any of you know about the Chisima Islands,” Adam asked as he lounged back in his leather backed chair and observed the four men with a slight smile on his face.

 

“Ah, so that’s where we’re going,” Mayhew said with wide eyes and a smile, blithely unaware that he had just displayed his ignorance to all and sundry.

 

Scott smiled, looked over at Adam, and refilled the young man’s glass at Adam’s slight nod of the head.  They had learned during the course of this voyage that Mr Mayhew could take only so much wine in an evening.

 

“Chisima Islands - close to both the Japanese and Russian borders.” Hathaway said thoughtfully, “I think there’s over 50 of them.  Aren’t they also known as the Kuriru Islands.”

 

“Yes, that’s right,” Kenney leaned forward and took the last of the biscuits with a slab of cheese, he gazed rather absent mindedly at the far wall as though recollecting facts and figures drummed into him at school;  “Kuriru Islands, Kuril comes from the original inhabitants language, Kur meaning man.”  he looked around at the assembly, smiling in self satisfaction and awaiting congratulations, he received nothing only a pleasant smile of encouragement from the Captain, “Er - it’s an archipelago.  Volcanic.  I think there’s still an active volcano on one of the islands.”

 

“There is,” Hathaway nodded, “I think quite near to Japan, and hopefully, if that is our destination, dormant at the moment.”

 

“Let’s hope so,” Adam smiled and raised his glass to his lips. “Do any of you know anything about it’s political history?”

 

“Well, I think there’s some discussion going on between the Japanese and Russians over ownership” Kenney replied with his eyes grazing around the table in the hope of finding another biscuit, he was a plump young man, with an inclination to eat too much when the opportunity appeared.   His cabin mates had been known to lock their personal supplies away and hide the keys.

 

“Chisima is Japanese for Thousand Islands Archipegalo.” Myers said slowly, “It’s better known to us as the Kuril Islands and is approximately 1,300 miles northeast from Hokkaidō, Japan, to Kamchatka, Russia.”  he smiled slowly, “I read about them while in Tokyo.  There are discussions going on between the two countries, and a treaty known as  The Treaty of Commerce, Navigation and Delimitation was concluded in 1855.  This established a border between Iturup and Urup. The Japanese have the territory south from Iturup while Russia claims everything north of Urup.”

 

Adam nodded thoughtfully, and smiled over at Myers,

 

“Very good, Myers.   In your opinion would it be a good place to hide a warship?”

 

The four men looked at one another, Myers nodded, while Kenney leaned forward as though he were about to divulge some grand secret,

 

“It’s probably the most perfect place imaginable,” he glanced at Myers who was nodding emphatically in agreement, “Where better?”

 

“Especially with the Russian connection,” Myers added.

 

“Hmm,” Adam nodded now and refilled his glass.  Mayhew was now prevailed upon to play some music, the Partita for flute in A Minor by J.S. Bach.   As the music floated softly from the instrument Adam toyed with the glass, twisting it round and round between his fingers and wondering all the time what had become of Daniel O’Brien, and what a lot of time he had wasted searching around the Hawaii’n islands for the Baltimore and his friend.   It seemed more and more likely, and he had pondered this for many a day now, that his friend had died, and along with him the men who had been taken captive with him the night Cassandra Pelman took over the Baltimore for her Russian patrons.

 

……………………

 

The dark interior of the room was suddenly engulfed with light as the child threw open a casement that covered the window aperture.  She turned to look down at the man sprawled upon the bedding and with her head to one side she observed him thoughtfully, and even, somewhat critically.  After some moments had elapsed during which he seemed totally oblivious to her scrutiny, she approached him, knelt down and shook his shoulder.

 

O’Brien woke instantly, his hand groped for his gun, and found nothing except crumpled woollen covering.  He shivered, rubbed his head and face with his hands to get life into them and then looked at the child who smiled at him before reaching out her hand and placing it gently upon his cheek.

 

What kind of child is this, he pondered, that seemed totally untroubled and  unafraid of a total stranger and a wild one at that;  he could vaguely recall catching a glimpse of himself in the water as he had stooped to drink at the stream, and the sight had not been a pleasant one. He ran his fingers through his hair and beard, and hoped that would tidy them both a little.

 

The man and woman were talking together in low tones, there was the smell of food cooking and the sound of earthenware being placed upon the rough hewn table.  The girl stretched out her hand and he accepted it, held it within his own, a small dimpled hand that held within it hope.

 

They were about to eat when the door was flung open.  For an instant Daniel’s heart jolted with shock within his rib cage, and he froze to the spot in fear that the man now standing at the doorway was one of the guards.  The thought that he had been betrayed while he had been sleeping was such a contrary thought to the feeling of hope he had just entertained that misery totally overwhelmed him.   He stared at the man and waited, prayed that what he feared most was not going to become an actuality.

 

“So - you’re the American?” the newcomer declared as he stepped inside.  He looked keenly at Daniel,  closed the door, turned to the ‘host and hostess’ and shook their hands, he ruffled the girls hair, making the curls more unkempt than ever and even patted the dog on the head, “Well, how d’you do?  I’m Laurence Willoughby, and you -?” he smiled, extended his hand,  blue eyes crinkled, the blond hair flopped onto his brow, he looked as out of place there as O’Brien would if he were to be picked up and planted down in some smart dining room in Eaton Square, London.

 

“O’Brien - Captain Daniel O’Brien  - American Navy.” he replied hoarsely and rose to  his feet and accepted Willoughby’s hand by giving it a warm and hearty shake.

 

“Excellent.  Well done.” he smiled, exposing perfect white teeth, and then turned to the couple who were watching the performance curiously, he said something in their own language, took some money from his pocket which he jingled in his hand before placing it down on the table, he picked one coin up and placed it in the little girls hand, closing her fingers around it and smiling at her.

 

She smiled at him, then looked up at her mother and father and smiled at them.  It seemed to O’Brien that everyone looked very satisfied with the proceedings, but he only felt a vague feeling of discomfort.  For all he knew he had been sold into captivity again, and this man, this Willoughby, was nothing more than a Russian sympathiser ready to take him back to jail.

 

“Well, you can either stay here and eat with them, or come with me.” Willoughby said in a very pleasant English voice, “I’ve a place not far from here, and more room for you to have a clean up and shave - if that’s what you want, old chap?” he looked enquiringly at Daniel as though nothing was too much trouble, his smile was very pleasant, genuine but  O’Brien still couldn’t stop his heart beating and thudding against his ribs from the shock the other mans entry had caused him..

 

“Thank you, that would be - excellent.” he said eventually.  He shook hands with everyone there, smiled at the child, didn’t dare pat the dog who was looking at him rather hungrily and drooling rather messily.

 

Together the two men left the building and walked down the track towards a house that Laurence indicated was ‘his’ place.  Once inside, and the door closed behind him, Laurence pulled out a chair and indicated that O’Brien sit down.  He then roused up the fire and placed a kettle  upon the coals.

 

“Who are you exactly?” O’Brien asked as he approached the fire.

 

“Laurence Willoughby. I thought I’d already said.” Laurence replied, “There’s shaving stuff and soap over there, the water will be ready in a moment.  I’ll get us something rustled up to eat while  you’re getting cleaned up.”

 

“Thank you.” Daniel mumbled, his eyes turning this way and that, noticing some things and moving on to others.  “You came just at the right moment you know, even if you did scare me to death.”

 

“Did I?  Gosh, how unlike me …” he smiled, raised his eyebrows in self mockery, “My mother could tell you some stories about me and my ability to mess up when it comes to being punctual.” he picked up the kettle and poured the water into a bowl, which he passed over to O’Brien, together with what looked like a towel.

 

“We’ll talk some more while we eat.” he said cheerily, “Tea or coffee with your  breakfast?”

 

Chapter 47

 

Daniel didn’t speak while busy with his ablutions, nor did his new acquaintance who appeared quite happy to prepare their meal.   It was a relief to see his face looking back from the mirror at him, the sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks told their own story however, as did the dry lips and pale skin, but at least he recognised himself again.

 

Willoughby glanced up at him, smiled and nodded as though in approval at his visitor’s appearance, then poured out some tea.  He pointed to the food and told Daniel to help himself.   Without hesitation Daniel pulled out a chair and sat down, then began to drink the hot tea.  Once the cup was empty he began to put food on his plate, he did so with a deliberation that was not lost to his host, who was seated opposite him,

 

“So, Captain Daniel O’Brien of the American Navy, just what are you doing here on this island?”

 

“I could ask the same of you, Mr Willoughby.” Daniel replied carefully, and glanced up at the other man with slightly narrowed eyes.

 

Willoughby grimaced, shrugged and leaned forward to pour more tea into O’Brien’s cup, then he drank a little himself, before picking at the bread and eating it crumb by crumb, his eyes on Daniel’s face and a slight frown on his brow.

 

“I’m an artist,” he replied suddenly, and with a vague gesture indicated some items in the room that would support the statement, paints, oils, a palette and easel, some canvases.

 

“Here?  In this miserable place…” Daniel exclaimed in disbelief.

 

“This miserable place is actually very beautiful, Captain.” Willoughby replied as though rather insulted by Daniels ignorance,  “As an artist I enjoy travelling to places in the world that very few people have ever seen before, and have never had the chance to spoil and ruin.”  he pushed over a plate with some meat in it, “Try this dish, you’ll find it delicious, it’s a native delicacy.”

 

“Alright,” Daniel said slowly, “First of all, perhaps you could actually tell me what this place is called.”

 

“You don’t know?”  Willoughby extended his eyes wide, and Daniel momentarily wondered whether or not the man was pretending, “This is one of the Kuril islands, known in Japanese as the Chishima Islands.”  he picked up some fruit and turned it over and over between his fingers, “This island belongs to the Russians, the whole string of them separates the North Pacific Ocean from the Okhotsk sea.”

 

“It’s miles from anywhere -”

 

“No, not really.  Miles from where you should be -”

 

“How would you know where I should be?”

 

“It’s quite obvious, seeing that you didn’t even know where you were,” Willoughby smiled slowly, “I, on the other hand, have been here some months.  I even speak some of their language, which is how I came to know about you.  The villagers talk, you know, and you aroused their curiosity.”

 

“For heavens sake, man, tell me the truth, are you really an artist?”

 

They looked at one another, then Willoughby shrugged,

 

“Well, my mother said she wouldn’t touch my paintings with a  barge pole, and my father threatened to disinherit me for wasting his money on my education, but -” he shrugged, “What’s a fellow to do?  I love my art -” and his lips twisted slightly in self mockery. “Do eat some more, Captain, you look as though  you haven’t eaten anything for weeks.”

 

“I’ve not eaten well for some time, that’s true enough,” Daniel replied, he bowed his head as though overcome with weakness, but it was no physical weakness, only the remembrance that there were still a large number of men, some of his own ship’s company, who were suffering what  he had been enduring for all those weeks, in that prison.  Who knew how many had died while he was eating this food now?

 

Willoughby was watching him carefully, although he remained expressionless, his eyes softened. He licked his lips thoughtfully,

 

“You know, Captain, I wouldn’t mind betting that you had something to do with that ship they’ve got in the bay some miles back.”

 

Daniel raised his head, stared at the other man as though he were mad, opened his mouth to speak, before closing it again.

 

“I was painting in the forests close to the bay when I first saw it a while ago.  I thought it was strange to see an American ship sailing so close to Russian waters, then later when I went back - one has to catch the light just at the exact moment, you know? - I realised there were no American seamen on board.  Interesting that, isn’t it?”

 

“Mr Willoughby - is that your real name?” Daniel asked quietly, wondering whether or not the man was playing fast or loose with him, “I don’t know who you are, but I doubt very much if you are a bona fide artist.  How would you know an American ship from any other ship in that bay?”

 

Willoughby shrugged,

 

“Well, Baltimore is an American city or something, isn’t it?  Not Russian, is it?”

 

O’Brien’s mouth clamped shut, he stared at Willoughby as though the man were mad, he tried to rise to his feet, but found his legs were too weak, he fell back into his chair.  The next thing he knew Willoughby was pushing some more tea into his hands and insisting he drank it.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m just - feel so weak.”

 

“I’m sure you are, anyone would be considering what  you’ve gone through.” Willoughby replied kindly, “Here, lean on me, I think you need to have a good sleep and when you wake up, we’ll have a serious talk.”

 

“You’re not an artist, are you?” O’Brien heard himself asking as he was helped from his chair and half carried, half dragged to a bed just discernible in the far corner of the room.

 

“Yes, I am as a matter of fact,” Willoughby said in a very injured tone of voice, “Well, some of the time.” he added.

 

……………….

 

“Dear Pa, Hoss and Joe,

 

I’ve wasted so much time searching for Daniel and his ship around the Hawaii’n islands and coasting around the Pacific that I dread to think what could have become of him and his ship’s crew.   Weeks have passed and we have just gone from one false lead to another.  I have a terrible fear that they are dead and we are too late to save them or find the ship.

 

There are times I stay awake at night going over and over in my mind as to what I could have done that would have been -”

 

Adam paused, his hand holding the pen poised half way to the ink well.  Slowly he put the pen down and got to his feet, he put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and slightly hunching over his shoulders he walked to the window to look up at the sky, after a moments consideration he passed his hand down the back of his head, smoothing down the curls over his collar, and returned to the desk.

 

…………………….

 

O’Brien slowly roused himself from his sleep and crawled out of the bed.

 

“Willoughby?” He strained his ears waiting for a human sounding voice, but there was nothing.  “Willoughby?”

 

He glanced at a clock and noticed that it was some minutes to noon, then anxiously put his hands to his pockets as his first thought now was that he had been robbed of his meagre possessions, and most importantly, those of his dead companion, Hampton.  But everything was intact and he was about to mount the stairs to see whether his new associate was there when the door opened and Willoughby, dripping water and bringing rain and wind in behind him, stepped into the house.

 

“It’s raining,” he said with a slight hint of a laugh in his voice,   “ Come on, hurry up, there’s no time to be wasted.”

 

“No time - what - ?”

 

“Grab that sou-wester, man, and move yourself.  Oh, there’s a pistol in the drawer - here, I’ll get it.” he hurried to a rather flimsy desk and opened the drawer, taking from it a revolver which he checked to see whether or not it was loaded.  “No time to be wasted” he repeated, “Hurry up.”

 

O’Brien struggled into the sou’wester, the task more difficult as it was a size smaller than he would normally have required.  He caught the pistol as Willoughby tossed it over to him and had the vague thought ‘But this is loaded -’ before passing it through his belt and following Willoughby out of the house and into the rain.

 

A group of men, one of them the man who had provided O’Brien with shelter, were waiting, seemingly impervious to the downpour.  They ranked themselves behind the two men and silently left the settlement.  O’Brien noticed with some trepidation that all of them were armed with some variety of weaponry.  He tugged at Willoughby’s sleeve

 

“What’s happening?”

 

“Eh?  Oh, I’m glad the sleep refreshed you, I was worried for a while that you wouldn’t be able to join on.  Pity if you missed out on this -”

 

“This?”

 

“Yes.  Quite an adventure, isn’t it?” Willoughby’s teeth flashed white against the shadows of his face, slick now with the rain water pouring down upon it, “The rain came just as the right time.”

 

“Right time for what?”

 

“The right time to get your men out of that hell-hole, Mr O’Brien.” came the reply and this time the smile had gone, the attractive vacuous face was serious and stern.

 

…………………….

Cassandra stood at the window and watched the rain falling, slipping down the glass like so many thousands of tears.  She was so angry that if it had been possible she would have thrown something through the glass and felt some delight in seeing the whole thing crash into pieces.  They were not going to pay for the ship until further inspections  had been carried out.  The ship, the Count had said politely, had to be perfect and how could they present to the Czar a less than perfect gift from such a pretty lady?  It would offend him and be an insult to her.  Pah! She ground her teeth in fury and reached for a cigarette.

 

They had told her that Italy was good at this time of year.  Had she ever visited Venice, perhaps it would be a good idea to go after this little adventure.  If they purchased the ship then, of course, she could go anywhere in the world - better to avoid anywhere near the American coastline of course.

 

Italy?  Pah again - first of all she had to get off this wretched chain of islands and with them refusing to pay for the ship that seemed hardly possible for the foreseeable future.  

 

 

Chapter 48

 

“Well?  What do you think?”  Joe moved his hands away from before the girls’ eyes and waited.   His voice held a slight tremor of pride in the way he said the words, and when Victoria looked down at the view she could well understand why and turned to him with a face beaming with the brightest of smiles on her lips and in her eyes

 

“It’s beautiful,” she said in a quite reverent whisper, “I’ve never seen a view so beautiful, Joe.  Is this really your favourite place on the Ponderosa?”

 

“So far” he said with that pride still in his voice and he descended from the buggy and walked round to her side in order to assist her down.  “There’s parts even I haven’t explored yet.  But so far I’ve not found anything to beat this…”

 

“Yes, I know what you mean, Joe.” she agreed with her hands on his shoulders as he swung her down to the ground.  “Your family really are blessed, this is so lovely.”

 

“My Pa worked hard to make it so, and Adam and Hoss,”  he paused, “I reckon of us all I’m the one really blessed.  I came along when things were pretty fair and dandy.  I never had to go without to the extent they did -.”  he took her hand and led her to a shaded area and together they sat down upon the grass and wild flowers to look down at the lake.

 

“I can remember Adam , when he used to come for you at school.”  she smiled, “I think our teacher had something of an affection for him, didn’t she?”

 

Joe smiled and nodded, and watched her as she just sat very still to look at the view, to look up at the sky and see how perfectly it was reflected again in the lake, she turned and smiled at him,

 

“Thank you for bringing me here today, Joe.  I do appreciate it.”

 

“It’s my pleasure.” he replied, and he meant it, his voice was husky in his throat as he said the words, and he had to turn away from looking at her and stare over at the view towards the mountains.

 

“What will you be doing now?” he finally asked after a reasonable length of time had elapsed in silence, “Will you go back to the school?”

 

“No.  I’ve no position there now.” she said quietly, “I thought I would stay in Virginia City for a little while and just see how things work out.  I know my father - well, I know father -” she stammered, paused, “Joe, I couldn’t believe my father could treat Ben as he did… and other people in town too …”

 

“Don’t think of it, Victoria.  Don’t -” he squeezed her hand, “Please.”

 

“I can’t help but think of it, Joe.  I keep thinking whether or not I could have prevented it somehow.  Written to your father years ago and warned him, although I didn’t realise then that my father was guilty of malpractice and embezzlement.”

 

“Then you couldn’t have written to my father, could you, if you didn’t know …” he smiled and looked into her face, “Don’t worry about it, Victoria.”

 

“I do though - I let people carry on thinking my father was a good honest man when in fact I knew he was cruel and unkind.  I hated my father, Joe - “ her lips trembled and she lowered her head and pulled her hands away from his, entwining her fingers together within the folds of her skirt, “I couldn’t write to your father and say that, could I?  Perhaps I should have done .. “ her voice trailed away.

 

“Did he hurt you then?”

 

“My father drank, and when he was drunk he didn’t care who he hurt.  He caused my mother’s blindness.  People thought it was due to an accident, but it wasn’t, it was caused by him.”

 

Joe said nothing, he gazed across the lake and recalled Mr Caleb Shannon to mind.  Affable, kind, generous and always very straight to the point when discussing business with their father.  It had been only during the recent revelations concerning him that the veil had slipped and a glimpse revealed of the real man.

 

“Were you there then?  When it happened ?”

 

“Yes.  I was in the buggy and we were coming home from some function.  He had been drinking, and he drove the buggy too fast.  I was nearly asleep, but heard my mother begging him to slow down and let her take the reins.  It made me wake up, alert, you know how it happens sometimes, a sound or movement almost like a shock of electricity that makes you wide awake.  Then I realised that the buggy was swerving all over the road, and Pa was cursing Ma and telling her to stop telling him what to do and if she didn’t stop he’d beat the hide off her when we got home.  I started crying because I knew he would too, I’d seen him hit her and hurt her so he turned and was shouting at me to shut up.  He lost control of the horses and the buggy overturned.”

 

“I didn’t realise -”

 

“No, no one did. Not even the doctor, my father made sure of that.  My mother was very ill, so very ill. She was blind and - and paralysed down her left side for some time. He paid for her to go away, people thought how kind, how generous, how loving.  But, Joe, it was none of those things,” she turned to him, her eyes wide with misery, “it was because she embarrassed him by looking as she did, and because she reminded him of what he was, and what he had done.”

 

“That’s when you left too,” he said softly and recaptured one of her hands, holding it tightly between his own.

 

“Yes, I couldn’t bear to be in the same house as him.  I went to school and then went to help my mother in the School for the Blind.  She improved in health, yes, she remained blind but she was able to walk and use her arm and hand again.  She was a lovely woman, Joe.”

 

He squeezed her hand gently and raised her fingers to his lips, a spontaneous movement which even surprised himself. 

 

“You will stay in Virginia City, won’t you?” he looked at her, and saw the wide eyes, the long lashes, “Won’t you?”

 

As he kissed her lips and held her close to him Joseph Cartwright told himself that he was no longer a youth but a full grown man, and a full grown man needs a woman in his life, and as far as he was concerned, he had just found the woman he wanted in his life for the rest of it, how ever long it would be.

 

………………..

 

“Now what?” Daniel hissed into Willoughby’s ear as they approached the area where the prison, for there really was no other word by which it could be called, was concealed.

 

“You’ll see,” came the not very accommodating reply, and the Englishman turned to look at Daniel thoughtfully, “How long were you here for?”

 

“Several weeks.”

 

“Did you ever come across any English seamen?”

 

“Not that I recall.”

 

Willoughby sighed and turned away, a frown settled upon his brow and he stared through the rain at the rocks and boulders ahead of them.   The men from the village had fanned out now, and were so well concealed that Daniel had difficulty in seeing them through the rain and the foliage. 

 

“What’s your interest in this place, Willoughby?  Surely not to release a handful of American seamen?”

 

“I’ll tell you more about it when we get out of this and back to the house.” Willoughby replied and looked away from O’Brien and over to where the entrance of the compound could now be seen, “Come on, follow me.”

 

Rain may well be unpleasant, and somewhat inconvenient but it served some good purposes too as there were no guards in sight as they prowled close to the perimeter of the area where O’Brien remembered being humiliated regularly when allowed out to be ’cleaned up’.   He could feel his heart racing just remembering the times,, and the sights he’d see of the bodies of men being dragged from the interior of the cells.  He took in a deep breath and  half closed his eyes.

 

“Come -” Willoughby pulled at his sleeve, arousing his mind to the activity in hand, and slowly they drew closer to the entrance.

 

A man lounged in the shadows, a rifle at his side and a cigarette in his hands.  He was about to raise it to his mouth when Willoughby placed the barrel of the revolver at his temple, and ordered him to hand over the keys.  The guard did so with such eagerness that Daniel wondered whether he had been caught up in some kind of farce, surely, if the captives had realised the guards could be so co-operative they could have broken free weeks ago.

 

Daniel was now aware of other men moving about, the villagers were coming forward, entering the compound, stealing up to the prison wall itself and once the great gate had been opened they surged through in a rather ill disciplined mob.  He glanced at Willoughby  who could only shrug and, keeping close to the walls, follow along behind them.

 

The further along the corridors they went the more resistance there came from the interior.  A resistance to the attack was made and gunfire brought to bear.  The sound of the guns caused the prisoners to add their own cacophony to the melee, the rattling of the barred doors, shouts and curses, anything to add to the chaos until finally there came silence.

 

Daniel, as weak as he was, had succeeded in wrestling a rifle from the hands of one man, and sending him falling back with a wound that would prevent him from bothering anyone for some time.   Fumbling over the body he had located some keys, and pulled them free from the belt to which they had been attached. While the fighting had ensued he had hurried to the cells and unlocked the doors.

 

It had taken less time that O’Brien could have imagined for  the prison to be over run and captured.  It had been a rather disorganised affair, what O’Brien would later describe as being carried out in the typical ‘Gung-ho’ spirit of the British, but they had won through, and for him and Willoughby that was the main thing.

 

There were a number of men from the Baltimore still alive and more than happy to see their Captain again.   Other prisoners dispersed, returning to their homes, their villages.  It was as they walked home that Daniel realised that Willoughby was looking far from happy, and he knew instinctively that it wasn’t due to the wound he had received from some man who had taken a run at him with a knife.  He put a hand out to the other man,

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Willoughby said nothing, he shook off Daniel’s hand and quickened his stride to the small dwelling in the settlement, anxiously followed by his new found friend.  The rain had eased a little, the ground underfoot was slush and mud, the wind had died down and there was now a flat calm.   By the time Willoughby pushed open the door the rain had come to a stop.

 

Chapter 49

 

Willoughby closed the door behind him and slowly divested himself of his wet outer clothing, as did Daniel.  Neither man spoke.  It was Daniel who lit the oil lamp and candles while Willoughby poured out some whiskey into two cups.

 

“This’ll warm your cockles …” he said passing one over to Daniel, before turning and walking to the window out of which he stared for some moments. “Your men will be alright, the villagers will see to them. They’re good hospitable people.” he swallowed some of the whiskey and sighed.

 

“I didn’t expect it to be so easy to overcome the prison …” Daniel said quietly, “There was hardly any resistance really.”

 

“No, no there wasn’t, was there?” Willoughby murmured but the manner of his  response made O’Brien feel that he now had  little interest in the subject.  He remained staring out of the window and sipping the whiskey.

 

“Willoughby, thank you for your help.  I didn’t get the chance to really thank you before and now, with my men free, I can get a plan set up to retrieve my ship.” he sat down at the makeshift table and looked around the room, a trifle embarrassed as Willoughby seemed loath to reply.

 

The paraphernalia of the artist was clearly in evidence with the candles and lamp light shining down in the room.  Even to an untrained eye like Daniel’s the paintings he could see really were colourful and bright, well executed, and depicted various aspects of the island, it’s bays, the bird life, even people.   He swallowed some whiskey and then shook his head, on such an empty stomach as his own, the alcohol had a dizzying effect.

 

“So, you are really an artist with a flair for a good fight and rallying the troops?” he said with a smile.  Willoughby’ turned away from the window, and brought himself and the glass of whiskey over to the table and sat down.

 

He looked thoughtfully at Daniel then offered him a wry smile,

 

“I should explain, shouldn’t I?  I’m sorry, pretty arrogant of me to have led you out on a party like that when you don’t know me from whoever.” he raised his glass, sipped a little of the whiskey, “My father’s a Duke, owns land in Gloucestershire in England, and property in London.  Have you ever been to England?”  he sighed when Daniel shook his head, “Well, you know what they say about the English nobility … four sons, the first goes into the army, and the second into the navy, the third son goes into the diplomatic service and the fourth, whether he likes it or not, goes into the church.  I was the fifth.” he paused and sipped his whiskey once again..

 

“So where did you get sent?” Daniel asked with a whimsical smile.

 

“Oh, I could do as I pleased really.  Had a good education … Eton, Cambridge and then because I wanted to be an artist I went on to the Sorbonne.  Then the grand tour.  Spent time in Russia and learned the language.”

 

“And ended up here?”

 

“Ye -e -es.” he frowned, and a curl of blond hair dropped over his brow, the blue eyes lowered to look at the table, “My brother, Archer, he was the second one, in the navy.  He was my favourite brother, always took an interest in me, helped me out when I needed it.  Well, some time back he and his ship disappeared.  My other brother, Charles, the one in the diplomatic service, sent out feelers all over trying to locate him, but nothing seemed to come to the surface.  He, Charles, asked me to keep an ear open while I was on my trips abroad, just in case I stumbled upon anything interesting.”

 

“And did you?”

 

“I met a woman when I was in Russia.  A fascinating quite lovely woman.  She and her brother were quite - well - terrible really.”

 

“Terrible?  How do you mean?”  Daniel leaned forward, his heart thumped a little faster, while his mind kept asking ‘would it be possible?  Could it be such a co-incidence?”

 

“Odd to explain, really.  Some people just  have an aura about them don’t they?  They attract and repel in equal measure.   I got to hear quite a bit about them that made them even more interesting and so I got friendly with them, particularly with her, of course.  She really took to the idea of being friendly with the son of a ‘Dook’.” he smiled, “I didn’t tell her that I was No 5 on the list so didn’t really count.” he frowned then, and twisted the glass round and round in his fingers, “Charles had given me enough information to know, from the details I sent him, that this couple could well be involved in Archer’s disappearance.  The Baltimore, you see, wasn’t the first warship to ‘disappear’”.

 

Daniel said nothing, he was beginning to see now what had happened, what hopes had been raised and consequently dashed when Willoughby had not found Archer, he was about to speak when Willoughby began to talk again.

 

“I won her trust to some degree. I say to some degree because I don’t think she would ever trust anyone totally.  She told me about these islands and encouraged me to visit them.  As an artist, she said, I would fall in love with the place.  She told me that it was the perfect place to hide just about anything, anywhere.  Her brother, he was a cold fish, he didn’t like her getting too involved with me.”  he sighed, “Well, the upshot of it was that by listening at keyholes, getting friendly with servants and doing all the usual things to get information I did find out how their little tricks worked.  I just didn’t know on how large a scale and I didn’t know about this prison until I stumbled upon you …” he scowled, “The fact is when they found out that I knew so much they went off to France and I had to make a quick exit.  I made it to here, I knew they would be coming here some time, when their next coup worked.  In the meantime I could paint, and look for Archer.”

 

“And you haven’t found him, have you?”

 

“No, there’s a lot of islands and I guess I was being a little naïve in thinking that I would stumble upon his ship and himself somewhere here, enjoying life.  Sometimes I wondered if he had turned traitor and handed the ship over, other times I imagined a battle royal and him being killed. I just didn’t know enough but at the same time I knew too much - does that make sense to you?”

 

Daniel nodded sympathetically, he stood up and brought the whiskey to the table, then sat down again.

 

“Was the woman called Cassandra Pelman?”

 

“You know her?”

 

“Yes - and her brother, Jeffrey Metcalfe, I know him even more so.”  he poured whiskey into the glasses, and leaned forward, his arms folded upon the table, “How come you didn’t know about the prison?”

 

“The people here wouldn’t talk about it, they’re very - well - naïve in a lot of ways, superstitious too.  They wouldn’t talk about it, although they did mention about a bad place, but I thought it was just their talk for places that were taboo to foreigners. It took me a bit of time convincing them to help me attack the place.  Your presence helped a lot, thankfully.”

 

“You hoped to find Archer there?”

 

“Yes.  I didn’t know where else he could have gone.” his lips firmed into a grim line, “I can only presume that he’s dead.”

 

Daniel said nothing, his mind returned to his days of incarceration, the despair and depression, the lack of food and exercise, the longing to be free mixing with the longing to be stood against a wall and shot.  He didn’t like to confirm Willoughby’s suspicions nor indicate where Archer’s body may be found.

 

“When did they start .. I mean, Mrs Pelman and her brother, when did they start this plan of theirs to steal warships and sell them to the Russians?”

 

“According to my brother Charles, and various others in the diplomatic services in various lands, it’s been some time.  Not too obvious, of course, just a ship reported missing with all hands in such and such a locality, or floundered off the coast of wherever.  Not always sold to the Russians either, old chap, it depended on who had the money available at the time.”

 

“Could it have been as far back as - say - ten years?”

 

“I don’t know -” Willoughby leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, “Oh, wait, she said something about after the civil war, her husband and brother thought up this plan.  So - it couldn’t have been as far back as ten years.”

 

“Her husband was a Commodore in the American navy -” Daniel said slowly, and he put a hand to his throat as though feeling a noose around his neck.

 

…………………..

 

The Shenandoah slipped easily into the bay.   Adam had directed that the ship be put into a safe harbour so that running repairs could be carried out and both the ship and the men could get the opportunity to dry out.   Two boatloads of men rowed to the island in search of fresh water and whatever provisions they could locate, either by bartering with the locals, if there were any, or taking what they found from the vast amounts of vegetation which appeared to be abundant on the island.

 

He, in the meantime, went to his own cabin to make a note in the log and to write to his father and brothers, and then poured himself out some coffee.  He walked to the port hole and looked out at the island that stretched just a few miles away.  A strange land, a strange sea.  He shifted his gaze to look up at the sky and wondered, as he often did, what his family would be doing at that time and whether or not they would be sparing a thought, just occasionally, for him.

 

………………

 

A slight breeze had blown up from somewhere and created ripples upon the surface of the lake.  Joe looked thoughtfully at Victoria and wondered if he had been too rash in kissing her, for she had pulled away, then looked down with a little blush on her cheeks, and become very quiet.

 

“Have I offended you?  I am sorry if I did it’s just that -”

 

“No, it’s alright, Joe, you didn’t offend me, certainly not.” she gazed up at him, large blue eyes that shone at him, and her lips were parted in a very gentle smile, “I just needed to hold back, gather my thoughts -”

 

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist ...” he pulled a face, one designed to bring a smile to her face that would be encouraging rather than sympathetic.

 

“Joe, my father -”

 

“No, don’t bring him into the conversation again, ,Victoria.  Whatever he did is gone, he’s dead and he has no influence over us now.”

 

“Very well.” she frowned, “I’ve always felt a great fondness for you , Joe, even at school I admired you from afar. You were always in the thick of things, always in trouble and always so amusing. I loved you and laughed at you - you were so utterly incorrigible.” she laughed now, and leaned towards him, but not near enough for him to kiss her again, “I think Miss Jones loved you too, in her own way”

 

“I somehow doubt it -”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, you brought a lot of life into the class room.  You have that gift, Joe, you bring life to where ever you are.  But, you see, I’m not like that … I’m not very clever, I couldn’t shoot a gun or a rifle to save my life, I don’t know anything about cattle and -”

 

“But, Victoria, I’m not expecting you to be able to do anything like that,” he laughed a little, and held her hand between his own, “My mother was a lady from New Orleans, for Pete’s sake, and she

knew nothing about life out here, and back then, it was a whole lot wilder than it is now.  Shucks, she couldn’t shoot a barn, let alone a barn door.  Pretty good with the epee’s though -” his smile softened as he spoke, memories of his mother although softened his mood, whatever the mood happened to be at the time.

 

She looked at him then, as though searching in him for some flaw, something that would prevent her from giving her heart to him.  It was, she knew, already a lost cause, she had lost her heart years ago, and absence from him had been time enough to build up a barrier which was fast being dismantled now.  She wondered whether or not she was wise to assume so much from just one kiss .

 

Chapter 50

 

“Bo’sun, pipe all hands on deck.”

 

“Aye, Captain”

 

Adam stood at the bridge and waited while the bo’sun piped for the ship’s company to assemble on the main deck.   There was the usual thud of feet on boards, men swung down from the rat lines and sheets, or appeared from the holds.  Eventually they were all assembled and stood in silence before their Captain.   Behind him stood the officers, and behind them Davies was at the helm. 

 

“Men -” he paused and looked at them, each man there felt as though the dark eyes of their Captain was boring  into theirs and they straightened their shoulders squarely as a result, “Currently we are in Russian waters.  We need to keep alert at all times and be careful how we act should we be approached by a Russian man of war.   We are not at war with Russia, and we certainly do not want to be the cause of any trouble between our nations so a degree of tact and discernment has to be considered at this time.  

 

“You know what our assignment is here - we will be sailing around the coast line of these islands until we locate our ship, The Baltimore.  If tact and discernment, some folk call it diplomacy” (there was a ripple of laughter at this)”fail, we may have to use a little force.  Be that as it may, remember you represent your country and at the moment we need to proceed with caution.”

 

He stepped back, saluted his men, and descended the steps to his cabin.  Myers shouted orders, Davies swung the wheel to the co-ordinates given and the great Shenandoah swung out to sea.  Her sails gleamed white in the early morning sun, and she seemed to glow against the blue sky and sea as she sallied forth into the wind. 

 

The previous days foraging had been a great success, the brine barrels were full of fresh meat, and there was little need to salt down the fish as the sea was teeming with varieties of fish yet to be sampled.   The few inhabitants they had met had been pleased to barter with them and despite the language barrier they had returned to the ship well laden down with fresh milk, butter and cheese.

 

Adam entered the log for the commencement of the day and after a few moments he left his desk to find his book of poetry.   It was well thumbed through now, his constant companion and the last gift his father had given him before he had left for the sea all those years earlier.   Sometimes he felt that when he held the book he held the essence of his fathers spirit within it, and he would hold it in his hand just for the memory it held for him of the man he so respected and loved.

 

Beneath his feet he felt the shivering of timbers as the ship made her passage through the sea.  For a little while he remained standing with his book in his hand and his thoughts on those he loved, and then he came as though from a dream and slipped the book back upon the shelf.  He walked over to where he had set down his telescope and picked it up, his thumb rubbed against the emblem of the 7^th Cavalry and he remembered the day and circumstance in which it had been handed to him, and with a sigh he left the cabin, closing the door sharply behind him as he did so.  

 

…………………..

 

Daniel ate his breakfast carefully.  It seemed to him as though his stomach was constantly crying out for food but when it came it lay there heavy and unappetising.  He looked over at his new companion who was looking through some of his canvases as though searching for one in particular, but upon not finding it he let them all slip back into place one upon  another and turned to Daniel with a grim smile,

 

“I was thinking, Captain O’Brien, of taking a walk this morning.”

 

“It’s a fine morning,” Daniel nodded and smiled.

 

“I was also thinking, Captain, that perhaps you would care to walk with me?”

 

“Yes, that sounds a pleasant enough thing to do,” he drank some tea.

 

“I believe that we should have a purpose for our walk, don’t you agree?”

 

“Well, I’m not an artist -” Daniel said slowly, frowning a little.

 

“I thought that as we have found some seamen, we should now go looking for a ship.”

 

“Ah - yes, now I quite understand what you are meaning.  A very sound idea.”

 

He swallowed down the tea more quickly and stood up, wiping his mouth as he did so and straightening his rather shabby jacket.   Willoughby nodded, and raised his eyebrows,

 

“The local people tell me that there are some ships in the bay about two hours walk from here, do you think you have the strength to go that far?”

 

“I had the strength to walk to the prison and fight yesterday -” Daniel reminded him and Willoughby nodded and smiled,

 

“Of course.  I didn’t mean to sound patronising in any way.” he went to his desk and pulled open a drawer from which he took out his pistol, and also a telescope.  He looked over at O’Brien and grinned, “Best to find out the lay of the land, so to speak, and then we can make plans.”

 

“Do you think she may have sold the ship already?”

 

“It’s possible, if so, the Russians will have to suffer the loss.” Willoughby shrugged and led the way out of the house.

 

The island, bathed in the early morning light, was beautiful.  There were trees of every kind of variety growing there, and beyond the village through which they walked could be seen dense forests, consisting mainly of coniferous trees.   There were spruce, firs, larch trees, the slender silver birch, there were willows and cherry trees all intermingled with maples and rowans.   As their feet took them through the underwoods they found berry bearing plants from which they plucked plump fruits as they walked along merely for the fact that the fruit was there to be taken.

 

A fox slunk by, paused to glare at them, and then hurried into the undergrowth, birds sang and trilled their songs overhead.  For Daniel, after so long an incarceration, it was like drinking in refreshment for the soul.  His steps grew lighter and his vision for the future seemed only brighter as they passed along under the dappled shades of the trees.

 

“God’s in his heaven -

All’s right with the world.” he murmured.

 

“Browning’s ‘Pippa Passes’ …” Willoughby said, and stopped to glance heavenwards as though he would wish to see this God in his heaven. Then he sighed, “A lovely sentiment except that it is hardly true, is it?   God is in his heaven, but by thunder, it’s far from right in this world of ours.”

 

O’Brien said nothing, he placed a hand gently on the other man’s shoulder, and then walked on.

 

………….

 

It took longer than two hours to reach the best vantage point for them to see below and observe the bay that had been referred to Willoughby by the local men.   Now they settled down upon their stomachs and looked down at the sparkling waters to look at the three ships in the natural harbour formed in the bay.

 

“It’s The Baltimore -” O’Brien whispered, and his voice thrilled with the words, he could barely conceal his excitement.  “She’s there -”

 

“So is a Russian warship and -” Willoughby turned the telescope onto the other ship “Ah, a French frigate.”

 

“La Dauphine?”

 

“Yes, indeed.  You know her?”

 

“Oh yes, I know her.” and very quickly O’Brien explained how the French frigate had been used to get Cassandra on board his own ship.   “When I look back on the situation now, I do wonder at her foolhardiness, after all, there could have been a far worse fight than there actually was.”

 

“Cassandra Pelman does nothing that would endanger her, O’Brien. Believe me, she knew exactly how that fight would turn out. It would have been planned down to the very last detail.”  he passed the telescope to the American “What do you see?”

 

“There aren’t many men on board the ships -”

 

“They’re complacent.”

 

“I’d want to have more men on board taking into consideration that the prison has been overwhelmed and the prisoners are now free.”

 

“Yes, that’s what I thought.” Willoughby said thoughtfully and held out his hand for the telescope to be returned.

 

As O’Brien swung the telescope up to observe the buildings that seemed to be built in terraces upon the mountain side he paused a while to observe three individuals standing on a balcony overlooking the bay.  He gave a start and then passed it to Willoughby with the comment to him to look and see

 

“It’s her,” Willoughby said, “Cassandra Pelman.” he lowered the telescope, “Of course, she would be here, wouldn’t she?  I should have realised but -”

 

“But?”

 

“But there’s no sign of her brother, is there?”

 

O’Brien said nothing but waited patiently while Willoughby watched the three people as they went through their conversation there unknowingly observed. Finally he put down the telescope and looked at O‘Brien,

 

“I have to go and speak to her, she may know where Archer is -”

 

“Why should she know about where your brother is, Willoughby?  She’s only been here the same amount of time as I have - your brother has been missing for over a year and a half.”

 

Willoughby said nothing and yet his eyes remained fixed  upon the spot where Cassandra had been standing.  It made O’Brien wonder just how deep the friendship had been between them and for a moment he had his doubts as to just how much he could rely on the young Englishman.  However, Willoughby gave a shrug of the shoulders and turned to O’Brien with a wry grin,

 

“We know where the ship is, now we need to form a plan as to how to get you and your men back on board her and headed for home.” and he gave O’Brien a friendly slap on the arm and turned to wards the way they had come through the woodlands.

 

 

 

Chapter 51

Neither man was in a hurry as they turned and slowly made their way through the woodland back to the village. They talked about what they should do next, how they could retake the ship, and deal with Cassandra. They dropped into casual conversation and finally O’Brien told Willoughby a little of his own life, his marriage and some of his own adventures at sea. It was when he was telling Willoughby of the first time he had met Adam Cartwright that the Englishman gave a wry chuckle,

“I’ve heard of the man.” he glanced over at Daniel who was tipping some sweet berries into his mouth and savouring the taste, “That is, if he is the man who sent Metcalfe off to Russia when on a trip to Alaska?”

“That’s the man,” Daniel nodded, “one of the best friends I have ever known. I could trust him with my life.”

“From what Metcalfe told me about him I got the impression he was quite ruthless.”

“Perhaps so,” Daniel acceded, “But for the right principles shouldn’t one be?”

“Yes, no doubt.” Willoughby replied, “From the way Metcalfe talked about him it were as though he were Metcalfe’s Nemesis.”

“That could be one way of putting it,” Daniel said slowly, “Adam has had a strange life, one that I partly envy and partly admire. It had made him what he is, that’s for sure.”

“An admirable man then,” Willoughby pulled a twig from the undergrowth and began to behead some ferns and bracken with it as he walked through the shadier woods now. He glanced up at the sky, “Tomorrow there will be no moonlight, did you know that?”

“Yes -” Daniel smiled, of course he knew that, seamen interpreted the phases of the moon as easily as telling time by the clock, in many instances it was a matter of life and death to be able to do so.

“A good time then to plan our method of attack. When better than on a night as dark as the ace of spades?” he grinned and beheaded several plants in his enthusiasm.

Daniel smiled again, he had already a plan in mind, one that was not going to usurped by this impetuous young idealist’s ideas. He walked closely behind Willoughby now, enjoying the walk, birds were singing and once he saw a Peregrine falcon swoop down and then soar back up into the thermals. His heart felt lighter now than it had for some time, and he felt physically stronger due to the sense of well being he now possessed.

“What’s that -?”

Willoughby grabbed at his companion’s arm and dragged him back into the shadows. In silence they remained for some time as they strained to hear the sounds that had seemed many miles away but yet terrifying in their effect upon them. Both had recognised the sound of gun shots. There was the baying of dogs and the sound of cries, human and yet in some terrible way, utterly inhuman.

“Is it the village?” Daniel whispered.

“Hush!”

They stayed where they were, both feeling inadequate to help, and yet unsure as to what help it was that was needed. Finally Willoughby rose to his feet and pulled out his gun,

“I can’t stand any more of this, let’s go -” and despite the fact that they only possessed the one pistol, the two men began to run towards the sounds that were trickling through the forest and sending the birds squawking into the heavens.

They paused again once, when the worse of the sounds had come to an end. There were no longer the sounds of dogs nor of gunshots. Only the moaning which in some ways was far worse for it indicated a tragedy and one in which they themselves were helpless. They could smell burning now, the smell of devastation, burning wood and thatch.

Once again Willoughby grabbed at Daniel’s arm to pull him back into the shadows as men marched along the track some hundred yards ahead of them.

“Russian corsairs.” he whispered, “Heaven forbid, what have I done?” he groaned and sunk back further into the shadows.

“What do mean? Whatever you did, I was part of it too -”

“I wondered why the villagers never spoke about that prison, they must have been terrified that if they did so the Russian soldiers would come down on them. I co-erced them into telling me about it, and helping me - us - attack it. We thought it was too easy, didn’t we?”

“Yes -” Daniel nodded, and it had been too easily attacked, shabbily defended, quickly surrendered.

Neither of them spoke as they made their way through the trees and finally emerged at where the village had been. It still stood there, but a devastated symbol of destruction and vengeance as burning homes, shattered bodies and weeping women told the whole story of what had so recently taken place.

No one took any notice of them as they walked slowly through the chaotic mess that remained. An old woman was slowly gathering up her possessions that lay scattered over the road, as though by doing so she could put everything back to rights, as they had been before the attack. A woman nursed her child while her eyes stared blankly ahead of her and tears ran down her face and another child leaned close against her for comfort.

A man stepped out of the remains of his house and glanced over at them, the despair and fear on his face comment enough of what he was thinking. Both Willoughby and O’Brien could not find words to utter any comfort, but side by side made their way to the building that had been the Englishman’s home for some months. The door was off its hinges, but mostly it was intact. Someone had kicked a booted foot through every painting that had existed, leaving the canvases torn and scattered about the room. But compared to other homes they had come off lightly.

“You have to remember that until a few decades ago these people classified themselves as an independent nation, closely allied to the Japanese, but since 1855 they became Russian subjects.” Willoughby was saying as he put a chair to rights, picked up the kettle, examined his cache of - now broken - whiskey. “They have to be reminded of where their allegiances lie, it seems.”

“By fire and sword -” Daniel muttered.

“Well, isn’t that always the way -” came the reply. Willoughby picked up a shattered canvas and tossed it upon the pile of others, “And no art lovers among them,” he said wryly.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel glanced around the room, “I feel that it’s my fault. It all seems to have started from the time I came here -”

Willoughby said nothing, but he smiled without warmth and shook his head. It had all started much further back than that, he had wanted to say, way back to 1855, before they had ever put foot on these beautiful islands.

…………..

It seemed to Cassandra that things were slowly slipping out of her control. The two Russians were holding back on payment of The Baltimore on the premise that her brother, Jeffrey, should have been the one to carry out the transaction, as had been agreed during their previous negotiations. Now that it would appear he had disappeared, or died, (they were both rather sceptical with regard to the truth of either event) it would mean re-drafting the legal documents which would take up more time.

Nikisch was the more suspicious of the two, but also the one who flattered and complimented her the most while the Count drank wine, and watched with rheumy eyes and a bulbous nose. She knew, however, that the Count was the one with the brains that would be working out just how much the Baltimore was worth and just how much of a liability she could be to their future plans.

As she looked down at the ships in the bay she pondered on the idea of boarding the French frigate and heading for France. Leave the men their toy, and good riddance. A light tap on the door and she turned to see Vacek, who entered the room with a stealth that almost made her flesh crawl.

“What is it?”

“Do you recall my telling you that the prison was attacked yesterday?”

“For heavens sake, of what interest would I have in a prison. Why ?”

“The guards have confronted the ones responsible -”

“- and no doubt they’ve had to pay the price. A heavy one knowing how much you Russians love blood and gore.”

“Madam, I am not Russian,” Vacek replied with a pained expression on his face, and he sighed, “Some of the prisoners have been recaptured and relocated to a more secure place. They will go to Russia and no doubt work their lives away in the salt mines.”

“For heaven’s sake, as though I’m interested …” she murmured and opened her silver casket to pick out the jewels she would wear later that evening.

“The Captain of the Baltimore was one of the prisoners -”

“The Captain -” she paused, her voice faltered and she recalled a glimpse of the young handsome face that had smiled over at her during supper on La Dauphine, “I thought he was dead?”

“He may be,” Vacek shrugged, “He wasn’t among the prisoners.”

“So? What am I supposed to do about this, Vacek?” she held up emeralds against her throat, they flashed beautifully and emphasised the green in her eyes.

“Just that another person has also been located on the island, someone you once knew in France.”

“Oh my goodness, Vacek, can’t you just say what you mean instead of spinning it out in riddles. Am I supposed to believe that the whole world and his wife have arrived here in the Kuril Islands?”

Vacek thought over the comment, and decided not to mention that it was now she who was speaking in riddles. He cleared his throat,

“A young Englishman, Laurence Willoughby. He’s been living here some months apparently.”

She sat back and frowned in retrospection. Willoughby, the son of an English Duke, and very handsome and gallant. Jeffrey hadn’t liked him, but then Jeffrey had often taken against the men who surrounded her. She couldn’t now recall what it was that Jeffrey had disliked about Laurence but she had thought he was rather the kind of man she liked to be seen with, not that he had ever declared any affection for her. She sighed and shook her head,

“Too bad.” she murmured. “Let me know if you find him or hear anything more about him, Vacek. I’d like to - huh - see him again.”

He withdrew, closing the doors behind her. With a click of his fingers he summoned several men to follow him, their footsteps nearly echoed the sound of her heart beating.

 

Chapter 52

 

Adam surveyed his Officers thoughtfully as each one of them gave their opinion as to what course they should take next.  The ship was sailing close to the shore line in the hope of avoiding any prowling man of war that may be too curious as to her presence

He stifled a sigh.  There were times when the confines of cabin and ship became practically claustrophobic leaving him feeling depressed and as Joe would put it, definitely grumpy.   His body at times ached with the longing to be in the saddle and galloping across the Ponderosa on Sport, feeling the fresh wind in his face and the rich scent of sage and pine.  He longed for Hop Sing’s cooking, the smell of his father’s pipe and the sound of his father’s voice.  Sometimes he dreamed that he was sitting in the big room, a book in his hand, his father talking, the flames of the fire snapping in the hearth, Joe and Hoss engrossed in a game of checkers. 

 

“Captain?”

 

Myers voice broke through his reverie and he leaned forward in an attempt to appear interested.  He had obviously not heard what was being discussed by the look of embarrassment on their faces, and the way they looked at one another.

 

“I’m sorry, Mr Myers, what was it you were saying?”

 

“Er -” Myers had lost his confidence, he glanced at Hathaway who rubbed his nose and smiled feebly, “Yes, we were saying that we aren’t far now from an area here -” he pointed on the map of the larger island of Sakhalin “it’s a large bay shrouded by woodland.  We were thinking it a perfect place to hide a ship -” he paused and glanced up at Adam’s face to see if he could make out what the Captain thought of the idea.

 

“We could tuck the Shendandoah in here -” Hathaway indicated a small indentation close to the bay but shielded from it by a spur of land, abundantly forested, “and take a reconnaissance party round here, on foot, to see if there is anything there.” 

 

Adam’s dark eyes darted from one to the other of them, and he nodded thoughtfully

 

“It’s a good idea.   Tomorrow promises to be a really dark night, perfect for some clandestine dirty work. So I think we should put your plan into action as soon as possible.” he stood up and smiled, “Mr Myers, you will have charge of the ship.   Mr Hathaway will accompany me and several other men to check out the lay of the land.  Mr Kenney will be master of the boat awaiting our return.” he pushed his chair against the desk “I think we could safely say that we are nearing that spur, Mr Hathaway?”

 

“We should be nigh on upon it, sir.”  Hathaway glanced at Myers, surprised that the idea had been seized upon without discussion or debate.

 

“Excellent, let’s get to it then.”

 

Adam could have roared with delight at the thought of going on shore.   As much as he loved the ship he wasn’t in the frame of mind to be cooped up for much longer and the thought of using his legs through woodland brought an almost childish delight tingling through him.

 

As Hathaway had said the coastline indicated the spur of land into which the Shenandoah could quite easily nestle into without being too easily seen.  With the sails rolled and furled she anchored close to shore and the Captain’s boat was lowered.   It took little time to row and beach the boat.  Kenney and six men were left in charge, being given orders to be friendly to any local people but cautious so as not to cause any problems that would result in a horde of Russians to descend upon them.   Then the reconnaissance party disappeared into the trees.

 

It was wonderful to look above at the sky through the dappled leaves and boughs of such a variety of trees.  The sun glimmered and shimmered and cast shadows upon their faces, and Adam took a deep breath to inhale the rich smells all around him.   Despite his delight in walking through such a beautiful location he remained wary and cautious, pausing to listen to the sounds around him before proceeding on and paying constant attention to his compass.  

 

In less than an hour they had reached an area where the woodland thinned out and gave way to the rocks that formed the shoreline of the bay.   He stopped, frowned, and glanced at Hathaway who grimaced

 

“Well, sir, I think we’ve found her, haven’t we?”

 

“We have indeed.” Adam murmured and raised the telescope to his eye, he arched a dark eyebrow “Yes indeed, and also La Dauphine, the French frigate that Captain O’Brien referred to, now, what’s she doing there, I wonder.” he lowered the telescope and stood very still, thinking about the three ships that lay in harbour before he raised the glass once again to his eye “The Baltimore isn’t manned as such, barely a handful of men on her, probably assuming she’s safe enough with a Russian man of war slap bang beside her.  I wonder if -”he paused, and allowed his own thoughts to travel onwards, if La Dauphine were here, was it possible that Mrs Pelman was still on the island?   At the same time, and here his hopes soared, was it possible that O’Brien was here, on this island?

 

He swung his telescope to view the buildings that stood on the terraces carved from the volcanic rock from which the islands had been created. Then he, after seeing no one for whom he searched, returned to scrutinise the ships.   After a while he touched Hathaway on the arm and indicated that it was time for them to return to the boat.

 

He was smiling as he returned through the woodland, the whole ambience of the location touched his senses and thrilled the sensitive nature of him so that as he walked back towards the boat his thoughts turned to poetry and he was reminded of Tennyson’s words in the poem Oenome

 

“There lies a vale in Ida, lovelier

Than all the valleys of Ionian hills.

The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen,

Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine to pine,

And loiters, slowly drawn.   On either hand

The lawns and meadow ledges midway down

Hang rich in flowers and far below them roars

The long brook falling thro- the clov’n ravine

In cataract after cataract to the sea.”

 

His musings broke off as there came the sound of someone approaching who was not exactly light of foot, as twigs were snapping, small stones set rolling.  All of the men froze to the spot, and turned in the direction of the sound to see several men running, slithering and sliding through the woods and trees, jumping over fallen boughs, crashing thrown thin leafy twigs.   When these men saw the group of men below them they also froze and then recognising the uniforms, relaxed, and approached them, panting and sweating profusely.

 

“Sir?”  one man addressed Adam and saluted him smartly, “Harry Daniels, from the ship Baltimore.”

 

Then came several other men who saluted, introduced themselves, all from the Baltimore.  They numbered five in all.

 

Briefly, breathlessly, they told their story of the imprisonment, the rescue and the subsequent attack on the village.

 

“We’ve been running ever since -” a man called Davy Jackson panted, “not knowing the lie of the land we didn’t know where we were headed, ‘cept to go in the opposite direction of the prison.”

 

“It was hell, that’s what it was,” Harry said, wiping his brow on the back of his sleeve, “I know some Russian and overheard them saying that once they got the go ahead to leave for Russia the prisoners that were still alive would be taken to Siberia to work in the salt mines.”

 

“Not that there would be many of us left,” Davy added. “There were good men dying every day.”

 

“Captain O’Brien - was  he one of the prisoners?” Adam asked.

 

“Yes, sir, he and the Government man, Mr Hampton.  They died. Well, we thought they had -”

 

“Mr Hampton’s dead.” one of the muttered, “No doubt about that -”

 

“Yeah but we thought the Captain was too, but he wasn’t, he was just making it look like he was to get out, and then he led the attack on the prison to get us out.”

 

“With some Limey -” Harry added.

 

“Very well, and where is Captain O’Brien now?”

 

“He was with the Englishman reconnoitring -” Davy was still puffing, never a fit man the weeks of incarceration in the prison had taken their toll.  “They weren’t at the village when it was attacked.”

 

“Probably managed to avoid it,” Harry sighed, “could be anywhere, sir.”

 

Adam nodded and glanced up towards the way the men had come, his eyes swept the line where the trees merged with the sky, and then he looked at Hathaway,

 

“Take these men back to the Shenandoah and take care of them.  Get the boat back to the beach within two hours.”

 

Hathaway opened his mouth, raised his eyebrows and looked at the Captain anxiously, but Adam was already making his way through the trees and undergrowth, following the track that the seamen had provided in their descent to safety and freedom.

 

 

Chapter 53

 

From the window of the dwelling it was not difficult to see what was happening in the immediate vicinity, and Willoughby, by glancing up and through the aperture didn’t miss the tall young man and the four men with him talking to one of his neighbours.  For a moment he watched them, making sure not to be observed and keeping well into the shadows, but when the neighbour half turned and pointed towards his building he knew instinctively that being there was no longer a safe option.

 

“O’Brien, we’ve got to get out of here.” he said quietly and grabbed at the other man’s arm, “They’ll be here any moment, we’ve no time and not that many options open to us.  Quick, upstairs and onto the roof.”

 

O’Brien asked no questions, although he grabbed at the leg of the shattered chair as he passed by it, and followed close behind his companion.   They had reached the attic space just as Vacek and his men stepped into the house, they heard the broken door crash onto the floor, finally free from the fragile hinges.

 

Willoughby pushed open the window and squeezed through, swiftly followed by O’Brien.  The roof was old and had suffered some damage during the conflict but it held firm enough for them to inch themselves to the edge, and then make a leap for the roof of the adjoining building.  It duly collapsed under their duel weight sending up a shower of dust and debris in their passing.

 

Scrambling hurriedly to their feet they made for the doorway of the building and out into the street.  Vacek and his men had just reached the attic area of the first dwelling as O’Brien and Willoughby ran to the shelter of another property.  By leaning out of the window Vacek caught a brief glimpse of O’Brien’s blue jacket and with a very Slavonic curse scrambled back down to the floor, hurried down the stairs and out into the street.

 

A chair leg and one pistol, with very few bullets were not exactly the most adequate supply of ammunition to ward off the enemy O’Brien thought as they ran from one house to the shelter of another.  He saw the woodland ahead, and gestured to Willoughby that they should head for the shelter of the trees there but even as Willoughby nodded his head in agreement and turned in that direction a shot rang out, followed by another.  The bullet razed across Willoughby’s arm, bringing blood to the surface instantly, but it didn’t stop the young man from racing onwards behind the American.

 

……………….

 

The sight of such devastation made Adam stop in his tracks.  Ahead of him he saw a huddle of dwellings that had suffered the onslaught of a force far greater than he had originally anticipated.  He watched the occupants of the dwelling as they tried to assemble together the remnants of their lives, some suffering greatly from the shock of their losses.  He saw a child wandering in the middle of the street, blood flowing from a wound to her head and only a flimsy garment covering her little body, her bare feet were black from mud and blood. 

 

He stooped down and picked her up, took a handkerchief from his pocket to staunch the blood while at the same time using one corner to wipe away the dirt, and the tears.  She hugged into him, her crying stopped now in the bewilderment of seeing this strange face with the dark eyes, and feeling in the strength of his arms a warmth and comfort that brought forth a sense of some security.  She fingered a brass button from his tunic, while she put fingers of her other hand into her mouth and sucked on them.  As he walked further into the village she gradually sunk her head  upon his shoulder and fell asleep, her fingers still clasping the brass button.

 

He had seen it all before - Indian villages and white settlements, homesteads destroyed by the Indians and by other white men, greed, pride, and cruel injustice, as a wise King once said ‘man had dominated man to his own hurt’.  But it never lessened the sense of pain in his own heart, the knowledge that others suffered and had undergone so much loss.  A woman came wailing from a house towards him with her arms outstretched and very carefully he passed the child from his arms into hers and watched as she ran to the shelter of her home.

 

It was several paces later that he heard the gun shots.  He tensed, stepped back into the shadows of an overturned cart and looked around him to see what was the cause of the gunfire.  Two men running towards him, no doubt in order to take shelter from the self same vehicle, and one was familiar to him.  He narrowed his eyes, smiled briefly, and as O’Brien neared him reached out, grabbed at his arm and pulled him into the shadows.

 

“Why, confound you -” O’Brien yelled and raised the chair leg but before his arm descended to land a blow upon his ‘assailant’ he recognised the brown eyes that were looking amusedly at him, and his arm dropped in amazement, “You?  Here?” he breathed and was about to say more when Willoughby crashed against him just as several more gunshots whistled towards them.

 

“Is that your only weapon?” Adam indicated the chair leg, which caused O’Brien to blush rather and drop it immediately.

 

“I’ve a gun.” Willoughby said, “But only four bullets.”

 

Adam glanced back to the approaching five men, Vacek looking very determined and apparently unarmed, while the four other men walked slightly behind him, rifles in their hands.  

 

“Cut through this barn and make for the trees.   Do you know this area at all?” Adam looked at Willoughby, dark eyes piercing down into the Englishman’s face, and when he nodded Adam continued, “There’s a bay, a small beach, there should be a boat waiting for us.  Head down there -”

 

“I know where it is,” Willoughby nodded, touched O’Brien by the arm and scuttled on all fours from the shelter of the cart into the barn, he turned once to see O’Brien put his hand on Adam’s shoulder before he followed close behind him.

 

Vacek was now looking a little hesitant and unsure of where to proceed.  He turned his head left to right, and back again.  The four men watched their leader and were equally confused.    They slowly approached the cart, paused and made the mistake of turning back on himself and then stood, perplexed, in the middle of the road.

 

Adam didn’t hang around to wonder what the man would do next but slid from the shelter of the cart, through into the shadows of the barn and out through the gaping hole at the back of it.  Within minutes he was following O’Brien and Willoughby through the undergrowth and into the trees.  By the time Vacek had decided to look to the cart and barn there was no longer any sign of them ever having there.

 

There was no time now to enjoy the beauties of nature, to take pleasure in the way the sun dappled through the shrouds of leaves and boughs.  The three men ran almost recklessly through the forest and down finally to the beach.   Hathaway, obedient and reliable as always, rose to his feet from the boat, saluted his Captain and stepped aside to allow him, O’Brien and  Willoughby a seat and while they sat catching their breath and trying to get their thoughts in order, he gave the order to cast off and return to the Shenandoah.

 

“Well now, Captain O’Brien,” Adam said at last, “We meet again -”

 

“And it couldn’t have been at a better time, Adam.” Daniel exclaimed seizing hold of the hand that was extended towards him, “God knows how you came to be here, but -” he couldn’t speak any more, emotion engulfed him and he had to break off to control himself.  He turned to Willoughy, “This is Laurence Willoughby, Captain Cartwright.”

 

“Everything alright, Mr Hathaway?”

 

“Yes, Captain, all’s well.”  Hathaway replied with a nod and a grin.

 

“Very good.” Adam looked at Daniel, “Now all we have to do is get the Baltimore back for you, Captain.” and he laughed, a rather dry warm laugh that O’Brien remembered from of old and that gave him, as it always had, a sense that all would be well now.   All they had to do  was get back The Baltimore …

 

 

Chapter 54

 

Soames quickly checked Willoughby’s wound before leaving the officers to their discussion of recent events.  Scott brought in refreshments and left the cabin smiling hugely.  He had never seen his Captain  looking so happy and relaxed.

 

During the time they had taken to arrive back at the Shenandoah Adam had carefully arranged with Hathaway to ensure surveillance was carried out on the Baltimore, so once the Officers had been seen safely on board ship, Kenney was dispatched back to shore with Hathaway and enough men to form two parties of a watch guard on the other ship, sending messages back by semaphore during the hours of daylight that remained.  Kenney was a bright young man and had understood his Captains orders perfectly, and as a result carried them out exactly as was required.

 

Adam listened intently to the adventures, and misadventures of his friend, adding a little here and there where it was deemed necessary.  The two were so involved in their discussion that Willoughby found himself biting his nails, stretching out his legs and doing everything a man has to do to appear alert and interested when he was, in fact, extremely tired.  Adam feigned ignorance for a while, not merely out of mischief but also because the information Daniel shared filled in the gaps of his knowledge of events.  Eventually he turned to Willoughby

 

“So, Mr Willoughby, you know Mrs Pelman and her brother?”

 

“Yes, I do. I mean, I did.” Willoughby nodded, and launched into the story of his brothers, Archer and Charles, and how he had met Mrs Pelman and Jeffrey Metcalfe in Russia.

 

“How well did you know them?”

 

Willoughby looked thoughtfully at Adam, he saw the keen alert eyes, the slight smile in the curve of the lips, and he knew that this was a man who could discern an untruth as easily as a magnet attracts iron filings.  He shrugged,

 

“I got to know them as well as I needed to at the time.” he replied cautiously, “Metcalfe didn’t trust me, and I didn’t trust nor like him.   Cassandra, well, she’s a lovely looking woman but it doesn’t take a man long to realise her world revolves totally around her and her own interests.”

 

“And what were your interests, Mr Willoughby?”

 

“My interests were then what they are now, I want to find my brother.” he looked straight into Adams eyes then, and saw a flicker of empathy, before the Captain stood up and walked to the table and poured out some drinks for them all.  He waited for Willoughby to continue speaking, but the Englishman remained silent.

 

“You don’t think he could be dead?”

 

He turned, saw the flash of despair and pain pass over Willoughby’s face and knew and understood and sympathised.  No matter how long it would have taken he would be doing exactly the same had it been Joe or Hoss.  He passed the cup and saucer into the other man’s hands,

 

“No, of course you don’t,” he said quietly, answering his own question, “Why should you indeed, and nor would I until I had the most definite proof of it.” he now handed Daniel his coffee, before resuming his seat, “You’ve been on this island some time -”

 

“Yes. I’ve been painting, I’m an artist -” he paused, perhaps realising that what he had stated seemed rather a poor reason, he sighed, “I anticipated that Cassandra and her brother would be here eventually, and it seemed reasonable to think that Archer may have been here.  It’s taken time to search through all the islands, there’s still a number still to visit -”

 

“And this prison that Daniel and his men were held in?  You never thought to ask questions about it before?”

 

“What would you do, Captain, if you were on a strange island and told about a prison? Wouldn’t you merely expect it to be doing what prisons do?   Holding prisoners of people who have broken the law and deserve to be there? I didn’t expect it to be anything other than that, and the people with whom I lived never indicated it to be anything other than that either.  They spoke about a bad place, and a place they didn’t go which just enforced the idea in my mind.”

 

“But your brother could have been there -?”

 

Willoughby said nothing, but the way he raised his chin and looked defiantly at Adam was enough to indicate that he didn’t want to think along those lines, and refused even now to do so.

 

“Then as soon as Daniel appears and tells you about it, you organise the villagers to attack the prison -”

 

“It seemed the right thing to do at the time.” the younger man said quietly, “I tend to be rather impetuous at times, I suppose upon hindsight I should have thought about the matter a little more deeply, seriously, but I couldn’t think of anything else and time seemed to be important too.” he bit his lip, “I also thought that with some Americans involved there was some hope that Archer would be there, or - well - the fact is, I didn’t think that it would lead to what happened ….”

 

Adam said nothing, once again he found himself in sympathy with Willoughby knowing so well another young man who would no doubt have done the same, another young man equally as impetuous and hot headed.  He sipped  his coffee and looked over at Daniel who was appearing somewhat uncomfortable at the questions being asked of Willoughby.

 

“The thing is,” Adam said quietly, “we need to get those men out of the prison. We can’t go off with the ship knowing that those men are stuck there waiting to be sent to the salt mines.”

 

“I can’t expect  the villagers to help us again.  Not after what has happened.”

 

“No, we can’t.  So - any suggestions? Any ideas?”

 

Daniel moved restlessly in his seat, he looked at Adam but his friend had his eyes fixed on Willoughby who was struggling to think up some idea.  He glanced over at O’Brien,

 

“I guess I could go and see the Governor of this island.  Have a discussion about it, put it to him straight.”  he looked then at Adam, “These islands are partly owned by Japan and by the Russian authorities.  At present this particular island still has a Governor that cares for the various districts.*  I went to see him once before, to ask him about Archer and whether or not he knew anything about an English ship coming here, but he didn’t.  He did commission me to do a painting though, it was of the Shinto temple* to the south of the island.”

 

Adam didn’t look too interested in painting commissions, his mind had wandered elsewhere and he emptied his cup, replaced it on the table and stood for a moment or two with one hand tapping thoughtfully against his thigh while the other fingered one of the books on the shelf.

 

“It’s a good idea, don’t you think, Adam?” 

 

He turned at the sound of his friend’s voice, then he smiled and nodded,

 

“Yes.” he looked at Willoughby, “Tomorrow night, if nothing happens between times, we shall get that ship back.   That leaves us all day, twelve hours.  We’ll try the civilized way of doing things and hope that by the time we get the Baltimore, you will have a reasonable sized crew, Captain O’Brien.” he smiled again, and looked at Willoughby, “If it works, Mr Willoughby, will you be coming with us?”

 

“Where to?”

 

“Tokyo initially.”

 

Willoughby frowned, and looked wistfully at the view that could be glimpsed just through the port hole, he sighed,

 

“But Archer could be here …”

 

“And if he isn’t?”

 

Again that despairing look fell across the Englishman’s face, and he shook his head before looking defiantly up at Adam,

 

“Cassandra Pelman will know where he is, I’m certain of it.  If I confront her with what I know about her dealings -”

 

“You could have done that before -” Daniel said quietly  “When you were in Russia.”

 

“I didn’t know as much then as I do now, O’Brien.  This time I’ll find out if I have to shake it out of her.”

 

“Hmmm, I think you’d have to do more than that,” Adam murmured before placing a friendly hand on the other man’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to work this out.  In the meantime we need to get something to eat, and then sleep.  Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”

 

Chapter 55

 

In her most lavish gown Cassandra sat at the table and ate her food without tasting any of it.   During the course of time she had spent with the Russians with whom she was hoping to negotiate the sale of The Baltimore she had come to realise that even though she had spent a lifetime manipulating and corrupting men, she had also relied upon them.  None more so than her brother who had always been quick minded, intuitive and businesslike and a man that these Russians would have respected and to whom they would have submitted.  

 

It seemed that they had little respect for her although they paid her lavish compliments on her beauty and her gowns, there was no attempt to engage her in business talk about the deal they were supposed to be involved in now.  It was quite evident in the way they ignored her presence by conversing quietly together in their native language, as though she were not sitting right by their side.  The contempt they had for her was so obvious that they made no attempt at all to hide it.

 

She crumbled the bread slowly between her fingers and let the pieces fall onto the plate while she watched them and listened as they talked together, in Russian.  She could feel the heat of her temper rising, and the final straw came when the Count glanced over at her, before turning to Nikisch and making some comment that brought laughter from the other man.

 

She rose from her seat

 

“Gentlemen, the money you agreed to pay my brother and myself is due this evening.  Pay it promptly or the deal is off.” she stared at them both, before turning and walking angrily away.

 

“How dare they,” she fumed at her maid later, “How dare they talk about me in their own language as though I were not even there.  How dare they insult me like that -” she could barely get the words out of her mouth, her anger was so total, “If Jeffrey were here this whole matter would have been resolved by now.  They wouldn’t have dared treat him as they treat me.  Just because I am a woman -” and without stopping to pause for breath she picked up a hand mirror and threw it across the room.

 

“Madam -” the other woman hurried to pick up the shattered pieces, “Nothing is gained by losing control like this, you must think  of what to do rather than -”

 

“Don’t do that,” she hissed through clenched teeth, and grabbed the woman by the wrist, “Don’t you ever dare to lecture me.”

 

“I’m sorry, Madam, but -” she cringed back, rubbed her wrist and with fear now etched in her face, “I’m sorry.” she whispered.

 

“If the money isn’t paid within the hour the deal’s off.  I’ll - I’ll get on board the ship and take it back to America if I have to, I’ll -” she stopped her tirade when there came a light tap on the door, and she turned as Vacek entered the room.

 

“The Count sends his apologies and asks that you join them in the other room.” he bowed, clicked his heels and opened the door wider for her to pass through.

 

She straightened her back, stared at him as though she hated the sight of him, and without another word strode from the room, forcing herself to become composed and calm as she went to confront the men who held her future in the palm of their hands.

 

“She is a fiery one, that one ..” Vacek murmured, somewhat with admiration in his voice.

 

“Yes, too much so for her own good.” the maid replied still rubbing at her wrist and staring at her mistress with a look on her face that cautioned Vacek to say nothing more.

 

…………………

 

Hoss Cartwright very carefully ran his fingers over the edge of the wood he had been whittling, it felt as smooth as silk and he smiled with pleasure at the touch.  He turned the piece too and fro for a moment before he began to whittle at another piece very patiently, making sure that the slivers of wood fell neatly into the hearth.

 

“It looks good, Hoss,” Joe said as he stopped to admire the carving, “Who’s it for?”

 

“It’s for Ann and Candy’s baby.” came the reply, and Hoss glanced up and smiled, “A rocking horse is something that would suit a boy or girl, ain’t it?”

 

Joe nodded, before sitting down in the blue chair and watching Hoss for a few seconds in silence,

 

“You should get yourself a wife, Hoss.  Settle down and raise  your own kids.”

 

“Yeah?  Hark who’s talking?  Why not take a leaf out of your own book.”

 

“Uh-huh, might just do that, I’m working on it anyhow.”

 

Ben removed the pipe out of his mouth and looked at his son with raised eyebrows,

 

“You’re working on it?  Anyone I know?” he asked with a slight smile on his mouth as he tried to recall the number of times Joe was going to get married, was thinking about getting married, or nearly did get married.  His son wore his heart on his sleeve, there was no mistake about that, but commitment?  That was something else entirely, not that every girl who had nearly got him to the altar had cancelled on the deal voluntarily, there had been several very sad occasions when death had stepped in and, of course, there had been Little Moon.

 

“Too soon to say just yet,” Joe grinned, “but, Pa, remember what you said the other day about perhaps my heart was healing?  Well, I reckon that  you were right.  I think I’m well on the way to recovery.”

 

“That’s good,” Ben nodded, narrowed his eyes and looked at his son thoughtfully, “I’m glad to hear it.” he added.

 

“Sure would be something to be married by the time Adam got back home again, wouldn’t it?” Joe’s grin broadened into a smile, “Can you imagine his face?”

 

“He won’t believe it until he sees it for himself,” Hoss chuckled as he ran his hand over the wood, he sighed, “Sure wish he would hurry back though, he should be here, with us.”

 

Joe glanced at Ben and lowered his gaze at seeing the momentary blank look on his father’s face at Hoss’ comment.   Perhaps they didn’t talk about Adam enough now, he thought, perhaps they had got so used to his absence that when they did mention him it just hurt more, as if it were possible.

 

“Ann and Candy sure are happy in the house Adam gave ‘em,” he said in an attempt to turn the conversation, “People in town can’t stop talking about how generous he was to them.”

 

“Well, he had no need of the house, Joe.  Ann and Candy deserved it, they’d gone through enough in life as it is.” Ben murmured and picked up his pipe, looked at the bowl and stuffed more tobacco in it.

 

“Yeah, sure, I know that -” Joe replied, and pulled a face before pulling a book from the shelf.

 

“Where do you intend to live then, when  you get married, Joe?”  Hoss asked.

 

“Oh, on my own land.” he mused vaguely, not liking to admit he hadn’t thought that far ahead, “Or perhaps here -”

 

“Wal, jest might be that we wouldn’t want  you rattling around here with us two bachelors,” Hoss chuckled, “And ‘specially when Adam comes back, sides, what would Hop Sing do with a female woman in the house, huh?”

 

“Oh , I daresay he’d manage,” Joe replied and opened the book, stared at the words and allowed his mind to drift.  Not that it drifted far, only back to the day when he had held her hand, kissed her lips and knew that he wanted to marry her.  Victoria Shannon.  He smiled to himself, a slow secret smile that he thought was totally unobserved.

 

Ben frowned slightly as he puffed on his pipe, and thought over the meaning behind that smile of Joe’s.   It was time one of them married, he told himself, but it would mean changes, big changes, and he drew harder on the stem of  his old pipe as his own thoughts turned to the other changes his life had brought about over the years.

 

Perhaps, he thought, this is what happens when one becomes old?  One sits, thinks and wallows in nostalgia. He sighed and drifted into his own dreams.

 

………………..

 

“All’s well, Captain.” Myers said softly as he heard Adam’s footsteps approaching him on the upper deck.

 

“Anything from the beach?”

 

“Kenney signalled half hour ago with the shutter lamp, he said all was quiet, no change.”

 

Adam nodded and walked to the taffrail, leaned upon it and gazed up at the stars above.  It was dark, the moon was barely visible.   He bit his bottom lip and thought over the conversation he had had with Willoughby and O’Brien.   He liked the Englishman, it was an instinctive trust, but he felt that the young man was confused, uncertain as to what to do.  He must, Adam surmised, be feeling guilty as well, knowing that time had been wasted when he could have been putting it to better use.  He sighed, it was easier said than done, he realised and appreciated the fact that in a country as isolated as this one, with its Shinto background, confused political alliances, varied dialects, there would be difficulties in finding out the basic facts let alone the most important ones.

 

A warm breeze drifted past his face and he closed his eyes, raised his face to the breeze and recaptured a moment in time years ago when Joe had done something crazy, the illogical reasons he gave, the idealistic purpose he pursued, all so typical of his youth, and his ardour.  Joe, Adam smiled, Joe was so full of passion for things, so much like his mother in that respect and for just a fleeting instant Marie’s face came very clearly to mind, yet when he tried to keep it focussed there, so that he could really drink in her features, really capture them again as sharply as though she were alive before him, then it just shimmered away and disappeared.

 

“Are you alright, Captain?”

 

“Yes, thank you, Mr Myers”

 

They stood together, side by side, watching the dark outline of the beach, just a darker shadow barely discernible in the night time darkness.

 

 

Chapter 56

 

Count Alexandrei Zhukov struck a match and for a moment stared at the flame before putting it to the cigarette.  He was an attractive man but his thin lips and rather weak chin betrayed the fact that he could be cruel, his eyes were always watchful and alert, his bearing, as a Russian noble, was upright and slightly arrogant. He said nothing as the servants continued to attend at the table, pouring wine into their glasses and placing food before them on the gold rimmed plates.

 

“Well, what do we do?” Nikisch said quietly, “The woman is getting restless, she obviously wants her pound of flesh.”

 

“Yes,” Zhukov released the cigarette smoke in a pale gossamer cloud of smoke, “Yes, of course, that is to be expected after all.  I would have preferred to have dealt with her brother, if he was her brother -”

 

“Oh come now, Count, Metcalfe was certainly nothing other than her brother.” Nikisch raised his eyebrows, and glanced thoughtfully at the man by his side, “You dealt with him before?”

 

“Yes, I told you, several years ago.”  he held the cigarette between  his lips and stared at the far wall through a haze of smoke, “He was a clever man. His sister though, she is greedy.  She thinks her beauty alone will give her everything she demands.  But she hasn’t the brains of her brother.”  he frowned, stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it away, “Do you think he is really dead?”

 

“I made enquiries, she received a letter telling her so the day we arrived.  Apparently he was shot dead.”

 

“Ridiculous!”  Whether the Count thought it ridiculous that a man could be shot dead or that Metcalfe had put himself in such a situation prior to finalising this very lucrative deal was not clear.  No one spoke for a while, he shook his head, “How did he get shot?”

 

“He went to a town in Nevada, he was seeking an enemy of his - Captain Adam Cartwright -”

 

“Ah - I know this Captain Cartwright.  Remember the Lebedev affair?  Alaska?” he could see from Nikish’s face that the man had no idea of what he was talking about, so he sighed, to be surrounded by such imbeciles ? He nodded, “So this Cartwright shot him?”

 

“No, another man.  Captain Cartwright was not there.”

 

“Mmm,” Zhukov dismissed Adam Cartwright from his mind, someone placed another dish of food in front of him and he observed it thoughtfully, “The American ship is a good investment, the money we pay for it -” he paused, and frowned, “perhaps not all that we originally offered.  However, it will be worth it.”

 

“We could just take it,”  Nikish smiled slowly, “She is a mere woman, why waste time on her?”

 

Zhukov shook his  head, and picked up a silver spoon, his own reflection, upside down in the bowl of the spoon, stared back reprovingly at him.

 

“We could do as you say, but we are not thieves, Vassily.  We represent our country, our Czar.   We would not dishonour our name in such a manner.   Besides, this woman may be stupid, but she has contacts in America that could be useful to us later in time.   A beautiful woman is always a very useful person to have on one’s side.” 

 

Duly admonished Nikisch closed his mouth and said nothing.  Vacek placed another glass of wine by his elbow, and stepped back to take his place in the line up of servants on attendance at the table.  A little later that evening he was tapping on the door of the ’beautiful woman’s ’ room and telling her everything that he had overheard.

 

She listened attentively with her face growing ever more pale.  When he had finished speaking she looked at him thoughtfully,

 

“Why are you telling me this?  You’re Russian yourself, you’re -”

 

“Madam, I have told you before, I am not Russian. I am Croatian.  There is a difference.” he smiled slowly, his blue eyes softened as he looked at her, “And one thing that they said which is very true, you are very beautiful.”

 

She looked at him, frowned, and shook her head before she rose to her feet and walked to the window.  Outside it was dark, impossible to see the ships in the bay from such a distance,  she picked up a glass of wine and stared out into the night.  She had never felt more lonely, or so isolated.

 

“I need to get away from here.” she sighed, “Why don’t they just give me the money and let me go?”

 

“I shall get you the money,” he said quietly, “La Dauphine is in the bay, waiting for you to leave here.  She will take you wherever you wish to go …”

 

She looked at him, a slight frown on her face now,

 

“Who exactly are you, Vacek?”

 

He bowed, clicking his heels as was his custom, and smiled the same enigmatic smile that she had seen so often,

 

“I am, Madam, your servant, Vacek Krizanic.”

 

She said nothing but merely looked at him as though trying to see him as a person other than a servant, but he, content with having spoken the words he wished for now, turned and left the room.

 

…………………

 

“Alright, Captain?”

 

He turned, Soames had approached so silently, or he had been himself so deep in thought so as not to have heard him, that his voice caught him by surprise.  He smiled,

 

“Good evening, Doctor.  No patients to care for?”

 

“All’s well down below.” came the calm reply,  “You’re concerned about tomorrow?”

 

“To be honest, Doctor, I’m not really sure what will happen tomorrow.” he turned again to look out towards the beach, “Three ships in the bay … American seamen to get released from jail … and the possibility that Mrs Pelman and her friends on shore have the higher cards.  It’s really a wait and see, one step at a time, kind of game.”

 

“But you’re good at poker, aren’t  you?”

 

Adam smiled slowly,

 

“My Pa never approved of gambling,” he replied, and his laugh was soft, almost beneath his breath.

 

…………….

 

Zhukov and Nikisch observed the Croatian with barely concealed contempt.   The Serb/Croatian countries counted very little with them, Great Russia ruled over so much that these little satellite countries would, one day, be crushed by them.  Insignificant, troublesome at times, but like dogs without teeth.  The Count flicked ash from his cigarette onto the floor with a careless gesture of boredom

 

“Sir,” Vacek approached them once again, “A lot more is involved in this game than just a ship - is not that so?”

 

“What is involved has little to do with you” Nikisch shrugged, “You can go and tell your mistress that the money is safe.  She will have it tomorrow.”

 

Vacek pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly,

 

“All the money that has been agreed between Madam and Prince Gorchakov?”

 

“Of course.”

 

He looked from one to the other of them, his blue eyes cold and disbelieving.  Nikisch stepped forward,

 

“What exactly do you know about any agreement between Madam and the Prince?”

 

“Enough for it to be very useful for my Government,” Vacek replied, bowed politely and left the room, closing the doors silently behind him.

 

“Who is he?” Zhukov asked, “Find out about him -”  he rolled the cigarette between  his teeth, his thin lips curving around it finally as he walked straight backed and arrogantly to the window.

 

………………………

 

A new day dawned.   O’Brien and Willoughby sat at the table eating breakfast with Adam and Myers, slices of ham and eggs, fresh bread and strong coffee.  O’Brien was regaling them with the story of how he and Adam had enjoyed an Inuit bath during an Alaskan winter when the door opened and Mayhew stepped inside,

 

“The launch is ready for you, sir.”

 

Adam nodded, wiped his mouth on the serviette and rose to his feet,

 

“Mr Willoughby, time for us to visit the Governor and see about the release of the men.”

 

“One moment, Adam,” O’Brien stood up, “They’re my men, I should be going with Willoughby.”

 

Adam glanced down at Willoughby who shrugged slightly,

 

“I don’t mind who I go with - they aren’t my men, but I do want to ask about my brother.”

 

Adam frowned and looked over at Mayhew

 

“Any news from the men on the beach?”

 

“Nothings happened yet, sir.  They report that all is as it was when they last reported.”

 

“Mr Willoughby, if you would come with me, sir.  Captain O’Brien, I entrust the Shenandoah to your command, please make sure she is in one piece when I return.” he quelled any word from O’Brien by a stern look of reproof, picked up his hat as he passed his desk and placed it carefully over his dark head.  Willoughby, in silence, followed

 

Chapter 57

 

Kenney was the first to appear upon the beach as the Captain’s launch approached and he waded into the water to assist in getting the boat alongside the other already hidden away.

 

“Nothings happened since day break, sir.”

 

“Very good,” Adam straightened his jacket, made sure his hat was secure and glanced up at the dawn sky, “Retain a few men here and return to the Shenandoah, I’ve left Captain O’Brien in charge of the ship.  It’s possible that anything could happen while we’re on land here, so whatever orders he gives you -” he looked at Kenney and smiled at the polite nod of the head that he received in response, so he then pursed his lips and indicated to Willoughby that it was turn for them to go.

 

The way to the Governor’s residence was some way inland, and en route they passed several of the local people who eyed them with suspicion and anxiety.   A Shinto temple reminded them of the religious temperament of the people, and the western dress of some gave an indication of the Russian influence upon them.  When they reached the official residence Adam glanced up at the sky and then checked his watch, it was now 9 a.m.

 

The Governor was pleased to receive the two visitors from overseas.  Willoughby was announced as Lord Laurence Willoughby and for a fleeting moment Adam wished he could have been announced as Commodore Adam Cartwright, and smiled at himself for being so vain as to even think such a thought.

 

The Governor was a small man, Japanese, and elderly.  He was dressed in the traditional garments of a Japanese dignitary and bowed to them both in the manner of his culture, both Adam and Willoughby bowed low from the waist, their eyes lowered as eye contact was considered insulting.

 

“Please to sit down.”

 

They sat, servants shuffled in and provided them with green tea in small china cups which they drank.  The Governor looked at them both and nodded before asking them why they had come to see him.

 

“It may have come to your attention, sir, that some American seamen have been held prisoner in one of your prisons, and -” Adam paused as the Governor raised a hand.

 

“What prison?”

 

Adam glanced at Willoughby who supplied the name and district in which the prison existed, and the Governor frowned slightly, nodded and asked Adam to proceed.

 

“A few days ago one of the villages in this district was the subject of a brutal attack by Russian forces and -”

 

Again he paused as the Governor raised his hand.

 

“I was told that an attack had been made upon the prison, the prisoners had escaped, violent criminals, and the instigators of this attack had to be punished.”

 

“Excuse me, sir,” Willoughby straightened his back and looked into the old man’s face, “I happened to be the one who encouraged the villagers to attack the prison because - I am sure you are unaware of what is actually happening - but American seamen had been taken there against their will, held prisoner, left to die and buried in mass graves.”

 

“You are mistaken, Lord Willoughby, nothing like that is happening.  Why should such a lie be said about this?  There are only criminals taken there at my order.”

 

“You are being misled, sir.” Willoughby said honestly, “I have witnesses to testify to what I am saying.  I would beg of you, please, to listen to what the American Captain has to say to you.”

 

The Japanese Governor turned regally to Adam and his dark eyes looked thoughtfully at him, he inclined his head and Adam began to speak. He explained the reason why he had come to these Islands, the concerns of the American Government in Tokyo about the ship that had gone missing, the discovery of the seamen who had been incarcerated and witness to the deaths of their companions, how a friend of his had survived only by pretending to be dead and as a consequence taken to the mass graves.

 

The Governor listened with a bowed head, and for a moment, after Adam had ceased to speak, said nothing.  Then he raised his head

 

“Do you play chess?”

 

They both nodded and the old man nodded slowly in turn,

 

“The islands are currently like a chess board, the players are Japan Government and Russian Government.  I am just a chess piece moved here and there, soon to be displaced and removed.  Things happen now that I know nothing about, that confuse me, it is not what is customary for my people, you understand?   Russia moves a piece here and there, I wait in turn for Japan Government to move but -” he paused, “in this instance is example of things happening of which I know nothing.”

 

He called one of his aides, a younger man dressed in western clothing who darted curious looks at Adam and Willoughby.  The Governor spoke to him in his own language and the aide scuttled away.

 

“We must wait for a while.” the Governor murmured, “Tell me, please, Lord Willoughby, why are you still here?  You came a while ago to paint a picture which pleased my wife very much, but I thought you would not be staying on the island much longer?”

 

“I hadn’t intended to stay much longer, sir.” Willoughby sighed, “But I -” he paused and glanced over at Adam, “I wanted to find my brother, Archer.  You may recall I asked you before if you had heard anything about him, or his ship?”

 

“I remember, and I also remember that I told you that I had no knowledge of him.” the reply was sincere, and direct.  It wasn’t what Willoughby wanted to hear, and he lowered his head.  “I made enquiries, Lord Willoughby, on your behalf.   There has been no English ship in these waters for many years.”

 

“I was hoping that, perhaps, your information would be wrong.”

 

“I am sorry.”

 

There was a silence, not exactly uncomfortable but it did go on for long enough to eventually become so.  Adam was about to speak when the aide returned and spoke rapidly to the Governor, who replied in a tone of voice and with such speed that it was like a Gatling gun going off, there was even a hint of ruddiness glowing in his cheeks and both Willoughby and Adam were quite sure it wasn’t because the man was happy at what he had heard.

 

Another pause as the aide left the room.  The Governor scowled, then slowly composed himself.  He looked at Adam,

 

“I have made enquiries.  You are right and I was wrong.” he bowed from the waist in apology,  “There will be a very serious investigation into what has happened. It would seem our Russian players of this particular chess game have exceeded their limits.  This is not good for universal hope of good communication.” he rose from his chair, “I have given my aide orders to free your seamen.  Immediately.” he turned to leave the room, then looked at Willoughby again, “You have a brother, called Charles Willoughby?”

 

“Yes,” Laurence Willoughby nodded, confused at this sudden and quite unexpected question, “Yes, I have.”

 

“A letter has arrived from him for you.  It will be given to you when you leave.”

 

“But how - I mean -”

 

“We may be far from your world, Lord Willoughby, but we are not without contact with it.  This letter was sent by despatch to Tokyo, and put in the diplomatic bag from Tokyo to me.  It arrived yesterday afternoon.  A runner was going to deliver it to you today.” he turned to Adam and bowed, “Honourable Captain Cartwright, I hope you find your missing ship now that you have your missing men.”

 

“Oh, I’ve found the ship, sir,” Adam replied promptly, “It’s getting it back that’s the main problem now.”

 

“I do not understand -”  the old man turned to give Adam more attention, his curiosity was again sincere, his interest genuine, “You have found your missing ship?  It is here, is that what you mean?”

 

“Yes, sir.  It is here, and I do intend on getting it back.”

 

He looked from one man to the other, then bowed his head, his shoulders seemed suddenly too frail to support the weight of this particular problem and he sighed

 

“The chess game leads to checkmate -” he murmured, “I am unsure how to proceed now.  Russia will soon be the Government here, but Japan keeps some controls too, but America - we cannot afford to have an incident now involving America -” he shook his head, “Tell me, could there be a mistake?”

 

“I wish I could say that there was, but right now, sir, our ship is in one of your harbours alongside a Russian man of war and a French frigate.  There’s a woman here intent on selling it to -” he paused, and looked at Willoughby who was listening intently, and then looked again at the Governor, “Can we ask for any help from you?”

 

The old man folded his hands within the wide sleeves of his kimono, he shook his head,

 

“No, I can offer you no assistance beyond what I have already given.  It is better for my people to have no further involvement” he turned to Willoughby, “Lord Willoughby, thank you for your visit to these islands.  Honourable Captain, farewell.” he bowed to them both and hurriedly made his exit.

 

Adam released  his breath and then looked at his companion,

 

“Well, I guess there was no harm in asking -” he said quietly.

 

“Poor chap, he’s caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.  I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes right now.”

 

They left the room and as soon as the doors closed behind them an aide came to Willoughby, bowed and gave him an envelope with a heavy embossed seal on it.  Laurence surveyed it thoughtfully, drew in his breath and bit  his bottom lip.

 

“It’s from my brother, Charles.”  he said quietly.

 

“Do you want to read it here?”

 

“No.  Later… if you don’t mind.” 

 

They walked in silence from the building and as they descended down the steps a man in black livery hurried towards them, bowed in the customary way,

 

“Honourable Captain, I am to tell you that your men are free.  In a short while they will be at the entrance of the temple where you can meet with them.” he bowed again, and then hurried away.

 

Adam watched him go, then gave a slight shrug of the shoulders.   He glanced up at the sky and surveyed the sun, once again pulled out his watch and checked on the time. It was now 11.30 a.m.

 

The gardens of the Governors residence were pleasantly laid out and Willoughby excused himself while he walked to a bench beneath a large red maple tree.  He broke open the seal, and unfolded his brothers letter.  There was little in it, but enough for him to bow his head, put his hand to his eyes and weep. 

 

Adam turned his back on the scene, the man was distressed, that was obvious, but he knew that any overtures of sympathy from him now would be embarrassing.  His instinct was to wait for the Englishman to compose himself and tell him, should he wish to do so, in his own time.

 

They walked, in silence, some distance together towards the temple.  Both kept their eyes straight ahead.  When they had reached the temple entrance where they were to meet up with the men, Willoughby cleared his throat, and Adam waited in expectation of bad news.

 

“I - the letter from my brother - Charles.” Laurence Willoughby licked his lips, and glanced almost shyly at Adam, “he wrote to tell me that Archer’s body has been found.”

 

“I’m sorry.  That wasn’t the news you wanted to hear, was it?”

 

“No.” the one word trembled slightly, again he cleared his throat, “His ship was caught in a storm off the Atlasov Island, we can see it from some areas here -” he broke off and frowned “he and his men were taken to Siberia, he died in the salt mines.” he snapped the words out, cold and stark and very real. He shook his head, “They killed him. The Russians - killed him.”

 

“Why would they take the trouble to let your brother know that, or even return his body?”

 

“Diplomacy.  Scratching each other’s back.  One favour in return for another.  I don’t know .. I only know that politics stink.  I came here to find my brother, I was sure from what I was told that there was a link with Cassandra Pelman and her brother - now, this is tantamount to telling me to back off.  All this time kicking my heels here and for nothing.”  he put a hand to  his brow, ran his fingers through his hair so that it stood on end, “Archer’s dead,  he’s been dead for months - this letter was dated weeks ago.”

 

“Communication’s always slow -” Adam replied and placed a conciliatory hand on the other man’s arm, “I’m really sorry.”

 

“He was the best brother -” Laurence mumbled and pulled his arm free and walked several paces away.

 

It was at that moment that the bedraggled sight of The Baltimore’s seamen came into view so that Adam’s attentions were turned towards them.  Willoughby slowly folded the letter back into its envelope and slipped it into his pocket.  He was bereft, and with a despairing glance up at the sky, started to walk away from where the group of men were gathered.

 

“Willoughby, where are you going?”

 

“I don’t know.” the young man shrugged, “I don’t know, I don’t even care now.”

 

“You can’t stay here -”

 

Again he shrugged, put his hands in his pockets and turned listlessly away, only to be stopped by Adam’s hand on his arm,

 

“Come along with us now.  The Governor more or less gave you your marching orders in there anyway.  And there’s still some unfinished business to attend to here -”

 

“Unfinished business?  What do you mean?”

 

“Mrs Pelman -” Adam quirked an eyebrow, “She’s here on this island, and I don’t intend leaving it without seeing her first.”

 

Willoughby’s eyes widened, a light shone momentarily in their depths, he nodded.

 

“Oh yes, of course, Mrs Pelman.” and he nodded again, but this time with more conviction.

 

 

Chapter 58

 

Daniel O’Brien had watched the launch leave the ship with  a deep sense of resentment niggling in  his stomach.  Willoughby hadn’t even seemed bothered about the seamen, so why on earth had Adam insisted on taking him.   Those men, O’Brien told himself, were his responsibility, apart from which Adam’s duties lay with the men on this ship, and the Shenandoah herself.  He tapped his hand against the taffrail in annoyance and irritation, and turned away to observe the sea on the lee side of the ship.

 

Soames watched the young man with a rather thoughtful expression on his face before he approached him, smiled and asked if he could walk the deck with him, to which request Daniel complied.

 

They walked in silence for some while, observing the motion of the waves, the beauty of birds in flight, some seals basking on the rocks just a little distance away.  Finally Soames paused to lean against the ships’ side, Daniel stopped beside him, his face still sullen from what he had felt was a personal rebuff.

 

“You’ve been through quite a lot recently, young man,” Soames said quietly, “I can see from your complexion and the way your clothes hang on you that you’ve suffered quite a bit.”

 

“Yes,” Daniel nodded, and stared down at the sea, he heaved a sigh, “I saw some brave men die, and die needlessly too.  It’s not enough to die in battle or in storms at sea, but to rot in a prison like that one -” he shook his head, “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” he began to wring his hands, and he gulped, his breath quickened and Soames could see the pulse at his throat beating faster, the emotional memories of that experience were very raw, very fresh, it would be some time before Daniel would sleep well at nights.  “It was as though we were just left to rot and die.” his voice was lowered a little, “It was inhumane.”

 

“Yes, I was talking to some others who were with you there, they’re my patients now.  I can’t guarantee how well they’re going to pull through.”

 

Daniel didn’t notice the quick look of inspection Soames cast over him, he was too intent upon observing the seals to even realise the scrutiny he was  under by the kind hearted doctor.  For a little while they were silent again, and then Soames smiled,

 

“Adam must have a very high opinion of you, Captain O’Brien.”

 

“Really?  What makes you say that?” O’Brien said sharply for his thoughts had been quite the reverse, and he looked at  Soames as though the man were stupid.

 

“He’s left you in command, hasn’t he?   That’s a lot of responsibility.”

 

“My responsibility is with my own men -”

 

“They’re in that prison you’ve just left, sir, I doubt if - should the attempt to get them released fail - whether you would have wished spending any more time there, would you?”

 

Daniel stared at Soames as the words slowly sunk in to his brain, he turned away feeling ashamed.  As usual Adam had been thinking of him, Daniel O’Brien and his welfare, before his own.  Daniel gulped again and shook his head,

 

“I doubt if I could have gone near the place again.  The last time was bad enough - .  The smell alone -”  he shivered, “it clings to one, you know?” he looked at Soames helplessly, and the doctor nodded, “Just being out of the place was good enough I would have thought, but there seems to be something in the back of my mind that keeps dragging me back.”

 

“How long were you there for?”

 

“I lost track of time, but it was weeks.”

 

Soames put a gentle, kindly hand on the other mans arm, nodded understandingly and then turned to observe the seals who were now plunging in and out of the water and looking at their observers with large black moist eyes and quivering whiskers.

 

“”I’m not going mad, am I?”

 

“Not at all.” Soames smiled, “Weaker men may, I think there are several of the men here now from your ship who are suffering from their weeks of incarceration there, but I doubt if you have to worry about that, you just need some distraction to take your mind from it.  Being here, responsible for the Shenandoah, should be a good thing for you.”

 

Daniel clenched his fists tightly behind his back, resentment had gone to be replaced by a sense of guilt. He couldn’t meet Soames eyes but turned around and began to walk to the starboard side of the ship.  Soames excused himself and returned to his patients.

 

……………..

 

The gold shone dully in the light of the room.   For some time Cassandra had stood and looked at it, she had ran her finger down each ingot and felt the thrill of ownership trickle down her spine.  She had felt a bubble of laughter welling up inside her as she had counted the bars, had taken them out of the leather case one by one, marvelled at their weight, and replaced them.

 

“I thought there would be more than this -” she had said to Zhukov who had shrugged, and grimaced,

 

“I can only give you what I have got,” he had replied in a surly voice, “This is a small fortune, Madam, if you do not find it to your liking then we shall take it back.”

 

“Would you?” she had turned to look at him with her chin raised and her eyes showing some contempt for him, “And lose the ship altogether?”

 

“Do you think so?” he had replied with a slow smile, and had met her gaze with a challenge in his own eyes that reminded her of the conversation she’d had with Vacek the previous day.

 

It was mid-morning and a pleasantly warm day.   She walked to the balcony and looked down at the harbour, and then to the horizon before turning to look at the gold.  Now she crossed the room to close the lid of the case and turned a small key in the lock, and as she did so the door opened and her maid appeared,

 

“Where is Vacek?” Cassandra asked and the maid shook her head,

 

“He hasn’t been seen all day, Madam.”

 

“He has to be somewhere,” she replied with a cold frost in her voice, “Tell him to report here to me, immediately.  Then come back and start packing my clothes.  Get someone to ask the Captain of La Dauphine to see me here as soon as possible.”

 

The other woman looked at her mistress with something like loathing in her eyes, but Cassandra was already returning to look down at the harbour and to watch as the two Russians stood talking together on one of the terraces of the garden.   She didn’t move even when the door finally closed and left her alone in the room.

 

………………

 

Willoughby followed Adam as a lost child would follow his father, with complete trust and unquestioning submission.  He was so shocked at the news his brother’s letter had contained that he couldn’t think beyond the fact that Archer was dead; that he himself had spent months of fruitless searching on these islands only to learn that Archer had already been dead many weeks before.  He stopped when Adam stopped, didn’t hear a word that the other man said to the seamen who turned off down into the woodland to follow a track to the beach.  When Adam resumed walking, so did Willoughby.

 

“They’ll be alright once they get on board the Shenandoah, the doctor will take good care of them and once we are out at sea again and they can resume their duties it will soon blow the horrors away.” Adam said conversationally to the silent man striding along beside him, “Of course, by rights you should have gone as well.  There’s very little point in your coming along with me.”

 

Willoughby frowned, he paused in mid-stride and looked at Adam as though he needed to hear what had been said again because the first time had seemed like nonsense.  Adam stopped and looked at him

 

“Didn’t you hear what I said?”

 

“Yes, I - no - not really.”

 

“I said there was little point in your coming along with me.  You’ve had a shock and it would be better for you to get back to the ship with the men.”

 

“But I thought we were going to see Cassandra Pelman ?”

 

“I am.  I’m not so sure whether you will be coming with me though.” 

 

“Of course I’m coming as well,” Willoughby replied with some heat in his voice, “It’s all her fault and that wretched brother of hers -”  he paused, swallowed words that he would have regretted and drew in a shuddering breath.

 

Adam frowned, he tugged at his earlobe and looked puzzled as though he were confused about something, then he shook his head,

 

“Tell me again what connection you have with Mrs Pelman?”  he asked pleasantly, “I’m curious about that, you never actually made it very clear before when we discussed it.”

 

“That’s because I never mentioned it, it was you and O’Brien who were talking about her all the time.  Well, not all the time -” Laurence licked his lips, “Look, I’m the loose cannon in the family, the son that doesn‘t really come up to much, No 5 on the list so to speak.” he frowned, grimaced again, “My brother Charles is in the diplomatic service in London, quite well connected -” he paused and frowned, “Very well connected actually.  The powers that be were worried about a ship that had gone missing, one of their prototypes in fact.  I’m an artist by profession, and in all honestly, Captain, it’s a profession I love.  Anyway, one day I got a letter from Charles asking me to contact a woman - Cassandra - casually of course, and develop a friendship with her, see if she would open up and talk to me about things.”

 

“Missing ships -”

 

“Yes, missing ships, exactly.”

 

They had resumed walking again now, their feet taking them in the direction of the house that overlooked the bay.

 

“So, what happened next?”

 

“I got another letter from Charles, my brother Archer and his ship had disappeared.  I was getting along pretty well with Cassandra, not so well with her brother though.  He was quite an unpleasant character.  I found out quite a lot really, Cassandra talked a little, I spied around, gave money to servants for information, all that kind of thing.”

 

“What made you decide to come looking for Archer here?”

 

“Something Cassandra said once - she said you could hide anything here.  I think that’s where I made my mistake, I said - ‘Like a warship for example?’- she laughed and said ‘Oh yes, as easy as anything.’ but her brother looked furious, he looked at me as though I had just signed my death warrant. It was actually quite unnerving.    I sent information back to Charles and he said that the last they had heard from Archer was that he was approaching the Chishoma Archipelago.”

 

“Which our friend the Governor denies any knowledge of - what did he say? No English ships for years?”

 

“He’s lying or he just wants to stay in ignorance of what is going on.”

 

“Oh I daresay he knows enough and is paid enough to forget what little he knows.” Adam replied, “So you came here?”

 

“Yes. They - Cassandra and her brother - disappeared, went the very next day after that conversation.  I found out later they went to France.  Several odd things happened to me - like chimney pots falling on my head, almost;  horse drawn carriages nearly mowing me down in the street;  it happened too often for comfort.  Charles recommended I returned back to London, but I thought that if Archer were here, he would need me.  I had to find him for my own peace of mind.  He was a good brother, Captain, I admired him enormously”

 

Adam nodded, he knew that for an Englishman Willoughby had gone as far as he could to admit his great love for his brother.  He said nothing more, but continued walking up the steep slope towards the house, Willoughby matching him now step for step.

 

“I knew they would come here eventually.  Before I left Russia I had a communication from Charles saying they had heard that there were plans to steal and sell another warship.  So I had two motives for coming here really.”

 

“Were you in love with her?”

 

The question was blunt and to the point, Willoughby blushed just a little, Adam could see the colour above the collar of his shirt,

 

“I was infatuated with her I admit that - but after a while I found that she made me feel too uncomfortable for anything more.   The feeling I had for her just began to fade away, like the memories of a very pleasant dream that one can’t quite remember except for the bitter aftertaste it had left.”

 

“Did you think that seeing her here, she would tell you where your brother was?”

 

“I suppose so -” he sighed, “But I know where he was now, as soon as I saw that reference to the salt mines I knew that at some time Archer had been here, long before I ever came, stuck in that prison before being sent to his death in Russia.”  he put a hand to his brow as though to wipe away some perspiration, and once again Adam turned his head away in order to spare the man any embarrassment from his display of emotion.

 

 

 

Chapter 59

 

 

Cassandra’s maid was not unattractive and she was young. She was French by birth and had travelled with her mistress on La Dauphine, boarding The Baltimore and enjoying the frisson of danger and excitement the adventure had brought her. For the time during the journey the two women had enjoyed confidences, laughter and in some strange way a form of friendship. A form of friendship however that had faded like mist before the summers sun once they had arrived at the Kurils and taken up residence to await the Russians.

Sophia had become disillusioned with her mistress when the line became so indelibly drawn between them, and her place, on the other side of the line had been made so clearly evident. She had become further disgruntled when she had become infatuated with the Croatian, Vacek, and he - ah well - he had become infatuated with her mistress. The more advances she made towards him, the more Vacek talked about Cassandra, her beauty, her aura of presence and power, the plans they had made between them.

Every hour of the day the young woman had waited for a glimpse of Vacek, and most of the hours were wasted either because he never appeared, or because when he did all he wanted to talk about was - Cassandra. Only the previous evening he had entered the room to declare, with typical Croatian swagger, that without his help Cassandra would be lost, her ventures all for nothing, the gold - pah, unattainable. Sophia listened and inwardly seethed.

She found the French Captain easily enough, he liked women and so she went where the kind of women he liked would be found. Upon giving him Cassandra’s orders she then went to find Vacek.

………………..

O’Brien could see the men on the beach carefully taking their places on the thwarts of the boat, and his heart sunk at the pitiful sight of them. Soames, still hovering close by in attendance upon the young man, drew near and watched anxiously. The seamen from the Shenandoah were having to assist some of the men into the boat where they seemed in a state of near collapse. He shook his head in dismay, and turned away to look up at the sky, at the creation and beauty of a blue cloudless sky with birds hovering and diving, rather than at the abject despair of those men.

“I’m supposed to take back my ship with them -” O’Brien sighed, and shook his head, “I don’t think that’s going to happen, do you?”

“They’re going to need a lot of help,” Soames agreed, “I’ll get things ready for them in the sick bay.”

“Mayhew?”

“Yes, Captain?”

O’Brien looked at the eager faced young midshipman and managed a weak smile, he could remember when he was also once as eager, and, once as young.

“Ask the cook to make plenty of soup for the men coming on board now.”

Mayhew gave a snappy salute and hurried down to the galley. O’Brien watched as the men bent their backs to their oars, good healthy seamen from the Shenandoah, and huddled on the thwarts were men who had been just as healthy once, but were now weakened by weeks of deprivation and malnutrition .

He turned at a footstep behind him and saw Myers approaching him, the lieutenant saluted as a matter of courtesy and then stood by Daniel’s side, watching the boat drawing closer,

“Poor wretches,” he murmured, “They’ve suffered -” and his voice trailed away in sympathy as he watched them.

Daniel couldn’t speak, he remembered watching Hampton fading away, giving up hope and just dying by inches. All those men, he closed his eyes at the memory of the grave and the bodies pressed about him, the smell, the stench and without a word he turned upon his heels and walked away, hurrying to the Captains cabin and falling into the chair by the desk. He sat there for some minutes struggling to breathe, loosening his cravat in order to get some air. The knock on the door was so light that he barely noticed it, but it was the steward who entered, he placed a glass of port by Daniel’s elbow

“Doctor’s orders, sir.” Scott said kindly, “and to tell you that your men have come on board now, all present and correct, sir.”

He couldn’t speak, but nodded his thanks to the well meaning man. He picked up the port, it was good quality he could tell that from the smell, and it crossed his mind that he had had a steward on board the Baltimore. He wondered where the man was now …

……………..

Russian seamen were leaving the man of war to board the Baltimore. Obvious plans were now taking effect to prepare her for open sea. In the shadows of the undergrowth two of Adam’s men took note, tossed a coin to decide which of them would relay the news to Hathaway and Kenney, and which would stay to keep watch.

By the time Hathaway was signalling to the Shenandoah the news that there was activity on board the Baltimore and requesting orders, Adam and Willoughby were mounting the steps towards the house, Nikisch and Zhukov were sitting down to lunch with Cassandra, and Sophia found Vacek.

 

Chapter 60

 

It was while Adam and Willoughby were mounting the steps to the building that Sophia found Vacek Krizanic in deep conversation with the French Captain of La Dauphine.  Watching them both from within the shadows of the plants that grew in the lush gardens of the house, it was not difficult for her to interpret the body language of both men and come to the conclusion that some kind of agreement was being struck between them. 

 

She waited until the Captain had turned and was returning to the harbour before stepping out from the shadows, making Vacek misplace a step in surprise,

 

“What?  You here,  Sophia?”

 

“Madam sent for you,” she replied with a severity in her voice that was unusual for her when she was with him, “she is angry with  you, you have been absent all morning.”

 

“What concern is that to you?”

 

She paused, frowned a little, then turned towards him.  She was not intelligent, but she was a woman, and pretty, and even if she didn’t know how to explain or put into words what she thought, she knew there were other ways of gaining knowledge.  She moved closer to him, her body inches from his, and she smiled

 

“You and the Captain - you are friends, qui?”

 

“No.  We are not friends.” he spoke quietly, and pushed her impatiently away, “You think you have seen something, you have seen nothing, you understand me, you have seen nothing.”

 

She sidled closer to him, placed a hand upon his arm and caressed it gently,

 

“I am not clever, that is true, but I am not blind, mon cher.”

 

He once again pushed away her arm, and hurried up towards the house, his brow knitted in fierce concentration.  Exasperated now she stamped her foot,

 

“Oh, you are a fool, Vacek.  She doesn’t care for you, don’t  you realise that?  She plays games with men like you.  All she is interested in is the gold.”

 

“Gold?” he paused, and turned towards her, “She has the gold?”

 

“Yes, she has the gold now.  I have seen it.”

 

“So?  You have seen it, huh?”

 

“Yes, a lot of gold.”

 

“And what is she going to do with this gold?”

 

“She is going to take it with her on La Dauphine.  We sail for France today.”

 

He smiled now, and reached out for her hand which she willingly placed within his own,  for she smiled back at him in return.

 

“Come, little bird, let us help Madam.  The gold will be heavy, too heavy for her, or you, to carry all the way to La Dauphine I think.”

 

…………………………….

 

Conversation was rather stilted during the meal between Cassandra Pelman and the Russian envoys. It seemed as though now the transaction between them had been completed all parties had mentally withdrawn to their own side of the invisible line between their countries.  Zhuhov and Nikisch spoke occasionally to one another in rather desultory terms and to Cassandra so briefly that she could very well have ceased to have existed.

 

The American woman was beginning to feel that the best thing to do was make her excuses and leave the room, just a quiet formal departure and then she would be free to take the gold and escape to the French ship.   She was just about to rise to her feet when the door opened and when she saw who had been admitted she found herself incapable of moving, let alone getting to her feet as her legs would have given way beneath her.

 

It was Zhuhov who demanded to know who the intruders were, along with a string of Russian curses at the hapless individual who had admitted them, and his sharp little eyes swung towards Adam and Willoughby who had now paused, midway to the table, with enough space between them but not enough to prevent everyone speaking being heard clearly.

 

“You are … ?” Zhuhov raised his chin, while at the same time he pushed his chair a little further from the table as though it would enable him to view the two men a little more clearly.  His hand convulsively tightened onto the serviette, and his lips thinned perceptibly in annoyance.

 

“Captain Adam Cartwright of the United States ship Shenandoah, this is -”

 

“Captain Adam Cartwright.” Zhuhov almost purred the name and his eyes lit up at the memory of what he knew about this man,. “Ah, now - so you are Adam Cartwright, the adventurer of whom we hear so much about in Russia.”

 

“I am Adam Cartwright,” the younger man inclined his dark head in acknowledgement, “but as to any reputation I may have in your country, sir, I -”

 

“But yes,” Zhuhov interrupted once again and rose to his feet in a grand movement that was, Adam surmised, expected to captivate and enthral his audience, “Count Lebedev was one of my relatives, you know.  By rights I suppose I should challenge you to a duel to avenge his honour, but in truth, he was not a popular man with me.  I am Count Josef Zhuhov and this gentleman is my associate, Vassily Nikisch.” he bowed formally with a click of the heels.

 

“This gentleman is Lord Laurence Willoughby from England -” Adam gestured towards Laurence who bowed towards the two men and to Cassandra, “Mrs Pelman we already know.”

 

“Ah -” Zhuhov nodded, then raised his eyebrows, “Well, so here you are, Captain Cartwright, just like the proverbial Jack in the box you pop up in the most unexpected places.  I suppose you have a ship somewhere -”

 

“Somewhere -” Adam replied coldly.

 

“And you have come all this way for what reason?”

 

“I would have thought that obvious … I want to reclaim the Baltimore back.”

 

There was silence for a moment, it hung in the air like the sword of Damocles must have done in that long ago ancient myth; the Russians looked at one another with expressionless faces, while Cassandra could only stare at Adam’s feet as her nimble brain tried to work out some way, the best way, in which she could extricate herself from the difficulties this confrontation was presenting.

 

“Also to take Mrs Pelman back to the United States with us” Adam continued, his eyes never leaving the Count’s face for a moment.

 

“Mrs Pelman?  Back to America?  But - come now - for what reason?” the silky tones of the Russian purred innocently, and he sat down again and reached out for a grape which he put into his mouth as though any further conversation would be viewed as mere entertainment.

 

“To answer to various charges of treason, Count.”

 

Nikisch shrugged and muttered something in Russian under his breath, while Cassandra gripped tightly to the edge of the table in order to hold onto something solid, she felt, upon hearing those words, as though she were going to faint.

 

“Madam,” Zhuhov turned to her now, a slight smile on his lips and she could see the cold calculating eyes twinkling as though in amusement, “Madam, what do you have to say to this man?  He thinks you are a traitor to his country?  Is not that amusing?”

 

Willoughby cleared his throat, the manner of the Russian was insulting and time wasting, and he was not in the mood for play acting.  He was about to step forward but Adam’s hand on his arm, unseen by those seated at the table, prevented him from doing so.

 

“I’m no traitor to my country.” Cassandra said coldly, “I don’t recognise Grant’s administration.  Whatever I have done was for MY country, and for the Confederacy of America.”

 

“Bravo, bravo” Zhuhov cried and even clapped his hands together before looking at Adam with a smile on his lips, “You see, Captain, she refuses to go with you.”

 

“You and your brother, Madam, have played this game for long enough,” Adam said, addressing himself to the woman, “It’s time to leave the past behind you both, and to -”

 

“My brother is dead, sir.” Cassandra replied coldly, and she now rose to her feet, “He was killed weeks ago in Nevada, looking for you.” she stared into his face, saw a slight rising of the dark eyebrows and a darkening of the eyes, but no other emotion, “and his death, although it may mean nothing to you, makes me even more determined to never  step foot on American again.”

 

“My regrets for your loss, Mrs Pelman, but my orders are to take you back with me.” he turned now to Zhuhov, “I believe that you may be under the false impression that the Baltimore was for sale to your Government, but I regret to inform you, sir, that was not the case.  Whatever payment has been agreed upon between you and this woman must be repaid, and the Baltimore returned to us.”

 

Zhuhov drew in his thin lips over his teeth which made him appear more like a cadavar than ever.   He realised that Adam was offering the ‘political’ olive branch, the way out of the matter without embarrassment to either country, after all, what country wants to admit to the theft of their newest warship, and what country wants to be accused later of stealing it?  He turned to Nikisch and spoke to him in Russian in a more forceful tone of voice than previously, Nikisch replied with a shrug, a swift few words and then silence as he turned his attention to observe the two men standing in the room.

 

“And you,” Nikisch spoke in his fractured English, “Why are you here, English?”

 

“I wanted to ask Mrs Pelman something, a question to which I believe she only knows the answer.”  Laurence replied.

 

“And what question is that, English?” Nikisch replied insolently, his lip curling as though he found the air polluted by the presence of the two men.

 

“My name is Laurence Willoughby and I am the son of a Duke, kindly address me, should you need to do so, in a manner according to my rank, sir.” Willoughby spat out in such heated tones that Adam wondered if he was about to be witness to a brawl, but instead Willoughby turned towards Cassandra, ignoring the Russian totally, “Madam, I would like to know if you and your brother were involved in the disappearance of Her Majesty’s ship The Excellency?”

 

Cassandra said nothing, her face went a little paler but other than that there was nothing coming from her at all.  Willoughby drew in his breath,

 

“I know for a fact that my brother, who was Captain of the ship, and his seamen were held captive here, on these islands, as have been many other seamen from various ships over the past few years.  These men have died either here, or in the ships that have taken them to Russia, or in the mines in which they have been forced to work.  My brother died in such conditions …”

 

“Then there is hardly any point in asking about his ship, is there?” Nikisch drawled coldly.

 

Laurence took a step forward, prevented from taking more by Adam’s hand on his arm, which he shrugged off while at the same time uttering a cry of despair and anger.  Cassandra now looked at him and her face softened for the first time, the large eyes filled with something unbelievably like tears,

 

“I am sorry, sir, I don‘t know anything about any English ships or seamen.”

 

“I was told quite categorically that you did -”

 

“Then I must refute that charge most strongly, sir.  I assure you that I am ignorant of knowing anything about The Excellency.  My brother also …” she glanced at Adam, “but it is possible that my husband may have known.”

 

“Your husband?  Then -” Willoughby paused, then remembered that Pelman was dead, he shook his head, “That won’t do, Madam, if he knew, then I am sure you would have known as well.”

 

Zhuhov clapped his hands once, sharply, breaking through the conversation.  He then looked once again at Adam, and narrowed his eyes

 

“It’s difficult, Captain.  We can hardly claim to be in ignorance of the Baltimore’s presence when we can all see that she is snug in the harbour below.” he lounged back now in the chair, his elbow elegantly poised  upon its arm, and his hand raised to his chin, “An embarrassing situation could arise, you understand, which we would wish to avoid, of course.”

 

“Count, the Commanding Officer of the Baltimore is ready to take back command of his ship.  I would it better if it was done peaceably rather than not.” Adam replied with his usual phlegmatic manner in such instances as these, he raised a dark eyebrow and glanced from one to the other of the men.

 

“In return of our largesse -” Zhuhov glanced at Cassandra whose heart beat had began to race at the thought of returning all those ingots that were nestled so neatly in the case on her bed, “what you do with your ship and this woman are irrelevant to me and my country.” he turned towards her, his face inscrutable and his eyes so cold that she could have been looking into glass, “Madam, we shall be leaving in an hour, the gold we expect here in fifteen minutes.”

 

She gulped, raised a hand to her throat, and looked nervously from one man to the other, Russian, English, American.  Each man looked coldly back at her.

 

“No,” she replied, “No, it can’t be done.  There was an agreement -”

 

“Between your brother and ourselves, Madam.  I would advise you to be careful with your words, these men will be witnesses to what you say and -”

 

“I am not going back to America with them -”

 

Zhuhov shrugged, he turned to Adam and smiled coldly,

 

“Captain Cartwright, it has been pleasant to meet you.  Perhaps you would care to join me in drinking some wine while Commissar Nikisch goes with Madam here to reclaim what is ours.”  he jerked his head at Nikisch who was obviously not going to be allowed to enjoy any further imbiding with his companion as he slowly unwound himself from his chair and walked to Cassandra’s side, taking her elbow and forcing her to move from the table.

 

Chapter 61

 

A soft breeze caused silver ripples to spangle across the waters and slap in a lazy fashion against the side of the Shenandoah.  The furled sheets on the masts appeared indolent and rather redundant on a day that seemed to O’Brien seamlessly never ending.  He paced the    foredeck with a distracted air, head cast down and hands clasped behind his back.  He only came to a halt when he realised that Myers was standing in front of him

 

“Captain O’Brien, there’s a message from the beach.”

 

O’Brien released his breath even though unaware that he had been holding it in for so long, but the thought of something to do, some action, was galvanising. He turned on his heels and hurried to pick up his telescope from where he had left it on the binnacle, and took his place beside Myers.

 

“The French frigate is leaving harbour -” he said quietly.

 

“Only the Frenchie?”

 

“Apparently so.”  he lowered the telescope thoughtfully, bowed his head and then turned to the skivvy waver, “Send them back a reply, Phillips, just that they’re to keep us informed of any movement on the Baltimore.”

 

“Yes, sir” Phillips, one of the signalman who prepares and flies flag hoists, set about preparing the message while O‘Brien watched.

 

“Captain O‘Brien, if I may -” Myers paused, struggled to rephrase in his head what he was about say and wishing that he was speaking to his own Captain rather than this young man who was of his own age and experience, despite out ranking him.

 

“You were about to say something, Mr Myers?”

 

“Only that I was wondering what we should do about the French ship.”

 

O’Brien shrugged, and shook his head

 

“I’m only concerned about my own ship, Mr Myers.   The French ship is a matter of irrelevance at this point of time.”

 

“I see,” Myers frowned and bit down on his bottom lip;  it seemed to him that O’Brien was missing out on something important but for the life of him he couldn’t find the right way of putting it to the man, instead he sighed and stood with his chin up and shoulders rigid.

 

“Do you think I’m wrong, Mr Myers?”

 

“No, sir, of course not.”

 

“Very well then, please act accordingly.” O’Brien murmured and walked away with a scowl on his handsome face.

 

It was difficult.  The French frigate could well be important to their own plans but he had no instructions or orders to do anything other than to keep the Shenandoah in one piece.  He tried to see the situation through Adam’s eyes, and knew that the only reason for their being there anyway was to secure the Baltimore, not go chasing after French frigates no matter how pretty a price she would bring in prize money.  He smiled slowly in irony, what was he thinking to have even considered it, the French were allies, and to arouse an allies distrust was tantamount to waving a red flag in front of a bull.  He turned and watched as the signalman sent up his flags, and smiled at the look on Myers face. He approached the officer and placed a  hand on his shoulder,

 

“The French are our allies, Mr Myers, if they have connected themselves in some ways to this business then we shall leave it to the likes of Mr Bingham to deal with the matter.”

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

“Should she sail in this direction and pass us by I should imagine it would be quite a shock to her to see us loitering here - we’ll wait and see what develops, shall we?” 

 

 Myers nodded, smiled slowly, but couldn’t help wishing that Captain Cartwright was standing there telling him this, rather than Daniel O’Brien.

 

……………..

 

For Cassandra Pelman it was a moment as terrible and as full of foreboding as the moment when Maria Antoinette received her death sentence so many years ago in Paris.  Her room was in total disarray and when she realised that the gold was gone, it took a  moment for the realisation to actually sink into her brain, after which the room spun around and she thought she was going to pass out.   She finally managed to turn and face Nikisch, with his supercilious smirk and the long thin fingers that tapped impatiently upon the polished surface of her dressing table.

 

“It’s gone -” she eventually said and her words sounded hollow and empty even to her ears.

 

“Gone?  What do you mean, it has gone?” he had stopped tapping his fingers now, and was standing more erect, his cheeks rouged by two red spots and his eyes sparking with the fear at the realisation  of what her words actually meant.

 

“Someone’s been here, taken the gold.” she hurried to her jewel box and raised the lid, beneath her make up so artfully applied earlier that day the colour drained away, her eyes stared at the empty casket while her mind hurried through a list of names, people, anyone whom she could associate to this deed and then she turned to the Russian,  “Sophia - “

 

“Who?”

 

“Sophia, my maid.  She’s taken it - taken the gold and my jewels.”

 

“Perhaps under your orders, Madam?” he stepped forward and looked contemptuously at the casket that looked woefully empty, he then went to the bed and pulled aside several gowns that had been casually thrown across it, then he looked at her, “I recall the woman, she is not clever, she would not have got far.”

 

Cassandra didn’t really hear what he said, her mind was dwelling on small things that hadn’t meant anything at the time but that now bore a particular significance - hurried whispered conversations between Sophia and Vacek, conversations that stopped immediately she appeared;  the expressions on their faces when they thought they were unobserved.  She saw it all, recalled it to mind, and realised that she had been made to look a fool.

 

“Vacek -” she whispered, “Vacek Krizanic”

 

“Krizanic?” he stopped as he neared the door and turned to her, “You think he has taken the gold?”

 

“I know he has -” she said quietly, “ and Sophia went along with him, and I trusted them both.”

 

“Then you are a fool” came the cold merciless words from the mouth of a man who had never shown compassion to any living soul in his life.

 

She said nothing but listened to the clip of his heels on the floor as he strode away from the room, back to tell Zhukov.  She couldn’t move as her legs trembled so much, and her throat seemed tight, too tight even for her to breathe.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had cried, nor for whom, but tears of rage and despair, tinged with fear, sprung now to her eyes and fell to her cheeks.

 

………………….

 

Adam Cartwright frowned, his darkly tanned brow furrowed in bemusement as he watched the sleek French ship move elegantly from the harbour.  He glanced over at Willoughby who was standing stiffly by the table at which the Count still sat, both men making no attempt to acknowledge or speak to the other.

 

“The French frigate -” Adam said in his deep clipped voice, “what connection does she have with this - er - arrangement of yours?”

 

“La Dauphine?” the Count shrugged, “No connection except as a means of transport from France for Madam Pelman.”

 

“Really?” Adam turned his head to observe the Russian and then flicked another glance at Willoughby before resuming his observation of the French ship, “She brought Mrs Pelman from France -”

 

“As I said -” Zhukov snapped irritably.

 

“ - but she met with the Baltimore while en route to Tokyo and Mrs Pelman changed ships, she left La Dauphine to sail with the Baltimore on the pretext of getting to Tokyo sooner.  So why did La Dauphine continue on here?”

 

“I am not interested in such irrelevancies.” Zhukov murmured, and poured himself some more wine.  “Captain, you think too much about little details -”

 

“Little details often lead to bigger things, Count.  Well, it hardly matters, as you say, especially as it’s leaving the harbour.”

 

The Count’s head jerked up and he turned bright suspicious eyes towards Adam who was still standing at the window observing the graceful departure of the frigate.  Zhuhov was about to speak when Nikisch’s entrance into the room prevented him from doing so, he rose to his feet slowly as though in anticipation of hearing bad news.

 

Nikisch paused, the object of three pairs of eyes, he faltered a little and then strode forwards resolutely.

 

“The gold is not there.  The woman accuses Vacek Krizanic of stealing it.”

 

“Vacek Krizanic?”  Zhukov whispered the words almost beneath his breath and his eyes flicked up to observe his associate, “He was alone in this?  She had nothing to do with it?”

 

“Who knows with a woman such as she is -” Nikisch replied, his contempt for Cassandra only too obvious.  “We will find him -”

 

“Oh,” Adam said thoughtfully, and he turned from his position at the window with a slight smile on his lips, although his dark eyes were darker than ever and the shadows cast across his face made him appear ominously sinister, “If you want to find him I think you will have to move swiftly.”

 

“What do  you mean?” Willoughby asked, looking at the other man with a rather puzzled expression on his face, “Mrs Pelman, is she- “

 

“Forget about Mrs Pelman for the moment, Willoughby.  I’m just thinking that if these gentleman want the gold back, and this Vacek, then more than likely both are on that ship just leaving the harbour now.” he turned towards them and shrugged, “Your birds have flown, Count.”

 

Chapter 62

 

The sun was still shining, the waves of the sea still shimmered, even though within the room itself it seemed as though an all enveloping thundercloud had gathered about them.   Adam remained standing at the window with his eyes slightly narrowed as he watched the progress of the frigate, his ears were alert to every nuance of sound within the room, and yet in his solitary stance at the window he appeared completely detached from them all.

 

“The gold?  But how is it possible -” Zhukov cried, and then went into a torrent of Russian which was answered by Nikisch in such a cold, brittle manner that it caused Willoughby to leave his position and walk to the window where he took his stand beside Adam.

 

Nikisch was in full flow now, his thin nose quivered and his lips were bared from his teeth, while the Count stood in silent and dignified poise at the table listening intently to what was being said.

 

“Do you know what they’re saying?” Willoughby asked the Captain who merely shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back.

 

The tirade between the two Russians would have continued had they not suddenly become aware of the presence of Cassandra Pelman who now stood in the entrance of the room looking like the tragic heroine from some Greek mythological legend.  Her eyes were magnificent, blazing, large and wild;  her lips were red as though she had bitten them so much that she had drawn blood; her hair was dishevelled and a mass of coils, while she had one hand clutched at her breast and the other stretched towards them as though in supplication for their clemency.  Looking at her Willoughby felt a surge of sympathy in his youthful heart, and gulped back a lump of emotion that had risen in his throat.

 

“Madam, do you realise what you have done?  This Vacek Krizanic is a Serbian revolutionary.  With the gold you have provided him he will raise up an army and bring about a war against Russia, against the world if he has to -” Zhukov cried, his voice sounded strangled as though his windpipe was caught by some emotion that prevented the words from coming clearly and he shook his head as though to gather his thoughts into a better semblance of order so as to make a more coherent speech.

 

“It wasn’t for me to know your enemies, Count,” Cassandra replied in a voice so cold, so brittle and harsh that any sympathy he had felt for her Willoughby felt drift away as though a winters wind had blown upon his heart.  “I never gave him that gold, I never brought him here - what he did he has done, what of it?  You cannot blame me.  He has stolen, not from you, but from me, do you understand that?  And understand this also, NO ONE takes anything from me unless I freely give it.” 

 

“Huh, she is a little viper this one,” Nikisch hissed and shrugged, “But you are here, Madam, and your gold is gone.  Why should we worry so much, we have our own ship and it will not take much for us to hunt your little Serbian revolutionary down.” he turned towards Adam with a sly sneer on his lips, “We also have the Baltimore, which, Captain Cartwright, we are more than willing to sell back to you.”

 

Adam turned slightly and bowed rather sardonically, his own lips twisted into a parody of the Russians and he crooked one eyebrow,

 

“Thank you, sir, but I don’t buy back something that is already mine -”

 

Their eyes locked, and it was Nikisch who turned his head away to look at Cassandra who was turning to leave the room,

 

“Madam?”

 

She paused and turned, her face white with red blotches upon her cheeks as though she had rouged them too vigorously, her eyes were fever bright

 

“I only came to tell you that I have no intention of staying here nor going with you, Captain,” she tossed her head towards Adam.

 

“Where exactly do you intend to go?” Nikisch asked, drawling out his words in a sarcastic tone of voice, “And how?”

 

“I’m returning to France -” she drew in her breath and smiled but her smile faded at the look of triumph on his face, and she glanced quickly over to wards Adam who was shaking his head as though he thought her hopes impossible.  “What is it?  What’s happened?”

 

“What has happened, Madam, is that you convince us even more that you were in league with this Krizanic.   Where have you planned to meet him?” the Count asked, his voice deep and sincerely aggrieved.

 

“I don’t know what you mean -” she replied haughtily and once more turned as though to leave.

 

“He means,” Adam said in his quiet deep voice, gentle now in deference to her womanhood, “ that Krizanic and the gold are on board La Dauphine, which is now leaving the harbour.”

 

She didn’t move, not even a quiver betrayed the emotion that hit her at that moment in time.  Betrayal upon betrayal, first Vacek, then Sophia, and now Le Montfort; she knew that she couldn’t lower her defences now, for she saw them all like a pack of wolves baying for her blood.  She merely stared at Adam as though defying him and demanding from him a clearer explanation.  At the same time her mind ran through the alternatives left open to her and with despair she realised that her options were extremely few.

 

“Well,  Madam, what do you have to say?  Did you act as Krizanic’s accomplice or not?”

Nikisch’s voice was low, sibiliant and the eyes glittered in some perverse triumph.

 

“The gold, sir, was mine,” she retorted and she turned to leave once more, only to find her passage blocked by several men who stepped past her as though she were little more than an inconvenient statue.

 

The Captain of the Russian man of war marched towards the Count, saluted, bowed and addressed the Russians in a low voice, while his eyes glanced over at Adam, before returning to his superior.  Adam plucked at Willoughby’s sleeve and nodded towards the window.

 

The window was floor length, and had been opened slightly to admit the warm air during the luncheon.  With a gesture towards Willoughby for silence, Adam stepped out into the garden, and followed obediently by the Englishman, hurried through the terraces and down through the shrubberies until he had reached the beach.

 

Upon hearing his whistle the men on the  beach gathered from their hiding places and within minutes were bending over the oars of the skiff as they steered her towards the Shenandoah.

 

………………..

 

Captain de Montfort was an honest man who had served in the French navy for many years.   He had complied with the orders that had confined him and his crew to La Dauphine for several weeks only as a result of the disciplines he had learned from his years of service.  He had endured long boring hours and an increasingly irritated and mutinous crew, but he had skilfully succeeded in keeping them from running riot over the island while he awaited the culmination of this particular assignment.

 

It  had been an assignment that had confused and worried him despite the rewards that had been offered by the beautiful Mrs Pelman.   Now as he watched the coastline of the island gradually fade from view he wondered why she had changed her mind, sending to the ship only this Serb and her maid in her place.  She had promised him both money and an opportunity to get to know her on a more intimate footing, one that he, a Frenchman, liked to think of as romantic.  Now, all he had for the weeks of waiting was a foreigner and Sophia.

 

They followed the line of the bay, striking out towards the open sea, breaking through the waves with hardly any movement upon the upper deck.  He paced back and forth, his brow creased, and his mind weighed down by the thought that something was wrong, and that his leaving the island without Mrs Pelman aboard had been rather like abandoning his post.

 

In a cabin Vacek and Sophia celebrated their new found wealth in a rather more personal and abandoned manner.  The gold and the jewels that had latterly been the possession of the American woman now gleamed in the corner of their berth, although at this point of time it was no longer at the foremost of their minds.  Nor were they concerned about the anxieties of the French Captain, nor were they bothered by the fact that an American ship was unfurling her sails and turning away from its shelter towards their ship.

 

Captain de Montfort watched with further confusion as the Shenandoah slowly manoeuvred her way to face his ship, and then as the wind caught in her sails, began a direct course towards La Dauphine. 

 

 

Chapter 63

 

Standing beside Adam, Daniel O’Brien felt a surge of confidence trickle through him.  Once again he wondered what it was about the man that could create in others the feeling that anything was possible if one reached out to attempt it.  Now as he watched the other ship drawing closer towards them he was aware of Myers and Hathaway nearby, and knew that they also seemed to have grown some inches since the Captain had returned.

 

“What exactly do you know about this man, Daniel?”  Adam was scanning the French ship through his telescope and now lowered it to look at his companion, “Did you notice anything about him that time you met him?”

 

“Apart from his being completely enamoured of Mrs Pelman?”  Daniel’s lips twisted into a slight smile, “Well, he struck me as a sincere kind of man with no secret agenda.  I doubt very much that he would have known exactly what Mrs Pelman was planning on doing when he agreed for her and her maid to transfer over to the Baltimore. I am surprised at seeing him here though.” he frowned now in concentration as he tried to recall fragments of conversation over the time he had met the Frenchman, “One thing that puzzles me - he was supposed to be sailing only so far as Hawaii, and another thing is that Mrs Pelman was travelling under an assumed name, Mrs Turville.  Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

 

“It all strikes me as strange.” Adam muttered, “I don’t want to think of the French Government being involved in all this but seeing one of her frigates here makes me wonder if she is or whether the man is actually acting only in his own interests.”

 

Daniel pursed his lips and shook his head, he could think of nothing constructive to say but stared out over the sea at the other ship.  They were closing in quickly upon her which Adam felt was a good sign of a willingness on the part of the French ship to co-operate with them.  Within a very short time they would be within hailing distance, and the Frenchman had made no attempt to out run them, or distance himself from them,   rather the reverse in fact, for  he appeared to be anxiously awaiting their approach.

 

……………………

 

In Virginia City Joe and Hoss Cartwright sat among a crowd of men watching a line of young women in very gaudy spangled short dresses kicking their legs in the air to some tuneless music.  Hoss raised his glass to his lips and frowned thoughtfully as he sipped the beer, memories of a conversation he had overheard between his father and Candy crept into his mind like the attentions of a buzz fly that would zip in and around a man when the sun was high.

 

He tried to pay attention to the entertainment, but found it impossible, the more the tune jangled on the old piano, the more the ladies pranced and danced about on the stage, the more irritated he became,

 

 

“I’m more than pleased for you, Candy.” Ben had said as  he had stood beside Candy in the study area of the big room, “It seems everything you have dreamed for will be coming true.”

 

“Yes, and more than I thought possible, Mr Cartwright.  I prayed for Ann to come back into my life, I had never stopped loving her although I did doubt the fact that she would continue to love me.  But now this, the baby -”  Hoss had heard his friend’s voice dip into a shy tone and fade into silence.

 

There had been a rustle of some papers and some mumbling between the two men before Ben said quite clearly,

 

“I had always hoped that there would be more Cartwright babies around the place here but it seems that the boys aren’t interested in settling down and raising families just yet.”

 

“Oh, I guess they’ll come around to it.  You can’t say that Joe hasn’t done his best to get himself married off -” they had chuckled at that but then had come Ben’s sigh, a long drawn out sigh that had made Hoss feel very uncomfortable.

 

“I thought Adam would have been married by now, that situation with Barbara - well, a shame that it just fizzled out like that, but then, you have to be home to put the logs on the fire to keep it burning I guess.”

 

“I’m sure that the boys will settle one of these days, Mr Cartwright -” and there had been a note of embarrassment in Candy’s voice as though the conversation was one he wasn’t particularly enjoying.

 

“Well, perhaps so.  I would have liked to have had some grandchildren around the place before I died.  The Ponderosa was meant to …” and then his voice had faded and Hoss had a mental picture of his father leaning over some papers on the desk as he talked.

 

The Ponderosa was meant to - Hoss scratched his head and stared at the dancing ladies while the phrase trickled through his mind, meant to what?  The Ponderosa was meant to - didn’t make sense, and he glanced over to Joe who seemed to be staring at the stage as though in a trance.   Perhaps Joe would know what Pa had meant, but then again would he?   Joe seemed to be rather sober just lately, even a bit tetchy.  Perhaps he would just tell Hoss that he should not have been eavesdropping anyhow and if he wanted to know then he should go and ask Pa outright.

 

Hoss sighed and buried his nose in the glass, taking a large gulp of the beer and swallowing it noisily.   The dancing ladies had parted into two rows now and a young woman was taking centre stage.  He put down his glass and wiped his mouth, beside him Joe was still staring at the stage with a blank look on his face.   People were clapping, so Hoss put his hands together and clapped as well, he nudged Joe and jerked his head towards the stage as though to give  him the hint that perhaps he should be clapping too.

 

Joe sighed and blinked, forcing himself out of the dream he had been weaving and concentrating on the aspect before him.  A pretty woman singing about a love who had gone far away and lamenting over the fact that she would never see him again. He sighed,

 

“Why am I here?” he asked himself, “I should have stayed at home.  I would have been happier at home.” he sighed again and glanced at Hoss, “Look at him, the big galoot, as happy as a pig in muck.  I wish he knew what I was going through right now.” he scratched the back of his head and stretched out a leg which was cramping up, “Love - why do people have to write songs about love?  I could write a real doozie of a song about love.”  he coughed to clear his throat, picked up his glass and emptied it, “I wonder if Victoria could ever feel the way about me as I feel about her?   She’d probably say it was too soon, too quick.  How long should any man have to wait before realising they’re in love?  You’re either in love or you ain’t, and I should know -” mentally he began to list off the ladies he had loved passionately, had loved for less than a week, had loved enough to die for, had loved enough to want for a wife. 

 

Hoss nudged him again and he gave his brother a sullen stare, reached out for his glass, realised it was empty and stood up only to have men hiss at him to sit back down again.  The lady was trilling like a canary on the stage with the pretty girls warbling behind her, even the piano was playing in tune.  He sighed and bowed his head, stared at his boots and thought about Victoria Shannon.

 

Hoss fidgeted in his seat.  Joe’s lack of interest in the entertainment was getting on his nerves, what with that and worrying about the meaning of what Ben had said earlier his own interest in the show had gone some time ago.   He emptied his glass and set it down on the table just in time for the lady to finish her song.  Like everyone else he applauded. Even Joe did in a mechanical kind of way.  He gave his brother another nudge of the elbow,

 

“Will you stop doing that!” Joe hissed, a scowl darkened his handsome face.

 

“Wal, I would if you would start paying attention,” Hoss hissed back.

 

“What for?  I’ve heard it all countless times before?”

 

“Is that so?  Then why’d ya come this evening then?”

 

“Because you bought the tickets.”

 

“Yeah.” Hoss nodded emphatically, “Yeah, I did.  So why don’t ya sit back and enjoy it?”

 

“Because I’m bored.”

 

“How cum you weren’t bored when I bought the tickets?”

 

“Because I didn’t know then that I would be bored -”

 

“In that case …”

 

 

Voices all around them hissed and growled ‘Shut up’ ‘Sit down and zip up’ ‘Can’t  you Cartwrights shut up?’

 

They rose to their feet and pushed their way through the throng just as the young woman began to sing yet another song.  Joe pushed open the doors and let them swing shut behind him.  Love - again - always songs about love!

 

“Why don’t they have a song about a good old fashioned hanging!” he snapped angrily as he stomped down the road towards his horse.

 

Hoss thumbed his hat to the back of his head and looked up at the stars … he shook his head and slowly followed behind his brother towards the horses while at the back of his mind the words ‘grandchildren’ ‘before I died’ ‘the Ponderosa was meant to be …’

 

Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks.  He snapped his fingers with such a loud click that Joe half turned to observe him before continuing on towards Cochise.  But for Hoss realisation had struck and he nodded in affirmation of his forthcoming project … Hoss Cartwright was going to go wife hunting.

 

 

Chapter 64

 

The firm handshake and direct glance from the French Captain reassured Adam as well as Daniel that the man was well meaning and if he had a secret agenda he was certainly hiding it well behind the demeanour  of  this affability.

 

He exclaimed in pleasure at the sight of O’Brien and pumped his hand vigorously, at the same time leaning forwards to bestow upon the American a truly Gallic embrace which O’Brien side stepped neatly but with a polite smile.

 

“Welcome, gentlemen, welcome aboard my ship.  But,” he looked thoughtfully at O’Brien and frowned, “You have been ill, Captain?”

 

“On the road to recovery now, thank you, Captain de Montfort.” O’Brien said in reply and he smiled, “It’s good to see you again.”

 

“Qui, quelle surprise huh?” he now glanced at Adam, “Two American ships?” his eyebrows rose in query, he shrugged in exaggerated surprise.

 

“We were surprised to see your ship here also, Captain de Montfort.” O’Brien glanced around him, before his eyes settled back upon the French man’s face which registered some confusion, “I was under the understanding that you were only going to Hawaii, which was why we took on board Mrs Pelman and her maid.”

 

“Mrs Pelman?” de Montfort drawled the name out, and frowned, “Who is Mrs Pelman?”

 

O’Brien frowned, bit his lip and shook his head as though now in doubt of the other man’s sincerity.  Adam, having looked carefully about him, now resumed the conversation,

 

“Mrs Pelman was known to you by another name, Captain.  I believe she passed herself off as Mrs Turville when you knew her.”

 

“Mrs Turville?” de Montfort frowned, looked disconcerted and shook his head, then he sighed, “Come, this discussion should take place in my cabin, I think.” and he gestured towards his quarters with an elegant motion of the hands while turning to one of his crew and speaking so rapidly in French that Adam began to have some misgivings into how much he could actually trust the man after all.

 

The Captain’s berth was comfortable and well furnished, books and music were obviously close to the man’s heart as were evidenced by the shelves that lined the one wall and were stacked high with reading matter, a music stand with sheet music on it and a clarinet stood by the window.  Upon the Captain’s desk was a tantalis and crystal glasses and after gesturing to the chairs for his guests to sit upon, de Montfort filled several glasses with brandy and handed one to both his fellow Captains.  He then sat down, a glass in his hand

 

“I am confused.” he said immediately.

 

“Believe me, Captain, you’re not the only one.” Adam remarked dryly, he sampled the brandy and nodded in approval.

 

“Madam Turville is - Madam Pelman?”

 

“Yes, one and the same.   Excuse us if we come straight to the point, but why are you here, Captain?  You were supposed to  have stopped at Hawaii but -”

 

“Yes, quite so.  La Dauphine is a merchant ship, Captain Cartwright, and I had things to do in Hawaii.  Madame Tur  - pardon - Madame Pelman paid her passage to Hawaii and then suddenly she wants to go to Tokyo.  She is a woman of impulse, a widow she tells me, and when she meets the Captain O’Brien she wants to go to Tokyo.”

 

“So you went to Hawaii and then, on a whim, decided to see what was happening here, on the Kuril Islands?” Adam frowned

 

“Mais non, non -” de Montfort shook his head, “Madame tells me, before going to the American, that after Tokyo she would be going to the Kuril Islands.  She pays me to go and meet her there to take her back to France.   First I must fulfill my commission in Hawaii, I confirm with my superiors that it is in order to go to the Kuril Islands and - “ he gestured, eloquent enough to mean hey presto, here I am.

 

“How long have  you been here, some time I believe?”

 

“Qui, too long, my crew are - not happy to stay on a ship so long.  I wait for instructions from Madam but none come.  I see the American ship is here, I take my boat and go to visit Captain O’Brien but he is not there.  Instead - Russians.” he frowned, and shook his head, “I am in between the cleft stick you understand?”  they didn’t and looked puzzled, he shook his head again, “Russians on board an American ship, on my other side, more Russians in their own ship.  I order my men to stay on board and keep out of the way.  My Government would not want to be involved in any troubles between American and Russians.”

 

“So, you just stayed and waited for instructions from Madam Pelman as to when you would leave?” Adam raised his eyebrows thoughtfully and waited for the Frenchman to speak while they sipped their brandy.

 

“I watch and wait.  I see Madam in the gardens and visit her, she tells me that when she comes aboard she will be bringing much gold with her.  She has business with Russian Government, important business.  Of course,” he frowned then, a darkening of the brow and a slight colour mantling his cheek indicated his discomfiture, “I am not comfortable with this arrangement and tell her that my Government does not want to be involved with any business dealings that she has with Russian,  but she reminded me that her passage back to France had already been paid -” he paused, there was, he reminded himself, little point in mentioning any other form of payment she had promised him.

 

“So you wait  - and then, suddenly, decide to go without her anyway.” O’Brien murmured cynically.

 

“But -” de Montfort looked shocked, his eyes widened and his shoulders rose to meet his ears in a true Gallic motion of amazement, “I go today to speak to her, but -” he looked from one to the other “elle est mort. Comprenons? You understand?  She is dead.”

 

Adam stared at de Montfort as though the man were mad, then looked at O’Brien before shaking his head slowly from side to side, he passed his hand slowly down across the lower part of his face then said just one word “Explain.”

 

“Explain? What is there to explain?” de Montfort flourished his glass wildly, splashing some brandy over his hand as he did so, “I go to see her, instead I meet her friend Vacek. He is - she told me - her secretary.”

 

“He was - oh never mind - go on”

 

“He is distressed, ‘ow you say, unhappy.  He tells me Madam could not come now, she had died.”

 

They stared at him in disbelief, Adam rather slowly raised a hand to pass over his hair and down to the nape of his neck as though wondering whether to laugh out loud or just let the man continue waffling on, he sucked in his breath and decided to finish his brandy while de Montfort continued the story.

 

“I ask - ‘Let me see her’ but no, Vacek said that -” another extravagant gesture to signify dismay, horror, he shook his head, “then he says that it was not safe for me to remain, the Russians would make a big international affaire of this matter so I was to leave immediatement.  I turn to go, he says ‘Wait  - I cannot stay, you must take me with you.’” de Montfort shrugged, “So, very soon he and Madam Turville’s - non, pardon - Madam Pelman’s maid arrives with great haste.  I ask her, the little Sophia, what had happened to Madam and she confirms what Vacek told me, her mistress had died.”

 

“And you weren’t suspicious?  I mean, you didn’t disbelieve them?”

 

“For what reason?” de Montfort frowned, “Captain Cartwright, Captain O’Brien, I am the Captain of a merchant ship, not a man of war.  If I were Captain of a man of war I would still be leaving here quickly, how could I stay without my country becoming involved in a problem that exists between you and Russia?”

 

“He’s got a point there, Adam” Daniel said quietly and swallowed the rest of the brandy in two gulps.

 

“Vacek Krizanic and the maid,” Adam leaned forward, “have lied to you, Monsieur de Montfort.” he looked at the other man and saw the confusion in the mans face, and he understood that the man was not a fool, but an honest man who for some reason believed that other men were just as honest, especially when the liar was as practised a one as Vacek Krizanic.  He stood  up, “Madam Pelman is very much alive and well, I should imagine that by now she is wondering why exactly you’ve gone and left her like this, although, perhaps she has already guessed the reason.” 

 

“Very good,” de Montfort said slowly, “I have told you all I know, perhaps you will be so good as to explain why you are here, and what exactly it is that I am caught in the middle of it” his eyes looked from one to the other, his English may have been far from perfect but the request was certainly clear enough.

 

As briefly as possible Adam and O’Brien filled in the missing pieces of the puzzle, interspersed every so often by a cry of ‘Incredible’ and ‘Mordieu’.  It really didn’t take too long to explain, although even to Adam’s ears the whole story seemed, as de Montfort would say, incredible.  When there was finally silence de Montfort rose to his feet and opened the door,

 

“Colbiere, ici -”

 

The officer to whom he had earlier spoken was within the cabin so promptly that Adam had no doubt that he had been listening at the door, he saluted, paid attention to what his Captain told him and left the cabin.  De Montfort now turned to his American guests,

 

“Come, Messieurs, we shall see the denouement.”

 

Adam rolled his eyes rather but rose to his feet and with O’Brien by his side followed the Frenchman to the deck where Vacek and Sophia were being hustled forward by Colbiere.

 

“What does this mean?” Vacek demanded, looking from one Captain to the other with defiance in his eyes and his fists clenched as he stepped forwards as though to underline his request by force, Corbiere promptly stepped forward and forced him back.

 

Sophia, looking still dishevelled and making a swift adjustment to her dress, merely looked terrified as she watched Vacek struggling to free himself from two seamen who had him in their grasp.

 

“Come -” de Montfort stepped forwards and into the cabin that the couple had been forced to vacate.

 

Adam heard the Frenchman’s gasp even as he stepped through the door, and he knew the gasp was not one of horror but of amazement as his eyes fell upon the quantity of gold that gleamed so dully in the corner of the cabin.  De Montfort stared at it and then turned to Adam with a slow nodding of the head,

 

“I was a dupe for these thieves, and Madam - she is still alive?”

 

“When I left her, yes, she was still alive.” Adam replied quietly.

 

“The gold?” the Frenchman swept a hand towards the ingots and raised his eyebrows, “It is a King’s ransom.”

 

“It’s - well - the price of good solid ship, Captain.” Adam smiled slowly, “I should imagine the sooner I get it returned to the Russian diplomats the better.” he turned to O’Brien “And you can take your ship back, O’Brien.”

 

“What about those two?  What do you wish me to do with them?” de Montfort asked as he closed the lid down upon the gold and turned the key in the lock.

 

“We’ll take them back with us, sir.” Adam replied extending his hand towards the case, “I think the best thing for you would be to continue peaceably on your way home.”

 

De Montfort smiled sadly, and nodded.  His eyes now fell upon the jewellery that Sophia had taken from Cassandra’s jewel box and he swept it slowly into his handkerchief, neatly tied the corners and handed the little package into Adam’s keeping.

 

“It is a shame,” he said quietly, “Madam Pelman was a beautiful woman -”

 

Chapter 66

 

In her room Cassandra Pelman paced the floor like a caged lioness.  Years of careful scheming now appeared to be as fragile as a house built of cards, just about ready to tumble down.   Back and forth she strode with her gown flowing behind her, constantly rubbing her hands together as though ice flowed through her veins instead of blood.

 

Nikisch and Zhukov had ignored her with such blatant contempt that she had no reason to remain in the room with them.  Once they had realised that Adam and Willoughby had left the room the two Russians had discussed the situation as though she were not there, and when she had gone they continued to discuss the matter as though her departure made no difference to them whatsoever.

 

Finally she stopped her pacing, to panic now would be to lose all hope.   She had never felt more alone, for in her life there had always been a strong man to bear the burden of her decisions, of her failures and of her successes.    She had despised Pelman but he had been the brains behind the stealing and selling on of ships, an idea that had come to him during the Civil War when everything was in such disarray that most Senators and Government Officials in whatever form of active service wouldn’t know whether any ship was in dock at New York or Timbuctoo.   Then there had been Jeffrey, always quiet, strong, ready to defend her, prepared to negotiate the best on the deals.  Of course the Eugenes had been useful with their influence, contacts and money.  She had lost them all now, they were all gone, all gone.

 

She had to formulate a new plan.  She needed a strong man in her life again and she knew exactly which man would be most suitable for her needs.

 

………………

 

The Jacob’s ladders was placed carefully so that Sophia could quite easily climb down the ship’s side to the boat below.  She had watched Vacek as he went over the side, and she had seen the case of gold being lowered carefully down so that it settled carefully and neatly between the thwarts, and now it was her turn to descend.  She looked imploringly at de Montfort and spoke to him in their own language,

 

“Monsieur, pourriez-vous m’aider?” she raised her hands, clasped as though in supplication, and her eyes, wet with tears, “s’il vous plait, monsieur?”

 

A seaman, one of the French men, came and grabbed at her arm to haul her back to her feet, and now she turned to Adam

 

“Monsieur, my only sin is that I love Vacek.  Madam is not kind, she is - “ she paused as though searching for the right word but unable to find the English for it she shook her head, “Monsieur, je m’excuse, pardon, pardon.”

 

Adam sighed and looked at de Montfort, then at O’Brien, but Daniel had turned his head away as though sick of the histrionics of the girl and was already making his way to the ships side in order to descend to the boat.  Adam said something to de Montfort who nodded in agreement, the two men shook hands and then Adam made his way to where Daniel was standing, placing a hand on the arm of the seaman who was still grappling with the girl.

 

“Leave her now, she’s a French subject and your Captain will see to her.” then he turned to Daniel and with a curt nod of the head waited for his friend to descend the ladder.

 

The sea was a flat calm and both Officers had taken their seats on the thwarts, the oarsmen bent their backs and in a fluid motion began to row away from La Dauphine towards where the Shenandoah waited.   Vacek Krizanic looked around him with wild eyes, he stared up at the vast sides of the ship that seemed towering overhead and with a cry called out Sophia’s name.

 

“Be quiet, man,” Daniel said coldly, “Any nonsense from you now and I shall order you to be shackled.”

 

“Sophia” Vacek cried and pushing against the seaman seated beside him he rose to his feet, “Sophia”

 

The boat rocked slightly, the seaman grabbed at Vacek and pushed him back onto the seat.  From above them Sophia looked down at the man she loved, called out his name,

 

“Je t’aime” she cried, while the tears streamed down her face and when Colbiere put his hands on her shoulders to pull her back she pushed him away, “Vacek, Vacek, je t’aime sans fin.”

 

Still the oarsmen pulled at the oars in a unison of movement that was worthy of the years of discipline at sea, Vacek succumbed to the seamans attempts to subdue him, and the boat steadied itself as it continued its way to the American ship.  Daniel turned to Adam,

 

“Why did you let her go?   She was party to this theft after all.”

 

“She did it for love,” Adam replied without looking at his friend but staring into the face of the Serb who was staring now at him with eyes full of despair and anguish.

 

“It was still wrong -”

 

“Yes, it was still wrong,” Adam sighed, “Other women have done worse for love, don’t you think?” and he lowered his eyes and glanced sideways at his fellow officer before raising them again.

 

Daniel said nothing more, the allusion was significant, a reminder that had it not been for Adam’s act of compassion and mercy once before, on behalf of a woman in love, then Daniel’s wife would have had to face a judge and jury for what had taken place as a result of her actions.   He bit his bottom lip, and stared thoughtfully at the sea, as though the subject was now exhausted.

 

Adam glanced back to the French ship, Sophia was no longer there, her cries no longer heard.  He glanced ahead of him and relaxed as the Shenandoah reared closer.  He could see Mayhew’s head just appearing at the side of the ship, he turned to Daniel to say something when Vacek suddenly reared up from his seat and flung himself at him, his hands pushed against the Captain’s chest as though his one aim was to hurl the other man overboard.   Instinctively Adam’s hands gripped around the other mans wrists.  The boat rocked but before it had steadied itself both men had plunged into the water and the sea had closed over their heads.

 

Vaceks hands now rose to Adam’s throat, despair and fear drove him to put all the strength he possessed to be rid of the man who had brought about the end of his hopes.  The gold would have financed a rebellion in Croatia against the Russian oppression, it would have brought freedom for Vacek’s people from a tyranny that was cruelly oppressive, and on top of all that, the girl Vacek cared about had been separated from him, and all because of this one man. The American. Adam Cartwright.  Better to die now and know he had taken his enemy with him than to live and know the bitter taste of failure.

 

Adam struggled against the pressure on his throat, the weight of his clothes were pulling him down into the depths of the sea, and his opponent seemed to be possessed of a quite unnatural strength.  He pushed his hand against Vacek’s chest, struggled to bring his arm up against the other man’s arms and thus pull them away from his throat, he could feel his lungs burning, that terrible burning that indicated that the air in them was depleted, the desire to open his mouth and breathe was overwhelming. He kicked out, felt Vacek’s legs tangle against his own, locked his legs around them and pushed with all his strength, with what really was the last ounce of strength that he possessed.

 

Chapter 67

 

The door slamming shut made Hoss jump and drop the pencil he had been using onto the floor.  As he leaned down to retrieve it he peered around the side of the chair to see who had entered and scowled slightly when he saw Joe.  Very carefully he put his pencil back in the top pocket of his shirt and tucked the paper he was writing on in the back pocket of his pants. 

 

“Is Pa home?” Joe tossed his hat onto the peg and began to unbuckle his gun belt, he glanced over at his brother and frowned, “What are you looking so guilty about?”

 

“Nothing.  What are you looking so annoyed about?” Hoss replied, tossing back the question with what he considered some alacrity, although, of course, he would call it something else.

 

“Oh, nothing much.”  Joe walked into the room and slumped down into the blue chair and stared up at the ceiling, “Barbara had a little boy -”

 

“Huh?” Hoss screwed up his eyes and wrinkled his nose, Joe had made the statement in much the same tone of voice as he would have recited ‘Mary had a little lamb -’ “Who’s Barbara?”

 

“Barbara - nee Scott - you know, the woman who was going to marry our brother before he did a disappearing act to the frozen north.”

 

“Oh,” Hoss raised his eyebrows, “That Barbara?”

 

“Yeah, exactly, that Barbara.” Joe sighed and folded his arms across  his chest, stretched out his legs and pouted, “She had a baby boy yesterday.”

 

“Shucks, fancy that -” Hoss frowned, “I didn’t know she was expecting a baby.”

 

“Well, she doesn’t exactly keep us on her calling card list anymore, does she?  Not since she did the dirt on Adam.”

 

“That ain’t fair, Joe.”

 

“It’s true though.”

 

“No, it ain’t.  Adam released her from her promise to marry him, remember?”

 

Joe said nothing, but his scowl darkened somewhat and he sighed deeply while at the same time hugging his arms tighter into his chest,

 

“That baby could have been a Cartwright.” he grumphed, narrowing his eyes and staring fiercely at the log basket.

 

“Wal, it ain’t, so best quit thinking along those lines, and don’t mention it to Pa.”

 

“Don’t mention what to Pa?” the voice of their father intoned deeply behind them and Ben stepped forwards, settled into his chair and picked up his tobacco pouch and pipe, then looked around at them both “Well?  What is it?  You were in deep conversation before I got here, why stop now?”

 

“Because he -” Joe jabbed his thumb in Hoss’ direction, “told me not to mention to you what I was told by Paul Martin in town today about Barbara.”

 

“Barbara Scott?” Ben managed a half smile and his dark eyes turned from one to the other, “What about her?  Is she alright?”

 

“Sure, she’s fine.”

 

“So?”

 

“She had a little boy yesterday.”

 

“Oh,” Ben said nothing more but stuffed tobacco into the bowl of his pipe and then paused half way to putting it in his mouth in order to ask if that was all and had there been any mail.

 

They both knew what that meant, and they both shook their heads even though only one of them had gone into town to collect the post.

 

Ben puffed life into the pipe, the tobacco glowed red and he leaned back and exhaled slowly.  So Barbara Scott had a child of her own now.  Without realising it he sighed, and the rather nebulous thought trickled through his mind that had things worked out, that child could have been Adam’s son.  Well, so be it, and he sighed again and puffed harder so that the tobacco glowed more red than ever.

 

“So, what were you writing when I came in, Hoss?” Joe asked again, “You sure looked guilty.”

 

“I didn’t.” Hoss frowned, “I jest dropped my pencil and couldn’t find it, is all.”

 

Joe shrugged and rose to his feet, stretched and turned to wards the stairs,

 

“I’ll just go and get cleaned up before supper.  I won’t be long.” he said to no one in particular and he hurried up the stairs towards his room in his usual two at a time mode.

 

Behind them Ben and Hoss could hear the clatter of dished being placed on the table, and cutlery rattled.  Hoss got to thinking about what was written on the paper in his back pocket, the urgency of the situation made him feel as though it were burning a hole in his pants, while Ben, with his eyes hooded so that he could observe without it being too obvious, wondered where Adam was, whether or not he was safe and well, and whether he realised just how much he was missed back on the Ponderosa.

 

…………………

 

Kicking out against the water Adam forced himself to the surface, shook his head, gasped for air and even as he struggled to get back his breathe eager and willing hands seized hold of him and hauled him up and into the boat.

 

“I’m sorry,” Daniel cried as the body of his friend was carefully placed amid the thwarts, “It all happened so quickly.” he looked up at the seamen, “Row harder, we’ve got to get him aboard ship.” then once again he looked down at his friend, rubbed the cold hands and placed a hand on Adam’s chest in order to feel for a heart beat, “Adam?  Do you hear me?”

 

………………

 

 

When Adam opened his eyes it was to see Daniel’s anxious face looking down at him, he closed his eyes again slowly.  For some reason that he could not explain the face of his friend had not been the face he had wanted to see at that moment, he waited a short while before forcing his eyes to open again,

 

“Vacek?”

 

“He’s dead.”

 

“Drowned?”

 

“Unless he can stay under water for longer than ten minutes and survive, yes.”

 

Adam cleared his throat, and struggled to sit up.  Someone had pulled off his jacket, and loosened the cravat of his shirt, but what clothes he was wearing were wet, he drew a hand across his face and for a second looked unseeingly at the damp palm before glancing up at Daniel,

 

“We have to get back to see the Russians.  The gold -?”

 

“We have it safely here.”

 

Adam nodded, looked at Daniel and smiled slowly,

 

“Well, it won’t be long before you can take back command of your own ship again, Daniel.    We’ll have to arrange a deployment of men, as some of your crew aren’t fit for work yet.”

 

Daniel nodded and watched as his friend struggled to his feet.  He poured out some brandy into a glass and forced it into Adam’s hand,

 

“Here, drink this, it’ll warm your insides.”

 

“Thanks,” Adam allowed himself a dry slight laugh, “It may not be as fine a quality as de Montforts but it’ll do for now.  The main thing,” he swallowed back the brandy, “is to get to Zhukov and deliver that gold back to him.  Then,” he emptied the glass and set it back onto the desk, “to see what to do about Cassandra Pelman.”

 

“Mmm, what do you intend to do about Cassandra Pelman?” Daniel asked and passed over a dry shirt which Adam struggled into, and began to slowly button up, before going to stand before a mirror to check the tying of the cravat. 

 

“I don’t know,” Adam replied as he began to pull off his wet pants and other wet things, he caught the towel Daniel tossed over to him with one hand, “I don’t know.” he paused and narrowed his eyes, “We’ve cut off her escape route to France, and I doubt if she would want to go with the Russians.”

 

“Would she come with us?”

 

“She’s already adamantly refused to do so.  Mind you, she thought she had La Dauphine to provide her with escape, now that has gone,” he pulled on clean dry pants, sat down to pull on socks and dry shoes then stood up, “now that has gone she will have to rethink her strategy.”  he checked himself again in the mirror, ran his fingers through his hair and then turned to Daniel, “I think we should prepare ourselves to sail into the jaws of the Russian bear, don’t you?” he smiled

 

“You are alright, aren’t you?” Daniel said, putting his hand on his friend’s arm, “As a friend, Adam, you would tell me -”

 

“Daniel, I’ve fallen into more rivers, streams and seas than you could count on both hands and feet, so - please - “ he raised a hand to signify that enough was enough and with that Daniel O’Brien had to be content.

 

……………

 

Nikisch and Zhukov were at the harbour, standing on the pier when the boat containing the two Officers and seamen from the Shenandoah came slowly to berth.  Standing back they watched and waited as the boat was tied to a bollard and the two Officers, Captain Cartwright and Captain O’Brien, approached them.  Behind them Davies came with the case containing the gold.

 

“Count Zhukov,” Adam acknowledged the older man with a slight bow of the head, he turned to Nikisch and merely nodded, “I believe this is yours?”

 

Rather theatrically Davies opened the lid and exposed the gold to view, Zhukov did not move but Nikisch did, he ran a finger down the length of one of the ingots and then nodded,

 

“You forget we gave this to the woman, Mrs Pelman, in payment for the American ship.”

Zhukov said quietly.

 

“You may have forgotten that the ship was not Mrs Pelman’s to sell” Adam replied equally as quietly, “So shall we forget about Mrs Pelman for the moment, and just accept the fact that this is yours, and that Captain O’Brien, here,” he turned to present Daniel to the two men, “ can resume his command on the Baltimore?”

 

“And if we do not?” Nikisch replied.

 

“If you do not what?” Adam raised his chin challengingly, and the lids of his eyes lowered, hooding the dark eyes while he raised one eyebrow.

 

“If we do not accept the gold and take the ship.”

 

Adam now smiled slowly, then turned to Daniel,

 

“Did you hear that, Daniel.  He wants to keep your ship.”

 

“So he does, Adam.” O’Brien drew in a deep breath, “Perhaps he doesn’t understand English?  Perhaps you need to spell it out to him.”

 

Nikisch flushed bright red, and stepped forward with his thin lips drawn back in a snarl of anger, he put out a hand as though to snatch at Adam’s jacket and then realised what he was doing and to whom.  Adam, as Captain of the Shenandoah, was representative of his country, and to have laid a hand upon him, even under provocation, could have had severe diplomatic consequences.  He was a diplomat of the old school, and now, understanding protocol, stepped back quickly.

 

Count Zhukov now spoke, his voice was deep, slow and resonant, he looked at the two Americans thoughtfully, and then at the gold, then smiled,

 

“I understand your meaning, Captain Cartwright, you would like to purchase back your ship?”

 

Adam pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes, smiled slightly,

 

“As I said before, Count, I don’t buy back what I already own.”

 

“Ah yes, but this is not your gold, is it?”  Zhukov’s smile widened as he pointed to the ingots that gleamed upon the pier at their feet.

 

“True, but then, that is not your ship, is it?” and Adam’s smile widened as he pointed to the Baltimore.

 

Zhukov nodded, he extended his hand and bowed towards the two men,

 

“I think we understand each other, Captain.” he said quietly.

 

“I think we do, sir.” Adam replied, and he accepted the other mans hand and shook it firmly.

 

Zhukov clicked his fingers and instantly a thick set Russian seaman appeared and picked  up the gold; with a brief gesture he indicated that it be taken on board the Russian man of war after which he turned to Adam and Daniel,

 

“We shall be leaving within the hour, Captain Cartwright.  I presume that you shall be dealing with Madam Pelman?”

 

Adam bit down on his bottom lip, frowned and then nodded,

 

“I presume so, sir.”

 

“Then - goodbye.” he clicked his heels, bowed towards both Officers and then walked abruptly away, followed by Nikisch who didn’t deign to speak or even look at them, he passed by as though both men were beneath his contempt to do so. Neither man looked back

 

Adam and Daniel looked at one another, smiled and without a word shook each other by the hand

 

“My word, that was easier than I thought it was going to be -” Daniel said with a note of laughter in his voice and some colour, at last, in his cheeks.

 

“I rather think,” Adam said with a chuckle, “that the worse is yet to come.” and as he spoke he turned towards the steps leading to the terraces of the building from which the Russians had come, and from where Cassandra Pelman now approached them.

 

“Oh Lordy!” Daniel breathed, sounding so much like Hoss Cartwright that Adam could only sigh, and then nod slowly in agreement.

 

 

Chapter 68

 

The noise of sea birds cawing above their heads, the waves slapping against the harbour walls, men calling out to one another in Russian, footsteps as men departed from the Balitmore, all these sounds echoed around the two men as they watched Cassandra and her entourage approach them.

 

She now stood merely a few feet from them and scowled from one to the other while behind her the people she had recruited to bring down her luggage dropped cases and boxes on the pier.  

 

“What’s happened to my ship?”

 

“Which ship do you mean exactly?” O’Brien asked politely while he placed one hand  upon his jacket in the vicinity of his heart.

 

“The French ship, of course.”

 

“Oh, Captain de Montfort preferred to continue on his journey to France without you.”

 

A deepening of a scowl creased her brow and the large eyes widened and the rouged lips parted slightly as she thought upon her options.  She turned her head to observe the Russian ship and the number of men moving about the walkway carrying various boxes indicative of the Russians imminent departure. She was about to speak when her face drained of colour and she stepped back as both her hands rose to her face in horror,

 

“Oh no, Vacek?  It is Vacek, isn’t it?” she cried with a note of hysteria in her voice as, behind the men, she observed several men pulling a dark shape from the water.  It took no time at all to see that this was once a living being, for the limp arms flailed to left and right upon the sand, and his face, livid and with eyes distended, was turned towards her.  The body was hauled upon the beach.  She stepped forward then, as though to run towards him, but then paused as O’Brien stretched out an arm to prevent her going any further, “Let me go, I have to see him.”

 

“There’s little point, Mrs Pelman.  Krizanic is dead.” Adam murmured, “He won’t be able to tell you where your gold is, or what has happened since he last saw you, I’m afraid.”

 

“The gold?” she looked at him then, turning away from the sight of the dead man being carried over the shoulder of one of the local men.  “What do you know about the gold?”

 

“Mrs Pelman, I’m not here to answer your questions.  Now, if you’ll just collect what you think you need most, perhaps we can board ship.”

 

“Board ship?  What do you mean? I’m not boarding any ship with you.”  she turned from Adam to look at O’Brien, “Will you tell me what’s going on ?”

 

“Mrs Pelman, the Baltimore and the Shenandoah are heading for Tokyo.  You have a choice of which ship you prefer to sail in, but I do need to remind you that space on board both ships is cramped, you can only take your essentials with  you.   May I also remind you that you are under arrest and I’m afraid you have no other option available to you at this moment in time.” 

 

Adam pursed his lips as he listened to O’Brien’s statement.  He remembered how this woman had made such a grand entrance at the Eugene’s house that day the Ainola was burning and nine of his men were killed.  He recalled the way her eyes had looked at him as though in challenge.  That was the day he had first met her, and since then there had been nothing but death and destruction trailing in her wake.  He crooked an eyebrow as though to hasten her decision along, but she merely stared at him as though he were a sheet of glass.

 

“I told you I would not step foot in America and I meant it.”

 

“That was when you thought de Montfort would hang around here and take you back to France,” Adam said quietly, “but as you can see he’s not here, nor is Vacek, and nor is the gold.”

 

She put a hand to her brow, then swept her hand across her hair as though some strand had blown across her eyes,  not wanting them to think she was concerned or worried about anything they had said.  She straightened her shoulders,

 

“Then I shall take my chances with the Russians.”

 

“I’m afraid the Count and Nikisch really don’t want to be further involved with you.  They have their gold back, that’s all that concerned them really.  The loss of an American ship weighed up against the loss of the gold and national reputation doesn’t really compare.  Now, if you don’t mind, Ma’am, we really need to get away from here.”

 

“No.  I’m not going.  I’ll stay here until - until another ship comes.”

 

Adam smiled, shook his head and looked at O’Brien with a shrug of his shoulders.  It was O’Brien who informed her that she had no choice, she couldn’t remain on the island and she would have to leave.

 

“Then I need a maid.  Where’s Sophia?”

 

“Sophia is returning to France on La Dauphine,” O’Brien replied.

 

“What?” the response was involuntary, and regretted, for she immediately bit her lips and shook her head in dismay at her loss of control. She raised her head again and looked once more at Adam, “I need a maid.  You’ll  have to get me one.”

 

“Nonsense, you don’t need a maid, you want one, but you don’t need one.  If you really ‘need’ help to get yourself dressed in the morning I’ll loan you one of our midshipmen.”  Adam retorted, and put out a hand to take hold of her arm, “If you don’t mind, Madam, we’re losing time and I’d rather be out of the harbour before the Russians than afterwards.”

 

She stood there for a moment looking crest fallen, and with her face quite still and devoid of any emotion.  It was not the hard cold face that had shown itself so often before, with the harsh shadows exposing the sharp planes of the bones and high bridged nose, more the face of a woman, a beautiful woman, who for once had run out of choices and was now dependent upon someone else to make decisions for her.  She reminded Adam of a wild horse that had just reached the point of docility, but then she raised her eyes and stared deep into his own and he remembered that even horses could fool a man.

 

“I’m under arrest?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am, you are.”

 

“On what charge?”

 

“Treason.”

 

She blanched slightly and went a trifle paler.  Then she turned and pointed to two boxes, said something to one of the women standing near by, and pointed to the Shenandoah.  She watched as they picked the boxes up and took them towards the boat where the seamen carefully manhandled them under the thwarts and waited for their Officers and passenger to board.

 

“Will I be tried?”

 

“Of course.”

 

She bowed her head and stepped forwards, together the three of them walked along the pier to the boat and it was O’Brien who stepped back to let her pass.  She was helped into the boat by Davies, then Adam and O’Brien stepped down and took their seats opposite her.  The men pushed away from the pier, and applied themselves to the oars, each stroke taking them closer to the ship.

 

“So you have the Baltimore back again, Captain O’Brien?”

 

“Indeed, yes, madam.”

 

She said nothing, but folded her hands neatly together upon her lap.  A stranger would have remarked upon her beauty and thought her an innocent modest woman so cunningly had she applied her paints and rouges, and the sun shone gently upon her casting her in favourable shadow.   Adam looked at her thoughtfully and wondered what had turned her to the avaricious and manipulative woman he knew, a woman who could plan death with the coldest of hearts.   He knew she had never loved her husband, Commodore Pelman, and had contempt for Andre Eugene, but she had used them both to get her what she had wanted and in the end she had gained nothing. Nothing at all.  Even her brother had now died. 

 

The Jacob’s ladder was lowered and she mounted the rungs carefully, once she slipped and seemed as though to fall, but a strong hand behind her steadied her and returned her foot to the rung.  She lowered her head, and bit her lip to conceal a smile, and without any further impediment made her way to the deck of the ship.   It was Adam who stepped onto the deck after her, and rightly as she had surmised, it had been his hand that had guided her foot and saved her from falling although, in fact, she had no intention of falling at all.

 

“Lieutenant Myers, show this lady to her cabin” Adam said abruptly, and the young man attached himself to her side like a sheep dog prepared to jostle her into the right direction, “Mayhew, take the bags for Mrs Pelman.”

 

“Yes, sir.” a smart salute and the bags were taken up and balanced carefully as Mayhew took the lead towards the cabin.

 

Cassandra looked around the ship, glanced up at the sky and clouds and then at the masts and rigging, at the men who were even now beginning to unfurl the main sails.  She turned to Adam,

 

“When do I get my meals? What privacy do I get?  I shall need to take the air daily and -”

 

“Mrs Pelman, you are a prisoner on board this ship.” Adam’s voice was even and deep, his dark eyes looked at her without guile, he raised both eyebrows, “There will be one of my marines posted outside  your cabin door at all times, should you require anything let him know. Excuse me, I have things to attend to -” and with a curt nod of the head he turned and joined O’Brien and Willoughby in his own cabin.

 

“I think she’s going to provide some entertainment on this trip to Tokyo, Adam” Daniel chuckled, “Let me know if you need any help.”

 

“Certainly,” Adam tossed his hat onto his desk, and poured coffee into three cups, it smelt good and strong and dark, he passed each man a cup before savouring the aroma and taking a seat, “Lord Laurence Willoughby, sir, what do you intend to do now?  Will you be coming with us or staying here?”

 

Laurence pushed his fingers through his hair, and gave a slight smile,

 

“I’ll be staying here, thank you.” he pouted a little before smiling again, “Even though I am now the fourth son of a Duke, I am still an artist, that’s where my main love lies, and that’s what I want to do.  I also have to make my peace with the villagers who - due to my reckless behaviour -”

 

“No, it wasn’t reckless” O’Brien interjected but Laurence shook his head, and raised a hand,

 

“Thank you, Captain O’Brien, but I feel that those villagers would not have suffered so much if I had been less stupid.  I want to paint what I find beautiful here, and enjoy living here.  Perhaps in a year or two I shall go back  home to England, but until then I’d rather remain where I am.”

 

“In that case then, let’s drink up and see you safely off the ship.” Adam murmured with a smile of his own, and then he looked over at O’Brien, “We need to get some men to crew  for the Baltimore, O’Brien.   Once we have seen Willoughby off the ship we must decide who would be best for you to take back, of course, you will want Davies and those of your men who had escaped capture earlier on.”

 

Willoughby drank his coffee slowly, in no particular hurry to part company with these two men.  In his mind he was capturing moments of the past days that he could transfer to canvas with his oils and paints, and he studied particularly Adam’s face, carefully catching the light and shadows as they fell upon high cheekbones, dark eyes and black curling hair.

 

“Captain, what will happen to Mrs Pelman?” he asked as the conversation between the two men lulled into silence.

 

“She’ll be tried for treason.” Adam replied slowly.

 

“And what will happen then?”

 

“I don’t know,” Adam bit down on his bottom lip and frowned, “That will be for a judge and jury to decide.  Thankfully that doesn’t fall into my jurisdiction.”

 

Willoughby nodded and set down his cup slowly. He rose to his feet and shook their hands warmly, then with unusual English warmth he gave O’Brien, with whom he had shared most of his recent adventures, a close embrace.

 

As Willoughby sat in the skiff returning to shore he glanced up at the Shenandoah and at the two Officers watching his departure.  His thoughts, however, were upon the lady, the prisoner upon that ship sailing to, perhaps, her death.  He sighed and for some reason a sonnet of Shakespeare’s floated into his mind 

 

Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath steel'd,
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictur'd lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

 

Chapter 69

 

The sun was lowering along the horizon, slanting so that it caught in one’s eyes and then a person had to half close them which would sometimes crinkle up their whole face.  Hoss was having problems as the sun’s rays reflected against the paper he was holding in one hand.  He very carefully and deliberately drew a line through a name on what appeared to be a list of names, and then, after licking the stubby point of the lead once again, he scored through yet another.

 

Two whole days and still nothing.  His list was growing shorter which meant so were his options.  He sighed and scratched the back of his neck so that his hat tilted forwards a little over his face.  He paused though at  the sound of a child’s giggle,

 

“You look funny …do it agin.”

 

He pushed his hat up and looked down at the boy who was standing in front of him, a slim dark haired boy with large hazel brown eyes, long lashes and dark hair.  A few freckles dashed across his nose, and when he smiled he displayed a gap where two teeth had recently gone missing.  Hoss judged him as between 6 to 7 years old.

 

“Wal, I ain’t gotta mind to, if’n you’re gonna laugh at me agin.” he said pulling a sad face, as though the laughter had upset him.

 

“Aw, didn’t mean nothing by it,” the boy said, “Jest that you looked funny, is all.”

 

Hoss thumbed his hat to the back of his head so that it fell off and with a neat swivel of the hips and twist of the hand he caught it again.  This sent the boy into shrill gurgles of laughter.   Back went the hat and once again Hoss scratched the back of his neck and the hat toppled forwards, and this time his efforts were rewarded by the sound of clapping.  He grinned and tipped  his hat back into its rightful position and found himself looking at a woman who bore a wide smile on her face and was still clapping her hands.  The child had scampered off, Hoss could just see him rounding a corner.   He shrugged and looked rather sheepish,

 

“Shucks, Miss, I thought you was a kid.” he blushed and shook his head, “I mean, I thought it was a kid but -” he bit his lip “Dad burn it, there was a kid here jest now and …”

 

“Of course there was.” she laughed and turned to point to the boy who had now disappeared, “He went that way.  I heard him laughing so came to see what or who he was laughing at.”

 

“Aw, weren’t nothing cept Ol’ Hoss.” and he felt a little hot under the arm pits and around his neck, “Er - sorry, Ma’am, guess I should introduce myself.  I’m Hoss Cartwright.” and he extended his hand, realised he still  held his stubby old pencil in it and quickly passed it into his pocket, before extending his hand once again.  “Are you new in town?”

 

“Yes, I arrived yesterday. I’m Hester, Hester Verlaine.” she took his hand and shook it while all the times her blue eyes twinkled up at him and her smile never faltered, “I’m from New York.”

 

“Oh, New York.” Hoss crinkled his brow and thought about New York for all of ten seconds, he nodded appreciatively and smiled, “So, I guess you’re staying at the hotel, huh?”

 

“No, I’m staying at the boarding house on C street.  It’s not too expensive and quite clean.”

 

“Oh, well, that’s good.” he shuffled an imaginary pebble too and fro with his foot, while he licked his lips and looked  up and down the street, “Hester Verlaine?”

 

“Yes, that’s right, that’s my name.” she smiled and pulled her hand away, “I hope to see you again sometime, Mr Cartwright.”

 

“Oh sure, yes, I guess you will do at that, Miss - er - Miss Verlaine.”

 

He watched her as she walked away from him, and quickly pulled out the stubby pencil from his pocket and wrote very carefully on his list, “Hester Verlaine, New To Town”. he glanced up as she reached the other side of the road, “Blue eyes, red hair, freckles, a nice lady.”

 

She was a nice lady, and her hair wasn’t so much red as that rather magnificent coppery gold colour that could make the person possessing it look as though they were wearing a halo when the sun shone upon it.  She wore a smart well cut suit of pale green linen braided with dark green velvet,  and her gloves were neat and clean.  Hoss watched her as she walked to the General Store and then hurriedly turned aside when, at the doorway, she turned to glance back at him.

 

When he looked back the door was opening again and Joseph was coming out with a smile on his face. Hoss’ heart sunk to his boots, wasn’t that just typical?  Wasn’t that just the story of his life?  Joe Cartwright the great heart breaker just had to be in the store when Hester Verlaine had walked into it.  He sighed and carefully tucked his piece of paper back into his pocket along with the pencil.

 

“All done, big fella?” Joe asked with a grin and eyes twinkling.

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

“Well, don’t sound so down hearted, Hoss, there’s Hop Sings chicken dinner to look forward to , you know?  The day isn’t over just yet.”

 

“Oh yeah, sure, Hop Sing’s chicken dinner.” Hoss nodded and sighed.

 

“Not that I’ll be long hanging around afterwards.” Joe smiled slowly, “I’ve a - er - meeting for tonight that I don’t want to miss out on.”

 

“Really?  Well, you don’t surprise me.”

 

“I don’t?” Joe’s eyes widened and then he smiled slowly as he stepped in time with his brother along the board walk to where the horses were hitched.  “Aw, I guess you saw her go inside, huh?”

 

“Yeah, I did.”  Hoss took the reins of his horse and untethered them from the hitching rail.  He didn’t say a word now as he thought over how quickly his brother had got fixed up with ‘a meeting’ for tonight within minutes of meeting her.  He shook his head, it was one of those mysteries that had bothered him ever since Joe had been knee high to a grass  hopper and his abilities to charm ladies had first come to their attention.  He sighed again, and mounted into the saddle.

 

“You don’t look very happy, Hoss.” Joe observed as they trotted carefully down the street, avoiding traffic and weaving in and out of other vehicles and horses.

 

“Don’t I?” Hoss shrugged and pulled  his hat down over his eyes. 

 

Well now, he had thought it would be relatively easy to find himself a wife, what with only having one brother in town to contend with, but it just seemed that no sooner had Adam left town than Joe’s attractions for and to the opposite sex had grown out of all proportion.   He shook his head, and chewed on his inner cheek and slowly sunk deeper into the mire of self pity.

 

“… so, anyway, I couldn’t pass up on the chance, Hoss, so I asked her right out then and there, ‘What are you doing this evening?  It’s going to be a lovely evening, full of stars and a full moon.’”

 

Hoss turned, realising that his brother was chattering, disclosing the way he had seized the opportunity to go out for the evening with a complete stranger, just like that.  He rehearsed it through in his head, but somehow he just couldn’t hear himself saying the words in the same way as Joe could, and he ground his teeth together, and tightened his grip on the reins.

 

“… and she has the prettiest eyes, have you ever noticed what long lashes she has, Hoss?  I know I’ve fallen in love with lots of women, well, thought I was in love ..” Joe paused and sighed dramatically.

 

Hoss fidgeted in his saddle.  They were out of town now and he dug his heels into Chubb to encourage the horse to a faster speed, anything rather than having to listen to Joe nattering on about his latest conquest.  In love indeed?  How could anyone fall in love that quickly?

 

A wagon was coming towards them at a steady pace and he was forced to pull over, as was Joe who took off his hat and waved it to the young couple sitting on the bench seat.  Hoss hadn’t noticed who they were, but raised a  hand on noticing Joe’s action.

 

“She looks well, doesn’t she?” Joe murmured as the wagon trundled along leaving behind it a swell of dust.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Hoss glanced over his shoulder and realised he hadn’t even noticed that it was Candy and Ann Canady.  He got more annoyed with himself now than ever, he was very fond of Ann, and was looking forward to the time she and Candy had their baby.

 

It was odd really, the fact that they lived in the house that Adam had built - and nearly broken his back in doing so - for Laura and himself, and now Candy and his wife were there, with a baby of their own soon arriving to make it a family home.   He watched the wagon disappear down the track and then turned Chubb into the road for home.

 

“You seem miles away, Hoss.  Is anything bothering you?” Joe asked kindly, and his face looked anxiously at his brother.

 

“Should there be?” Hoss retorted rather heatedly, and then felt ashamed for so quickly retaliating when his brother had intended only good. 

 

“No, not really, but you do seem a bit out of sorts.”  Joe frowned, and sighed himself, “It seems a long time since we heard from Adam, doesn’t it?”

 

This line of conversation caught Hoss unawares, his mind still being on a certain red headed young lady and Joe’s ’appointment with her’, so he had to put his mood to one side and consider how he felt about not having heard from Adam for so long.  He nodded,

 

“Yeah, been a while.  Fact is, only one letter since he left ’Frisco.”

 

“Do you ever think of him out there at sea?  All that water and sea gulls and things?”

 

“Yeah, I do.” Hoss nodded emphatically and shivered, he didn’t know why, but it always made him shiver the thought of his brother in a little boat in the middle of so much sea.  He thought back to the time when Adam had come back from Alaska and all the things that had happened to him.  It had taken a long time for his ’big’ brother to settle back into the brother they had known and loved.  Memories of that ordeal  had haunted him for a long time and Hoss got to wondering just where his brother was now, and how he was faring.

 

“Do you think Pa worries about him?”

 

“Of course Pa worries about him.  Don’t you?”

 

“Yeah, I do.  Sometimes I just can’t sleep for worrying about him. Tokyo’s along way from here, ain’t it?”

 

“Sure is a bit further than Sacremento.” Hoss agreed.

 

They settled into silence now, their horses galloping along the familiar track towards the Ponderosa, their minds on one person who had once ridden by their sides.  Joe shivered now, and he glanced over at Hoss and wondered if his brother had noticed, it was just that sometimes he got very afraid that Adam would never come back home again.   Even though it was easy enough to get  used to his brother not being with them, it wasn’t so easy to get used to the thought of his brother never coming home.   It was much easier to assume he would walk through that door again - one day.

 

They didn’t speak again until they arrived home, and led their horses into the stalls.  Hoss wasn’t going out again so he carefully unsaddled Chubb, removed his saddle blanket and the harness and bridle, then he began to carefully groom him and brush him down, ran his hands down the animals legs to check that there was no cause for alarm, no indication of any injury.  In Cochise’s stall, Joe was doing the same, talking quietly to his horse as had become his habit over the years.

 

“Hoss?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I was thinking -”

 

“Congratulations.  It doesn’t happen often but when it does -” Hoss clicked his fingers and grinned, his good humour slowly returning as it often did when he was busy with his horse. There was something about grooming Chubb that always eased him out of a bad mood.

 

Joe chuckled, as was expected, but he was pleased at Hoss’ resumption of good humour.  He didn’t speak for a moment or two while he considered the subject he was about to discuss, then he cleared his throat.

 

“I was thinking that it was time I settled down”

 

“How’d ya mean - settle down whar?”

 

“You know - settle down, get married, have a family.  That kind of thing.”

 

“Oh, I see.”

 

They relapsed back into silence and Hoss wondered whether or not it had anything to do with the woman he had met in town, or whether it was someone else, the young girl that Joe had seemed to be talking about so much lately.  He bowed his head and mentally apologised to his brother in case he had misjudged him earlier.

 

“I thought perhaps how it’s been some years since Little Moon died, and - well - perhaps it was time to consider getting married.  What do you think?”

 

“Wal, you ain’t getting any younger,” came the quiet reply, “and you certainly ain’t gitting any prettier.”

 

Joe smiled and closed his eyes dreamily.  He drew in his breath and remembered how Victoria Shannon had turned to look at him when he had met her in the General Stores earlier. That look had held such promise …

 

……………………

 

The light tapping on the door roused Adam from his perusal of Charles Dickens story of Oliver Twist.  He dragged his mind from comparing Mr Bumble’s rumbling cry of ’MORE!’ with Hoss’ demands for seconds of everything that Hop Sing could rustle up and called out “Enter -”

 

“Captain - it’s the lady -” Mike Scott murmured.

 

“What lady?” Adam removed his feet from resting upon the seat of a chair opposite to him, and swung himself around, “Do you mean the prisoner, Scott?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Then what about her?”

 

Scott sighed and shrugged, rolled his  eyes and swept out his hands in a gesture of dismay,

 

“She’s complaining about the food.”

 

“Why?  What’s wrong with the food?”

 

“She says it’s not fit to eat.   There’s worms in the biscuits and the meat’s rotten.  She wants to eat the same as the Captain.”

 

“Oh.”  Adam sighed and frowned, “Well, tell Mrs Pelman, that she doesn’t have worms in her biscuits, they’re weevils.   And tell her she eats the same food that I do …” he paused, “so if she has any complaints take them to the cook, not to me.  I’m not interested in her diet.”

 

“She threw the food at the Marine.”

 

“Then leave her to clear the mess up and tell her we’re on short rations, she’s had her mid day meal and must now wait until supper.”

 

“She’ll probably throw the coffee pot at me.”

 

“Then duck, man.” Adam growled deep in his throat, and wished he had left the wretched woman to languish on The Baltimore.  “She should be grateful to be given a pot of coffee.”

 

“I’ll tell her, sir.”

 

“You do that -” Adam replied and returned to the plight of poor Oliver, bringing his feet back to the seat of the chair opposite and allowing his mind to wander back to the time when the great Charles Dickens had graced Virginia City with his presence and publicly read from his stories.  It all seemed like a different world to the one in which he now existed. It was, in fact, rather sadly becoming just another fading memory of happier times.  He closed his book, the mood for reading had passed and he rose to his feet. 

 

 

Chapter 70

 

His footsteps upon the deck were becoming familiar to her ears now.  She found herself listening for them in the evenings and during the days.  He wasn’t light on his feet, for he wasn’t a small lightweight of a man but well built with a confident tread upon the boards.  She recognised the way his heel came down hard, followed by the toe, a slight bounce, before the other foot came done. 

 

Once she distinguished his foot steps she would then listen to pick up his voice.  It was a deep voice, slightly drawled at times, slightly clipped at others.   In the confined space of the berth to which she had been assigned she would imagine what he was doing once he had walked the space between his cabin and the deck.  She would try and imagine his voice in different settings, mellow and kind, romantic and tender.  It was a voice, she realised more than ever, to which she could listen as he read poetry, and perhaps, she surmised, he could sing.

 

Like a caged tigress she would pace her cabin, before throwing herself upon the trestle bed in an attempt to sleep.  At times it was too hot, and she would throw off her gown and recline upon the tumbled sheets in her chemise.  Sometimes it would be too cold and she would pull blankets over herself  until she fell asleep.

 

But, always, his footsteps would come and penetrate her consciousness so that she would steal to the door and press herself against it to listen.  If he paused by her door, his footsteps did not betray him;  if he stopped in mid-step to wonder about her well being, there was no obvious indication.   The footsteps would pass and his voice would reach her from some part of the ship as he spoke to one of his officers or crew.

 

The sea was a glassy green and the waves rose and fell, and sometimes the ship shuddered.   She walked to the door and banged against it, banged hard with her fists.

 

“What is it now?” a voice demanded.

 

“I want hot water to bathe in, you idiot.”

 

“Oh yes, and I suppose perfumed oil and the rest …” a coarse laugh followed.

 

“Just some hot water, stupid.”

 

She listened as someone spoke to the Marine, by pressing really close she recognised the voice of the steward, Scott. He had been kindly disposed earlier, not quite so much now.

The voice mumbled and Scott mumbled something more, and then she recognised the footsteps that approached, stopped, and the dark voice asking what was going on.

 

“Mrs Pelman wants some hot water.” Scott replied, “To bathe with …” there was a pause “It’s quite hot and stuffy in there, sir, and -”

 

“That’s enough, Scott.” the three words were enough to send the steward away, and the Marine’s heels clicked as though to attention.

 

She bowed her head, concentrating in order to hear him say something, but she heard only the footsteps walking away from the door.   Ten minutes later the door opened and two men came into the cabin carrying two large pails of hot water, a towel and some soap were placed upon a chair. The pails were left on the floor for her to deal with herself.  So, she had been permitted her water, and even soap for her ablutions.  She chalked that up as a success.

 

………………..

 

It was a full moon and the stars shone overhead like a canopy covered in sequins and diamonds.  Side by side in the Cartwright’s newest buggy the young couple sat, not exactly shoulder to shoulder, nor arm in arm, but close enough to be aware of the warmth of each other’s body; he could smell her perfume, light and flowery while she could smell leather and pine as well as the maleness of him.

 

“Victoria, do you - could  you ever imagine living here for the rest of  your life?”

 

“Do you think you could, Joe?”

 

“Yes, of course, it’s my home.”

 

“You wouldn’t want to travel?  Perhaps to Europe?  Or even to Switzerland and Austria?”

 

“Would you?”

 

“Yes, I’d like to see what other countries were like.  I’d want to go beyond the confines of this territory.”

 

Joe sighed and twisted the toggle on his jacket, he cleared  his throat and frowned ever so slightly as he gazed wistfully up at the stars,

 

“I guess you feel that way because you left here and went away for a while …”

 

“But so did you, didn’t you?”

 

He looked at her, and saw her looking at him, her eyes gentle on his face and her lips parted in a smile, kind and soft, he reached out with his hand and his fingers just lightly touched hers.  She didn’t move them away.

 

“Yes, I left the Ponderosa for a while.”

 

“And you found someone you loved?”

 

“Yes, I did.  Have you never been in love before, Victoria?”

 

“Yes.” the answer came swiftly, it caught him by surprise as he had anticipated a modest and maidenly ‘Oh no!’  “Yes, long ago, I fell in love with a very mischievous little boy at school.  He was always in scrapes, and always causing chaos in the class room.  Then I went away and I thought I was in love with a young man.” she paused then and he could see quite clearly the light furrows in her brow and the way her eyes clouded over, “His name was Roger, and he was a very attractive and intelligent person, he courted me with such persistence that I really thought he loved me.”

 

“And didn’t he?”

 

“In his own way perhaps he did.  I did care for him. I thought I was in love with him too, for a while.”  she paused and sighed, he could see the rise and fall of her breast against the soft lemon silk shawl she had around her shoulders, “But I was wrong, it wasn’t love, just a silly infatuation because my head was turned by his attentions to me. I’m afraid I hurt him a lot when I left.”

 

He didn’t say ‘Poor Roger’ although he could sympathise.  His fingers tightened around hers and she leaned closer towards him.   They sat in silence for a little while, both deep in thought, perhaps about past loves, perhaps about new ones …

 

“Are you cold?” he said eventually.

 

“Just a little …”

 

“Here -” he slipped off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, and then kept his arm close around her, inevitably she drew closer towards him so that their bodies leaned in towards each other and their shoulders touched.

 

“If you were to marry someone who lived here, Victoria, and they didn’t want to travel the world, would you mind?”

 

“If he loved me, I wouldn’t mind.” she smiled but didn’t say what she was thinking, that in a while she would get him to change his mind, if he really loved her.

 

She leaned her head upon his shoulder and sighed.  It was a wonderful safe place to be, her head seemed to fit perfectly into the hollow upon his chest beneath his collar bone. He could smell her hair as he leaned his head closer against her own.

 

They sat there for a little while, a dark silhouette against the fullness of the moon that seemed to have settled on the horizon beyond them.  Then, somehow, with one accord, they turned towards each other and gently their lips touched, a tender soft kiss.

 

“Will you marry me, Victoria?”

 

“Yes, Joe, yes, if you really love me.”

 

“I do, Victoria, I do love you.” he kissed her again, his lips harder, more demanding, then gentle and soft. “I love you so much.”

 

“I think I have always loved you, Little Joe Cartwright.” she whispered.

 

“Can I call you Vicky?” he sighed, his breath soft against her mouth and her assent was lost in another kiss, one that was long and everything the kiss between a young couple in love should, and could, be.

 

…………………….

 

Ben leaned down and lit a taper which when caught by the fire he used to light his pipe.  He drew upon it for a while until the tobacco was well caught and then looked up over at Hoss who was scowling at a piece of paper in his hand,

 

“Anything important, Hoss.”

 

“Not really, Pa.”

 

“You’ve done nothing but pull it out of your pocket and stare at it all evening.”

 

“Aw, no, I ain’t  -” he frowned, “Have I?”

 

“Yeah, you have.”

 

“Wal, it ain’t nothing important.” and to prove it he rolled it into a ball and tossed it into the fire. 

 

They both watched it catch light and burst into flames, a glowing smouldering ball of fire among the logs. 

 

“Joe took the best buggy,” Hoss said, and stretched out his legs in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

 

“Mmmm, well, I said he could.”

 

“Guess he’s taking a young lady out again tonight.”

 

“You make it sound as though he takes a new woman out every night -” Ben replied with a slight chuckle in his voice.  “No, he’s taking Victoria out again, he’s quite smitten with her.”

 

Hoss gulped, his Adam’s apple jerked convulsively and he had trouble clearing his throat.  He looked over at his father,

 

“Were you much disappointed when Adam and Barbara’s romance ended, Pa?”

 

“A little, I thought she was a good match for him. Intelligent, hard working and attractive.  She was genuinely fond of him, but -”

 

“Don’t you think he loved her?”

 

“I think he did.  Perhaps he still does.” Ben’s voice lowered, and he drew harder on the stem of the pipe as he thought of his eldest son, “Some things just aren’t destined to be, Hoss.  Adam’s logic and sense of fair play got in the way - in some ways he was right, but - I don’t know - sometimes logic and fair play don’t compensate for love.”

 

“If he had married her, you’d have a grand child here by now.” Hoss looked into his father’s face and saw the gentle expression that passed over it, then the way the brow knitted as though his father chose not to dwell too much upon such a thought, “Wouldn’t you have liked that, Pa?”

 

“Of course, every man wants a son, and then, rather greedily, hopes for a grandchild to continue the family name.”

 

“And the Ponderosa should have children, shouldn’t it?”

 

Ben glanced over at Hoss and frowned more deeply,

 

“Is this conversation leading anywhere in particular, Hoss?  Have you done anything that I should know about?”

 

“Shucks no, Pa, I just - was thinking - that’s all.”

 

“Well, things follow a natural course, son.  First a wife, then the children come along … how many times have I thought one of you would get yourself a wife and found that for some reason or another -” he shrugged.

 

“Weren’t always our fault, Pa.”

 

“Herhmmm.” Ben said nothing to that until after a few moments had elapsed he suggested getting out the checker board.  “I bet I beat you 3 games straight tonight, Hoss.”

 

The fire glowed, the ball of paper was now a black pile of ash slowly disintegrating into the hearth, a log settled noisily into the grate and the clock struck the hour.   Hoss set up the board and passed over the checkers to his father, at the back of his mind he kept repeating one name … Hester … Hester Verlaine.

 

……………………..

 

The soap smelt good, and at last she could smell her hair without feeling dirty.  She splashed perfume over her body and combed some into her hair which she then coiled carefully leaving some to curl seductively upon her neck.  Now she slipped on a clean chemise, and over that a pale oyster pink satin dress.  

 

She peered through the door, and recognised the Marine as the younger one that had the 3 hours duty before supper.  She smiled and sat down, stretched out  her legs so that her feet reclined upon some books she had found.  After a while she heard ‘his’ footsteps, they passed her cabin with the usual confident stride, wide and purposeful.  She heard them mount the ladder to the bridge. 

 

The song she sang was an old one, old and familiar, a love song written by a young King of England for a woman who was not his wife, but was one day to become such and as a result overturn all the world by the religious upheaval it would bring.

 

“Alas, my love, you do me wrong,

To cast me off discourteously

For I have loved you well and long,

Delighting in your company.

 

Greensleeves was all my joy

Greensleeves was my delight

Greensleeves was my heart of gold,

And who but my lady green sleeves.

 

Alas My love, that you should own

A heart of wanton vanity

So must I meditate alone

Upon your insincerity.”

 

On the bridge Adam narrowed his eyes, a frown furrowed his brow and he half turned his head as though attentively listening to the music.  His eyes glanced upon the men who had paused, stopped to listen, their own faces turned towards the sound of the woman singing.

 

Seamen were notoriously superstitious, and to bring a woman on board ship was always considered to be a sign of bad luck.  Adam had never given sway to such rubbish, but he respected the men and their feelings.  He also knew that some men there had not seen wives, sisters, daughters or lovers for many a month, and nothing could bring down the spirits of a man more quickly than to become embroiled in the emotional misery of reminiscence which would arouse other more warm feelings. He knew only too well that those feelings could give way to discontent, and a discontented crew soon became niggardly and troublesome.

 

Among the men on deck was young Griffin Mayhew and with a click of the fingers Adam summoned him to the bridge,

 

“Mr Mayhew, why not get your flute and play the men a merry song, something to dance to …” he turned then to Kenney  “Mr Kenney, I believe you are very good on the Jew’s harp, so why don’t you and Mr Mayhew get together for some rousing music.” he watched as both men hurried to their cabin, and then turned to Hathaway, “Give the men an extra ration of rum, it’s a fine evening, and all’s well.”

 

He watched Hathaway go with an alacrity that brought a slight smile to his lips, and then he turned to face the breeze that was warm to his face.  He half closed his eyes, and waited while all the time Cassandra sang her song

 

“Your vows you’ve broken, like my heart,

Oh why did you so enrapture me?

But my heart remains in captivity ..”

 

The sound of the flute and the jew’s harp broke through her warbling like a clash of thunder.  For a moment she was surprised, stepped back from the door as though physically struck, and then curled her hands into fists and gave the door a hefty thump, heard only by the Marine who guarded it.

 

A seaman brought out a penny whistle, and another produced his fiddle, grog was poured into the cups that went around, and within a few minutes there came the sound of men dancing, their heavy shoes clumping on the deck as they passed and repassed one another in a typical sailor’s horn pipe.

 

Men cheered, they clapped, they drank their grog and sang along to the music and all thoughts of sweet hearts and loved ones were consigned once again into the secret caves of their hearts. 

 

On the bridge Adam nodded in tune to the music, but his eyes were fixed on the door where the Marine leaned down as though to listen to the sounds from within the cabin.  He raised his eyebrows and then, with his hands clasped behind his back, watched his men at their enjoyment.

 

Chapter 71

 

The Captain’s cabin was not overly large, on a clipper ship such as the Shenandoah, space was of a premium and even the Officers had to share their berths.  So it was that Adam’s cabin, with desk, stove, book shelves ranging the walls, one comfortable chair, several narrow not so comfortable chairs, a low table, and against the far wall, a narrow bed, could be considered cramped but cosy.

 

Sergeant Jonas Armstrong stood at attention in front of the Captain now, his chest thrust forward, chin tucked in and shoulders full square.  He looked his Captain in the face and waited for his orders.  Years earlier he could recall to mind the day Adam Cartwright stepped foot on the Ainola under Captain Greaves, a tall dark eyed thoughtful young man with age and a lack of sea faring experience against him.  He, Armstrong, had been one of the marines  under the command of Sergeant John Smith at the time, and had served on the Ainola a mere three months longer that Adam.  By the time they parted company he, like many others of the marine corps, would have followed the Lieutenant, as he was then, into the jaws of death itself.  Now he stood here, and waited to hear what the Captain had to say,

 

“Armstrong, I want you to remove the Marine from guard duty and make sure he has no further contact with Mrs Pelman whatsoever.” Adam looked up at the strong face of the other man, he didn’t expect to see a single muscle twitch nor any question of doubt appear in the pale blue eyes, Armstrong merely nodded his head once, “Make sure you use only older and more experienced men.”

 

“I will, sir.”

 

“Thanks, Armstrong,” Adam smiled, his tone softening from Commanding Officer to old sea friend, but only for an instant, Armstrong would not have respected it for longer, and discipline for an old warrior such as he was imperative.

 

When Armstrong had closed the door behind him, Adam walked over to his desk and checked the log, made a swift notation, and then sat down, picked up his pen and dipped it into the ink well.  Pausing for reflection, he looked down upon the letter he had been writing, then put pen to paper, continuing from where he had left off earlier

 

“… and so we are now making our way to Tokyo.  Daniel, in The Baltimore, is straining to keep up with us.  By that I mean, not that he is struggling to keep up with us, but that he is holding back his ship in order to accommodate us.  Steam is faster, no doubt about it and when the wind luffs, as it keeps doing just now, I know Daniel is having a good laugh at our expense.

 

It seems strange to think that I now have Mrs Pelman in custody.   After all this time and with Pelman himself dead, as is her brother, Jeffrey Metcalfe, I still feel anxious about her.  She is corrupt to the bone, manipulative, and without any morals whatsoever.  I feel that she is the kind of rare person that has no conscience, no concept of what is right and wrong, only the concept of the here and now, what she can get for herself with no consideration of the consequences to anyone else.

 

I wouldn’t doubt that she would quite easily bring about a mutiny on board this ship, another reason why I wanted to sail with The Baltimore as a close companion.  If she doesn’t create a mutiny, then perhaps she will set fire to the ship, or cause some mischief.   I just somehow doubt the possibility of arriving in Tokyo with either Mrs Pelman still in custody or the ship intact.”

 

He paused as there came a light knock on the door and when he called ‘Enter’, a young man stepped into the cabin.  Rather shyly he removed his hat which he tucked under his arm, and then snapped a salute in respect of his Captain, although there was something in his poise and demeanour that indicated some defiance.   Armstrong followed behind him, then stepped to his side, saluted Adam

 

“This is Cadet Stanley Phillips, sir.  He has requested permission to speak with you on - er - the matter of -” he paused as he caught Adam’s dark eyes looking straight into his face, and the uncompromising blank look on his Commanding Officer’s face made him blanche a little, he gulped, “his removal from guard duty.”

 

Adam switched his dark gaze to the younger man, his face remained emotionless although a pulse beat alarmingly at his temple,

 

“You’re questioning my order, Cadet?”

 

“I - I - well - no, sir.”

 

“Then why are you here?”

 

Adam leaned back in his chair, one hand rested upon the desk, the pen still between his fingers, while with his other hand he tapped impatiently against his thigh.  Back home his brothers would have had the sense to start backing off.

 

“Mrs Pelman asked me to deliver a message to you, sir.”

 

“You’ve been talking with the prisoner?” the face remained impersonal, but there was a slight edge to his voice now, he raised one hand to his brow and rubbed it with his forefinger.

 

“She talks through the door at me, sir. I - I don‘ t actually hold a conversation with her.”

 

“What exactly were your orders, sir?”

 

“To stand guard outside Mrs Pelman’s cabin for a full watch, daily.”

 

“Anything else?”

 

“Not to have any discussion, conversation with her.”

 

“And yet you’re here now to deliver a message from her?”

 

“Captain, I didn’t disobey orders.  Believe me.  I just stood there and she talked.  I couldn’t tell the lady not to talk, after all, she’s alone, and in that cabin, and it gets frightfully hot in there.” he paused, bit his lip and realised he wasn’t actually doing the best out of a bad job, “I mean, I felt kinda sorry for the lady, after all.”

 

“What’s the message?”

 

“She wants to talk with you, about getting some fresh air, some freedoms.”

 

Adam coughed, anything to disguise the rising anger that came into his throat.  He looked at Armstrong and dismissed the man with a nod of the head, then looked at Phillips,

 

“How long have you been serving on board the Shenandoah?”

 

“I came on board at Tokyo, sir.”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“21, sir.”

 

“Where are you from?”

 

“California, sir.”

 

“Mrs Pelman is our prisoner, and my orders are to bring her to Tokyo.  You’re young and inexperienced, Cadet, but I would have thought even so you would have known better than to have disobeyed orders -” he raised a hand when Phillips opened his mouth to protest, “and to have the - audacity - to carry a message from her to your Commanding Officer.”

 

“I wasn’t sure what else to do, sir, after all I promised -”

 

“You ‘promised’!” Adam exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up and the dark eyes widening.

 

“She’s a lady, sir.”

 

Adam stood up, to Stanley Phillips he seemed to rear up like some Goliath from behind the desk, and he felt his knees knock together.  He watched as Adam walked briskly around the desk, and then paused when he came to stand beside him,

 

“Come with me.” the Captain said in a quiet and solemn tone of voice.

 

Phillips followed Adam from the cabin and across the deck, down to the lower deck, and to where Soames worked in the sick bay.  The smell of vomit, excrement, body heat, were mixed together with those of soap, disinfectant, and the heavy odour of laudanum, morphine and other medications.  Adam led the way, removing his hat as he entered the sick bay, he nodded over to Soames who rose to his feet solemnly, and glanced from Adam to the young marine, his eyebrows raised in confusion,

 

“Dr Soames, are these men the crew from The Baltimore?” he gestured towards a row of man who were lethargically stretched out upon hammock after hammock.

 

“These are those who have survived so far.  I’m hopeful that a few others will, but -” he shook his head, “I can’t guarantee it for all.”

 

Adam turned to Phillips and inclined his head to one side as he observed the young man,

 

“You know what happened to The Baltimore, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“The reason why we came here?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“I want you to walk through this room, observe the men here.  I want you to remember that each and every one of them is a victim, of that woman’s actions.  Go ahead …” he swept his hand forward, and watched the youth falter, then step resolutely forward.

 

It took him less than five minutes to walk down the aisle and back again, by which time he had his head bowed and his lips clamped in to a narrowed bloodless line.

 

“Well, sir?  Do you still have sympathies for a woman who should, by rights, be in the brig instead of enjoying the comforts of my first Officer’s cabin?”

 

“No, sir.” the voice was low and husky.  “But she said that -”

 

“SHE said?”

 

“That it was her husband and brother, she had no idea what was happening and …”

 

“Don’t say another word, sir.” Adam raised his hand, and led the way out of the sick bay and back onto the deck.  “Sergeant Armstrong -”  Jonas came immediately to Adam’s side, Adam then turned to look at Stanley Phillips long and hard, “Sergeant, Cadet Phillips is to attend this sick bay every day and to do whatever Dr Soames tells him.  He is to go nowhere near the deck or the cabin which holds the prisoner.  Should he do so, he is to be charged and put in the brig.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Armstrong saluted, Phillips did so also and Adam strode away back to his cabin. 

 

The two marines stood silently side by side for a moment until the Captain was out of sight, then Jonas turned to the younger man,

 

“You got away with it mighty easy there, Phillips.”

 

“D’you think so, sergeant?”

 

“I know so, sir.  Because if it had been me I wouldn’t have spent five minutes discussing the matter over with you, you ignorant, stupid little man, I would have had you taken down to the brig and left in solitary.”

 

“But -”

 

“But?  But?”  Jonas swelled up like one of the toads that swell in the Florida swamps during mating time, “don’t argue with me, cadet.  You compromised your position, you disobeyed orders, you let down the Marine Corps on board this ship.   Now, you had better get on with your duties forthwith before I have you clapped in chains.”

 

……………..

 

In his cabin Adam walked to the port hole in his cabin and gazed out to sea.  The sight of the waves rippling unceasingly to the horizon did nothing to lift his spirits, nor to quell the anxiety that trickled through him like electricity, the kind before a storm that sets the hairs on one’s body standing on end.

 

He should have had the boy sent to the brig instead of talking the matter over, he told himself as his mouth narrowed and his eyes half closed. He bowed his head, and sighed. Joe would have done exactly the same though, he’d have listened to sweet talk from a pretty woman and believed everything she had said to him.  Phillips was young, he had been noticed as a promising Marine, one with a future ahead of him.  How fair was it to ruin his chances because of Cassandra Pelman.  Hadn’t she victims enough already?   Why add Phillips to the tally.

 

He glanced over at the desk and his unfinished letter.   But he no longer had it in his heart to write any more.   He paced the floor and then, mind made  up, he strode out of the cabin and across the deck.

 

She could heard his footsteps, clipped and moving fast.  By the time he had reached the door she was seated by the window, elegantly draped over the chair, her long hair loose and curling across her shoulder, the perfume intoxicatingly heavy in the air.  A shaft of light from the doorway shone across her, at the slim body, and the long shapely legs.  She half rose, as though in surprise, before sinking back into the chair.

 

“Captain?  I - I didn’t think …” she lowered her head, cast down her eyes, and looked like a virginal martyr about to be served up to the lions.

 

“Mrs Pelman, I understand that you find your quarters too small and too hot for your comfort?”

 

“Well, yes, a little.” she looked up at him and her long lashes fluttered as though she found the light too strong after so many days in darkness.

 

“And you would like to walk around the deck and get some fresh air?”

 

“Oh yes, indeed.” she put her hands together as though in supplication and her large eyes widened while her lips smiled, exposing her perfectly white teeth.

 

Adam looked at her, for a full minute he allowed his eyes to look upon that face.  She was a beautiful woman.  He remembered the moment she had walked, no, swept into the Eugenes room and announced about the destruction of his ship, The Ainola, and her beauty had taken his breath away, caught up in that instant of time as she swept through the door, her clothes swirling, her face flushed … he released his breath and then turned, clicked his fingers and two seamen entered the cabin.

 

“Take all the furniture out of here except the bed, one chair, and that small table.” he ordered.

 

“What are you doing?  I don’t understand?”

 

“You said you wanted to walk?  I’m afraid the deck is off limits for you, Madam.  By removing most of the furniture you now have ample room to walk and exercise.  If you want to do so with some fresh air, I suggest you open the port hole.  But not on days when the weather is inclement.”

 

“You can’t be serious?” she stepped forwards,  her hands spread out in appeal, “are you mad?”

 

“No, Madam, not at all.  If I were to comply with regulations you should be locked behind bars in the brig where there is no fresh air, and your companions would be the rats.  As it is, my first Officer has provided you with his cabin while he shares a cabin with two other men in one far smaller than this.”

 

“Adam -” she cried out his name and grasped for his hand which he withdrew before her fingers could touch his flesh, “You hate me?  Why?  It wasn‘t my fault, all that has happened, it wasn’t my fault.  Please, please, believe me?”

 

He said nothing, but waited until the last piece of furniture had been taken from the room.  He glanced around, and then looked at her.  A tear rolled down her cheek and he knew that had it been anyone else, any other woman, he would have reached out, wiped it from that smooth porcelain skin but he merely turned his head away,

 

“Am I so ugly then that you can’t bear to look upon me?” she cried with a sob in her voice.

 

Now he turned and looked at her, frowned and shook his head.

 

“You’re a beautiful woman, Cassandra Pelman.  But when I look at your face I see only a burning ship, nine of my men stretched out on the quayside in San Francisco, and I see you, triumphant and smiling as you told me my ship was burning.   That’s what I see when I look into your face, Madam, I see the faces of my crewmen  …” he turned now, and without looking back stepped from the cabin, and closed the door behind him.

 

For a moment she stood there, staring at the closed door.  Then she ran at it, clenched her hands into fists and pummelled at the wooden planks, kicked at them, and shouted and screamed and swore at him as his footsteps merely returned him to his cabin, and once there he closed his door and walked to the port hole to gaze out at the never ending sea.

 

 

 

Chapter 72

 

Everyone loved a party, and the Ponderosa Parties were legendary throughout the territory.  Those who were invited placed their invitations proudly on their mantles so every visitor could see it, and those who were not invited did everything they possibly could think of in order to gain one.  It didn’t always succeed but occasionally someone got a pleasant surprise.

 

Hoss was as excited about Joe and Victoria’s engagement as he possibly could be, although he now realised it also removed from him the obligation of finding himself a wife of his own.  He was perfectly confident that once the couple were married then babies would be arriving at the Ponderosa sufficiently quickly for Ben to be made more than happy.  He could relax.  He felt a burden lifted from his shoulders.  For the first time in days he went about his chores whistling and humming little tunes to himself.

 

“Hi Adam,

 

It’s the 16^th of the month here, and the weather is fine.  In fact everything’s fine.”

 

He cleared his throat and concentrated. Writing a letter to his brother was something Hoss liked to do as often as possible, and then, when it was long enough he would seal it up and send it off.  It could contain the events of a week or those of a month.  But whatever it contained it was always written with a great deal of concentration .

 

“This week end we’re holding a party.  It’s a real special party, brother, because Shortshanks has gotten hisself” he crossed that out “himself a finance.   You remember little Victoria Shannon, Caleb’s daughter?   Well, he done popped the question to her and she said yes.  So, by the time you get home there will be a Mrs Cartwright in the house again.

 

“Pa’s mighty pleased about it all because somehow he felt responsible for what happened to Caleb.  Of course we keep telling him Caleb was responsible for what happened and it could have been a whole lot worse, after all, we could have lost the Ponderosa due to his shenannnaguns” he crossed that out as well “illegal dealings.   But, you know Pa, and he felt responsible for Victoria, wanting to make sure she was safe and well. Now he’s happy because she’ll be here at the Ponderosa and he can really keep an eye on her.

 

“Of course Hop Sing wasn’t too happy at first.  It’s a long time since he’s shared the kitchen with anyone.  He seems more settled about it now and is busy getting things ready for the party.

 

Sure can’t tell you how relieved I am that Joe has found himself a woman at last. I was beginning to think I would have to go git myself a wife.  I tell ya, brother, women here are still in short supply and those that are available just don’t seem to fit in with ol’ Hoss’ idea of a wife.”

 

He paused then, with a sigh he scratched the back of his neck with the pen which left a black ink blob on his collar.  He looked up and stared at the far wall, then scowled as a name drifted across  his memory and a picture of a tall young woman with red hair and blue eyes flashed into view.  It was gone in an instant, so swiftly in fact that he could pretend to himself that it had never happened.

 

“I shall write another time and tell you how the party went, and how things are going here.  Candy and Ann are well settled in your house, and the baby won’t be long in coming now.  I guess they’ll be coming to the party, Joe being so friendly with him an’ all.”

 

He put away the pen and closed the lid on the ink pot.  He held the letter up and read it through and nodded, it was one of his neater efforts, and he slipped it into the envelope that contained several other letters addressed to his brother.  They would be posted off after the party, and he gave the envelope a light tap with his fingers as he walked away from his desk.

 

He stared out of his bedroom window and looked up at the stars, the moon was drifting along and there were no clouds.  Just the slightest of breezes ruffled the leaves on the trees and somewhere an owl whooped.  He liked the night sounds, they were always reassuring to him.  Another day had ended and another was about to be born.

 

Down in the yard he saw Joe walking over to the corral, and he watched as his brother paused for a moment and raised his head to look at the stars above him.  In such a vast expanse one can feel so small, so insignificant.  It was the one time that Hoss ever felt like that, but then the one before whom he was standing was the one who had created all things anyway, so that was to be expected.

 

………………….

 

For some hours the motion of the ship had been increasingly turbulent as the wind increased to 25 knots (27 mph approx).   It was not a wind force to cause a seaman much anxiety, and on land would have been sufficient to move large branches, make telegraph wires sing, perhaps turn an umbrella inside out.  It was driving behind the ships so that the Shenandoah was actually going at a good pace alongside the Baltimore.  

 

On the bridge Adam watched his men at work.  He walked down to check the binnacle every so often and then checked with the helmsman that they were remaining on course.  He watched the sky carefully but there was no sign of any heavy clouds, only blue skies and the faintest puff of cloud to mar them. 

 

“I don’t like havin’ wimmin about, not on ship -”

 

Adam leaned over the rail to see who was speaking and noticed several seamen in a tight knot together.  The ship pitched a little and they steadied  up, Adam had to step back to keep his balance.  The wind was building up.

 

“Wimmin on board ship are the very devil of a thing,” another seaman muttered.

 

“I hear tell this one’s a looker though -”

 

“So what?  She’s still a woman, ain’t she?”

 

“Yeah, but a good looking one.”

 

“Ain’t no difference.  You tell ’im, Jeb?”

 

“S’true, this ain’t no place for a woman, and I hear that even though she’s a looker, she’s trouble.  She’s out to make trouble for the Captain.”

 

“How’d you know that?”

 

“Obvious, ain’t it?”

 

Their voices faded into mumbles and when Adam glanced over the rail again they were gone, scrambling about their duties and cursing women in general like all seamen until they got to land, and returned to their wives and sweethearts, or the prostitutes in the brothels.  Then when they returned on board the women were the worse problem in the world yet again, either because they wanted to be wed, or there was a baby on the way, or a new baby had arrived, or there was some unwanted disease that had somehow arrived along with their pleasure.  Life - it was either swings or roundabouts for a seaman as far as women were concerned, but on board ship … there was no place for them

 

Adam could see O’Brien quite clearly on the Baltimore.  He wondered if he had been wise to have insisted on taking Cassandra Pelman on board the Shenandoah, but then his orders were to arrest her and escort her to Tokyo, along with finding O’Brien and Hampton, and returning with the Baltimore.  

 

Obviously it would have been easier for him to have given the responsibility to O’Brien, but he was the senior Officer, and as such there was no bending of the rules.  He noticed O’Brien looking over at him and raised a hand in salute, he received an answering smile and a salute in return.

 

In the cabin Cassandra rolled on the bed.  One moment her stomach was at her throat and another moment down in her ankles or floating ceiling wards.  She was sweating and shivering at the same time, and more than once she had vomited.   She had never had she felt so ill, and she began to cry, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes while at the same time bawling like a baby.

 

It was the cook’s scullion, the lad who delivered the food for her to eat, under escort by the Marine on duty, who found her so ill who ran to find Dr Soames while the Marine stood at the doorway keeping an eye on her.  Not that she was likely to run away, it was quite obvious that she could no more stand on her feet than walk.

 

The ship heaved again and she groaned, and heaved herself … once again vomit slewed onto the floor.  She looked a bedraggled cheese coloured mess and for once in her life she didn’t care.  She clutched at the sheets now, hoping above hope that they would keep her secure on the bed from which she was terrified of falling.

 

“Mrs Pelman?”  Soames looked down at her and grimaced, obviously a bad case of sea sickness, and he shook his head in sympathy.   He took her hand and felt her pulse, put a cool hand on her brow and nodded, then he turned to the Marine, “Fetch me some warm water and towels.”

 

The Marine, deciding it was bad enough having to stand guard duty over the woman, and that he was certainly not going to be nursemaid as well, beckoned over a seaman and repeated the doctors request.   The seaman preferring not to be involved with the woman delivered the message to one of the midshipmen who hurried to comply.

 

 Within half an hour Soames had cleaned Cassandra up, given her a draught to calm her stomach, and got a seaman in to swab up the floor.   When he finally left the cabin the air smelt slightly fresher, she looked decidedly cleaner and was finally sleeping.

 

He tapped lightly on Adam’s door and entered with a slight sense of misgiving, Adam looked up and frowned,

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Does there have to be anything wrong?” Soames smiled, but he still looked pensive and uneasy.

 

“Not necessarily, but you look as though you’ve bad news to tell me, so, whatever it is, you had best tell me right out.”

 

Soames smiled again, this time with a more relaxed air about him,

 

“You do make my task so much easier, Adam, when you can diagnose my moods so accurately.”

 

Adam merely smiled in return and rose to his feet, poured sherry into two glasses and passed one over to the doctor,

 

“You’ve been to see Mrs Pelman?”

 

“How did you know that?  Oh, stupid question, it’s not as though we’re actually separated by millions of miles is it?”  Soames sipped the sherry, and nodded, “Bad case of sea sickness.”

 

“Really?” Adam frowned, “I would have thought she would have suffered that from day one, rather than now …”

 

“Oh, she’s sick alright, probably the fact that we’re having some turbulence.”

 

Adam nodded and slid slightly lower in his chair while he nursed his glass between his long fingers, Soames continued …

 

“I’ve given her something to help her sleep.  She should be, at least, a little more rested by the time she wakes  up.”

 

Adam nodded again and took a sip of the sherry before putting the glass onto a table, he looked at Soames thoughtfully, and then looked away.

 

“We should be in Tokyo soon.”

 

“You’ll be glad to lose your passenger there, won’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You know they may want you to take her to America from there, don’t  you?”

 

“I hope not -” Adam sighed, “I’d prefer it if someone else had the responsibility.”

 

“I’m surprised, actually, that your orders were to take her to Tokyo and not directly to America.”

 

“Well,” Adam shrugged, “Orders are orders … who are we to question them?” he frowned slightly, “Although, to be honest with you, Doctor, I was surprised myself.”

 

 

Chapter 73

 

If only she could get some air .. Clean air that would restore her spirits enough to start thinking clearly again.  Nearly a whole day had passed and all she had been able to do was sleep, sweat and pray that she wouldn’t vomit again.  Even now her throat burned and her stomach felt sore, but the misery of the previous hours were behind her as she stumbled across the floor towards the port hole all the time wondering why the floor never seemed to be exactly where it should be when she put down her foot.  She fumbled at the catch and the glass flew open with such ease and swiftness that she was caught by surprise and was thrown off balance again.  Now she could feel the cool air, it blew with the mist of sea spray upon her face and she drew closer in order to enjoy it even more.

 

The mist sparkled in among the curls of her hair and spangled her skin in the way of dew drops upon the petals of the tenderest blossoms.  She leaned further forward in order to absorb it more and more just as the ship lurched again and shuddered, a wave thumped upon the ships side and spray slung itself through the opening and over her.  Although it made her catch her breath in shock, she remained standing there to catch yet another cold dash of water as it struck against the ship.  Finally, soaked through but feeling cleaner than she had for some time, she closed the window and fastened down the catch.

 

She dried herself and stripped off her clothes, found clean garments and dressed herself carefully before seeing to her hair.  She had just finished her ablutions when the door opened and Soames entered followed by the kitchen lad bearing food on a tray.

 

“You look much better,” Soames smiled at her, “I was worried about you, Mrs Pelman.  We couldn’t really believe it was sea sickness that made you ill but couldn’t think what else it could be, unless it was something you ate.”

 

The kitchen lad scowled at that, and gave the doctor a dark glare before thumping the tray down on the table and then quickly leaving the cabin.  Cassandra looked at the Doctor thoughtfully, and, as always, sought to see whether or not the man could be used to her advantage.  She saw an honest man, humble but efficient;  his eyes were clear and he looked at her without admiration for her looks, nor intimidation at her reputation.  If she were to find any use in him it would take time to erode down his preconceived loyalties and prejudices.  She glanced at the black medical bag and then at him,

 

“Did you give me something, some medication?”

 

“Only to calm your fever.  I’m pleased to see it worked well for you.”  he leaned forward and touched her brow, the glands at her throat and then picked up her hand to check her pulse, “Yes, you seem well recovered.  Perhaps it was sea sickness after all.”

 

“I’m a good sailor usually, but I think the confinement of this room, and the smells …” she shivered and drew her arms around herself, “I could never stand being confined in small rooms.  The food is awful, it makes me feel sick …”

 

“We’ve not the best chef in the service, I must admit, but we shall be in Tokyo soon, so things will improve.” he smiled and rose to  his feet, “Do you feel well enough now to go without medication?”

 

“All I want is fresh air and to be able to breathe.”  she reached out and placed her hand gently on his arm, “Could you ask the Captain if it would be possible to take a walk on the deck, just once in a day?”

 

“I shall ask, my dear, but I can’t guarantee it’ll happen.  Captain Cartwright has already given you more than is required in connection to his orders.  By rights you should be in the brig.”

 

“So he tells me, but, Doctor, please believe me when I tell you this, I’m innocent of what he feels I am guilty.  Please, ask him to come and talk to me?”

 

“No, I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mrs Pelman.  I’m sorry.” he picked  up the bag and rose to his feet, “Now, eat your food while it’s still warm.”

 

She watched him leave the cabin, the door closed behind him and she was once again alone, the shadows of the small berth closing in around her, and the spray of the waves striking against the windows.

 

She picked  up her bowl of soup, and a spoon.  She sniffed it and felt her stomach tighten in rebellion, but before she put the bowl back she saw a small slip of paper on the tray, just under where the bowl had been placed.  With the slightest of smiles on her face she opened it and read the message that had been scrawled upon it while at the same time her ears picked up the sound of familiar footsteps approaching her cabin, stopping, a murmur of voices before the footsteps continued onwards.

 

………………….

 

The sails were full, and they were maintaining a good speed.  The Baltimore ploughed through the waves alongside them like a sheep dog herding its last recalcitrant lamb into the fold.  Very soon they would be reaching Tokyo and as Adam stood at the taffrail with his hands clasped in his familiar stance now, he wondered what would be awaiting him there. 

 

He turned as Soames joined him, a slight smile on his face, Adam raised an eyebrow,

 

“Mrs Pelman.” Adam replied slowly.  “How is she, by the way?”

 

“Positively blooming.  She thinks it was the food, the confinement in a small room and the lack of fresh air.  She wants you to let her take a walk around the deck once a day.”

 

Adam said nothing.  He looked thoughtfully at the Doctor and then turned to look once again at the sea.  The last person he wanted to think about at that moment in time was Cassandra Pelman.

…………….

 

The Marine opened the door to the cook’s boy and made some comment that caused some laughter between them.  He stepped into the cabin and as he approached the table to pick up the tray, he placed a bundle of clothes on the floor.  Then he picked up the tray, nodded at her, and quickly left the cabin.  The door opened and closed behind him.

 

It was done so quickly, so easily and simply that Cassandra hardly had time to realise it had happened.  But there were the clothes, and she quickly examined them, smiled and nodded in satisfaction.  She now walked over to her bed and from under the pillow produced a two edged surgical knife, a lancet, that she had carefully stolen from the medical bag Soames had left open during the time of his earlier visit.  She tested the point against her thumb, it drew blood instantly.

 

……………….

 

There is nothing as lovely as a clipper ship with her sails billowing as the winds caught her, nothing lovelier than when it dipped into a black black sea with the light of many stars tipping each wave with silver and a moon shedding down her light to make the sails shine ghostly white against the blackness of the sea and sky.   Sometimes a shaft a light would beam through the clouds, silvery bright, speckling the ship and sending her like a phantom over the waves.

 

The Shenandoah was not the size of the Ainola, but she was beautiful.  Adam passed  his hand over the smooth wood, and raised his face to the air and spray.  It was evenings like this that he dreamt about when he was home on the Ponderosa, when he would be on the cattle drives curled in his bed roll, a saddle at his  head.  He would think of the evenings when his ship would look like something from a fairy story, dipping into a black sea and rising among silver tipped waves.   Stars studded the sky here as brightly as at home, and the moon broke through clouds with the same regal splendour, but the sight and sounds of his ship breaking through the waves could never be replicated anywhere else.

 

He glanced about the deck, nodded over at the helmsman, Laurensen, and walked slowly around the decks.  The men who were standing watch saluted as he passed, before resuming their soft chatter.  Kenney paused to say a few words, interspersed with the sound of the sails and masts creaking, the swoosh of water as the ship dipped and rose up again, and then he walked on.   Myers stopped to speak to him, they discussed a matter quietly in order not to disturb anyone close by, then he turned and made his way to his cabin.

 

He passed her cabin, the Marine saluted and he asked him if everything was alright, and the Marine nodded and confirmed that all was well.

 

“A good night, sir.”

 

“Yes, indeed.” and he walked on. 

 

The Marine sighed and wished he could go to bed.  He was bored and he saw no beauty in the night because his feet ached. He suffered from fallen arches and no one seemed to sympathise with him one bit.  He walked over to the side of the ship and looked down …

 

………………..

 

Adam Cartwright disrobed slowly.  He folded his clothes and set them down in reverse order so that in a hurry he could reach out and pull everything on without having to fumble around.  He slid into his bed with a gratefulness indicative of his weariness.  A candle glowed behind its glass shutter but his eyes were already closing before he could blow out the flame.

 

He slept deeply.  He was quite unaware of the time when the door creaked open very slowly and someone entered the room.   Light shone from the window, soft silvery light that gleamed upon the blade of the lancet held tightly in the intruder’s hand as with soft feet she approached the bed.

 

He stirred slightly, raised an arm to cover his face and then let it fall back against his side.  She looked down at him, at the high cheekbones, the finely shaped mouth and strong stubborn chin.  The flutter of eyelashes indicated that he could be near to waking so what had to be done, would have to be done swiftly.  She leaned down closer to him, closer and raised her hand.

 

Chapter 74

 

Why was she hesitating?  Her hand clutched the knife but trembled, her mind urged her ‘Go on, go on, why wait, do it now.’ but still she hesitated.   She stepped back a pace as though to distance herself from the man in the bed who now stirred, black hair, tousled and curled, contrasted sharply with the paleness of the pillow upon which he rested his head.  He sighed and upon his doing so, she lowered her hand.

 

Was it possible that the man she hated so much, and had hated for so long, was the one man whom she desired more than any man she had ever known in her life before?  Could it really be that rather than plunge that knife into him, she wanted only to lean towards him and kiss his lips, and  hear his voice speak words of love to  her?

 

“Fool -” she told herself, “Fool.” and she moved back again and as she did so the glass shade that protected the candle hit against her hand, its heat burned  and she gave a cry of startled horror as she dropped the knife upon the floor and clutched at the scorched flesh.

 

Before she could turn a hand had grasped her wrist, and another was at her throat and she was looking into the dark very alert eyes of the man she had just considered murdering.

 

“What do you think you’re doing here?” he growled in a voice that sounded like the rumble of an enraged lion and the grip around her throat tightened so that she had to bring up her free hand in an attempt to claw herself away from his grip.  When that didn’t work she brought her hand up and struck him across the face, bringing her nails down to rake across the flesh of his cheek.

 

He shook her now, shook her until tears sprung to her eyes and she was pulling at his hand to release her, even though she couldn’t tear her eyes away from staring into his face.  The grim mouth, the bone of the nose whitening against the flesh, the wide angry eyes and the strength of his fingers around her throat, all created within her a whole confusion of emotions, emotions over which she no longer had any control but were now so bound up with this one man.

 

“Please - please -” she whispered and she felt the grip on her loosen, so that she was able to pull herself free and retreat several paces while she dragged in great gulps of air.

 

Before either could say a word the door opened with a crash, and the room filled with men, Armstrong, Sergeant of Marines, Myers and Kenney crowding in behind him.

 

“Take her away, put a padlock on the door, find out what’s been going on and who’s her accomplice.” Adam yelled as he started to pull on clothing.

 

“We know her accomplice, Captain, one of them anyway.” Myers murmured.

 

“Good, keep him under observation for the next few minutes and then bring him in here.”

 

He watched them take her away, her face ashen white and her hair a mass of golden coils that framed her tragic appearance to perfection.  The rough seaman’s clothing did little to conceal her femininity, and when she turned pitiful eyes towards him he could only shake his head in disbelief and anger.  He buttoned his shirt slowly, forcing his fingers to do the job carefully, while Myers stood waiting to speak to him.  Hathaway lit several lamps, and stood at attention by the door.

 

“What happened?” Adam snapped, “And how did it happen?”

 

“She had outside help.”  Myers said slowly, “Someone sent her in some clothing and somehow they arranged a plan to get her out of the cabin.  The Marine on duty was - is - dead. There’s no sign of him, we can only assume they pushed him overboard after - er - afterwards.”

 

“There was enough blood to indicate he put up a struggle, but was overpowered.  There’s no hope of finding his body now.” Hathaway said quietly.

 

Adam nodded, he poured some brandy into a glass, and drank some before pulling out a chair and sitting down.  Now fully dressed and booted, he waited for Armstrong to bring in Pelman’s accomplice.  Myers and Hathaway waited nervously, the lack of an offer to share a drink with the Captain an indication of his anger.

 

“I’m sorry, sir, I should have heard something sooner, but was on the other side of the ship.” Hathaway stammered.

 

“That’s enough, Hathaway, I don’t want excuses. I want to know how she could have got those clothes, that knife, and be able to cross the deck after murdering one of our Marines with the intention of despatching me.”  he glared at them both, dark eyes smouldering and both men knew that they had failed in his estimation of them.

 

The door opened and Soames stepped into the cabin,

 

“I’ve just heard.  Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” Adam dismissed the question with the same brevity with which he would dismiss his father and brothers concerns had he been tossed from a horse, “There’s something over there that belongs to you, Doctor.” and he pointed to the lancet the tip of which was struck into the wooden floor by the bed where she had dropped it.

 

“Oh - I - er - wondered where that had gone.”  Soames pulled the blade free and examined it carefully, “There’s blood on it.  You haven’t been -” he paused at seeing the look of exasperation pass over Adam‘s face. “I’m sorry.  Really sorry.  I didn’t notice it was gone until about an hour ago …”

 

“Mrs Pelman had it, that’s where it had gone, Doctor.” he straightened his shoulders and quirked one eyebrow, “The blood you see isn’t from me, but from one of our Marines -” he stopped speaking, the thought of the lone man battling to live, being cast into the sea, lost among the waves with no one to know or assist him caught at his throat.

 

He glanced away now and bit down on his lip, drew in his breath and when the door opened to admit Armstrong and three other men, he dismissed the doctor and Hathaway.  Myers, as his first lieutenant, sat down and quietly picked up a pencil and paper in order to write down what was about to be said.  Although this was not customary at the time, it was a procedure that Adam had already discussed with Myers, and one that was to be proven expedient and providential.

 

Armstrong led the way into the room, and behind him came the accomplice flanked by two armed Marines.  After saluting his Captain, Armstrong swallowed hard, and then, staring ahead of him as though already facing judge and jury, he announced that he had brought in Mrs Pelman’s accomplice.  The man had made no attempt to escape once he had realised Mrs Pelman had been caught and taken to her cabin.   Adam turned his eyes to the accused while at the same time wiping away the blood from his cheek with his handkerchief.

 

Phillips stared back at the other man with his eyes bright, almost fever bright.  His face was ashen although two bright red blotches coloured his cheeks.  He was biting his lips but when he realised Adam was looking at him he stopped and raised his chin defiantly.

 

“Well, Mr Phillips, you - again?”

 

Phillips said nothing, he remained silent even when Armstrong ordered him to answer.

 

Adam raised his hands and clasped them together, leaned back in his chair and looked at the young man thoughtfully.   He didn’t think the man had acted out of passion, there had been too little time, but then, he was still a youth and she was beautiful.  Her presence, the whispered conversations through the wooden planks of the door could have aroused some emotion for her.  He sighed,

 

“Mr Phillips, you’re in serious trouble, you know.”

 

Still no answer, a flush of colour mantled the pale cheeks and the Adam’s apple jerked convulsively.  Adam frowned, stood up and walked to the table where he poured brandy into a glass, and then handed it to the prisoner.  Phillips sat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair, before accepting the glass and drinking what was in it. 

 

“Sergeant Armstrong, take your Marines and wait outside, if I need you I shall call you.  Mr Myers, you may leave.  Return in an hour.”

 

Rather disconcertedly the four men did as they were told, glancing back over their shoulders as they finally closed the door behind them, leaving the two men along in the room.

 

“Now then, Mr Phillips, why don’t you explain exactly what’s going on here and who else is involved.” Adam was leaning now against his desk, his long legs straight out and his arms folded across his chest.  He was not looking angry nor aggressive in any way, but rather more kindly and brotherly, and Phillips wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swallowed nervously, as though he wanted to talk but fear prevented him from doing so.

 

“I’ve given you one chance, Mr Phillips, if you don’t help me now, I may not be able to help you get out of the mess you’ve got yourself into …” his voice was deep, warm and comforting. 

 

Phillips looked up, looked into the Captain’s face and swallowed again.

 

“It’s - well - it’s a long story.” he mumbled.

 

“That’s alright, we’ve plenty of time.  There’s no hurry.” and Adam pulled out a chair and sat down opposite the younger man in much the same manner as he would have done had he been about to discuss some problem with Joe.

 

 

 

Chapter 75 

 

For a few moments Phillips remained sitting very still, his facial muscles twitched and contorted as though indicative of some inner turmoil that was going on inside him. He glanced up at Adam every so often but the calm patient exterior of the other man eventually seemed to put him at ease, for he took a deep breath and began to speak

 

“I guess you’d consider me as a traitor for what happened tonight?”

 

“Well, a murderer anyway, if you were the one who killed the Marine.” Adam replied gently, but looking with some sympathy at Phillips, and he did feel sympathy for him, for this was a promising cadet, a man with his future ahead of him and all of it ruined.  He had nothing more than the hangman’s noose waiting for him now.

 

Phillips sighed and shook his head, then wiped sweat from his face with one hand which he then wiped down his jacket.  He nodded as though he had made up his mind about something and continued.

 

“It started during the war.  I’d best tell you right now that I was born and raised in Atlanta.” he stared at Adam as though those words should mean everything and really needed no explanation, the Captain nodded once but made no comment.  “I was just a kid when my Father and elder brother went off to fight for General Lee.  They fought for the Confederacy.”

 

“Go on,” Adam sighed, and half closed his eyes while at the back of his mind he already realised what was going to come and why this story was going to lead to something so familiar.

 

“Well, my Father never came back from the war, and Jimmy returned minus a leg and not looking much like Jimmy any more.  He told us a lot about the fighting, the killing, but he said that the man he admired most of all, and to whom he owed his life, was a doctor.  Dr Jeffrey Metcalfe.”

 

Adam released his breath but didn’t reveal his thoughts to the other man, he just felt like a lead weight had been strung around his neck.  Phillips cleared his throat and continued.

 

“Jimmy talked a lot about Dr Metcalfe, how the man had tried to save our Father, and others, countless others.  How he’d done everything possible to save him.  We got to hear about it a whole lot because Jimmy couldn’t really talk about much else, it was like his mind was trapped in those battles, as though he were fighting them over and over again all his waking hours.  

 

“Well, not long after Jimmy had come home Sherman razed Atlanta to the ground.  Guess everyone knows about it, but not many experienced it first hand.  I did. I was a kid and I was terrified, and more than anything else I hated them Yankees.  My Ma and I got out of Atlanta safely but Jimmy, he thought it was another fight he had to get himself involved in, and he just went right into the thick of the fires … we never saw him again.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mr Phillips.”  Adam cleared his own throat now, and after some seconds of silence asked the young man to continue with the story.

 

“We struggled about for a while, like hundreds of others.  Then my Ma married again, a man who had known Dr Metcalfe.  We moved to California and settled down there.  He adopted me as his son and I took on his name.   When I was at Military College I met some men who knew …” he paused and then raised his eyes to look into Adam’s face “I can’t break my pledge to them, sir.  I’m sorry.” he swallowed “If I say anymore I’ll be a double traitor, to them and - and to this uniform.”

 

“’No man can serve two masters-’” Adam murmured, he leaned forward, “Let me continue for you, shall I?  You met with a group of people who wanted to restore the Confederacy?  You signed a pledge to support them and do what you could to bring down the Grant administration.   You were told that by serving as a Marine you were in a privileged position to serve the cause.  You met Metcalfe, and he convinced you that you were an honoured member of the group.”  he looked at Phillips, saw how the eyes had dilated, the colour faded and then flooded back into his face, “Eventually you met others, influential people.  You probably met Commodore Pelman and his wife.”

 

“Yes, yes, I did …” he stammered, “How did you know all that?  Are you -” he shook his head and then in an undertone as though speaking to himself he murmured, “No, that’s not possible.”

 

“No, it isn’t possible for me to be part of any of these illicit groups.  Pelman and Metcalfe were just two of many men and women who want to bring down the Grant administration, and not always for the sake of the Confederacy, sometimes just so that they can restore an order of their own.  Self seeking, ambitious men will always find men like yourself, Phillips.” he sighed and bit down on his bottom lip, before passing his hand across his mouth and then slowly lowering it back into his lap.  “What was your father’s name?”

 

“Does that matter?” his eye lids flickered, he licked dry lips.

 

“I’m assuming that Metcalfe suggested that  you signed your pledge in your real father’s name, after all, your father died a hero for the Confederate cause, didn’t he?”

 

“Yes.” he nodded, “You’re right.  My father’s name was Max Shankley.  Major Max Shankley.”  his eyes flickered with pride then, and for the first time his voice resonated with something like pride.

 

Adam leaned back, bowed his head and recalled to mind that fateful list of names that had caused so much misery all those months before, misery and death.  Mentally he went down the list, one by one the names rolled down and then his eyes looked up and into the Cadet’s and he nodded.   Shankley had been a name on the list.

 

“So, did you come on board the Shenendoah with the intention of causing trouble?”

 

“Dr Metcalfe arranged for me to get on board”

 

“And who else helped you in all this?  I presume you’re not the only person on board with the same allegiances as yourself?”

 

“There’s only one other person, Captain.  He wasn’t exactly willing to help either, he has a lot of respect for you but I had to put the pressure on him in order to help Mrs Pelman.”

 

“So coming to her assistance was for duty alone -?” Adam smiled grimly, although he discreetly kept his hand covering his mouth.

 

“I owed it to Dr Metcalfe, for what he had done for my family and for me.  I know we can’t achieve what had originally been planned, all that went wrong when Commodore Pelman died and members of the rebel cells got rounded up.  But I still had to help her.”

 

“And this other assistant?”

 

“The Cook, Doug Sweetman … he was the one who passed on my messages to her, he got his assistant to take the clothes into her.  The boy wasn’t involved, he was just asked to do something and he did it because he’s used to taking orders from the cook.”  he licked his lips and shrugged, “We were going to get into the boat and make our way to the French ship, La Dauphine.  She hadn’t sailed much before you so wouldn’t be that far ahead, and I knew her co-ordinates because I got them from one of the Frenchmen”

 

“And you killed the Marine?”

 

“No,“ he shook his head, and for a moment looked rather confused, he looked at Adam as though perhaps the Captain would be able to provide the answers that would put his own mind at rest, “Mrs Pelman had got out of the cabin, I was waiting for her in the shadows nearby.  It just happened by chance that the Marine spotted her so she -” he winced “I wouldn’t have thought it possible for a little thing like her to have so much strength, but she just slashed out at him, and he fell, holding his throat.  Blood went everywhere. I caught his rifle so that it didn’t make a noise falling to the deck, and we just toppled him over the side. He was dead …”

 

Again Adam released his breath, almost unaware that he had actually been holding it in.  He bowed his head and frowned, clasped his hands tightly together and then rose to his feet,

 

“It was a crazy idea.  You’d never have got past the Baltimore.” he said quietly.

 

“I think her main reason for getting out of the cabin was to get in here -” Phillips whispered, “That’s when I realised that I had just been used by her.”

 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, Cadet, you weren’t the first.” Adam said as he passed him, he placed a friendly hand on his shoulder and then opened the door, “Sergeant Armstrong, we’re ready for you now.”

 

Armstrong came in, rather hot under the collar, followed by the two Marines.

 

“Take Cadet Phillips and lock him in the brig.  Also the cook, Sweetman.  Make sure there’s a padlock on Mrs Pelman’s door and two Marines on guard. No one is to go into the cabin alone …” he turned to Phillips, “If there are any other members of your group on board ship, try and remember who they are, for your own sake.”

 

“There are no others.” the young man said slowly, he wiped his face free from perspiration once again as he slowly rose to his feet, “I had to do what I did, I owed it to her brother.”

 

Adam said nothing to that but stepped aside to let the four men go by, and then, very slowly, he closed the door behind him.   Again he released his breath, walked to the table and poured himself another brandy.  Just for a  moment he remained perfectly still, the decanter in one hand and the glass in the other as he stared out of the window, Jeffrey Metcalfe, it seemed, even in death, perhaps more so in death, was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

 

Chapter 76

 

Daniel O’Brien whistled through his teeth as he listened to what Adam was telling him.  It was a quiet and still morning, the sun was still in the splendid state of rising, shedding orange and golden rays across the calm waters.   Both ships had anchored and Daniel had come over in the Baltimore’s skiff to take on those members of his crew that were well enough for duty, as well as breakfast and some association with his friend.  The crew that had rowed over were men from the Shenandoah who were anticipating returning to their own ship and were even now in the seamen’s quarters being regaled with the news of what had happened.

 

Soames, rather sombre and quiet, was seated by the stove nursing some of Adam’s good dark coffee, Myers, Hathaway and Kenney were also present listening to what had taken place that night, and what had taken place with the conversation between Adam and Phillips.  The remains of breakfast were piled on a table awaiting the attentions of Mike Scott, the steward.

 

“Well,” Kenney declared, mindful of his stomach, “Sweetman won’t be any great loss as a cook, but I’m surprised that he got involved.”  his mind became distracted from then on as consideration had to be given to who was going to replace him,  The breakfast they had been served had been prepared by Scott himself, and to Kenny’s mind, it wasn’t up to ships standard.

 

“Loyalties go deep,” O’Brien said quietly.

 

“It’s almost a shame that flogging has been abolished -”  Kenney murmured, “perhaps this wouldn’t have happened if it still existed.”

 

“You’ve President Filmore to thank for that,” O’Brien smiled, “Naval Appropriations Bill signed 28^th September 1850”

 

“And thank goodness for it,” Adam said sharply, “I wouldn’t have allowed it anyway -,

what would that really have achieved?” Adam replied with a rather puzzled expression on his face as he looked at his friend, as though surprised that he would even think of such a thing.

 

“It would have made anybody else thinking of doing such a thing think twice about doing it.” Soames answered before Daniel had even opened his mouth. 

 

“True enough -” Myers nodded and the others murmured agreement.

 

Daniel looked thoughtfully at his friend, at the deep scratches on his face, a trace of weariness around the eyes.  He recalled how he had once looked at Adam Cartwright and discussed the merits of being a Cape Hornier, how they had laughed together at that, and he had looked at the older man and thought how he would be prepared to go to the ends of the world for him, “Captain oh my Captain” had been the words that had swelled up in his heart to overflowing, and since then there had been the horrors of that time in Alaska, San Francisco and what had befallen him in the Kuril Islands.  He shook his head, and leaned forward,

 

“But you were lenient on him, Adam?  He could have been an accessory to your murder.  He IS an accessory to the murder of Isaiah Jones.”

 

Adam leaned back in his chair as though to get more comfortable, he raised one shoulder and then quirked an eyebrow,  Soames poured more coffee into everyone’s cup, and sunlight shone through the window.  During the silence in the room Scott came and efficiently cleared away the remnants of the meal.

 

“The fact is that they are both an accessory to treason now.  That takes the punishment out of my jurisdiction.   It’s for a court martial to deal with it.”

 

An uncomfortable silence settled around them, Soames sighed and put his cup down, it rattled noisily in the saucer.  Scott returned with a fresh pot of hot coffee and set it down upon the tray and took away the few remaining soiled dishes in the room.

 

“Oh well,” Adam shrugged and dismissed it, “Time to talk of other things.” he turned to Soames, “Are any of the men well enough to return to the Baltimore, Doctor?  If so, perhaps you could give them a clean bill of health before leaving us, and returning with Captain O’Brien.   If you still require the help of our men, Daniel, then by all means retain them.”

 

“What about your prisoners?  Would you like us to take the responsibility of Phillips and Sweetman from the Shenandoah?  We have a good sturdy brig that is going unused on the Baltimore you know?”

 

“I’m sure you have,” Adam smiled, and walked alongside his friend to the door which he opened slowly, “But the Shenandoah’s brig hasn’t been used before and still smells sweet, although I would never admit that to Mrs Pelman in case she decides it’s better than Myers cabin.”

 

They emerged into the full light of a splendid new day, Adam raised his face up to the sun and smiled, before looking over at Daniel who had turned to look over at him.  In another twenty four hours they would be in Tokyo.  He pursed his lips into a pout, narrowed his eyes and turned to walk to the binnacle.  Just another twenty four hours and he could say goodbye to Cassandra Pelman at last.

 

……………….

 

Jeffrey Jamieson walked down the gangplank of the Mojave, an excellent ship that had brought him safely from San Francisco to Tokyo.   He stood there for a moment and looked about him to observe the differences in culture and tradition that were now exposed to his sight.  Those first few moments of observation settled his mind, he drew in his breath and holding tightly to his extremely bulky bag, made his way to the nearest vehicle.

 

For some reason he had expected to see Adam Cartwright waiting for him, but news of what had taken place had been slow in reaching him.  He could only hope that Adam was safe, and that no harm had come to him.  He watched the people as he passed, the women in their Kimono’s who flashed dark eyes over at him in curiosity, and the men who wore the male equivalency to the Kimono, and some who chose to wear western garb .. It was all fascinating, busy and very noisy.

 

The rickshaw deposited him outside the hotel at which he was going to stay.  Again he took a deep breath before mounting the steps to the door, the bag weighed down his left side it was so heavy.  He was glad to be able to drop it upon the floor of his room and then sit down on the bed.  The air was heavy and humid.  He wanted to open the window but was too tired.  Instead he stared up at the ceiling until his eyes closed and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

 

………………………

 

Candy and Ann Canady were, in Hoss’ estimation, one of the handsomest couples he had ever known.  Both had thick black hair and brilliant blue eyes, they smiled easily and gave their friendship warmly.  When they entered the Ponderosa’s grand room, with the coloured Chinese lanterns and banners and streamers they were warmly welcomed by the three Cartwrights, and then Joe introduced Victoria Shannon with a pride that made Ben’s heart swell with an emotion that only a father could feel at that time.

 

‘This one,’ Ben told himself, ‘this is the one for Joe.  He really loves her, this is no mere flight of fancy on his part, like in the past.  Well, it’s time the boy settled down.  Yes, it’s time.”

 

He broke off his musings as someone jogged his elbow and he turned to find himself looking at Candy, who was smiling at him with his blue eyes looking mischievously bright.

 

“Seems like you’ll be gaining a daughter in law very soon, Ben.” Candy handed a glass of punch to the older man, and smiled, “She’s a very pretty woman.”

 

“Yes, she is -” Ben agreed, “She’s also charming, intelligent and generous.  Far too good for him, in fact.” and he laughed good humouredly as they both turned to watch the young couple as they strolled around the room, arm in arm, meeting and talking to various neighbours and friends who had gathered there to celebrate the occasion with them.

 

“I never thought he would get over Little Moon,” Candy said softly, “it’s taken a while, hasn’t it?”

 

“Yes, for a while I thought he would never be able to let go of her memory.  Perhaps it was because -” he paused, shook his head, perhaps it was better not to say anything more, he sipped some more punch, “there was so much going on at the time, it may have added to the romance and tragedy of it all.”

 

“I know.  I do understand, Mr Cartwright -” Candy smiled his broad smile, and then looked at his wife and his face gentled, the eyes softened and followed her as she went to talk to Hoss, “Life takes some odd turns, doesn’t it , sir?”

 

“It does, Candy, and -” he looked at the man who had been friend and foreman for some years “don’t you think you should call me Ben now?  We are neighbours after all.”

 

“Do you think Hoss has any intention of settling down yet, Ben?” Candy asked and using the name so comfortably that Ben had the uneasy feeling that he had been practising it for weeks.

 

“No, I don’t think so -” Ben glanced over at Hoss who was nodding and smiling at Ann Canady, “She’d have to be a very special person.  I’d want - oh well, who am I to say who I would want for Hoss.  He’s all heart and the person he’d need to marry would have to understand that -”

 

“Yes,” Candy nodded, “Yes, I guess she would.” and he emptied his glass slowly, his eyes watching his wife as she chatted to Hoss while the music played and couples began to dance.

 

Noise, laughter, singing and music playing.  Victoria in Joe’s arms, being spun round and round, laughing, smiling, and happy.  Joe felt giddy from the noise, from the dancing and the talking.  His hand was aching from the numerous hand shakes, his back stung from the many slaps it had received in good natured congratulations.  And really, all he wanted to do was to take his beloved girl to a quiet spot and take her in his arms and kiss her, remind himself that he was well blessed in finding her, and kiss her some more.

 

Hoss clambered onto the seat of the Canady’s buggy and carefully manoeuvred it through the yard, carefully avoiding getting wheels snagged and various other obstacles that were determined to get in his way.   It hadn’t unduly bothered him when Ann had asked him to go back to her house and try and persuade her cousin to join them at the party.

 

“You see, Hoss, she felt that she couldn’t possibly come without having been invited.  Besides which she doesn’t know anyone here yet, least of all Joe and Victoria.  I’ve told her all about you and your family, of course, but that’s not the same, is it?”

 

“Shucks, no, ma’am, no, it ain’t.” he had replied, and nodded in sincere agreement.  He was getting over warm as it was, what with the crowd of folk squeezed into the room, and all that dancing and noise only added to the heat he was feeling.

 

“You won’t mind then, going to persuade her to come?  You could say you were extending a personal invitation, couldn’t you?”

 

“Dawg gone, Ma’am, that’s sure a good idea.  You sure she won’t mind?”

 

“Of course she won’t.”

 

“Yeah, but if she ain’t expecting to be coming to a party, she might be doin’ something else, like washing her hair, or - something like that?”

 

“True enough, but you could wait for her to get ready, couldn’t you?”

 

“Yeah, I guess so.” his brow had crinkled and he shook his head, “What if she don’t want to come?”

 

“Then just say, ‘Goodnight, pleased to meet you. Perhaps some other time …’” Ann had smiled encouragingly, her blue eyes had fixed insistently upon his face, as he had nodded and repeated the words to himself.

 

Now he let the horses get into a canter while he thought over what had taken place. He nodded to himself,

 

“Thanks, Ma’am, pleased to meet you, perhaps some other time …” he muttered, and sighed, “Now, that ain’t right.  Dangblast it, I forgot to ask Ann what her cousin’s name was … shucks, ain’t that jest plain stupid, how’d I manage to forget that?”

Chapter 77

 

Of course, he dropped his hat.  He had knocked on the door, removed his hat and mumbled under his breath what he was meant to say, but it came out wrong again so he raised his hand to his head to scratch his scalp and dropped his hat.  As he bent down to retrieve it the door opened very slowly, and as he equally slowly straightened himself up, he observed the full green skirts of a woman’s dress, then the nipped in waist that led to her ‘upper’ regions. He gulped, and  felt flutters of nerves in his stomach as he clutched his hat closer to his own chest.

 

“Don‘t I know you?” she said, with a note of relief in her voice, and she pulled the door open more welcomingly, “It‘s Mr Cartwright, isn‘t it?  We met the other day in town.”

 

He gulped  harder and realised his mouth was dry, drier than the Mohave desert.  He nodded and stared at her face as though he couldn‘t really believe who he was looking at.

She laughed and leaned forward, taking hold of his arm as she did so,

 

“Come on in, Mr Cartwright.  I’ve just brewed a new pot of coffee, and there’s a fresh batch of cookies just made.  It won’t matter if we have some now, I can always make more.”

 

He hemmed and hawed, bumped into a table and sent the lamp rocking back and forth so that he had to make a quick grab at it, then he tripped over a foot stool and landed rather heavily and awkwardly in a chair by the fire. 

 

“Let me take your hat,” she was still smiling and placed the hat carefully on the bureau by the door, “How do you like your coffee?”

 

He watched as she turned to a glass panelled cupboard from which she took another cup, and placed it beside her own.  She was a neat shape, he liked the back view every bit as much as the front.  She wasn’t at all skinny or scrawny like some women could be, in fact, she was a good sturdy shape, with out being in any way hefty.   She was tall, for a woman, but most of all she was - well - to Hoss’ mind she was lovely.  When she turned round to smile at him her blue eyes were as blue as the forget me knots that were painted on the cup, and her cheeks dimpled, and he noticed that her lips were generous and full.

 

“Thanks, Ma’am, that would be fine.” he blinked and stretched his eyes, and then shook his head as though to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, after all, he had had several dreams in which she had featured since they had met and it was just possible that during the ride from the Ponderosa he could have dozed off.

 

“It’s very kind of you to come and visit, especially this evening when your family has arranged this party for your brother.”  she looked over at him now, and frowned, the smile replaced with a look of concern, “shouldn’t you be there?”

 

“Shucks, no, I mean, wal, I guess so.” he took the cup and the smell of the coffee was rich and bitter, he nodded, “Smells real good.”

 

“Thank you, here, have one of these.” and as he leaned forward to carefully take one she smiled, “Best take two -”

 

“Thanks, ma’am, don’t mind if I do.”

 

They sipped the coffee and she nibbled a cookie while he chomped on both his, and neither of them said a word, although they kept glancing over at one another, always careful not to get eye contact.  Eventually he cleared his throat,

 

“Actually, ma’am, I rode over to ask you to come to the party.  Of course, if’n you wanted to wash you hair instead, that’s jest fine by me, but I know the folks would love to meet you  an’ all.”

 

“You’re very kind.  How thoughtful.  Did my cousin put you up to this?   She did say that your family wouldn’t mind my coming even though I had no invitation, but -” she frowned, “Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not very good with parties and meeting people. I never know what to say, and as I wouldn’t know anyone there -” she went a little pink, and lowered her head, “It’s difficult.”

 

“I know jest how you feel.” Hoss nodded, “I know all them folks back there and I still feel awkward not knowing what to talk about -” he put his cup down and nodded gratefully when she indicated a willingness to refill it.  “I didn’t know Miss Ann had a cousin, or rather, I didn’t know you were her cousin.”

 

“I thought I would come and visit, help during her confinement and see how things work out here.” she smiled and automatically raised the plate towards him, taking it for granted that he would take another two, “It’s been a little difficult for me for a while, and when Ann suggested that I came for this visit, I grabbed at the chance.”  she smoothed out her skirts, and turned her face to the fire.  “Will you call me Hester, Mr Cartwright?”

 

“Er - why - sure I will, ma’am, if you don’t mind calling me Hoss.”

 

“Why are you called Horse?”

 

“Hoss, ma’am, not Horse.  My Ma was Swedish, and in her country it means a gentle friendly man.  Fact is, she didn’t realise that I was going to grow to this size, so most folk just kinda think - well - it means ‘that big guy over there’” he blushed a little then, and buried his face in his cup.

 

“Yes, I suppose they would think that, but I like the real meaning of the word best, it suits you.”

 

“Pa called me Erik, but my brother Adam said how I should be called Hoss because that was what my Ma had promised to call her first son to her brother, Gunther.  Pa said to call me both and see which one sticks…”

 

“I’m glad the right name for you stuck, Hoss.”

 

“Thanks, ma’am.”

 

“Hester …”

 

“Oh yes, of course.” he nodded and frowned a little, stretched out his legs a little, “It’s a long journey, from New York to here.” he said suddenly, just as they had settled into another shy silence and his voice made her jump a little, then she nodded, a curl of golden red hair sprung loose to coil over her shoulder,

 

“Yes, it was a long journey, and an interesting one.” and she told him about some of the things she had seen during her journey across the states, by train, by stage coach, and as she talked Hoss sat and stared at her, and thought he would never grow tired of hearing her voice, not in a hundred years or more.

 

………………….

 

Noise seemed to reverberate around and through the timbers of the ship into her cabin, and slowly she roused herself from her bed to pay more than the usual attention to it all.

There were shouted commands, feet thudding over head on the upper deck that formed her ceiling, the murmur of voices close to her door.  She crept closer and leaned against the wood panels in order to hear what was being said, but there was just too much noise.

 

She now made her way to the port hole and looked out through the glass, wiping away the condensation that had formed on it.  There was land appearing now, a thin line of land along which the ship seemed to be taking so that it ran parallel to it.  It was still far away enough for her to be unable to distinguish much in the way of dwellings, but it appeared lush and green.

 

She heaved in a deep breath, and closed her eyes.  Tokyo … they were approaching Tokyo.  Then what?  She rubbed her face with her hands as though to rub life into it, to stimulate the blood and bring her brain back to its former sharpness.  Since her attempt on Adam’s life she had felt numb, and had lain in a torpor upon the bed feeling desolate and alone.   Any help that Jeffrey had arranged for her protection had been used, and even though Phillips had not been man enough or intelligent enough to think of a way out of the situation, he had been there as someone associated with her brother and their organisation.  As for Sweetman, she dismissed him without a thought.

 

She opened the window wide, as wide as it would go and then pulled over the table to climb upon it to look out even further.  She was now able to actually look outside of the window, at the waves that formed the wash as the ship cut through the water, at birds that bobbed up and down with black beady eyes and no interest in her whatsoever.  She could hear voices above her, and glanced up, but whatever was being said was not of interest to her.  She stepped back and pushed the table away, then paused in doing so, glanced back at the window and was about to return the table beneath it when the door opened and Adam Cartwright stepped into the cabin.

 

Chapter 78

 

Just for a moment she stood where she was as though frozen, her hand still on the table. He walked further into the room and leaned down to pull the table away and while he did so she stood up and walked to the bed. 

 

With the slanting sunlight from the window falling across her now she resembled some Grecian statue that had suddenly sprung to life, trailing listlessly into the shadows.  Adam sighed and shook his head, such beauty and such evil, what a powerful combination.  He raised his eyebrows slightly as he walked to the window and closed it.

 

“What were you thinking of doing? Throwing yourself out of the window?  Not a very dignified way to go, Mrs Pelman.”

 

She said nothing to that but hung her head down, folded her hands in her lap and sat down on the edge of the bed.  She could see his feet and legs from there and didn’t look up at him, it was better to play this part as she had decided for she felt that she had the measure of him now.  She licked her lips and waited for him to speak, while her heart hammered beneath her ribs for to win him over she knew that she really had to be convincing in the role she was going to portray now.  Adam Cartwright, she surmised, would do a lot to protect a defenceless woman alone in the world with no man to champion her.

 

“We’ll be in Tokyo in a few hours.  You do know what that means, don’t you?”

 

She shook her head, still keeping her head down, somehow she conjured up a tear to fall and splash upon her gown leaving a dark stain.  The consummate actress she raised a hand to brush away another, and sighed, a shuddering miserable sigh.

 

Adam cleared his throat and looked out of the window.   Buildings were coming into view, boats of all shapes and sizes were surrounding the vessel as though welcoming it to the land of the rising sun.  Noises from outside permeated the cabin and yet she remained untouched by it all.  He pulled out the chair and sat astride it, crossed his arms on the top of it and leaned his chin upon them while he observed her thoughtfully,

 

“You know, you’re in a lot of trouble right now.”

 

“I know …” she whispered, and clasped her hands together even more tightly, as though in supplication to a higher power, although the only one she recognised in that room at that moment was Adam.

 

“So - were you thinking of throwing yourself out of the window?” his voice contained a trace of amusement, as though he could read through the play acting and wasn’t prepared to take any of it seriously.

 

“No - perhaps - I don’t know.” she looked up into his face, saw the dark eyes looking intently at her, the weals upon his cheek, and then dramatically closed her eyes before looking down again, “I just wanted to get away from this situation, to get back to what I was before -”

 

“Before what?  How far would you have to go back in time?”

 

She could sense the wry smile on his lips, and bit hard down upon her own, while at the same time she shook her head and allowed another tear to fall. 

 

“Tell me, Mrs Pelman, why did you come to my cabin and try to kill me?   Phillips had the boat ready, it would have taken no time at all for you to go down the Jacobs ladder and leave here.”

 

She shook her head again, looked up and then cast her eyes down again.

 

“So, you killed one of my Marines, seduced Phillips into a ridiculous escape plan that couldn’t possibly have worked, came to kill me and didn’t.  What stopped you from cutting my throat, Mrs Pelman?   It would only have taken one swift move, as you had already proven.”

 

“I didn’t kill him, the marine”

 

“Phillips says that you did.”

 

“He’s lying.”

 

“Why should he?”

 

“Because he didn’t want to be charged with murder.  It was easier to blame me.”

 

“So then he handed you the knife, and then you decided to come to murder me - is that it?”

 

“He said it would make more sense if I did, I just wanted to leave the ship and get away, Adam.  Please believe me ?”

 

“I don’t believe you, Mrs Pelman, and I never gave you permission at any time to call me Adam.  I’m Captain Cartwright to you, remember that -” his lips narrowed, while at the back of his mind he remembered a time when he had to tell someone else the same thing, ironically, Jeffrey Metcalfe.

 

“Well, we’ll leave it at that then, you changed your mind about killing me because in your little head  you were already thinking up another plan.   I dread to think what it is.” he sighed, and rose to his feet and pushed the chair aside.  “When we reach Tokyo, I’ll notify the authorities and they will take you from here under escort to some place of detention to await trail, or deportation back to America. I -”

 

“I couldn’t kill you,” she rose to her feet, and drew herself upright, tall and graceful, slender and tragically beautiful, “I couldn’t kill, Captain, I - “ she stopped, shook her head and turned away.  No acting in the world would convince him of how she had felt that night, looking down at him and feeling such a strong emotion, such a longing to be loved by him, she knew that even to say the words would bring to that cold, stern and judgemental face only disgust.  “I’m sorry, really sorry for what happened to the soldier, I know he was only doing his duty.”

 

He was already turning to leave, his back to her, the broad shoulders shrugging off her presence, her voice, and she followed him, hurried after him, and clasped at his arm,

 

“Adam - please - don’t let them take me away.  They’ll kill me, I know they will.”

 

“Madam, after all you have done, don’t you think that they have a right to do so?” he frowned, and pulled his arm away from her clasp, “You’re a traitor, a murderess -” he looked into the deep anguished eyes that had filled again with tears, and he sighed, pity softened his face and again her hand clasped at his arm, and again he pulled his arm free.

“Prepare yourself and your things for leaving the ship.”

 

He closed the door and she heard the key turn in the padlock.  Had she won him over, even just a little?  Or was it just too little to matter?  She returned to the window and stared out at the sight of the country they were approaching.

 

Outside, feeling the air on his face again, Adam shook his head.  It was a pity, and a pity that he couldn’t help but feel, that such beauty was wasted, that a woman could turn to evil, and that her death was as certain as the rising of the sun in the morning.  It was a feeling that related to any woman, however, not just to her and as he crossed the deck to mount the ladder to the bridge to observe entry into Yokohama bay all thoughts of Cassandra Pelman left his mind.

 

………………..

 

“Hi, Adam

 

It’s late.  There’s a huge moon up there in the sky tonight, it’s got a ring around it so I guess perhaps we’ll have rain tomorrow.

 

I had to write.  Well, like I told you, Joe got engaged to little Victoria and they had a party here tonight.  Guess it was a real good one at that, guess we sure know how to throw a party.  Anyhow, I didn’t get to be at it very much because Miss Ann, that’s Candy’s wife, the one expecting a baby, well, she has a cousin staying at their home, and she asked me to go and brung her over for the party.

 

The reason I had to write was to let you know that I found her.  That lady I told you about several letters ago.  The one with the big blue eyes and the red hair. Adam, I done found her.  She’s Miss Ann’s cousin.  I bet you wouldn’t have guessed?  I just kind of stayed there and we sat and had coffee and we talked.  I can’t recall all that we talked about, but time went by and before I knew it, it was time for me to go and get the buggy back to the house for Candy and Miss Ann to come back.

 

Her name is Hester.  I already know that she’s going to be my wife.  You may think I’ve gone crazy, perhaps I have, but I don’t feel crazy.  I don’t feel like whooping and hollering, nothing like that, I just feel that this is the woman I love, and the woman I’m going to marry.   Sure, she could say no, I guess, but I don’t think so.  It feels like we’re cut from the same cloth, you understand what I mean, don’t you? 

 

Pa and Joe didn’t ask too many questions, and to be honest, I didn’t tell ’em much.  I didn’t want to tell them about Hester just yet.  You’re the very first to know, Adam.

 

I wish you were  here.  I wish I could be standing in the stables grooming Chubb and you there grooming Sport, and we were standing back to back and talking, like we used to do when you was here.   I want to talk about her, to you.  That’s all. I just wish I could talk to you about her, and I know you’d understand exactly what I mean, and how I feel, ain’t I right?

 

Good night, brother”

 

Chapter 79

 

The Shenandoah slid elegantly into her berth at the harbour, following in the wake of the Baltimore.   As Adam surveyed the work being carried out by the crew in preparing the ship for docking, and the noise and chatter of the men working on the quayside, he felt a surge of relief rush through his body that left him gripping the taffrail in as near a state of exhileration that it was possible for a body to contain.

 

Tokyo, at last.  His assignment over, the Baltimore and Captain O’Brien safely delivered, the loss of Mr Hampton duly mourned, and the capture of Cassandra Pelmore fulfilled. He allowed  himself a brief moment for prayerful thanks, a lingering thought of his Pa and the anticipation of letters from home, and the pleasurable hope of a long hot bath.

 

As he made his way across the deck he glanced quickly at the door of the cabin flanked by the two Marines as though to confirm that she was really there, his prisoner, and soon to be safely delivered to Mr Bingham and the Embassy staff as per instructions.  The men were gathered to pipe him off the ship, he gave a snappy salute to his Officers and was soon walking smartly down the gangplank onto terra firma.

 

He turned as O’Brien hailed his name, and with a smile waited for his fellow Officer to join him, before they walked side by side to the waiting carriage.  Once settled inside O’Brien looked over at Adam and grinned,

 

“You know, Adam, I’m really proud of you.”

 

Adam laughed, slightly embarrassed and slightly puzzled, as his friend surveyed him from the seat opposite,

 

“Why so?”

 

“Because you have come through this little adventure without a bruise, bump, or broken limb.  It’s wonderful, almost a miracle.” and he laughed himself at his own joke, although Adam did point out to him that where injuries were concerned, the honours certainly went to O’Brien this time.

 

……………………………

 

Bingham rose to his feet at the entrance of the two Captains into the large room, and without any pomposity at all walked quickly towards them, halving the distance they would have had to walk to reach the desk over which he presided.

 

He shook their hands enthusiastically, pumping them up and down with a vigour more usual from a younger man, and ushered them to where his secretary had placed two chairs.

 

“Sit down, I’ve arranged some refreshments.”  he looked thoughtfully at them both, and then nodded slowly, his face losing its pleasure at seeing them and being replaced instead by a thoughtful contemplation, “So?  Hampton isn’t with you, Captain O’Brien?  I know you will have your reports -” he glanced briefly at the port manteaux both men carried with them, “and documentation of events there, but - what happened to him?”

 

As succinctly as possible O’Brien explained the events as they had befallen them, how Hampton and men from the Baltimore had died in the Kurile Islands, bravely, unnecessarily.

 

“He’ll be greatly missed.”  Bingham murmured with genuine sympathy, “He had a great mind, not the strongest personality of course, but as a diplomat here in Japan his services would have been greatly appreciated.  He had a fine future ahead of him.”  there was a pause long enough to be considered decent with regard to Mr Hampton before he turned to Adam, “Well done, Captain Cartwright, you brought back the Baltimore safely and also Commodore Pelman’s widow.” he paused now and looked at Adam thoughtfully, “No doubt you must have wondered why exactly she was being brought here, and not taken directly to America for trial?”

 

“I was puzzled about that, after all her crimes go back a long way.   Of course, she could hide behind the fact that the Commodore and her brother were mainly responsible but in the end she was the one that directed matters as far as the theft of the Baltimore was concerned.”

 

“Tell me what happened, Captain Cartwright, in your own words.   Then when I get to read your report I will be able to recall the ’flesh and blood’ aspect behind the words.” he smiled, and sat back in an attitude of elegant anticipation of what Adam had to tell him.

 

Adam didn’t waste time on unnecessary fancy words to dress up the matter, but laid it out before the diplomat as sparely as possible.  Bingham nodded thoughtfully, paid careful attention to what was said, and eventually, when the flow of words ended, he exhaled, as though he had been holding in his breath for fear of interrupting the dialogue.

 

“Yes,” he said quietly, “Yes, you did very well. Both of you .. And this Willoughby, an artist did you say?” he looked at O’Brien who nodded and added that he owed his life to the man, Bingham smiled, “Mr Willoughby is well known to us, yes, he is an artist and a very skilled one at that, but he works for the British Government and was on the same trail as yourselves after one of their own ships had been stolen.  Sadly his brother, Archer, was killed.”

 

Adam said nothing, and chose to look down at the floor rather than look in O’Brien’s direction.   All these twists and turns, he pondered, at the end who can trust whom?  Every road had a fork in it, and who was to know which was the right way to go.  He glanced up to see Bingham looking at him with a faint smile on his lips, and a kindly expression in his eyes,

 

“You are disillusioned with life, Captain - or should I now call you  - Commodore Cartwright?”

 

“Was it that obvious?”  Adam replied with a life to the eyebrows and a quirk of a smile.

 

“Oh, perhaps not, but  at my age I have gone through life studying men, and for all your intelligence and native cunning, you are still an idealist at heart.  Why else would you have turned down your promotion?”  he smiled and touched Adam’s arm gently with his hand, as a father would pat his child’s arm in consolation, “Now, let me answer the question with regard to Mrs Pelman.    It was considered too dangerous to take her to America for her trial, I doubt very much that she would have arrived there alive, as we have been informed there are threats against her life.   Unfortunately, Mrs Pelman knows too much about too many to be considered safe.   Even in her own circles she is now considered a loose cannon, unreliable, and a threat to their security.” he looked at Adam again and shook his head, “Yes, I can see what you are thinking, Commodore, politics is a dirty business, and no one stays clean in it for long.   Your enemies last week are your allies today, your friends tomorrow, and in your bed next week.  Who can tell what they will be in a year to come.”

 

A young Japanese woman with the most beautiful kimono and sweetest smile entered the room at this point and placed upon the table some refreshment.  Without a word she poured out tea and carried each cup to the men, food was carried to them, again in silence, then she bowed low and made her exit, even the doors closed silently behind her.

 

“When Pelman’s little organisation began to unravel, it fell upon Metcalfe and his sister to continue with what resources they had at their disposal.  Well, the fact is that their original focus shifted, it became a perfectly personal business between the two of them to rake in as much money and gold as they could in order to - well, just live well.  Their ideals alienated them from what was left of Pelman’s group.  Those names on that famous list that you guarded so well all that time ago, Captain, may be far fewer, but there are still some quite formidable names still existing and surviving who have now changed their focus also … they have now chosen to become our allies and work along with us.   At the same time they want Mrs Pelman handed over to them.”

 

Adam put down his now empty cup and frowned, he stretched out his legs and shook his head thoughtfully,

 

“And they’re waiting in America to ‘deal with’ Mrs Pelman?”

 

“The word is that they’ve already decided how to ‘deal with’ Mrs Pelman.”

 

“And you don’t think it’s possible for them to have arrived here, in Tokyo?”

 

Bingham shook his head,

 

“We’ve not heard of anyone coming here from that group.  Metcalfe had his contacts here of course, but they have all been rounded up, as the saying goes.” he smiled, “No, you have no fears on that score.  Mrs Pelman will be held here for trial.  The embassy is American soil, and she will be tried here.”

 

“Then your staff will make arrangements for her to be brought here from the Shenandoah?”

 

“Certainly.  Cadet Phillips and Mr Sweetman, the two men who were also involved will also be brought here for trial.” he rose to his feet and extended his hand, “Congratulatons, Commodore.” he smiled, “You won’t turn down your promotion again, will you?  You must feel that you deserve it by now?”

 

“I’ve come to realise that what I feel or think on a matter really has little bearing on what happens anyway, Sir.” Adam smiled slowly, and his dark eyes looked sombre for an instant, “May I ask whether or not Captain O’Brien may take some leave?”

 

Bingham pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, he glanced from one to the other and walked to his desk, where he took two envelopes from a folder, these he handed to the two men.

 

“These are your orders.  Thank you, Commodore, Captain.  I daresay that we shall see you again soon.”  he shook hands again and then stepped aside to allow them to leave the room.  As the door closed behind them he exhaled once more, then slowly, wearily, made his way back to the chair behind the desk.

 

The Japanese woman came and took away the tray, her feet made barely a sound upon the floor.   Bingham stared at the door through which the two men had left the room, and allowed his mind to wander back over the stories he had been told, then he slowly picked up the papers from the portmanteau left by O’Brien and began to read.

 

………………………

 

The two men walked side by side along the crowded sidewalk and it was Adam who hailed a rickshaw to take them back to their ships.  Neither spoke and neither of them had opened the envelope that contained their orders.  No leave - .   Their hearts had sunk.  Daniel thought of his wife and the amount of time he had spent away from her, and Adam thought of his home, of his father and brothers.  He wanted to saddle  up Sport and go riding again, to look down upon Lake Tahoe, to go and visit those places he so loved and longed to see.

 

He had one foot on the step to jump into the rickshaw when he heard their names being called. He looked at O’Brien and then back over his shoulder, to see Jeffrey Jamieson hurrying through the crowded street towards them.   The memory of when he had last seen Jeffrey flooded back into his mind, and he turned away from the rickshaw to greet his old friend with a warm and hearty hand shake.

 

Jeffrey Jamieson was thinner than when they had last met, there were shadows under his eyes and a feverish look about him, he shook their hands with a distracted air and then smiled,

 

“I’ve been looking out for your ships.  When I saw them in harbour I found out from the crew that you were both safe.”

 

“Are you alright, Jeffrey?  You look ill.” O’Brien observed.

 

“Oh don’t mind me, sir, I’ll be alright, I’m just not climatised to Japan yet.” he placed a hand within his jacket and withdrew from therein several letters which he held out to them, “I was going to bring them to you on board ship but my hotel is near by if you would prefer to come back with me there.”

 

“Thank you, Jamieson, but we are still under orders, so had best return to our berths.  Would you care to join us?”  Adam smiled and was pleased when the other man smilingly accepted the invitation.

 

Now all three clambered aboard their vehicle.  The traffic around them throbbed with life, the voices of many men and women shrilled above their heads drowning out the sounds of the birds that flew above their heads.   It smelt like a city, and Adam, after so many days at sea with the fresh clean air, wondered why it was that a mass of humanity thrust so close together could not find some means by which to prevent fouling the air so thoroughly.

 

Chapter 80

 

“Well, Jamieson, sit down and let’s have something decent to drink to celebrate being all together again.” Adam rubbed his hands and headed towards the tantalis, having almost casually cast down his letters upon his desk, he turned with a smile “Whiskey?  Brandy? Port?”

 

O’Brien was happy to take the whiskey, and Jamieson naturally agreed with the choice. Golden sparkling whiskey all the way from Scotland, a truly grand Glenfiddich.  He pulled up a chair but it was Daniel who spoke first,

 

“Jamieson -  before we discuss anything else, have you any news about Maria, about my wife?”

 

“Yes, indeed, sir.   She’s well and safe and being cared for by the Frobishers until your return.” Jamieson replied, “I’m sure there’s a letter from her for you among those I brought along with me.” he turned now to Adam, “You have no doubt heard that Metcalfe is dead.”

 

“Yes, do you know what happened?”

 

“Indeed I do, sir, I was the one shot him.”  and he related the story with the gusto of a born raconteur which amused Adam although he made sure that his amusement did not interfere with his concentration, “Fact is, sir, his hatred of you shifted his focus.  If he had just got on with what he was supposed to do, perhaps the Baltimore would be in Russian hands now, and he and his sister safe in France.” 

 

“So why are you here, Jeffrey?” Adam asked quietly, swirling the whiskey round and round in his glass, and watching the way the light caught at it and reflected golden beams within it, “You’re not here just to play post man, are you?”

 

“No, sir.  Although the Metcalfes were initially out to steal the Baltimore right from under everyone’s noses, Mr Hampton wasn’t quite as innocuous as would initially seem.  Forget about anything you were told about him in the past, the fact was that he was essential to the diplomatic balance here in Japan.  There’s not much I can tell you, expect that with his death there could be problems with the Japanese over certain issues about which only he knew about - not that any of that makes much sense to me but -”

 

“Just tell us why you’re here, Jeffrey.” Adam asked, “I’m not interested in the politics, in fact, I’m sick of hearing about politics and diplomacy … just say, as briefly as you can, why  you’re here in Tokyo.”

 

“Well, it’s to do with Mrs Pelman, sir.  I have orders to take her back to America.”

 

O’Brien and Adam looked at one another, and then at Jeffrey;  Adam shook his head

 

“That can’t be possible.  We were given orders to bring her here to stand trial. Mr Bingham has explained why that was necessary -” he paused, “Is that the only reason?”

 

“And to persuade you to take her back to Washington, Commodore.” there was a grimness now to Jeffrey’s voice, the friendly tones were being replaced by the more determined ones of a man having to carry out his duty.

 

“Under whose orders?”

 

“Someone with more authority that Mr Bingham, sir.”

 

Both Adam and Daniel looked once again at one another, pulled out the envelopes from their pockets and ripped them open. Adam was the first to read through the orders it contained, he looked up at  O’Brien, who was still scanning through his, and then he turned to Jamieson,

 

“My orders are to stay in Tokyo in order to stand as a prosecution witness against Mrs Pelman.”  he said, and his voice was incredulous, he looked at O’Brien, “Daniel?”

 

“Mine are the same -” Daniel replied quietly, he folded the letter and returned it to the envelope.  “I would have to see written orders from the authority for whom you are acting, Jeffrey, before I disobey these.”

 

Jamieson nodded, and expressed the opinion that he quite understood what was happening.   ‘Mr Smith’ had obviously not informed Mr Bingham of the latest steps in this particular arrangement, once they were received, then obviously Adam and Daniel’s orders would be rescinded, and brought up to date.

 

“Mr Bingham gave us good reasons why the trial was to be held here -” Adam replied, tapping the envelope thoughtfully against his knee.

 

“I can imagine what those reasons were too, sir.”  Jeffrey chewed on his bottom lip, and shrugged, “There are people back in America who want to see Mrs Pelman dead before she gets to trial, she knows too much about too many - isn’t that the case, sir?”

 

“Go on?  You know more about this than we do, so if you can convince us then we’ll go and see Mr Bingham.”

 

“It was Metcalfe who let on about contacts here in Japan.  Before he died, he said too much.  We thought we had caught most of them, but it didn’t happen like that, unfortunately.  There’s always one or two that slip through the net, and these particular people were very pleased when they knew Mr Hampton had died, now they just want to make sure that Mrs Pelman doesn’t go to trial.”  he cleared his throat, “’Mr Smith’ isn’t bothered one way or the other about getting her to trial, he wants to know everything she knows, he’d prepared to - talk things over with her and come to some amicable agreement.”

 

“You mean he’ll pay her for information and let her get away with treason and murder?” Daniel cried in amazement.

 

“That’s politics, sir.  On a small scale, try and think of it as a game of chess.”

 

“I don’t want to think about it in any way.”  Daniel cried, “The woman is guilty of heinous crimes, she and her brother are responsible for the death of my men, the theft of my ship, of treason and … and it’s all going to be a case of slate wiped clean for information?  For goodness sake, Jamieson, you can’t even trust a single word the woman says!”

 

He was striding up and down the cabin now, arms waving from side to side, and his eyes blazing with anger, while Adam remained very still, his head down staring at the floor.  After a moment or two he told his friend to calm down, to sit down and to start thinking.

 

“Jamieson - did you receive written orders from ‘Mr Smith’?”

 

“I received my orders from my usual source, Commodore.”  Jamieson replied, “They came direct from the Pres - Mr Smith himself.”

 

Adam rose to his feet, and picked up his orders which he slipped back into his pocket before turning to collect his hat, he looked at Daniel,

 

“I think we need to go and see Mr Bingham, and put the matter to him.  Will you come too, Jeffrey?”

 

“I will, sir.” Jamieson stood up, finished his whiskey and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

 

They had reached the gangway and were about to descend to the quayside when a carriage drew up alongside the Shendandoah.   A man of middle years, respectable to look at and well attired, stepped out of it and with a smile made his way up to the deck where the three men were observing him.  As he neared the deck a platoon of blue jacketed Marines appeared in marching formation and came to attention behind the vehicle.

 

“Commodore Cartwright?”  he put out his hand “I’m Harold Worthing.  I’ve written authority here to take Mrs Pelman to jail.” he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Adam, who read it before he passed it to Daniel to read.

 

Chapter 81

 

It was Jeffrey who stepped closer to Daniel and put out his hand towards the paper,

 

“May I see this, please?”

 

Worthings eyebrows shot up in  surprise and he darted a look over at Adam, anticipating some reaction on his part, but Adam only nodded and watched as Jeffrey scanned the directions on the paper and then handed it back to the Captain.

 

“I’m sorry, Mr Worthing, I didn’t mean to cast doubt on the veracity of your orders, but I’m afraid that I have orders of my own that must negate yours,” he looked thoughtfully at Harold Worthing before producing papers of his own which he handed over to the other man.

 

There was a silence among the four men that drew the attention of the crew, one by one they stopped their work and turned to observe their Captain and the other three men.  The Sergeant of Marines, Armstrong, stepped forwards with his hand close to his rifle, and his eyes sending signals to the Marines who stood prepared for action at any time on board ship. They seemed to close ranks even though they didn’t move a muscle.

 

Adam rubbed his chin with one hand, and narrowed his eyes as Worthing took his time to scrutinise Jeffrey’s papers, particularly the signature at the bottom.  Slowly he handed it over and then shook his head, as though confused,

 

“This places me in rather an awkward position,” he said, “I’m not in a position to disobey what my superiors have ordered me to do”

 

“I appreciate that,” Jeffrey replied, “Commodore Cartwright was about to visit Mr Bingham to clarify the matter with him.  Perhaps you would like to come with us?”

Adam bit his bottom lip rather, the way Jeffrey consistently referred to him now as Commodore was grating on his nerves.  At the back of his mind he felt as though President Grant was pulling invisible strings and manoeuvring him into taking on the promotion whether he wanted it or not.  He shook his head slightly, as though to cast off any misgivings he had, and looked at Worthing

 

“I’m sure that we can clarify the situation with Mr Bingham quickly enough, Mr Worthing.  You are certainly most welcome to come with us -”

 

Worthing sighed and shook his head in obvious irritation.  He was a handsome man, somewhat florid and obviously of a bilious nature.  He threw his hand up in a gesture of annoyance

 

“No, there’s no point. I shall report back to my superior and leave him to clear up the mess.  He will, no doubt, make an appointment to see Mr Bingham himself and - “ he shrugged, “well, it’s better for him to deal with it.  Perhaps I shall see you again, sir.” he nodded his head curtly in Adam’s direction, cast a quite hostile look at Jeffrey, and turned to disembark from the ship.

 

“I think,” Jeffrey said slowly, “that it may be better if I stayed on board here, sir.  You can present these orders to Mr Bingham without my being present.  I just feel that gentleman was testing the waters, so to speak.”

 

“You think it may have been one of Metcalfe’s associates?” O’Brien murmured anxiously.

 

“I’m suspicious by nature, Captain” Jeffrey smiled, his wan face creased and formed deep wrinkles under the eyes, “It was just that his coming now was just too opportune.  It made me feel uncomfortable.”

 

…………………..

 

Cassandra slowly closed the window and leaned against the wall of the cabin.  It seemed to her that not only was the cabin closing in on her but that life itself was very slowly creeping in a deadly confinement of its own.   She had realised some while back that it was possible to hear the conversations of the men when the window was open.  That was one of the ways she had been able to communicate with Phillips and Sweetman during the journey from the Kurils.  But now, however, she found herself wondering why the conversation between the four men had affected her so adversely, she was breathing hard, her hands were clammy, and her heart beating too fast.

 

She couldn’t leave the security of the wall. It’s rough timbers against her back seemed to have a will of their own in keeping her pressed against them.  Adam’s voice, she had heard that clearly, her ear was well attuned to every nuance of his voice now.  O’Brien’s voice was slightly muffled but she could recognise it still, the other two men who seemed to have her life in their hands, she had not recognised at all.

 

She put one hand to her brow and ran her fingers through tousled hair, and then down over her face.  She had told Adam that there were people who would kill her, that she didn’t want to die, but had she explained clearly enough to him what exactly it was she had meant?  No, no, of course she had not, because she knew he would never believe her, never. 

 

She felt a pressure building up around her, as though all the threads of her life were being tweaked and pulled together to form one strong rope, and that eventually, sooner or later, that rope would be put around her neck.

 

“I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die -” she moaned to herself and pulled herself from the wall to hurry to the safety of the bed.  She pulled the sheets around her, up to her chin, swathed like a child in swaddling bands, and then lay down, “No, no, I don’t want to die.”

 

There was a light tap on the door and like a frightened cat she started up, her eyes round and overlarge in her face, her hair looking as though it were standing on end.  A thin man stepped into the cabin, followed by Armstrong and the boy from the kitchen who brought her some food and fresh water to drink. 

 

“Who are you?” she peered forward to look more closely at the figure approaching her, “Do I know you?”

 

Jeffrey Jamieson paused and looked at her thoughtfully.  Was this really the beautiful Cassandra Pelman?   The few times he had seen her, always from a distance, she had been so magnificent a figure, so immaculate and always resplendent with jewels. Now she sat on an unmade bed with a sheet wrapped around her, her face, stripped of its paint and powder, was pale and her cheeks were sharp angles to the largeness of her eyes.  In some ways she was more lovely stripped down like this but Jeffrey had enough sense to remember that when a rat is cornered, that was when it could be most dangerous.  He cleared his throat,

 

“Mrs Pelman, my name is Jeffrey Jamieson.” he waited a moment to see if there was any reaction, but she only inclined her head to the left a little more as though to catch a better look at him in the light, perhaps she had not yet been told about her brother’s death or given the name of the man who had killed him?

 

“Yes?  Jeffrey Jamieson?”  her voice was slurred and for a moment he wondered whether or not she were drunk or ill, she lowered her head, “I’m sorry, I’m just so tired, I’ve not been able to sleep for so long.” she raised her head now, blinked rapidly and seemed to focus better on him “Why are you here?  Who are you?”

 

“I’m an emissary from the President.  I just wanted to inform you that you will be travelling to America for your trial.”

 

“What difference will that make to me?” her voice held more strength now, as though having the opportunity to cross swords with anyone strengthened her will, “It’s all the same in the end.”

 

“Not necessarily.” Jeffrey said, “There may be ways where you can avoid what you may well feel to be the end.”

 

She raised one shoulder in a gesture of contempt, and then turned away.  So far as she was concerned the audience was over.  Jamieson also felt that it was time for him to leave. He had put forth the position as he had seen fit and promptly left the cabin.

 

Armstrong came out with him, turned the key in the padlock and nodded over to the two men who were guarding it.   Jeffrey walked over to where the gangway had been placed and leaned against the rails there.  He scanned the quayside with his eyes, and wondered how Adam and O’Brien were getting on with their task, for some reason he had a feeling that Bingham would not be too pleased to have been pre-empted by Grant.  He looked again at the people going about their business on the ground and for a moment his eyes lit upon a face that looked familiar.  He looked again, but apart from the movement of a man with his back to him, and then, suddenly, gone, there was nothing, no one.

 

He rubbed his eyes, and leaned  upon his hand to watch the comings and goings below.  There was no doubt about it, he told himself, he should have stayed longer at the Ponderosa and recovered better from his injury for it had left him weak, very weak, and ill.

 

…………

 

Bingham put down the paper, and sucked in his breath. He looked at Adam and then at O’Brien, shook his head and spread out his hands,

 

“You have to remember that there is over a days difference in time between Japan and America.  Orders, statements and such never seem to arrive as quickly as one would wish, or if they do, they never seem to get to my desk as promptly as they should.”  he rose to  his feet “I had a foreboding earlier, when you left, that something would go wrong in connection with this woman.”

 

He walked around the desk and came to stand between both men, placing a hand on an arm of each of them, and then walked slowly towards the door with them,

 

“In some ways I am relieved to be honest.  I met Cassandra Pelman and her husband years ago, and she made me feel very uncomfortable, very ill at ease.  Beauty like hers can be a very dangerous thing, and considering the things she has done, I don’t feel that that theory is far wrong.   Commodore, will you undertake this assignment?”

 

“I’ve never yet refused any request the President has asked of me,” Adam said in a voice that was cold and formal, it certainly lacked the warmth of zeal and enthusiasm.

 

“Yes, I can understand how you feel, my boy.” the older man sighed, “You’re in a difficult position, aren’t you?”  he frowned,  “The Shenandoah will be too slow, you will need a faster ship.” he looked thoughtfully at O’Brien and then, seeing that they had now reached the doors of the room he stopped and released their arms, “I shall have to consider a few things, make some alterations to previous arrangements.  Captain O’Brien you will be needed as a witness at her trial -” he nodded in confirmation of some thought “I shall send you your orders within a few hours.”

 

Adam and O’Brien saluted the diplomat, then walked quickly from the building, hailed a rickshaw and made their way back to the ship.  Neither one of them spoke a word, both had retreated into worlds of their own, after a moment or two had elapsed O’Brien said with a lightness in his voice

 

“If I am allowed to return with you, Adam, then I shall be able to see Maria again.” and he smiled, a smile that shone from his eyes at the thought of his little wife in his arms once again.

 

 

 

Chapter 82

 

They approached the harbour in silence and as they passed the ships that were berthed along the way, Adam began to take particular note of their names and their countries of origin.  He seemed so engrossed in this occupation that O’Brien leaned forward to observe  his friends attention and then glanced over at the ships, before he settled back into his seat.  He waited, in time he knew that all would be disclosed, but for the present moment Adam was engrossed in some scheme, O’Brien’s only fear was that it would be too foolhardy to risk.

 

“O’Brien, can you spare me some of your time still?  I want to discuss something with you and Jamieson before you go back to the Baltimore.”

 

They had stepped from the rickshaw now, and Adam had paid their ’driver’ with a reasonable extra few coins and O’Brien smiled, he would have rubbed his hands with glee if that wouldn’t have aroused Adam’s suspicions that some of his thinking processes were now becoming as familiar to O’Brien as they were to his brothers.   Jamieson was waiting for them at the top of the gangplank, where the gangway provided an opening in the bulwark.

 

“Captain boarding …” and the whistle was piped to welcome the Officers back on board, which was acknowledged by a swift salute.

 

Adam beckoned to Jamieson and together the three men made their way to the Captain’s cabin, Myers and Hathaway watched a little enviously knowing that they had never quite made it in their Captain’s estimation or affection as these two men obviously had over time.

 

As Adam passed Scott he requested coffee, hot and strong, and then closed the door. He looked at the two men, indicated that they sat down, and then frowned, bit his bottom lip and tapped his fingers upon the top of his desk,

 

“Jamieson,” he spoke so suddenly that Jamieson actually jumped, “I need to retain the orders that President Grant gave you.”

 

“Certainly, sir, they’re yours to keep.  You may well have need of them.” Jamieson smiled.

 

Adam nodded at that, and paced the length of the cabin before turning to come to a stop in front of them,

 

“O’Brien, how much do you want to see your wife again?”

 

“Do you have to ask?” O’Brien laughed, and a slight blush mantled his cheeks.

 

“Is the Baltimore at full strength now?”

 

“No, I lack a First Mate, a Doctor, I have only one engineer and need several good crewmen.”

 

“How many crewmen?”

 

“At least four.”

 

“Very good.”  he sat down, stretched out his long legs and steepled his fingers together before tapping them gently against his chin.  “Now, I believe I really feel it is time I put my authority as a Commodore - I am a Commodore, aren’t I, Jamieson?”

 

“Oh, yes, indeed you are, sir.” Jamieson retorted, “In fact, Mr Smith -”

 

“We’ll leave Mr Smith out of this for the moment, Jeffrey.  As Commodore of the fleet here in Tokyo Bay, I propose that Captain O’Brien, due to health problems incurred as a result of his loyally defending the American naval interests here in Japan, should take several weeks leave.  This leave begins as from now.   Captain O’Brien will hand over his responsibilities to myself.  I shall take over the command of The Baltimore.”

 

“Oh - well - it’s true that Mr Smith -” Jamieson paused at the stern glance from the Commodore, and glanced at O’Brien who had leaned forward slightly in order to get the full benefit of Adam’s ‘orders’.

 

“Now, having read through the orders of our superior, President Grant, I note that he wants his ship returned and the person who stole it in the first place taken to Washington.  I believe that we should proceed to do this immediately - “ he paused as there came a knock on the door and Scott entered with refreshments.

 

O’Brien was chewing his fingernails now and Jamieson was studying the colours of the rug on the floor with such attention that he was in danger of going cross eyed.  Adam rose to his feet, thanked Scott who left the cabin, and then proceeded to pour them out coffee.  He smiled …

 

“I can see that you’re confused …” and his eyes twinkled, “but, really, all we are doing is obeying orders.  There’s no need for us to hang around here waiting for Mr Bingham’s permission to leave.”

 

“Do we actually need his permission?” O’Brien asked in a voice that held the tremor of a chuckle, and he glanced over at Jamieson who was frowning slightly although nodding as though he could see the plausibility of the idea but whether or not it was actually a good idea had yet to surface.

 

“Whether we do or not is irrelevant, “Adam dismissed Mr Bingham with a shrug of his broad shoulders, “the point is, O’Brien, that we get a full complement of men on board the Baltimore, plus Mrs Pelman.”

 

“What about Phillips and Sweetman?”  Daniel asked with a slight lift of the eyebrows.

 

“I noted there were enough American ships here to supply the required number of Captains to hold  a court martial with regard to their misdemeanours.  Obviously their main witness won’t be there - Jamieson, you’re looking like my brother Hoss when there’s no supper, what’s the matter with you?   Don’t  you think it’s a grand idea?”

 

“It’s - well - not strictly ethical.” Jamieson replied slowly, but with a smile, “but I do agree with you, it is a good idea.”  he looked thoughtfully at them both, “I think you should follow it through as quickly as possible.”

 

“Now, that’s good, we’re all agreed then?  Daniel, this is what we’ll do -” he paused and glanced again at Jamieson “Jamieson, I get the impression that you know something that I don’t?  Has something happened while we were away?”

 

“I saw someone I thought I recognised -,” Jamieson replied slowly, “In fact, I know I saw him.  That’s why I think you should follow through on your plan as soon as possible.  This situation with the Pelmans and Metcalfe, go far beyond anything you both realise, I’m afraid.  Mrs Pelman is a link in a chain, at the moment her enemies, here and in America, consider her the weak link.  She needs to be removed from here immediately.”

 

“They know she’s here -” O’Brien murmured, “do you think the person you saw was checking the ship out?”

 

“Oh, he’ll know the inside and outside of this vessel by now, sir.” Jamieson smiled pleasantly, “It would be just a matter of time before they’d have some strategy in place to get her.”

 

“Perhaps they’ve already tried,” Adam said quietly and Jamieson looked into the other mans eyes and nodded, “Yes, I thought so, our Mr Worthing wasn’t quite as bona fide as he tried to make out.”

 

“Yes, they weren’t too clever about it, rushed it a bit I’d say,” Jamieson rose to his feet, and looked as though he were standing to attention, “This is where we part company, sir.”

 

“You’re not coming with us, Jeffrey?” Adam looked surprised, puzzled and shook his head, “I thought you’d prefer our company to staying here -” and his face softened into a smile.

 

“As much as I’d like to, sir, I have to stay here.  There’s a lot of clearing up to do.  I wish you every success on this journey, sir.  Mrs Pelman - well, all I can say is watch your back with that one, sir.”

 

They shook hands firmly, and nothing more was said as Jeffrey Jamieson quickly left the cabin.   For a moment the two Officers stood in silence, almost as though in mourning, and it was O’Brien who spoke first

 

“Adam, we’d best get this plan into motion.  If Jeffrey thought we should act fast, then we should do exactly as he suggested.”

 

Adam glanced over at his friend, his eyes lit up as though he were readying himself for a battle.  He smiled and nodded, and with a last regretful glance at the closed door, began to give O’Brien the necessary details.

 

Jamieson hurried down the gangplank and made his way through the quayside, pushing past various workmen until he came to the alley down which the man he had seen earlier had gone.   He walked quickly, looking anxiously around him, from left to right.  When he reached the fork in the road he paused;  for a moment he stood still as he looked around him but only the local people passed by, looked at him in curiosity or ignored him dismissively.   He had left it too late, the trail was already too cold.

 

…………..

 

“Mr Bingham, sir?”

 

The great statesman glanced  up from the letter he was writing, and observed his secretary and several other men waiting for his attention.  He sighed, put down his pen and leaned back in his chair,

 

“Well, what is it?”

 

“Commodore Cartwright has left, he has taken the Baltimore and gone.”

 

Bingham let the words settle into his brain for a second or two.  Commodore Cartwright had gone and taken the Baltimore with him.  He frowned, picked  up his pen and moved back into a more comfortable position in order to continue writing.

 

“Mr Bingham - did you hear what I said?”

 

“Of course.  Since when did I go deaf?”  he scowled at them, “Well?  What am I supposed to do about it?  Did he take the woman with him?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Good.”  he paused a moment, and raised his head to look at the other men, all wearing shocked expressions and looking anxiously at one another, “Good, I’m glad that someone here can still act on their own initiative.   I’m more than  pleased to hear it.  I had a hunch that Commodore Cartwright was still the maverick I’d heard about so much.  Thank you for letting me know. Now, please go away -”

 

It took them some moments to clear the room but when it was finally silent and quiet, Bingham got to his feet and walked to the window.   From there he could see far out to the harbour and bays, to the ships so tall and proud docked along the quayside, and out to the ocean.  He smiled slowly, his eyes searching for a black speck that could  have been the Baltimore.  He looked out to sea and out further, back into his past when he was a young man, fighting for his country, fighting for survival.  There were times when politics and superior officers cornered him as well, and sometimes the burden of them was crushing and frustrating, but there were the times when he broke loose and acted on his own initiative.  Battles were won by the brave, and he felt, just for a moment, young again.

 

Every day life in politics was a battle, a game of chess, move and counter move.  Just for a fraction of time someone had made an unexpected move and changed things according to how they saw it, and as a result Bingham felt he could breathe easy again.

 

Chapter 83

 

The mist settled so finely that it was more like baby’s breath that kissed one’s cheek and then passed on by.  Adam stood on the bridge of the Baltimore and allowed a slight smile to touch his lips, a smile of triumph as his dark eyes watched the coastline of Japan slowly slip into the distance.   There was no one there to caution him that victory had not yet been achieved;  there was no one there to remind him that there was still time and distance to cover before he could claim the victory was won.

 

As it was he felt an excitement that had been missing from the moment he had first sailed into Yokohama Bay.  Even though he was not on board one of his beloved clipper ships with the sails unfurled and glowing white against the sky, he felt a release and joy in life again. The Baltimore was heading homewards, and at the thought he had to clench his fists tight behind his back to suppress the exultant yell that was building up within him.

 

“All’s well, sir.” the helmsman said and smiled. Perhaps the Commodore’s mood was catching, perhaps everyone on board ship - bar one - was feeling this joie de vivre now that they were sailing back home.  Adam turned towards him, he nodded,

 

“Very good, helmsman.”

 

He glanced around the ship again and watched for some moments as the men went about their work.  It was different, this ship being a steamship and not a clipper.  There was something lacking, something that irritated him merely because it lacked the familiarity and beauty of the clipper ship, but even so he watched and observed, and nodded approval when a man glanced up to see his watchful eye upon him.

 

It had all worked well. Soames and Scott had come aboard with him, O’Brien’s doctor having been only too pleased to remain in Tokyo and exchange places with him.  Adam’s steward was happy enough to work alongside O’Brien’s steward and Hathaway had come along as First Mate.  The six men required to make up a full complement had been taken from the Shenandoah’s men, all happy to return home.   Myers had agreed to act as temporary Officer in charge of the Shenandoah, hoping that doing so would assist his climb up the ladder to its becoming a permanent placement.

 

As Adam made his way from the bridge to his quarters he thought back to the method employed in leaving the Shenandoah.  Appreciating Jamieson’s warnings and aware that the ship could well be under observation every attempt had been made to lull the observer into a false sense of security.  Adam and O’Brien strolled to the gangway, chatted, shook hands and parted.  O’Brien walked down the gangplank of the Shenendoah and re-boarded the Baltimore while Adam seemed to do little else but observe the quayside for a while before resuming his place on the bridge of his ship.

 

Groups of seamen came to work on the starboard side of the ship, the ship that could be seen from the harbour and the buildings thereby.  Some lounged against the bulwark of the ship, some gathered in groups to talk and share jokes, others worked, climbing the rigging and checking the lines.  At the same time on the portside a boat was lowered in which Mrs Pelman was seated with the men from the Shenandoah who carefully rowed to the portside of the Baltimore and boarded her by means of a Jacob’s ladder.

 

Adam went to his cabin, retrieved some papers, made a final entry in the logbook of the Shenandoah along with a letter to Mr Bingham. Everything else of his of a personal nature had already been taken by Scott.   As he watched the Baltimore glide away from the harbour side he would have been seen by any observer to salute O’Brien as he stood at the bridge.   Less than five minutes later his skiff had taken him to the other ship and he was bidding farewell to Myers and Kenney who had accompanied him.  It had taken so little time, and whether or not the subterfuge was necessary, he felt that it had been a success.

 

Now he closed the door on his cabin, not so pleasant as his berth on the Shenandoah by any means, far more functional in fact, but his things were there, Scott had got most things in place, and best of all, he now had the time to read his letters.   He loosened the top button of his shirt, and took his seat, picked up his letters and released his breath.  All he had to worry about was a ship coming out to order him back, but he smiled again, he had the orders from the President in his pocket and his rank as Commodore would outrank any Captain who insisted they turn back.

 

His father’s handwriting - it had been so long since  he had had a letter from home.  He ripped open the envelope and took out the paper, and, as he always did, he held it close to his nose and smelt it.   Yes, over all the distance and time it had taken to travel here, there was that indefinable smell that brought to his mind the image of his father seated at his desk, pipe clenched between his teeth, carefully writing the words to his son.  Adam swallowed a gulp, the thought of his father, the big room, that desk … too evocative, too much to dwell upon … he shook his head in order to throw off the lingering memories and began to read.

 

“Dearest son, Adam …”

 

He read on, frowned, and then checked the date and remembered. Of course, McGarthy and his greedy plan to turn the Ponderosa into a checkerboard of open cast mines.  It seemed such a long time ago, and here was his father talking about how they had lost the Ponderosa only to have regained it again by the generosity of a stranger.

 

“Well, at least, I’m assuming it was a stranger.” Ben had written “God bless him, whoever he was or is … I love him as a son.”

 

Adam smiled.  The old fox, that was his way of telling ‘his son’ that his ruse had been rumbled, by him, anyway.

 

Joe’s letter was next.  It was full of Jamieson and Metcalfe’s duel, how Peaches had been involved, that Roy was, thankfully, sheriff again.  They had taken Jamieson back with them to the Ponderosa where he had been really ill, but had insisted on leaving when getting a letter from Mr Smith.  “Who the heck is Mr Smith?” Joe had said with heavy underlining of the words and Adam chuckled and longed to put his arm around his brother’s neck and give him a hug.

 

Hoss’ letter was full of his concerns about losing the Ponderosa, he told his brother how sick at heart he had felt “Shucks, Adam, I couldn’t eat …”  and the relief when they knew the Ponderosa was safe, safe from anyone who would ever think of taking it from them again, “Fact is, though, I was so relieved I still couldn’t eat … I was fair vanishing away, Adam, from lack of food.”

 

Such a long time ago or so it seemed.  Adam folded the letters back into their envelopes and put them away.  He leaned back in his chair and thought about his family, about the Ponderosa, and then his mind trickled back to Jeffrey Jamieson.  He’d been ill, and he had certainly looked ill when they had parted.  It was obvious that his connection with the Baltimore affair was at an end.  Mrs Pelman, the stolen ship - that was all Adam’s responsibility now.  Jeffrey Jamieson had his orders, and that was - well - Adam didn’t know what that was, although he had a feeling, an instinct, that he would probably never see Jamieson again.

 

…………………

 

Cassandra Pelman stood at the bars of what was now her lodgings for the duration of the trip.  No comfortable cabin now, no port hole through which she could eavesdrop on conversations or listen for footsteps passing her door.  She was firmly ensconced in the brig, the bars reached from the ceiling to the floor, the lock was padlocked, and a Marine was positioned at the entrance to the deck.  What she did not appreciate was the fact that she was it’s first tenant, and the Baltimore being a new vessel meant that the brig was clean and unsoiled.

 

She had entered the place like a woman in a trance, a sleep walker that moved through life in a constant dream.  Her few possessions were placed by her bed.  She had stood by and watched them as though she were floating from the ceiling and seeing it all happening to someone else.  She could, in fact, see herself standing there in her pink dress and cloak, hair dishevelled and face pinched and grey.   There was the bed, a blanket and pillow neatly folded at its foot, and there at its side were her trunks, the few that she had been able to take when she left the Kuriles.  

 

Was this now what was going to be her life?  This prison?  She stood there quite dumb,  her hands by her sides staring out into nothingness.   She tried to remember what her life had been before all this had happened, but she couldn’t find the place where she wanted to start so she just stood and stared into space and saw nothing.

 

 

 

Chapter 84

 

Throughout time immemorial the world of politics have had their trained rats that scurry through the sewers of an underworld that are of no concern to the majority of humanity until they would inevitably be drawn into that world by the decisions made by those in power to use, abuse, manipulate and control the information their rats gleaned for them.

 

Elizabeth 1 of England was said to be the first monarch to actually have an organisation set up specifically for such machinations, but it was all going on long before her advent, and continues so even to this modern age.

 

Jeffrey Jamieson was just such a hired rat.  He scurried about on behalf of those to whom he was loyal and if, by chance, he came across a man of particular worth, his loyalty would also be extended to him, so long as there were no conflict of loyalties.  Commodore Adam Cartwright was such a man,  and fitted the criteria Jamieson desired as the maverick seaman was equally obedient to the same person as Jamieson himself.

 

He had watched with some bemusement as Harold Worthing and his militia descended upon the Shenandoah some time after the Baltimore had disappeared over the horizon.  He was further amused by the reaction of Bingham who seemed not only unconcerned at the departure of the ship, the prisoner and the Commodore but rather proud of such actions taken on the part of Grant’s favoured Officer.

 

But as an obedient and hard working rat, Jamieson had his work to do.  There were various threads that needed to be tied up in and around Tokyo to secure a precarious situation that had arisen from Hampton’s demise and which had nothing to do with the adventure of Mrs Pelman and Adam Cartwright.   During several days of toil, however, Jamieson did come across one thread that led back to the Commodore and this he diligently followed through until there was nothing left for him to achieve.

 

On a cool day he sat in his room and wrote out a list of names along with some detailed information about each.  None of this had any connection to Adam at all, but Mr Bingham would find it of considerable interest, and President Grant would slip it into a file and seal it, before locking it away.   He then delivered the paperwork to Mr Bingham who smiled, accepted it and was about to bid Jamieson goodbye when the other man paused,

 

“Mr Bingham, I need you to do something for me.”

 

“Really?  Such as what?”

 

“I need you to contact Commodore Adam Cartwright and warn him not to go to Washington but to proceed to San Francisco.”

 

“Is this to do with that infernal woman?”

 

“Yes - sadly so.”  Jamieson moved from one foot to another, he was never comfortable in the company of men like Bingham although he could talk over a cup of coffee or glass of whiskey with President Grant with great ease.

 

“I shall certainly do what I can -” Bingham smiled, “But you have to remember, Jamieson, Commodore Cartwright does appear to have more lives than a cat.”

 

“I am aware of it, sir, but all cats have only nine lives…” Jamieson smiled dourly.

 

“I take it - some form of reception committee, huh?”  Bingham held the papers Jamieson had given him tentatively between his fingers while he looked at Jeffrey and thought to himself that the man was ill, needed to see a doctor, what if he were wrong … but then he knew that Jamieson was never wrong, his reputation was of the best, of his ‘kind’ he was second to none and, on top of that, it was said he had a good relationship with Grant.  That was enough to elevate any man in Bingham’s eyes.

 

“’They know that Mrs Pelman is a danger to them, sir.”

 

“Can’t you get something through to the Commodore yourself?”

 

“No, sir,” Jamieson shook his head slowly, “No.  I’m already under observation by -” he nodded towards the papers in Bingham’s hands, “When you read that you’ll understand what I mean.  Good bye, sir.”

 

Jeffrey Jamieson stood on the steps of a grand Shinto temple and observed the bustling streets around him.  Tokyo was going to grow, and Japan would one day be a great power in the world.  He didn’t speculate, the information he had gleaned over the past weeks already guaranteed that as a fact.

 

He walked away from the temple into the fading sunlight of the day …

 

…………………..

 

“Congratulations, Joe, I never thought to see the day”  Frederick McGee extended his broad hand and shook Joe‘s with such vigour that Joe’s teeth ached, “I saw your little lady yesterday, my, a pretty little gal and no mistake.  So?  When’s the big day?”

 

“Soon,” Joe gave McGee the benefit of one of his generous smiles and his eyes twinkled, he turned to Hoss, “How about a beer, Hoss?”

 

Hoss nodded, he glanced at McGee and nodded, and walked alongside his brother towards the Sazarac.  Joe paused before they entered to look at  his brother anxiously,

 

“Hoss, is something bothering you?”

 

“No.” Hoss’ blue eyes looked innocently vague.

 

“I noticed you ain’t been eating proper just these past few days.  It ain’t like you to be off your food.”

 

“There’s more to life than food, Joe.” Hoss said quietly and in such a firm tone of voice that Joe blinked, cleared his throat and shook his head,

 

“Excuse me?  Is this Hoss Cartwright I’m listening to?”  he raised a hand to feel Hoss’ brow but Hoss smacked the hand away, “Shucks, Hoss, you are sure you ain’t ailing, ain’t’cha?”

 

“I’m jest fine.  Quit your jawing, Joe, and let’s git this beer you promised me.”

 

“You ain’t paying, huh?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Joe shrugged and together they entered the saloon, draped themselves over the counter and ordered two cool beers.   Joe glanced up into the mirror to observe his brother anxiously, and then chewed a while on his bottom lip while he tried to work out just what was wrong with Hoss.  Hoss meanwhile stood with a blank look on his face and a vague look in his eyes, the same look that had been there for - well - Joe wasn’t sure for how long except that it was for too long.

 

Hoss took his beer and sipped it. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and followed his brother to a table.  He listened as someone came to congratulate Joe on his engagement, another came to shake his hand, a rather ribald comment came from the corner of the room which Joe fended off with a laugh.  Hoss sighed, in his heart he felt a strange detachment from it all.  He had felt like this since that evening he had met Hester.  Detached and yet complete, complete in himself.   Just as Joe had met the girl he loved, and was now happy to have her life conjoined with his own, so did Hoss feel about the woman he had just met.  

 

He didn’t want to share it with anyone just yet, not until he had met Hester and words could be spoken and how he felt, how she must surely feel, could be confirmed and plans discussed and made.  He wanted to keep this wondrous feeling and containment entirely to himself just for now.  He finished his beer and rose to his feet,

 

“Going already?” Joe asked, surprised at the swiftness at which his brother had dispatched of his drink.

 

“Yep, I got things to do.”

 

“I’ll see you back home then -?”

 

“Yeah, sure - see you there.”

 

Joe shook his head and watched his brother leave the saloon.  He had an uncomfortable feeling that something was seriously wrong, really, seriously, wrong.

 

…………….

 

Ben thumbed tobacco into the bowl of his pipe and then struck a match, waited for the flare to die a little before taking it to the tobacco.  He looked over at Joe who was flicking through the pages of a book,

 

“Anything wrong?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“You’ve been mighty quiet this evening.”

 

“I’ve been thinking -” Joe sighed and put down the book which, to Ben’s surprise, was one of Adam’s books of poems, “Pa, I’m mighty worried about Hoss.”

 

“Oh, so you’ve noticed too.”

 

“Is he sick?”

 

“He’s not said so, just very quiet and not eating as much as usual.  Hop Sing noticed it as well.”  Ben frowned and puffed out a perfect smoke ring which considering how concerned he was about his middle son was quite a surprise, one would have expected a far from perfect cloud of smoke from a worried father.

 

“It’s all been since the night of my engagement to Victoria.  Pa, I think he’s jealous. I think he’s in love with Vicky himself and -” he broke off as the door opened and Hoss stepped into the room, brushing rain drops from his hat which he hung on a peg, “Hi, Hoss, where have you been?”

 

“Oh, I had to check out the saplings, remember?”  Hoss frowned over at Joe, who nodded and remembered that he was supposed to have been with his brother checking saplings as well, “Pa, have you heard from Adam at all lately?”

 

“No.” the answer was quick, sharp, adamant.   Mentioning the non arrival of mail from Adam was equivalent to waving a red flag in front of a bull.

 

Hoss dropped himself into a chair and stretched out his legs, he mentioned  the fact that it was raining, not much, not heavy rain.  He crossed his arms over his chest and stared into the flames of the fire … her hair was like that, he mused, like flames around her face, and her eyes, why, they shone like sapphires.  Perhaps he should buy her a sapphire ring when they got engaged. 

 

Ben and Joe glanced at one another, concerned anxious eyes turned to Hoss who remained oblivious of them as he spun his own castles in the air.

 

…………………

 

The light knock on the cabin door preceded Soames’ entry into the cabin which was greeted by a smile from Adam as  he looked up from the book he was reading.  He had only returned to his quarters a brief while earlier having spent the morning on the bridge.

 

“Anything wrong, Soames?”

 

“I’m concerned about Mrs Pelman, Adam.”

 

“Really?  Help yourself to coffee -” Adam indicated the refreshments and glanced back at his book before reluctantly placing it back on the table.  He sighed and tried to find some enthusiasm for the conversation that was about to come,

 

“She’s hardly eating.  She’s feverish and has taken to her bed.  It’s as though she’s willing herself to die.”

 

“She won’t .”

 

“Won’t what?”

 

“She won’t die,” Adam uttered the words coldly, bluntly, then he shook his head as though surprised at his doctor’s concern for their prisoner, “People like Cassandra Pelman don’t die, Soames, they exist, they continue to live and breathe even if on the fringes of existence, merely to make as much of a problem of themselves as they can, and in that way, they impinge on your every waking hour so that you are inevitably drawn into their lives again.   If you’ve never read the stories of Brer Rabbit I recommend that you do so, starting with the story of the tar baby …” 

 

“You’re very hard on her, Adam.”

 

“She’s my prisoner and my responsibility, Soames, that’s all.”

 

“She’s a woman, a sick woman.  Show some compassion if only for that reason.”

 

Adam cast a long thoughtful look at Soames, and grimaced, he picked up his book and turned some pages, before looking over at Soames once again,

 

“You’re the doctor, you have a responsibility to her as well, you know.”

 

“I know, that’s why I’m here now.” Soames sipped at his coffee and then turned to look at the books on the shelf as though to find the stories of Brer Rabbit about to fall into his hands, he sighed,  “However you feel about her, she’s just a woman.”

 

“No, that’s where you’re wrong.” Adam replied with a sigh, “Cassandra Pelman is your modern day Medusa, as you may very well discover for yourself one of these days.” he stroked his upper lip with  his fingers, and then rose to his feet, “Very well, doctor, I’ll go and see what she wants -” and he turned, picked up his hat and quietly closed the door behind him.

 

Chapter 85

 

Cassandra Pelman recognised the firm tread of Adam’s footsteps as he approached the brig.  She pulled at a curl of hair and wound it pensively around her finger with her head a little to one side as she concentrated as to where the footsteps were leading him and when it became obvious that they were coming towards her she drew away from the shadows, arranged her dress to appear a little more modest, and knelt upon the floor, her elbows on the seat of the only chair in the cell, and her face buried in her hands. 

 

Adam paused a moment at the sight of her and as he approached Adam’s side Soames cast a look over at the other man as though of reproach.  Adam could almost hear the man’s thoughts and none of them very positive about himself.   He looked at Cassandra and firmed his mouth into a thin line of frustration, while the only thing he could think about was what game was she playing now.

 

She raised her head from her hands, and gazed at them both with piteous moist eyes, heavy with recent tears.  For a moment she allowed herself to gaze  upon Adam’s face as though searching for some softening pity and compassion

 

“I’m told, Mrs Pelman, that you are ill.  I’m sorry to hear it,” Adam paused, and frowned, “It would appear the doctor is taking good care of  you though.”

 

“Yes, he’s a good man.”

 

“Is the food not to your liking?” Adam glanced at the bowl of food, half eaten, by the bed, “We have a new cook now, you know?” he added sarcastically and was rewarded by another glowering look from the doctor.

 

“I can’t eat.” she whispered, raising her head, “I can’t -” she paused, “I can’t stop thinking of those poor men who died -”

 

“Which ones are you thinking about today, Madam?” the cold voice intoned.

 

“The men on the Kuril Islands of course.” she lowered her eyelids slowly and observed the floor, “I know you don’t believe me but I knew nothing about their conditions, and how badly they were being treated.  I wish,” she drew closer, one hand clasped one of the metal bars, “I wish you would believe me,  Commodore, I was just a pawn in this business.  My brother and husband were the instigators of it, I never knew what was going to happen.”  she let a tear drop upon her cheeks, “I was just told to go and do the deal - a ship for some gold.  No one told me what was going to happen to the crew.”

 

“Probably because you hadn’t enough interest to ask …” Adam drawled and he glanced over the cell, paid attention to the fact that it was clean, the bed unsoiled. He did notice, however, that her gown was limp and shabby, clinging in a far too provocative fashion to her body.   “Would you like to have a bath?”

 

The question caught her unawares, she looked surprised, pleased and relieved and she smiled, while trying vainly to keep a small glint of triumph out of her eyes.  Adam waited for her reply and then nodded,

 

“I’ll arrange for that to be done, then you can change your clothes into something more decent than what you have on now.  Doctor -”

 

“I forgive you -”

 

The three words were a mere whisper but sounded louder than an explosion for Adam turned, stared at her with a look of disgust upon his face,

 

“You WHAT?”

 

“I forgive you -” she replied, and her eyes rounded into those of an innocent childs, “for not believing me, for being cold and cruel, and for blaming me for things over which I had no control.”

 

They walked away and for some moments she remained exactly as before, head bowed down, her hair tumbling over her shoulders.  It was only when the doors clanged shut that she smiled, a long slow smile that made her eyes gleam with malice and hate.

 

……………..

 

“You are not to go there again -”

 

“What?  You can’t do that, Adam, she’s my patient.”

 

“And she’s my prisoner.   As such I’m forbidding you to go there again. I shall give the Marines guarding her orders not to have you admitted.”

 

“And what if she were dying?”

 

“That’s unlikely to happen, but if it does then send one of your orderlies.”

 

“But -”

 

“Doctor Soames, don’t defy me.  On this ship I give the orders, do you understand?”  Adam’s eyes darkened and his lips were near to trembling with anger, he had to swallow hard in order not to say more than he had already, to hold back the anger that was hot inside of him.

 

“I understand, Commodore, but you’re making a very serious mistake.  Why don’t you just listen to what she has to say?”

 

“And is that it?  Have you listened to what she has to say?” he turned round to look at the Doctor now, a man he had trusted and liked, fallible as all men are, but trustworthy.  “Did she look at you with big eyes, and weep?  Did she ask for forgiveness and ask you to pray for her?  For pities sake, man, wake up to the fact that she is playing you for a fool, and attempting to play us one against the other -” he looked at the rigid disbelieving face and shook his head sadly, “Doctor, you seem to be a religious man -”

 

“I am - I believe in a God of mercy and compassion.” Soames replied rather pompously.

 

 

“Then show some compassion  to her victims, Doctor, the ones who have survived, and spare  a thought for those who did not.”  Adam half turned his head and raised an eyebrow, “Good day, Doctor.”

 

Soames gulped back any words he had intended to say, instead he slowly opened the door and left the cabin.

 

…………………

 

“Pa?”

 

Ben jerked his head up, hoping as he did so that his son would not have realised that he had been about to drop off to sleep over the ledgers, he cleared his throat,

 

“Yes, son?”

 

“The buggy’s gone.”

 

“Gone?  What do you mean, the buggy’s gone?”

 

“It’s gone, been harnessed and taken out.  I needed it for this afternoon.  I was going to take Vicky out for a picnic.”

 

A shuffling from behind them and they turned to see Hop Sing smiling at them, cloth in hand, dark eyes twinkling,

 

“Picnic?  You say picnic?”

 

“That’s right.   I was going to ask if you wouldn’t mind preparing a hamper for two, because I’d planned to take Victoria out while the weather was still holding good.” Joe scowled, his fine mouth twisted into a grimace and the hazel eyes were wide with his confusion and concern.

 

“Wait a moment, Joseph,” Ben put out a hand and placed it as a restraint upon Joe’s arm, “Hop Sing, what do you know about all this?”

 

“Not much,” came the honest laconic reply, “Mister Hoss come in looking very happy and smiling much. He say to Hop Sing ‘Fix picnic, back in moment’.  I fix picnic like I know him really enjoy and he come back look r-e-a-l smart” he winked one eye and nodded to emphasise the words, “then he go with hamper.” he shrugged, “That all.” then he turned and returned back to the kitchen.

 

Joe turned morose eyes to his father and shook his head,

 

“This is it, Pa.  Hoss is making a last ditch attempt to steal Vicky from me …”

 

“I doubt it, Joe.  He’s not shown any interest in her at all. I think you’re letting your imagination run away with you.”

 

Joe ran his fingers through his hair, shook his head and sunk down upon the arm of the settee, while he stared mournfully at the rug

 

“No, I’m not, Pa.  If he loved anyone else he’d have told us by now, wouldn’t he?” and to this Ben nodded in agreement, “But he hasn’t said a word, the reason being because he doesn’t want me to know it’s Victoria.”

 

“I still think you’re wrong.”

 

“Well, I’ll soon find out.”  he jumped up and headed for the door, “I’m going to find them and get the truth out of them before - before I - I kill him.”

 

 

Chapter 86

 

Hester Verlaine glanced out of the corner of her eyes and then returned her gaze to the lake.  She bit into an apple, and sighed.  It was a perfect day and the fact that she was sharing a blanket with Hoss Cartwright didn’t worry her one iota.  The picnic hamper was large and took pride of place between them, although it was considerably emptier than when they had arrived.

 

She glanced out of the corner of her eyes again and smiled,

 

“Why do you keep looking at me?” she turned her full gaze upon him now, smiled and raised her eyebrows, while Hoss stared down at the blanket as though it were the most fantastic combination of colours that side of Virginia City.

 

“Shucks, Ma’am, I - I don’t -”

 

“Yes, you do.”  she said and her eyes crinkled at the corners at the smile she gave him, “Every time I look round you’re looking at me.  Why is that ?”

 

“Guess it’s because I can’t believe you’re actually sitting there as real as can be, and I’m right here beside you - kinda.” he grimaced, went just a little red around the neck, and picked up an apple which he began to absent mindedly polish on his shirt.

 

“Well, I’m here alright,” she laughed, “and really glad to be here too. I love my cousin Ann, but there are times when it’s good to be able to get out of the house and go somewhere else. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you this afternoon.  Thank you, Hoss.”

 

He said nothing to that, just lowered his head and smiled before biting into his apple.

 

“I’d been thinking about you a lot since  you came round that evening of the party.” she said slowly, and a faint pucker of a horseshoe frown appeared between her eyebrows sending a ripple effect of furrows over her smooth brow.  “That was very kind of you, Hoss.  I mean, coming to spend some time with me that evening.  Then today, for some reason I wasn’t really surprised when you drove into the yard, I couldn’t believe my eyes, but I wasn’t surprised.  Don’t suppose that makes much sense, does it?”

 

“I guess it does,” he replied shyly, “I didn’t think you’d come today, what with it being so sudden like, but then when you said you would, I wasn’t surprised niether …” and he smiled at her and blushed a little at the way she smiled back at him.

 

“You said this was one of your favourite places on the Ponderosa.” she turned to look around her, her eyes dwelling upon the lake, and the wide sweep of land that curved into the hills, “It is beautiful, Hoss.  Thank you for bringing me here.”

 

“I used to come here with my brothers, it’s where I taught Joe how to swim.” he stood up and turned to her, holding out his hand and when she gripped hold he felt almost giddy with the feeling it evoked, as it was he said nothing but hauled her up onto her feet, “Here, let’s go down to the shoreline.”

 

She didn’t let go of his hand immediately, but when she did he felt a sense of loss and wondered if she would think to take hold of it again.  As it was she followed him through the grass and wild flowers until they reached the boulder strewn beach, and here they both paused to gaze around.  Hoss picked up a smooth pebble and sent it speeding across the water, it jumped, skimmed and hit the water, skimmed again and three more times until it sunk,

 

“The water’s as clear as can be,” she cried and stooped down to put her hand into it, “It’s cold,” she laughed and quickly withdrew it again, wiping the water off her hand onto her skirt.

 

“The water comes down from the mountains.” Hoss said quietly, “It’s here we found out how we were sitting on a whole heap of gold.”

 

“You did?” she looked at him curiously.

 

“Yep.  Me and Adam.  It was before Joe was born, we were paddling here, trying to catch fish I think -” he creased his brow in an attempt to recall the incident, then shook his head, “Anyhow, we found these shiny stones and filled our pockets with ‘em.  When Pa found them he couldn’t believe his eyes, there it all was, gold right under our noses.”

 

“I suppose it came from the mountains too,” she observed looking up at the vast towering guardians of the Ponderosa, “Yes, I’ve read of that happening before.”

 

They turned to go back, there was still food to eat and cool cordial to drink.  He had turned to make sure she was alright when she caught the heel of her boot against a stone, twisted and would have fallen had he not grabbed at her arm in time, and then swung her into his arms.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, holding her as close as he dared and feeling more than just the hero of the hour when she put her arms around his neck and thanked him with a smile. 

 

He carried her all the way back to their sitting area, where he placed her very gently down upon the blanket. 

 

“You didn’t hurt your ankle, did you?”  he asked, kneeling down at her feet and placing a gentle hand upon her booted foot.

 

“No, I don’t think.”  she leaned over to feel around her foot and her hand brushed against his, “No, I’m sure you caught me in time to prevent any damage.”

 

“I should have realised -”

 

“No, it’s these stupid boots, the heels are too high -”

 

They looked at one another and laughed together, soft laughter, with no real point to it and Hoss blushed again.  Hester patted a curl into place, aware that some things were starting to come adrift, her hair was constantly shedding pins no matter how carefully she tried to ensure their lasting captivity.  Hoss watched her for a moment before turning to look away, the picture of her fussing about her fiery golden red hair would stay in his mind forever.

 

“Hoss?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”  he turned and looked at her, then his smile faded at seeing the seriousness of the look on her face,  “Is anything wrong?”

 

“No, nothings wrong.  Well, I don’t think so -” she paused and bit her bottom lip, “I’ve really enjoyed this afternoon, being with you.”

 

“Wal, I’ve enjoyed it too, thank you.”

 

“I just have to tell you something -” she looked at him then, her face calm and serious, her blue eyes scanned his face, could see that her words worried him, she could see that in his eyes and the expression on his face, “I think you should know that I was married.”

 

“Married?”

 

“Yes.  I want to tell you this now, before it comes out at some later time, as things have a habit of doing.  He was a very nice man, someone  you would have liked actually.  He was a journalist for a New York newspaper.”

 

Hoss nodded slowly, the past tense in her sentences, delivered rather jerkily, reassured him a little, but he waited with baited breath to find out just exactly where they stood in relation to this marriage now.

 

“He was a kind man, like you in that way.” her voice softened, the eyes moistened, “He - that is - we were very young when we married.  He wanted to go and fight in the war, you see.”

 

“And did he?”

 

“Yes.  He did, he sent in reports to the paper about the fighting.  He was what they called a War Correspondent.” she frowned, “then the reports stopped being sent, and I didn’t get any more letters -”

 

“He didn’t come back?”

 

“No.” she sighed, and twisted some threads from the blanket round and round her finger, “No, he never came back.  Just another body lying out there somewhere, buried with so many others, blue or grey uniforms - at that time - what did it matter, they were all blood stained anyway, and covering shattered bodies.” she lowered her head, and a tear made its way down her cheek, Hoss longed to lean forward to wipe it away but it fell from her chin with a plop.

 

“How’d you know -” he paused, it was an unkind question, insensitive, he could have bitten his tongue and lowered his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

 

“I had a letter from one of his friends, a very close friend.  He wrote to tell me what had happened and when the war was over he came to visit me and James’ parents.  He’d lost a leg in the same shell blast that killed James.  He’d have come to see us sooner but they had taken him prisoner.”  she raised her chin then, and stared out once again across the mountains as though she could see him now, walking towards her, a one legged handsome young man bearing bad news.

 

“What side was he - James - fighting for?” Hoss asked gently.

 

“Does it matter?” she replied and looked at him as though not really seeing him, seeing instead her husband and perhaps a thousand others who had died that same day with him.  “They all ended up either dead and buried in some hole in the ground, or a victim in some other way when they declared peace.  All those lives snuffed out, changed forever.”

She looked at him, “You didn’t fight in the war, did  you?”

 

“No, Ma’am, not at all.  Nor my brothers - ‘cepting that they had their own sides but I never did, I was just -” he shrugged, “the man in the middle, I guess.  Leastways that’s what some man called me once.”

 

“I’m glad,” she smiled, her face softening, “I felt the same way, even though James had made a choice, I never could.  Afterwards, looking back on the futility of it all, I was glad that I hadn’t -”

 

“So’m I.” Hoss said and seeing her hand resting upon the ground took hold of it in between his own, she didn’t resist, and he held it gently, like a child would when a butterfly had settled in the palm of his hand.

 

“Hoss, I think you’re one of the kindest men I have ever known.  I could tell that about you the first time I saw you -” Hester folded her fingers gently around his and smiled, her blue eyes looked earnestly into his face.

 

“Miss - Ma’am -”

 

“Hester -” she laughed, “Oh Hoss, please call me Hester.”

 

He laughed then and they leaned towards one another …     “HOSS CARTWRIGHT!”

 

“Dangblast it -” Hoss groaned and turned towards his brother who was rapidly dismounting from Cochise and striding towards him.  He slowly stood up, the bulk of his body shielding Hester so that all Joe could see was the colour of her skirts

 

“Hoss, what are you doing here -” Joe’s voice was shrill and then there was a pause as his eyes beheld the woman peering shyly from behind his brothers shoulder. “Oh, Ma’am,” he touched the brim of his hat and his eyes stared at her and then swivelled to look at his brother who was looking anything but pleased to see him.

 

“Joe, this is Miss - I mean - Mrs Hester Verlaine.  She’s Miss Ann’s cousin.” Hoss gallantly introduced her, and she stepped forwards with a smile and an extended hand which Joe grasped and shook gingerly, looking like a man who had just been struck by lightning.

 

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs Verlaine.”

 

“Hester - please call me Hester,” she smiled, and a curl of golden red hair drifted over her face, this she hastily attempted to tuck behind her ear.

 

Joe grinned, and looked at his brother and then at the detritus of the picnic, he pursed his lips, and raised his ever mobile eyebrows,

 

“Seems I interrupted you - I’m sorry.”

 

“What did you want exactly, Joe?  All that hollering and such, anyone would think the Ponderosa was on fire.”

 

“No - no, nothing like that,” Joe said abashed now at his wrong assumptions “I’ll just get on by - carry on with the chores -” he nodded again at Hester and retreated, avoided tripping over his feet and remounted his horse.

 

So that was it, he mused, Hoss was a-courting.  No wonder he was keeping quiet about everything, her a married woman -.  Joe bit his bottom lip, Pa wouldn’t approve of that, not one bit.  But, he smiled slowly, she was a good looking woman, not lovely like Victoria, more homely than not, but that hair and those eyes - he started whistling to himself, softly - yes, she was a good looking woman, just a pity she was married.

 

……………………

 

Adam did a half turn on the bridge as he heard a light step from behind him, he turned and faced Soames.  Both men looked at one another and it was Adam who inclined his head as an invitation for the other man to speak first.  Davies, the helmsman for that shift, was out of ear shot.  It was only the rustling of the maps on the table, and the slight whisper of the breeze that could be heard now.  Soames stepped forward and glanced over at Davies to make sure the conversation wouldn’t be overheard,

 

“I just came to apologise.” he said quietly, and he sighed and shook his head “Mrs Pelman is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life and for a moment, I mean, for  a while I even forgot how she had stolen that knife from me, that she could have killed  you -”

 

Adam nodded again, and looked at the man thoughtfully.   How many chances does a man get?  He sighed and swept his hand up and down against the burnished metal of the ship,

 

“The order still stands -” he said quietly, “you are not to approach the brig unless you are with me or O’Brien.”

 

“I understand that, and glad of it.” Soames replied humbly.

 

“That’s good.” Adam nodded, “Thank you, Doctor.”

 

Soames said nothing, but didn’t walk away immediately.  He stood close to the younger man, his own hands clasped behind his back.  Adam watched the waters, he remembered a man who had seemed good enough, a man who had saved his life and yet stolen from him, and he, Adam, had ignored the bad, chosen to see only the good.   The man had died, shot, swept down the river but before dying had raised his hand and said “Thanks for everything, friend.”

 

Now, as he thought of that man, Tom, Adam reminded himself of how easy it was to be blinded by what appeared to be good.   Particularly if one wanted to be …

 

“O’Brien and I are having dinner together tonight, Soames, why not join us there?” he murmured as he passed the man to return to his maps.  He just caught a glimpse of the look of relief on Soames face and as he leaned over to pick up the sextant he heard the doctor mumble his thanks before his feet bore him away.

 

 

Chapter 87

 

Joe hesitated at the door, looked at his father and frowned slightly before he pushed the door shut and slowly began to unbuckle his gun belt. Ben glanced up from some papers he was checking over, took one look at his son’s face and smiled,

 

“You didn’t kill him then?” he asked with his dark eyes twinkling.

 

“Who?”

 

“Your brother.   Or weren’t you able to find him?  After all the Ponderosa’s a big place.”

 

“Oh yeah,” Joe nodded, “Yeah, I found him.”  he carefully put his hat onto his peg and frowned, “Pa, have you heard of a woman called Hester Verlaine?”

 

Ben looked thoughtful, shook his head and smiled slowly,

 

“No, I haven’t.  Who is she?  The latest singer at the Sazarac?”

 

“No, Pa.”  Joe sighed and slid into the corner of the settee, began to lift his feet to put on the table and thought twice about it, “I just wondered if you had happened to meet up with a MRS Hester Verlaine.”

 

“No, Joe, I can’t say that I have.”  Ben shook his head again and rose to his feet, “Now, then, Joseph, what are your plans for your wedding to Victoria.   I’m going to write to Adam tonight and -”

 

“Do you think he gets our letters?” Joe interrupted sharply and pushed his fingers through his hair, a sure sign that he was nervous or worried about something, “We never seem to get a reply.”

 

“No, well, I’ve explained all about that before,” Ben said slowly, “Is anything wrong?  Have you changed your mind about getting married?”

 

“No -” Joe shook his head and rose to his feet, “No.” he repeated and made  his way to the stairs, “I’m just going to clean up before supper.”

 

Ben said nothing but watched with an anxious look on his face as his son mounted the stairs.   Then he shook his head, and was about to turn back to his study when the door opened and Hoss stepped into the room.

 

“Hi Pa,” Hoss grinned, compared to his brother Hoss looked positively radiant, he removed his gun belt and hat with a big smile on his face.

 

“Have a pleasant picnic?”

 

“I did, Pa, thanks.  Hop Sing did us proud.” he rubbed his hands together and sat down in the place just vacated by his brother, “Joe back yet?”

 

“Yes.” Ben nodded slowly, and looked thoughtfully at his son, “So - who was the picnic with, Hoss?”

 

“Pa - I’ll tell ya as soon as Joe gits on down here.”  Hoss rubbed his hands together again, and his smile only widened as Joe came down the stairs, “Hi, Joe.  You got your chores done okay then?”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure, I got them done.” Joe said in a non-committal tone of voice, “How’d the rest of your day go?”

 

“Better than I thought it would.” Hoss stood up proudly and thrust out his chest, “Pa. Joe. Miss Ann’s invited us all to dinner on Saturday.  She wants us all to meet her cousin.”

 

Ben and Joe looked at one another, “Her cousin?” Joe murmured slowly.

 

“Yeah, you know, Joe, her cousin, Hester.  You met her this afternoon.” Hoss prompted, and Joe stared at his brother as though he was missing something, then he looked at his father who was just looking at them both as though he wasn’t too sure which of the two he should be paying attention.

 

“You mean, Mrs Verlaine ?”

 

“Yeah, that’s right - Hester. That’s her name. Hester Verlaine.”   Hoss looked at them both and then frowned, “Anything wrong?”

 

“She’s a married woman.”  Joe replied darkly, and darted a quick look at his father, who raised his eyebrows.

 

“No, she ain’t.” Hoss dismissed the comment with a shake of the head and a sigh, “She’s a widder woman.  Her husband got killed during the Civil War.”

 

Joe stared thoughtfully at his brother and Hoss stared equally thoughtfully at his brother, then Ben stepped in between them, smiled and put an arm around both their shoulders,

 

“Well then, Saturday we had better be on our best behaviour, hadn’t we?” he said quietly and whether he had the desire to knock two heads together only he could say.

 

……………..

 

“Well, here we are -” O’Brien smiled, and glanced over at Adam, “Hawaii.”

 

“We’ll not stay over long.” Adam said as he leaned heavily against the ship’s side. “We leave before sunset.   Hathaway -” he turned to the First Mate, “make sure that every man who goes on leave is accounted for, if they’re not on board ship when we are ready to leave they’ll be left behind.  Make sure there’s plenty of fresh water and fruit taken on board ship.  Do you want to go on shore, O’Brien?”

 

“I wouldn’t mind, if I have your permission, sir?” he gave a quick salute which make Adam smile, “I’ll check in and see if there’s any mail waiting for us.”

 

“I think the men would appreciate knowing there was some mail from home for them.” Adam replied, and stepped back slightly to watch the ship as she slowed and entered the harbour.

 

In the brig Cassandra sensed the ship was slowing down, and heard the rattle of chains as the great anchor was slowly lowered.   Confined in her windowless barred room she listened intently to the sounds all around her.  Through her feet she felt the ship slowing down until she had stopped, the noise of the anchor chain ceased, feet thudded above her head on the boards that formed the upper decking.  She leaned against the bars

 

“Hey, you -”

 

The Marine at the door beyond turned to observe her, and asked her what she wanted.   He was young, but had had it drilled into him to avoid her like the plague, so he addressed her across the distance, keeping as much distance between them as possible.

 

“Where are we?  What’s happening?”

 

“We’re docking, we’re in Hawaii.  Going to take on some fresh provisions before we get on our way to America.”

 

“Tell the doctor I need to speak to him.” she lowered her voice and he called out to her to repeat the question. “I need the doctor.” she said.

 

“Sorry, Miss, but if you need to see the doctor he can’t come, the Commodore’s orders.”

 

“Then let me see the Commodore.”

 

He didn’t answer to that, but stood at attention as he watched the Commodore striding towards him.  Cassandra, hearing the familiar footsteps, clung to the bars and listened as closely as she could to what was being said, the low deep drawl of Adam’s voice seemed to permeate the walls and she barely dared to breathe in case she missed one word

 

“How’s the prisoner today, Sharp?”

 

“She says she wants the doctor, sir.”

 

“Is she ill?”

 

“She seems not, sir.”

 

“Has she eaten her meals?”

 

“Most of them, sir.”

 

There was a pause, she held her breathe, was he coming into the brig to see  her?  No, the footsteps led away and disappointed she released her grip on the bars and began to pace the floor.   She was so deep in concentration that when she looked up and saw him there, just beyond the bars, her knees went weak with shock and she drew back as though he were some apparition.

 

“Adam? I - you  here - but -”  she watched his face, the dark eyes slightly narrowed as they watched her, looked around the room, before coming to rest  upon her face.

 

“I  hear you’re ill?  What’s wrong?”

 

Without saying a word she approached the bars and thrust out her arm.  Without getting too near he stepped forward and looked down at it.  Upon the smooth white skin were  raised red spots that looked like pin pricks, in some places there was the obvious evidence of her scratching at them for the skin was red and sore. 

 

“It’s all over my body.” she said quietly. “I told you, I need the doctor.” she stretched out her hand to take hold of his but he withdrew it quickly, “Please, Adam, please - be kind to me for a moment.”

 

“They’re flea bites.” he said coldly,  “I’m sorry, Mrs Pelman, they may be unpleasant but they won’t kill  you.  I’ll get some men to come in and remove your bedding with new,” he paused and observed  her again, the clean gown, the long hair that now fell loose down her back due to the lack of a maid to help with her toilette, he muttered something that sounded like “Oh dear …” and walked away.

 

Flea bites!  She looked at her arms, at the red marks that were all over her limbs and torso.  As Adam walked through the door and heard it lock behind him he could hear her screaming, and what she called the fleas, and him, would have made any member of his crew blush for shame.

 

Chapter 88

 

Hawaii and the sun beat down upon them as they slid into their berth in the harbour.  Adam watched as O’Brien entered the skiff and the seamen bent their backs to the oars.  He leaned against the taffrail that ran the length of the bridge and smiled with satisfaction, while he looked over the decks to watch as the men went about their work.

 

Two boats had gone with crewmen from the Baltimore.  Those due leave numbered some men who had been victims of the cruelty in the Kurils and now appreciated being given precedence over others in the crew for some shore leave.  O’Brien was among them and hoping for a few hours relaxation, as well as being courier for the ship’s mail.  He looked back at the bridge and raised a hand, in time to see Adam taking off his jacket and folding it over the rail. 

 

The Islanders were not slow in taking advantage of an American ship coming into harbour.  The crew on board would be given the opportunity of some pleasures as men and women loaded themselves into their canoes and began to approach the Baltimore with the aim of selling trinkets, carvings, food in the form of fresh fruit and newly baked Hawaiin dishes, flowers in gaudy colours fashioned into lei’s and Hawaiin beverages.

 

They sang as they came near to the ship, shrill voices made melody and harmonised with deep bass tones, song intermingled with laughter which enticed the crew to look over the ship’s sides to watch the approaching flotilla.   Their gaity and song lifted the mens hearts, and on the bridge Adam smiled again, feeling more relaxed now than he had in a long time.

 

His darkly tanned shirt and black hair contrasted sharply with the whiteness of his shirt and cravat, the broad shoulders strained against the material as he leaned forwards and watched the approach of the Islanders.   He could sense the excitement rising in the blood of the crew and anticipated a rowdy few hours to come.   It did no harm, he mused, the voyage so far had been tedious and boring for them and the pleasures to come were not to last long.

 

“What’s going on?” Sharp asked the Marine who had come to relieve him.

 

“The Islanders are coming out with their stuff.  You’ll enjoy it, Sharpie, but don’t drink too much. The rum they brew here is heady stuff.” and he winked and laughed.

 

“I don’t drink rum.” Sharp replied thoughtfully.

 

“How’s the lady?”  the Marine jerked his head towards the locked door and upon receiving only a shrug of the shoulders laughed again.

 

Sharp hurried off to join with several other marines thronging over the side to get the first glimpse of the Islanders.  Dusky maidens stood up in their grass skirts offering up the lei’s and laughing

 

“Hi, Hi, American sailor, I see you …”

 

“American, you buy?”

 

“You want buy I sell - you want you have - buy cheap?”

 

Happy faces, white toothy smiles and so much noise.  Up the sides of the ship they swarmed, helping hands held theirs and hauled them aloft.   Men were garlanded with the floral tributes and hip swaying women mingled with their swarthy near naked men to ply the sailors with drink and food.  

 

Scratching furiously at her arms and feeling dejected and miserable, Cassandra heard the sounds of the Islanders, their voices and thud of their  feet were muted but nevertheless clear enough and she paused to raise her head and listen.

 

Were there an artist to paint the picture they would have delighted at the sight.  A beautiful woman dressed in a pale cream and pink gown that was soft to the curves of her body, eyes uplifted to the ceiling as though offering up prayer, an image of a woman that could well be imagined as a modern martyr about to be offered to the lions, or perhaps a modern Joan of Arc seeking divine guidance in order to route the enemy.

 

As she stood there in grave and solemn stillness, the doors to her cell opened and two seamen entered followed by one of Soames orderlies.   Without speaking to her they began to pull away the bedding, even the mattress from the bed and after bundling them up took them away.  The orderly, now alone with her, was sprinkling some kind of dust over the frame of the bed, all the while making sure not to get eye contact with her.

 

“Where are we?  Is it Hawaii?  The islands?” her voice was soft, very gentle.

 

“Yes.  But we’re only here for a few hours.  Commodore Cartwright wants us off again before sunset.”

 

“That’s a shame.  You must have liked to have gone on shore yourself?”

 

“Oh, not really.  I’ve been before, best for someone who hasn’t had the experience to go.” he turned, met her gaze and lowered his eyes.

 

As he did so the door reopened and the seamen returned, a fresh mattress, clean bedding.  The orderly pointed to the bed and the mattress was flipped down, the bedding set down upon it.

 

“There y’are, missus.  We don’t get the problem seeing how we stick to our own hammocks, but you should be alright now.”  he turned to where she had been standing but now, there was only emptiness.  Seeing her chance, Cassandra had taken hold of it, and gone.

 

………………

 

Someone grabbed at her arm and laughing swung her towards someone else, a lei was cast around her neck, and another.  A woman came, offering bracelets of coloured beads in one hand, a carving of a fertility god in another.  Cassandra pushed her away, scanned the crowd, glanced up and saw Adam standing on the bridge, his back towards her as he talked to several of the Islanders, he held a lei of red and creamy pink flowers in one hand, and as he half turned she could see the smile on his face.

 

She had reached the side of the ship now and glancing down saw the canoe just below one of the ladders.  Two children were sitting in the frail vessel, guardians of the treasures entrusted to them.  Without a thought she was over the side of the ship and struggling down the ladder, cursing as the skirt wound around her legs, trapped her feet, made her progress slow and clumsy.

 

Overhead she heard shouting intermingled with the gaity of the islanders. It all sounded very far away as she concentrated on descending down the ladder, now the canoe was far nearer, now she could see freedom within her grasp.

 

“Stop - stop or I shoot.”

 

She glanced  up, she saw the face of a young marine looking down at her, strained and wide eyed, and then another marine came and looked down, a rifle aimed down at her.  She couldn’t stop, she turned her head and saw the children staring at her, laughing, white teeth dazzled against the dusky brown skin of their faces.  She took another step, and another.

 

“I order you, stop or I shoot.”

 

Adrenalin and fear drove her onwards.  Another rung down the ladder, her hands were sweating, slipping on the metal guard of the ladder.  A shot rang out and buzzed like a bee before it hit the water. 

 

Adam was leaning against the bulwark now, he saw her, looked at the children and placed a hand against the rifle to prevent the Marine from firing again.  He took a moment to pull off his boots and then mounted onto the side of the ship and dived instantly into the water.  The canoe bobbed up and down from the waves he created in entering the water, and Cassandra, who was about to step into it, now found herself having to hold onto the ladder with one hand while struggling to reach for the canoe with the other.

 

Adam surfaced, and Cassandra on seeing him swimming towards her made another attempt to reach the boat only to find that as her fingers touched the sides so two hands gripped hold of her, pressed her hard against the ladder while a wet body pressed against hers.

 

“Mrs Pelman, you’re becoming a nuisance.” Adam hissed between his teeth as he grabbed at one rung of the ladder and held her wrist with his other hand, “Now, get back up this ladder to the deck.”

 

“And what if I don’t -” she cried, pulling as hard as she could to free herself from his grasp and the weight of his body against her.

 

“Then I’ll let you drop,” he replied, “And leave you to drown.”

 

“You wouldn’t?”

 

“You’re welcome to find out.”

 

For a moment their eyes met, their faces were inches apart and Cassandra floundered, how she longed for that moment  to last forever, how she wished that she didn’t see the disgust in his eyes, that there could be warm reconciliation and love.  Realisation dawned, she lowered her head and turned towards the ladder.

 

Each step she took was another step towards oblivion, imprisonment, loss of freedom.  She found her hand slipping on the rungs, only for his hand to replace hers and fold her fingers over them, implacable, unyielding.  When her foot caught in the hem of her skirts his hand roughly pulled her foot free and forced her foot back down upon the ladders rung.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in so low a voice that she didn’t think he would hear her, but then he murmured, “You don’t know the meaning of the word.” 

 

By the time she had reached the top and was being swung back onto the deck with the help of the marines, she felt as though she had never hated anyone as much as she hated Adam Cartwright at that moment.   She turned just as he swung himself back onto the deck and swept back his black hair, a strand of which fell across his face.  He looked at her then, dark eyes with long lashes, dark brows slightly frowning, the white shirt wet against his tanned body. She saw his lips slightly open as though to speak but before a word could be uttered she had swung the rifle around and fired.

 

 

Chapter  89

 

The impact of the bullet at such close range flung his body back against the ships bulwark, and as he slid down to the floor blood streaked like a crimson ribbon down behind him, marking his passage to the deck.

 

Davies, who had been laughing with some young woman and incongruously garlanded with a multi layer of lei’s, was the one to turn and grab at her arm, wresting the rifle from her and finding, to his surprise, that for a weak looking woman she had more strength in her than anyone could have imagined.  The rifle went off again, but the bullet passed harmlessly skywards.  The Marine who had one moment been watching Adam and Casandra’s reboarding of the ship and the next found his rifle plucked neatly from his hands stood rooted to the spot with his eyes distended, his face white and his knees weakening.

 

There was a moment when it seemed time froze, one of those moments when everyone afterwards would be able to remember exactly what they were doing and where they were standing at the moment that Adam’s body hit the deck and blood puddled upon the well scrubbed boards.   Cassandra’s screams as two Marines came and hauled her away floated high above any other sound, and was immediately followed by the loud keening cries of the native Islanders who now turned and scampered over the sides of the ship and back to their canoes.

 

O’Brien had heard the shots just as he had stepped back into his boat, a mail sack under one arm and a slight smile on his lips.  He had ordered that several men remain by the boat to return with him, promising that they would be able to go back to the island once he had been deposited on board.  Now, as he watched the ship and saw the islanders swarming down to their canoes he felt a sinking, sick feeling in the pit of his gut,

 

“Row harder, boys, put your backs into it”

 

What was it he had said to Adam only days earlier? Had it not been congratulations on coming through this ’adventure’ without mishap? What an irony if those shots signified what he dreaded most of all.  But it couldn’t be possible, not now, not here in these peaceful climes, and en route to home at last.  Surely there could be nothing that could have gone wrong.  Surely those shots could mean anything, anything -.

 

Soames had run across the deck, sick panic, guilt, fear, anger - so many emotions tumbling one after the other,  Saunders, one of the orderlies, followed behind him, a medical bag in his hands and when Soames knelt down by the Commodore’s side Saunders was already pulling open the bag and waiting to hand over the necessary implements.

 

Now men were crowding around, not a word spoken by anyone of them.  The Sergeant of Marines, J.F. Hinkley had signalled to two of the Marines to take Marine Blakeson into custody for future questioning, his apparent ineptitude being the cause of the calamity that had taken place.

 

Men stood in various attitudes of shock, men who were hardened to sea life, to seeing death take any one of them at any time, now stood with hands to mouth, or with eyes closed as they prayed, with hands clasped and wrung and when Soames signalled for help in lifting the body and carrying it to the Commodore’s quarters there was a sudden surge forwards as every man there willingly put themselves forwards to the task.

 

O’Brien stepped onto the deck as the convoy disappeared into the corridor towards Adam’s room.  The men stood about, looking anxiously at him, as though in some way his appearance on deck could improve matters.  His eyes roved from face to startled face, saw the blood and raised his eyes to the bridge …  his throat constricted and tightened, the voice in his head said ‘No, don’t let it be -’ but before he could speak Hinkley was standing in front of him, saluting and speaking, telling him what had happened, sparing no details and he heard every word but could make no sense out of them whatsoever.

 

Scattered broken flowers were strewn over the deck as the men, one and all, had pulled off the sweet smelling floral garlands, and thrown them aside.  Scarlet, pink and cream blossoms wilted in the sun, petals mingled with the blood that had splashed the sides of the ship and splattered onto the deck.

 

“It was the Commodore?” he heard himself saying and Hinkley, surprised at the question, replied,

 

“Yes, sir, that’s what I’ve been saying …”

 

He looked at the Sergeant and nodded, and then with a voice he barely knew to be his own ordered the ‘mess’ to be cleaned away, and then hurried into the direction of his commanding officer‘s cabin.

 

Cassandra Pelman sat on the edge of her bed and clasped her hands together.  Every bone in her body ached as though she had performed a marathon feat, her body shook so much that the bed was creaking beneath her, every so often she had to open her mouth wide in an attempt to drag air down into her lungs.  Breathing was a fight, what had been a natural instinctive thing was now a battle. Just to breathe … her hands were cold, her feet frozen, her head ached and was on fire, when she put her hands to her face it was burning and the ice of her fingers upon the hot flesh sent shivers down her back.

 

What had she done? Repeatedly she asked herself the same question …What had she done?  Killed a man, she told herself, killed a man.  How did she do it?  How could she have done it?  Why had that stupid Marine been so lax in allowing her to take that rifle?  What had she done?  She had killed a man, she had killed more than a man, she had killed Adam Cartwright, Commodore.

 

 

Chapter 90

 

As Joseph Cartwright pulled off his tie and rather casually flung it over to the chair his thoughts naturally trickled back to the evening he had just spent with his family, Vicky and the Canadys.  He remembered the uneasiness he had felt earlier, so much so that when he was helping Vicky into their buggy she turned to him with a slight frown on her pretty face,

 

“What’s wrong, Joe?  Are you worried about something?”

 

He had sighed, picked up an armful of her skirt which had trailed over the edge of the vehicle and tucked it in around her, then had said, as he had clambered in beside her,

 

“Oh, just Hoss.”

 

“Just Hoss?  What do you mean?  Is he ill?” she had slipped her arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder, “Don’t worry, he’ll be alright.”

 

“Yeah -” he had heaved a sigh and set the  horses trotting forward, then into a canter once they were out of town.

 

“He isn’t ill, is he?”

 

He had looked down at  her fact as it had been upturned to look at him and had kissed her, she  had looked so sweet, so concerned for that big galoot of a brother of his.

 

“Naw, he isn’t ill.”

 

Now Joe sighed and rose to his feet and walked to the window.   They had reached the Canady’s house all at the same time, but it had been Hoss who had got to the door first, and then, when it had opened and revealed the woman standing to greet them, he had turned with a smile as wide as Millers Creek and introduced her to them.

 

“Pa, Joe, Miss Vicky, this is Mrs Hester Verlaine.”

 

Joe recalled the way Ben had blinked, rather more rapidly than usual and not because of Mrs Verlaine, more because of the way Hoss had introduced her, and with such - well - what was the word?  Verve?  Gusto?   Ben had not been slow in realising what was going on, he had cast a quick glance over at Joe, raised his eyebrows and smiled slowly as he had taken hold of Mrs Verlaine’s hand, raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers.

 

Joe stood at the window of his bedroom and very slowly unbuttoned his shirt, one by one, and each time he unfastened a button he paused to dwell on something else that had happened that night.

 

Ann and Candy had been so excited at receiving them as their guests in the house that Adam had built.   They had made a grand job of it, Ann had put little female touches here and there, and that had made Joe wonder if Laura would have done the same, which had made him think of Adam, that catastrophic fall - and he had missed his introduction to Hester and had to be reintroduced, but Hester had laughed nicely and said how they had already met.  That comment had received another significant look from Ben.

 

Ann had stressed how Hester had cooked the meal, all of it.  Candy had produced wine and poured it as well as any butler could have done, and Ben had laughingly asked if it were a special occasion.

 

“No, no,” Candy had chuckled, “well, not that I know of - just good to have friends around this evening to meet Hester.” and his hand had, somehow, rested on Hoss’ shoulder and squeezed it warmly.

 

The meal had been excellent.  Vicky had relaxed and enjoyed female chatter that was of no interest whatsoever to the men, although Hoss had hung about the peripherals of their company until even he had got bored and retreated to the more familiar topics of cattle, water rights and timber.

 

Joe pulled off his shirt and tossed it along with the tie. He was about to pull off his pants when there came a knock on the door and his father entered the room,

 

“You alright, Pa?” he crooked an eyebrow, and Ben smiled, “You liked her, huh?”

 

“Mrs Verlaine?  Yes, I did.”

 

“Hoss likes her too.”

 

“Yes, he does.”

 

“She’s only been here a few weeks -”

 

“How long does it have to take, Joe?”  Ben smiled and came to stand beside his son, he put an arm around his shoulder, “Feeling protective of your brother, huh?”

 

“I’ve no right to be, after all, he’s big enough to take care of himself.” Joe grinned then, and his eyes twinkled.

 

“Well, she’s not a gold digger after his money,” Ben said quietly, “She’s got enough of her own, she’s not struggling.”

 

“Why should I think any woman who takes an interest in Hoss would be after his money?” Joe sounded peeved, and turned away from the window, leaving Ben to let his arm drop to his side.  “To be honest, Pa, I think she’d be good for Hoss.  She’s - she’s a strong woman, gone through a lot already in life - hasn’t she?” he glanced slyly over at Ben, knowing that concern for Hoss would have led his father to have a quiet little chat with either Ann or Candy about Mrs Verlaine.

 

Ben sat down.  He folded his hands together in his lap.  His mind wandered back to when he had first seen Hester Verlaine.  He had noticed the way Hoss had so exuberantly introduced the woman to them, but he had also noticed the way she had looked at him, as though proud of him, surprised by the warmth of the introduction, but genuinely proud of him.

 

He had watched her carefully during the evening and noted that she had pleasant manners, beautifully shaped hands, a wedding ring on one finger that she made no attempt to disguise.  Her face was not pretty, not beautiful, but her eyes were brilliantly blue, and her hair, the abundance of hair, gleamed like burnished copper red gold.  No, she was not one of your classical beauties, but there was strength in her features, in the strong stubborn chin, the fine high arch of a nose and those eyes … and for some reason he thought of Inger and felt a lump rise in his throat.

 

For obvious reasons he had then turned his attention to Joe’s intended wife. A pretty young woman, with an almost fragile beauty.  But she also had proved herself to be stronger in character than most would have thought, her life at home had not been easy and she had carved out a career for herself, caring for the blind as she did.  No, one could not dismiss Victoria Shannon as a giddy girl, and it was plain to see that she adored Joe. He also recalled to mind how she had made sure that the money she had found in her father’s safe, Cartwright money so far as she was concerned, had been returned to them.  That had certainly shown she had integrity and had earned his approval.

 

 

Now as he waited for Joe to speak, he turned his mind back to the conversation he had  had with Hester, outside in the garden, where he had excused himself for a few moments because being in the house  had reminded him too much of a son who was no longer with them.  She had come out with some coffee for him, and smiled at him thoughtfully as she had offered it to him,

 

“Hoss tells me that you’re a widow, Mrs Verlaine?”  he could have bitten his tongue off, an unkind introduction, impolite and discourteous, he accepted the cup and saucer and shook his head, “I’m sorry, that was very rude of me.”

 

“Not at all, Mr Cartwright.  It’s always best to get everything out in the open as soon as possible, that way, everyone knows exactly where they stand.” 

 

She had stood then, with her face towards him, and the moon had shone down and he had realised then how tall she was, that she was no slender slip of a girl, and he had smiled, thinking of a scripture that had forbidden the Israelites to yoke an oxen and an ass together, for one would be stronger than the other … not that she was an ass, and he had smiled again as he had bowed his head to drink his coffee.

 

“Hoss tells me that you had a son from each of your wives -” she said quietly, “and that your eldest son is a seaman?”

 

He was going to say Touche, but realised that she was making an observation, not an accusation.  He had nodded and spoken about his wives, but he hadn’t been able, for some reason, to talk about his son, his eldest son who was a seaman.

 

She had then told him about her husband, how short their marriage actually was, how she loved him still which was why she couldn’t remove her wedding ring, and she had looked at her hand and sighed, twisted the ring round her finger with her other hand.

 

“Some people never have the chance to be that happy, do they?” she had said quietly and taken the empty cup from him and returned to the  house.

 

Ben had been left with the feeling that he had been carefully vetted, perhaps found wanting, but he had returned home with a feeling that in those lovely hands, his son, Hoss, would be quite safe and well loved.

 

In his room Hoss had disrobed quickly and got into bed.  He lay awake staring up at the ceiling with his arms folded behind his head. He knew he wasn’t the most handsome man in the world, and to some people he was often seen as a bit of a joke, but he knew himself, he was comfortable with himself, and he knew that his heart was full of love for that woman.  He thought of her now as she had been that evening, capable and efficient, laughing, putting people at ease, and a good cook too.  Perhaps not to Hop Sings standards, but certainly a good cook.

 

He closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.  The only thing missing, he thought before sleep stole him away, was Adam not being there to share it all with them.  He had sighed at the thought and promptly gone to sleep.

 

Ben closed Joe’s door behind  him and made his way to his own room.  The sound of Hoss’ snoring drifted down the hall and Ben smiled.  Whatever concerns Hoss had felt for the evening were obviously not going to stop him from getting a good nights sleep.

 

………………..

 

Soames had succeeded in staunching the blood, and located the wound.  He was pleased to see that the bullet had passed right through Adam‘s body, which had accounted for so much blood splattering from behind him, it also meant he didn’t have to go through the lengthy and dangerous procedure of trying to locate a bullet in an area which involved various internal organs.   He was sweating, continually bringing up his arm to wipe his face on his sleeve, Saunders, standing beside him, had done his best to clean around the wound which was located in the lower abdomen.   If there had been no damage to the internal organs then the worse fear he had was that the loss of blood could induce shock and some organs would start to shut down as a result.  But if there were any damage to the internal organs then it could only mean death, and Soames, trying to see to things of such imperative importance in a claustrophobic cabin felt more than a faint flutter of fear that his attempts would not be successful.  

 

“How is he?” O’Brien asked for probably the tenth time and Soames stood up, straightened his back and glared at the Captain with a face that had lost all the colour in it.

 

“He’s alive -” he muttered, “He’s alive and there’s a pulse, it’s steady, a little too fast, but steady.”  he wiped his face again, “Captain O’Brien, do you mind leaving us?  This is a small room and too many people in it are making it even smaller.”

 

O’Brien left quickly, and hurried to the bridge of the ship where Davies was standing at the wheel just staring blankly into space.

 

“He’s not dead.” O’Brien said quickly, before Davies could ask and the big man nodded, said nothing and took a deep breath.  They stood there together on the bridge for some moments, both staring at nothing in particular while their minds went round and round the same facts, the same outcome.  Eventually O’Brien left the bridge and made his way to the brig, if nothing else, he could confront that woman, and tell her what she had done, and ask her why.   He wiped sweat from his brow as the door opened, and he stepped into the corridor and made his way to the barred off room.

 

She stood up and turned towards him, he could see her breathing quicken, and her eyes widen, and he knew that she was afraid, afraid of him?  Afraid of the news he was bringing?  He didn’t care, he just felt some measure of satisfaction at knowing that he had been able to instil that fear in her and for a moment just stood there, watching her.

Neither spoke but stood on opposite sides of the bars and stared at one another.  She, beautiful and tragic, and he, handsome and distraught.  Eventually he took a step closer

 

“You can thank whatever god you believe in that these bars are here for I swear I’d wring your neck if I had the chance -”

 

Cassandra Pelman looked down at the floor, she saw a beetle make its slow progress around the leg of the stool and for a moment watched as though by doing so she could blot out the events that had taken place earlier.  When she raised her eyes he was still there, his body tense and his breathing erratic.  He stepped closer so that now the bars touched his body and she involuntarily stepped back

 

“Why?  Why did you do it?”

 

She shook her head.  How could she answer him when she barely understood why herself.  She wrung her hands together and shook her head

 

“I don’t know.  The rifle was there, and suddenly it was in my hands and I fired - I didn’t think I’d actually shot him.”

 

“I don’t believe you.” he replied coldly and turned away, he had reached the door and rapped on it for the sentry to open it before he turned, “You haven’t even asked if he’s alive or dead …”

 

She shook her head, and watched as he stepped out of the brig and the door closed behind him, and she heard the key grate in the lock.  

 

She sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around her body.  Suddenly it seemed to her that her whole world had shrunk to the size of this one tiny cell on a ship and she was merely nothing, nothing at all.

 

Chapter 91

 

First Mate Hathaway peeled himself away from the wall upon which he had been leaning for some time and saluted as O’Brien approached the door to Adam’s compartment.  The anxiety the other man obviously felt was so close to his own feelings that O’Brien could have wept.   They both entered the cabin, receiving a dark look of disapproval from Soames who was just putting some sutures in the wound.   O’Brien looked at Adam’s face while Hathaway made the mistake of watching Soames and had to turn his head away.  Saunders leaned forward every so often to swab the area with wadding doused in iodine so that the torn flesh, swollen, bruised and bloodied, was beginning to resemble so many black spiders swimming in a pool of yellow dye.  It all looked wrong to Hathaway’s thinking, that their Commanding Officer could be lying in such a condition while that woman - he bunched his shoulders taut, and clenched his teeth - that woman was still causing trouble in the brig.

 

O’Brien glanced around the room, his nerves were on edge, he saw the mail sack where he had left it and picked it up, handed it to Hathaway

 

“Sort these out, Mr Hathaway, if you please. It’s not fair that the men be kept waiting for news of their families and friends.  It’ll give  you something to do as well, and - and keep their minds occupied on other things apart from this,” and he cleared his throat noisily, knowing that his speech was revealing too much of how he was feeling.

 

“Yes, sir,” Hathaway heaved a deep breath and glanced once more at Adam, “He seems peaceful, doesn’t he, sir?”

 

“Yes -” O’Brien glanced over at Soames who scowled, “If there’s any mail for me or the - the Commodore would you bring them here, please?”

 

Hathaway nodded, a wink they say is as good as a nod to a blind horse, but he knew better than to outstay his welcome and took the mail sack and left the room.  O’Brien stayed near the door in order not to obscure the light from the window and to allow Soames as much freedom of movement as possible.    Soames cut the thread and put the needle into a recepticle which Saunders promptly removed.  Once again he wiped his brow on the back of his sleeve, while Saunders now leaned forward to wipe around Adam’s face and neck with a wet cool cloth.

 

“Amazing -” Soames said as he doused his hands in something that smelt like alcohol, he rubbed them together and nodded over at Adam “who would have thought under that pristine white shirt there was such a battle scarred body.   See this one -” he pointed to one fading scar  “There’s a scar on his back as well which indicates that at some time or other an arrow went in and came out here - for the life of me, how does an arrow - but then perhaps - I don’t know -” he mumbled, shook his head, and O’Brien realised the man was talking rubbish merely to keep his mind focussed on his job.

 

“Have you finished now?”

 

“I’ve cleaned out the wound, done the best I can to make sure it hasn’t damaged any other organs, and I’ve sewn the edges back together - back and front!  It won’t be the tidiest of scars though -”  he glanced around as the door opened and Scott appeared, white faced, red rimmed eyes and his arms bearing a clean nightshirt, Soames nodded and pointed to a chair.

 

“Is he going to die?” Scott whispered, a sob caught at his throat which he manfully attempted to disguise with a discreet cough.

 

“Not if I can help it.” Soames growled, as he pulled out wadding and bandages from his bag, “And he’s an old war horse, by the looks of it - he’ll recover.”

 

O’Brien winced, the comment smacked a little too frivolous to him, but once again he reminded himself that a doctor’s mind worked in different furrows than minds of the normal person. He caught Scott’s eye and nodded his thanks for his help and suggested that the man made them all some good strong coffee.

 

Soames and Saunders were skilled in their profession, in no time at all the bandages were wrapped around the wadding that held the stitches and jagged wounds together,  Adam was swiftly stripped down and the nightshirt put on.  In an efficient manner Saunders had stripped away the soiled bed linen and replaced it with new.  The soiled mattress had been covered with the heavy orange/red rubber sheeting that always looked revolting and made O’Brien’s stomach turn.

 

Soames made immediately for the decanter of brandy and poured an ample amount into a glass which he tossed back in two gulps, his generosity with the Commodore’s liquor didn’t stretch to Saunders who was busy collecting up the soiled sheeting and glancing rather enviously at his superior medical officer.

 

All the hustle and bustle was over, Saunders left the room and no doubt, O’Brien thought, would grumble all the way there about the Doctors levity in helping himself to the brandy and not sharing it with others who had worked equally as hard, namely, himself.  Soames sunk down on a chair, put the glass down and buried his face in his hands,

 

“I feel so ashamed -” he whispered, “So ashamed.”

 

O’Brien had approached the bed now and was looking down at Adam, watching the even rise and fall of the sheet that covered him, at the pale immobile features.  He looked back at the Doctor with a slight frown

 

“Why?  What have you done wrong?”

 

“In trusting her - that woman.”  Soames looked quickly at O’Brien and realised that he had no idea what he was talking about, he shook his head, “I sympathised with her, tried to help - thought I was doing some good - but Adam was so hard, so cruel towards her that I thought, surely someone that beautiful doesn’t deserve this?  I tried to mediate between them but - but it all ended with this happening.”

 

“Is that why you were forbidden to see her?”

 

“Yes.  Adam felt she was going to corrupt my soul -” he laughed, a trifle bitterly, and O’Brien cast an anxious glance at the decanter of brandy and wondered just how much the Doctor had already had before he came into the room.  “I should have known better.”

 

“Yes, you should have done.”  O’Brien replied coldly, “Adam has good reason to feel the way he has about that woman, as do I.” 

 

“And - I apologise.” Soames gulped out the words and then looked over at the man on the bed, the proud profile, the dark hair that made the face seem whiter than it actually was, he sighed deeply, “I hope I have done enough, O’Brien, I prayed all through the operation, but he’s lost a lot of blood.”

 

“Well, as you said earlier, he’s an old war horse, he’ll survive.”

 

“I didn’t mean that in any derogatory sense of the words, except that the scars on his body are clear evidence that he’s a survivor, a fighter.   He’s a healthy man in all other respects and his mind is strong, he’s stubborn, proud - unless his body betrays him, or I’ve failed to notice something that should have been done - I’m sure he’ll survive.”

 

O’Brien was about to speak when the door opened and Scott entered with refreshments, it seemed odd, but O’Brien was suddenly reminded of the Cartwright’s cook, Hop Sing, and just for a moment he wanted to laugh.   Hysteria, he told himself, calm down, drink the coffee and then start praying.

 

…………………….

 

Where he was he didn’t know.  It was fathomless and devoid of light.  Words and voices floated about in his hearing but meant nothing.  A snatch of memory perhaps.  He was only aware of pain, intense pain, and weakness.  Incredible weakness.  The effort to raise an arm, to lift a finger, even to open his eyes were too much, just too much.  He didn’t want to fight, he just wanted the pain to go into the dark void that was pulling him down.

 

There was no light there, no shining stars to direct him.  All thought and sensation was ebbing away.   Perhaps, just perhaps, if he allowed the darkness to suck him down into its very depths he could be at peace.  Totally at peace.

 

 

Chapter 92

 

Hathaway knocked lightly on the door and pushed it open, paused at the entrance and glanced quickly at the bed where Adam lay with the sheet pulled up to his chest, and the sharp profile of his face clearly outlined against the pillow.  O’Brien stood up at Hathaways appearance and gave a quick bleak smile, which encouraged the other man to step into the cabin

 

“How is he?”  Hathaway whispered figeting slightly with the letters that were in his hands and which he passed quickly over to O’Brien, “These were in the mail sack for you and the Commodore.” he explained hastily, and glanced once again at the bed.

 

“Holding his own, I think -” O’Brien frowned, and passed a hand over his unshaven jaw, “Thanks for bringing these, Aaron.” he smiled again, “Did - did you get any mail from home?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Aaron Hathaway nodded, “Dr Soames isn’t looking none too positive about things, Captain.”

 

“I don’t think Dr Soames is very sure of the outcome, but I’ve known Adam Cartwright for some years now, he’ll pull through.”

 

They stood at the doorway, whispering.   It seemed to Daniel that everything was muted at that present time, even the sound of the seabirds that usually cawed raucously overhead  seemed faraway and in the distance

 

“A representative of the Hawaii’n court came earlier,” Aaron lowered his voice even more, so that Daniel had to lean forward to catch the words, “it was while the doctor was operating and I didn’t like to disturb you.   He said that they have good doctors on the island should you need them.”

 

Daniel raised his eyebrows and looked into Aaron’s eyes, then shook his head,

 

“Voodoo and witchdoctors, no, I don’t think so.”

 

“Also -” Aaron frowned, “Adam - the Commodore - ordered the ship to leave the islands before sunset.  Do you want that order to stand?  I’m presuming, of course, that you are resuming command of the Baltimore.”

 

“Temporarily -” Daniel nodded, then glanced over as a groan came from the bed and sounds of movement, he bit his bottom lip and then told Hathaway that it would be better to belay the previous order.  “I think it would be better to wait until tomorrow.”

 

“Very good.”  Aaron nodded, took a deep breath and looked as though he were about to say something, but thought better of it, he left the cabin and Daniel to resume his duties while Daniel closed the door and took his seat beside the bed.

 

………………

 

In the recesses of some dark shadows of his mind Adam could remember feeling like this once before when he was sitting on the edge of a wall, a low wall that formed part of a well.  He was sitting there facing a man who had been his friend for years, a man who had a gun levelled at him and was about to fire.  There had been the same feeling of relief and weariness and unreality then as there was now.

 

He raised a leg in order to shift and relieve the pain, but the effort was too much and created only more agony that seared through his lower body and up his back and between his shoulders until it reached his head and he thought it was going to explode.  He struggled to hold back the cry of pain but his body betrayed him and Daniel was hauled from his silent meditations by the groan of pure agony that was wrenched from  his friend.  Now Adam sighed, a deep moan of a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his lungs, his back arched and perspiration began to bead and trickle from his brow.

 

Scott, close by in his own cabin adjoining the Commodore’s, was already speeding down the corridor and across the deck for the Doctor.   As the crew on deck watched the sight of the two men striding back to the cabin they formed little groups, worried and concerned, about their officer’s well being.

 

…………………

 

Cassandra welcomed the shadows, she retreated further into them and then crept into her bed.   Not so long ago she was wishing that there was a someone in her life, a someone who would tell  her how lovely she was and reassure her of her beauty.  In her life there had always been ‘a someone’ to reassure her and that would give her confidence and the power to do whatever she willed to be done.

 

She closed her eyes and drifted into a sleep that brought her no respite from her fears and troubles.  A face from her past would loom towards her, and she would cry out in recognition, reach out vainly only to have it slip and fade away to be replaced by another, and another.

 

A man who looked at her with a twisted face, eyes begging for help, mouth twisting to one side, the noise of people all around and a Marshall saying “I think he’s dying, you’d best send for  a doctor” and she had walked away with her purse full of jewels and money and left Andre Eugene dying among strangers while she had walked to freedom.

 

“Nooo-” she groaned and twisted in the bed, pulling her covers around her to block out that twisted face of a man she had betrayed and who had died because she just kept on walking and given no help in his dying moments.

 

“No, no, go away, go away” she pushed away the face and another came with dark eyes and oily skin, and gave her papers and a smile and told her she was free to do what ever she wanted but his eyes told her something different and when Jonas Thayer had slipped out of her vision another face drifted towards her, a fat jovial sweating face of a man who had connived and thought of so many ways to destroy Grants administration and had in the end only succeeded in destroying himself.  She screamed as his leering face and fat hands reached out towards her, and she screamed again when a hand touched her shoulder and Commodore Pelman’s fat lips moved forwards to touch her cheek.

 

She was still screaming when she woke up and when she flung herself from her bed her foot rolled over the fat body of a rat which had earlier had the stupidity to climb up on her shoulder and sniff around her hair.  Falling heavily to the floor she screamed once again and crawled on all fours to the security of a corner where she huddled over into a tight ball, her arms folded around her legs and her knees drawn high to  cover her face.

 

……………….

 

Daniel leaned forward and lit a lamp, Scott put a jug of water and a glass close to Adam’s bed, and a tray of food on the table for O’Brien.  Wistfully he stayed at the bedside and looked down at the man now so well drugged that he lay perfectly still in the bed.

 

“Sir, he will recover, won’t he?”

 

O’Brien looked at him and the memory of another man who had been steward to Adam flashed into his mind, the name eluded him but the manner of his death, did not.  He forced a smile

 

“I don’t know, Scott.”

 

“He does look peaceful there though, doesn’t he, sir?”

 

“Yes. Dr Soames gave him some stronger drugs.” and he chewed on his bottom lip and thought how this was like what people call déjà vu, only last time it was Metcalfe doing the ministering, and everything had been horrifically messy. 

 

Once alone he started to eat, but found his appetite lacking and eventually put the tray away.  Soames came in and nodded over to him, and he knew it was time to leave Adam to the Doctor’s care while he went about his duties. 

 

A shuddering sigh broke through the injured man’s lips and ended in a groan.  Soames wiped away sweat with a cool cloth and felt the pulses, checked the bandages and groaned at the amount of blood that stained them.  

 

Deep in the abyss in which some part of Adam now resided there came a ship sailing towards him, sails glowing with a luminescence that was unearthly, unreal.  He was the watcher, from somewhere up on high he was seeing this ship drifting towards him through a sea of molten silver.   A man was standing at the stern,  arms folded and eyes dark as he stared about him,

 

“Who are you looking for?” he asked from on high and the man looked up,

 

“A man.” he replied

 

“A man?  What kind of man?”

 

“I’m looking for you.” came the reply and when Adam looked closer he realised he was

Looking at himself.

 

Chapter 93

 

“Over there, sir”  Myers pointed south of the harbour, “Looks like another ship -.”

 

“Yes,” O’Brien nodded slowly, “From the lights she’s showing not a very large one.”

 

“Seems to me they’ve anchored out at sea.”

 

“Best thing if unsure of the territory,” Daniel said and moved away from his position on the bridge.  “Let me know if it comes closer, see if you can find out her identity, and where she’s from.” 

 

It was dark and it seemed as though no moon was prepared to peek out tonight.  He made his way down to the lower deck and to the Commodores’ quarters and opened the door.  Soames had just changed the bandages, the soiled ones heaped untidily on the floor.

 

“How does it look?” O’Brien approached the bed and looked down at the recumbent figure, just as Soames pulled up the sheets to cover the injured mans body, “Is it healing?”

 

“Too early to say,” Soames said quietly, “I thought he would have come out of this unconscious state by now, but it won’t hurt him to be like this for a while longer I guess.”

 

“I’ve done my shift, Doctor, you can go and rest now if you wish, I’ll stay here.”

 

He unbuttoned his jacket and let it fall open as he spoke, and watched as Soames cleared away the soiled things, he paused when the doctor reached the door

 

“I hear Mrs Pelman  is having fits of hysteria.  She may need something to calm her down.”

 

Soames turned, looked thoughtfully at Daniel and then glanced quickly over at Adam

 

“I’ve been forbidden to enter the brig.”

 

“I know, I’m just telling you what I’ve heard, Doctor, you can deal with it how you think best.”

 

Daniel paced the floor for some moments, paused long enough to pour himself some brandy, and then walked to the desk upon which were several letters.   He rubbed his brow, and frowned, how could he have forgotten those, just showed, he told himself, what a state his nerves were in.  He picked them up and found several addressed to himself, one, in particular, made his heart leap into his mouth.

 

“Maria -” with that one word so much excitement welled up within him, and he quickly tore open the envelope to extract the letter within.  Then with the glass of brandy in one hand, he sat down beside the bed and carefully smoothed the letter over his knee in order to read it.

 

The lamp was too dim, so he turned up the flame, and by its light began to read:

 

“Darling Daniel

 

What a terrible time it has been here, and worse of all was not knowing where you are or how you are.  Nothing is worse than being so far away from you, my darling.

 

As you can see from the address above I am staying with friends of the Cartwrights, a couple called Frobisher.  It’s a long and complicated story, dear, and one that we can talk about sometime when we are together again.   It had something to do with the letters you gave me for Adam ,and a horrible man called Metcalfe, only he pretended he was someone else.  Anyway, that is over now, but, my dear, I have been ill and as a result our baby died.  I am sorry, more sorry than I can say, but if it had not been for the kindness of the Nuns I would have died as well.

 

It has taken a while for me to recover my strength, Daniel, and for a while I did not trust anyone enough to leave the Nuns, but the Frobishers have been exceptionally kind and since being here with them I have become much better.

 

Mr Cartwright was here on business recently and he told me that Captain Cartwright is now a Commodore, and that he has gone to Tokyo, but he has not heard anything from him in a long time.  It is worrying, Daniel, everyone being so far away from one another.

 

Hurry home, darling, hurry home, I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again and to feel your arms around me  It’s the only place on earth where I feel safe now.  How I love you,

Your everloving wife

Maria.”

 

He put down the letter and leaned back in the chair, sighed and closed his eyes.  If he could just think hard enough, perhaps he could see her face, hear her voice again in his mind. 

 

With a great effort of concentration Adam forced open his eyes.  He could see a shape close by his bed, dark and in shadow.  He closed his eyes again.  So, everything was going to be alright, Pa was there, as always, waiting for him to speak.  He released a deep sigh and a light groan, pain niggled and ate into his abdomen, he waited and tensed in order to fight it’s trickling agony through his limbs, up his back and into his head.  He clenched his teeth together and clenched his fists and then, as expected, the pain exploded and despite all his efforts he couldn’t hold back the cry of a man mortally wounded, and he arched his back, flung an arm across his chest and then fell unconscious onto the bed.

 

“I thought you had given him some medication while you were here?”

 

“I had -” Soames whispered, “but obviously not strong enough.  I thought he was too far gone to give him more.”

 

“He needs help, not hindrance, Doctor.”

 

“Don’t try telling me my job, Captain O’Brien.”

 

Daniel stepped back and waited for the Doctors ministrations to proceed, another orderly stood by with the medical bag and waited patiently, handing various items to Soames as they were requested.  Eventually the Doctor stepped away from the bed and looked at Daniel, shook his head and pulled a face that said nothing positive

 

“I’ve given him as much as I can -” he nodded over to the orderly, and they left the room with no other word than that, leaving Daniel watching the door close behind them.

 

An hour drifted by, and he had dozed in the chair.  When he woke up he found Scott had been in and left some food and drink for him, but had obviously left him to sleep on.  Adam remained as he had last seen him, the rise and fall of his chest was shallow but regular.  A slight perspiration dewed Adam’s brow and his face felt clammy to the touch of O’Briens hand.   Daniel rinsed out a cloth and carefully wiped around Adam’s face and neck, and it seemed as though there was some response for a soft sigh slipped through Adam’s lips.

 

O’Brien returned to his chair and picked  up the other letters, he had recognised Ben’s distinctive writing earlier, and for a few minutes he sat there, tapping the corner of the envelope against his knee while he wondered whether or not he should read it out to his friend or whether there would be something written down that Adam would prefer to remain private to himself and his family.

 

Taking the bull by the horns he carefully opened the letter and smoothed it out, pulled his chair closer to the lamp and cleared his throat …

 

“My son,

 

It’s quiet here now, shadows are falling across the room, and your brothers have gone to bed.  It rained earlier today so we were more than pleased to come home to see a fire in the hearth.  The flames  have died down now, the logs are falling into white ash and red embers.

 

Looking at it now reminded me of that evening when you sat on the table and stared into those flames wondering whether or not you had made the right decision about Bill Enders.  I remember watching you staring into those flames and it was as though you felt yourself to be the only person alive in that room.  Your thoughts were so deep that they had even excluded me - but then we talked and I realised that you really believed that I doubted you, along with everyone else.  But, as I say, just looking into the fire now reminded me of that time and it now makes me wonder, where are you now?  Are you well?  Are you safe?

 

The shadows are creeping more darkly into the room now, and the logs have collapsed onto themselves.  I can hear Hoss snoring already, it’s strange how it disturbs me now while I am writing this to you, yet I can shut my ears to it when I get into my bed.

 

Joe is going to be busy tomorrow, we have some new horses to break in.  He’s doing well, but he’s still too reckless for my liking.  Anyway, you know all about how I feel over Joe and his horse breaking, I’ve never liked it.  Perhaps it’s because of Marie… I don’t know, perhaps it’s because I can sense too much danger when he’s in that ring.  Candy still helps as well, he’s steadied down a lot since he and Ann married and, of course, expecting their first child.

 

I have to close this letter now as there is a chill in the air.  On Friday night there’s the Town Hall Social, and I think Joe is hoping to meet with Victoria Shannon, remember her?  Well, perhaps I’m wrong, I’m only his father, and may have misread the signs.  But - you know Joe.

 

Well, Goodnight, my son.  Sleep well. I pray each night that God keep you safe, and each morning that he blesses you and protects you.

 

Your father - with love.”

 

Daniel’s voice trailed away, and he sat with the letter in his lap, and his eyes heavy with sleep.  Adam remained as  he had been, perhaps his eyelids had fluttered, perhaps  his lips had formed some words, but Daniel hadn’t noticed as he had continued to read through the letter.  When the last word was ended and had faded into the silence of the cabin, there really was nothing more to be heard but the sound of his shallow breathing and every now and again, a deep sigh.

 

 

Chapter 94

 

Daniel woke up with a start, a shudder of shock trickled down his spine as he realised he had fallen asleep while on watch over Adam, and he turned to wards the bed, the letters he had been reading spilling from his lap,  he made a vain attempt to grab them before they reached the floor and when a hand touched his he instinctively recoiled.

 

“It’s alright, Captain, it’s only me.” Scott whispered, “I came in to see if you were alright?  Everything was so quiet.  Dr Soames has been in as well, he checked the Commodore over. He thinks there’s some improvement -” Scott smiled and nodded his head enthusiastically, which prompted Daniel to straighten himself up and look over at Adam and see if he could see this improvement for himself.

 

Certainly Adam’s breathing was less shallow, and when Daniel touched Adam’s face it was no longer clammy or sweaty.  He nodded slightly as though to himself and looked at Scott, and asked for the time.

 

“2 a.m., sir.”  Scott paused, “Would you like something hot to drink?  I could rustle you up something if you would like, sir.”

 

“No - thank you.”  Daniel took the papers from Scott’s hands and smiled, “Just get yourself some sleep, Scott, and thanks again.”

 

He settled himself back into the chair, and picked up the papers.  He read a letter addressed to himself from the Frobishers and felt that he had nothing to worry about with Maria, that she was in safe hands.  As he folded the letter back into the envelope he thought over the fact that they had lost their hoped for baby.  Despite a pang of sympathy for Maria he had to admit that time and distance had separated him from the reality of that hope for so long that its loss made no deep impression upon him.  Perhaps, when he saw Maria, he could share in the sorrow of loss then.

 

He was a deep and caring man, and a passionate one when it came to his little wife, but the loss of the child, unborn, could not impact upon him the way it would Maria, there had been just too many miles and months separating them for the hope to have even cemented itself into his heart as a reality.  He sat for a moment contemplating exactly how he felt, the letters in his hand, and a frown upon his face. 

 

The bed creaked, and Adam whispered something incoherent and confused which prompted O’Brien to turn his thoughts to his friend once more.  He listened and found that what Adam said made no sense, it was total babble, but the rinsed out the cloth and wiped around the dark face, and poured a little water through the dry lips.  Perhaps he had imagined it, but had there been a faint smile on those lips ? He sighed and sat back with the letters in his hand and opened the last one,

 

“Hi brother -” he smiled, and glanced down to the bottom for the signature, it was from Joe.  He cleared his throat and began to read aloud, leaning close to Adam so that his words could be heard by him.

 

“Hi brother

 

I finally got time out to sit down and write to you.  You know how I am with letters, Adam, thank goodness, so you won’t be too annoyed at the fact that I’ve not written to you sooner.  I noticed that Pa had written to you some days ago so thought I would dash one off as well.

 

Did Pa mention that Candy was - or rather - Ann is having a baby?  They are like two clucking mother hens, ‘Sit down, dear, here’s a cushion for your back, dear, have a rest, don’t pick that up, it’s too heavy, dear.’ and that’s just Ann!  No, seriously, they are just so happy about life, their life, being together and having a future together.

 

You sure did a generous thing letting them have that house you had built for yourself and Laura.  But they’ve made it their home now, and Ann has her little buggy, and goes visiting, and Candy puffs out his chest and acts like no one ever got married and had kids before …

 

Still, that’s how things are with them.  As for me - well, lately I’ve been thinking about things.  You know, Adam, how much I loved Little Moon?  Even writing her name here makes me stop to think about her, my heart does something odd - inside of me - .  Well, I’ve still got the flowers she gave me from her hair the last time I saw her, and the ear rings.  But, Adam, I can’t live my life loving someone who is dead, can I? I mean, I could, but I need to live my life with someone living too.

 

I think of Pa and how he loved your Ma, and Inger, and then my Ma.  He didn’t stop loving them, did he?  So, what I mean really is, that I want to fall in love and marry someone again.  I think I’ve met her too, Victoria Shannon.  She’s Caleb Shannon’s daughter and I know what you’re probably thinking, but the sins of the father ain’t those of the daughter, are they?  I sure think she’s pretty, and she’s kind and generous too.

 

Say, this letter IS long!  I’m surprised myself - bet I’ve surprised you too, huh?  Tomorrow I have more horse busting to do.  I’ve done nothing all week but break horses.  There’s some fine beasts in this batch and the last one will be the black one with the white stocking.  A real beauty.  I’ll have him broken and tamed before you get back home, you see if I don’t.   You can have him as a present from me, Adam.

 

Sure hope you’re alright, brother, I still can’t imagine you being on a ship somehow.  It worries Hoss like crazy, I see him looking at the maps and shaking his head over how much sea there is … he reckons its too easy to lose boats in so much water.

Looking forward to seeing you back home very soon

Your brother - Joseph F Cartwight”

 

Daniel cleared his throat again and smiled, “The signature’s in a big fancy flourish, Adam,” he said and carefully folded it back into the envelope.

 

A hand touched his leg and, startled. he looked over at the man in the bed.  Adam barely had his eyes open, the effort to open them further than they already were was costing him too much as it was, his mouth worked as though he was struggling to speak and then finally he managed to get the words out

 

“Tell Joe not to break in the black horse -” he whispered, “And -” but there was no more, except a sigh, and the eyes closed.

 

……………….

 

A light knock on the door and Hathaway stepped into the cabin, glanced, as usual, at the sleeping man, and then at O’Brien who had completed his ablutions and had hoped at the end of them, that he looked tolerably alert.

 

“Captain, that ship we saw last night?  They’ve berthed and a courier has arrived on deck to see you.”

 

“A courier?” O’Brien frowned, “To see me?”

 

“Well, as you’re standing in for the Commodore, sir -”

 

O’Brien nodded and followed his fellow Officer out of the cabin, passing Soames who was on his way to check on Adam.

 

The courier was a tall man, pleasant to look at but with a concerned look on his face as he turned to confront the Captain who emerged from the corridor.

 

“Jerome Atkins -” he extended his hand to O’Brien, a civilian, dressed smartly and with bright clear eyes, “I’m sorry to hear about Adam Cartwright’s injury?  Is he going to be alright?”

 

“I hope so, sir. Captain O’Brien at your service -”

 

“Yes, I know -” Atkins smiled pleasantly, “I was told you would be with the Commodore.” he placed his hand in his jacket and withdrew a heavy envelope, which he passed to O’Brien, “Mr Bingham’s compliments -”

 

“Mr Bingham?” O’Brien looked startled, “From Tokyo?”

 

“Yes.” Atkins smiled more broadly, “Managed to get a ship coming to Hawaii and leaving Tokyo not long after you left.   Had to put a bit of a rush on -” he raised his eyebrows, “Anyway, Mr Bingham felt it needed urgent attention.”

 

“Does he require a reply?”

 

“No, he never said so.”  Atkins frowned slightly, “I’ll be here for a few more days yet, business to talk over with the Government here.  If you wish to send a reply, I won’t be far away.” and he indicated the ship berthed near them, “I’d like to stop and chat, but have business to attend to.  My best wishes to the Commodore. I wish him a speedy recovery.”

 

“Thank you, Mr Atkins.”

 

“I believe you’re leaving today?” Atkins had turned, halfway to the gangway, to address O’Brien who was weighing the letter upon two fingers of his hand,

 

“Yes, we are, otherwise, sir, you would be most welcome to join us for a meal.”

 

“Mmm, would have had to decline, too much to do.” and with a merry wave of the hand Mr Atkins departed down to the walkway in the harbour.

 

O’Brien raised his eyes and met those of Hathaway, who was standing close by, together they returned to O’Brien’s cabin where he carefully opened the envelope, breaking Bingham’s seal in doing so.

 

“Adam - I have reason to believe that arriving at Washington with Mrs Pelman as originally arranged would be a dangerous procedure.  I am making no contact with anyone about this matter in order to protect yourselves, and the ship.  It has cost  a good man, Jeffrey Jamieson, his life to bring me this information.

 

My recommendation is that you take the Baltimore, and Mrs Pelman, to San Francisco, and make all necessary arrangements from there for her immediate transportation and trial.

 

Sincerely, and with best wishes”

 

The scrawl of a signature identified the writer as being Mr Bingham, and after re-reading it through O’Brien nodded slowly, and was about to speak when the door opened and Dr Soames peered in, his weary face broke into a smile,

 

“The Commodore is making good progress.  He’s conscious - and asking for you,

Captain.”

 

………………………

 

Adam’s head was raised by a number of pillows, supporting his back so that he was  almost in a sitting position.   The clean bandages contrasted greatly with the tanned skin and black hair on his chest,  the sheets covered the rest of his body, the long legs drawn  up a little towards his chest.  He seemed to be breathing normally, although every so often he would pause to gulp down a lungful of air as though it were going to be his last.

 

He greeted O’Brien with a slow rise of the hand and wan smile, the eyelids heavy over dark eyes, giving the impression that at any given moment he would fall back to sleep.  Soames closed his medical bag carefully, nodded at O’Brien who stepped back to let him pass, before stopping him as he reached the door

 

“Doctor, about Mrs Pelman -?”

 

“I’ve seen to her, Captain.  You were right she was hysterical.  She’s been given a sedative and is now sleeping.”

 

“I hope it was a strong one -” O’Brien murmured beneath his breath and approached Adam with Binghams letter in his hand, this he handed over to Adam who waved it to one side,  “It’s from Bingham.”

 

“What’s he say?” the voice was slightly slurred, but stronger than O’Brien had expected and the dark eyes showed some interest for the eyelids were lifted slightly higher, and the pulse beat more rapidly at his temples

 

“Jeffrey Jamieson’s dead -”

 

A slight constriction of the eyebrows, a tightening of the mouth.

 

“Go on -”

 

“He died getting information to Bingham - that we should avoid Washington and disembark at San Francisco instead.”

 

There was a pause for a moment and then Adam nodded, very slowly, almost as though he were afraid that his head would roll off his shoulders if he moved any faster.

 

“That make sense, and it‘ll cut down on time as well.”

 

“Do you want us to leave Hawaii now?”

 

“Yes - give the order to leave as soon as everything is ready.” he heaved in a deep breath and winced, placing a hand gingerly over the bandages

 

“Are you in much pain, do you want the doctor back?”

 

“I’m alright -” another slow smile, “O’Brien -?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Earlier on - it was dark -” a pause, the eyelids were closing down, “Were you reading something to me?”

 

“Letters from  home.  From your father and your brother, Joe.”

 

“I - I thought for a while that I was back home and it was Pa - my father - sitting there” a sigh, his head rolled back into the pillows, the eyes closed, “Joe was going horse breaking?”

 

“Yes, that’s right.  He was talking about breaking in a black horse -” O’Brien put his hand on the door handle, “You said that he wasn’t to try breaking in the black horse -?”

 

“Did I?” the eyes opened and there was a slight frown puckering the tanned brow, a very brief smile drifted over his lips, “Yes, that’s right - a memory from way back - I thought I was back home with my father and telling him not to let Joe break in the black horse. I remember now -”

 

“And did he?  I mean - did he ride that particular black horse?”

 

“Yes, of course.” a dry laugh that ended in a cough and a groan, “Of course, this is Joe we’re talking about -”

 

“Was it any good?” O’Brien opened the door, “The horse I mean -”

 

“It nearly killed him.” Adam sighed, “I’ve been wary of black horses and Joe ever since.” he managed to turn his head and look over at O’Brien, “Thanks, Daniel - for reading those letters, they took me home for a while .”

 

O’Brien nodded and gave a shy smile, then closed the door behind him.  Adam drew in his breath, groaned and raised his knees higher in an attempt to stem the pain.

 

By the time the Baltimore had turned out of the harbour and was heading for open sea, the Commodore was sleeping once more, caught up in a whirl of pain and memory, riding a black horse through the waves of a blood soaked sea.

 

Chapter 95

 

Hester Verlaine slowly brought the brush down through her hair, while at the same time looking thoughtfully into the mirror.   Every so often she would pause, lean slightly forward as though to make a closer inspection of her face, and then resumed her brushing.   After a while she began to braid her hair and fasten it carefully around her head so that the braid formed a frame for her face.

 

As she set down the brush her hand instinctively picked up the photograph on the dressing table.  This she brought up towards her so that she could take a closer look, although the subject was more than familiar to her, having been looked at more often during every day of the year that she would look at her own face in the mirror.

 

The young man in the picture stared back, a proud tilt to his head, his uniform smart and neat, his eyes dark and stern.  She recalled to mind the day he went in to have the photograph taken, it had been hot and he had gone with his cousin.  They had posed together but the photographer said it would be better to do single shots of each one of them, so they had separated and Mark had struck what he had thought was a very military pose and stared at the photographer and thought, well, who knew what his thoughts were, perhaps of how much he loved his young wife, or perhaps that he would find fame and fortune in war.

 

Now this was all she had left to remember him, apart from her wedding ring.  She looked at it and frowned slightly as she replaced the picture.   She couldn’t bear to remove it, not after so long, it was as though she were breaking faith with him.   She was still staring at it when there was a knock on the door and Ann peered into the room and came to sit beside her cousin. 

 

She put her arm around Hester and drew her close, their cheeks touched and smiling they looked into the mirror and then Ann laughed

 

“Remember how we used to do this when we were little girls, before we went to bed.  Your mama or my mama would have put our hair up in rags, and we would pull faces in the mirror and then jump into bed.”

 

“Mama always tied them too tight.” Hester sighed.

 

“My Mama always did them just perfectly,” and Ann laughed again, before her eyes looked at the picture, “Do you still miss Mark so much, Hester?”

 

Hester didn’t answer immediately.  She couldn’t really explain how she felt now.  Love, yes.  Sadness, yes again.  But it was more remote now.  The nights she dreamt about him, she would wake up depressed and sad but those occasions were very seldom now. 

 

“It’s different to how you felt when your father forced you to annul your marriage, Ann.  You knew your husband was still alive - and your search for him kept your love burning hot, didn’t it?”

 

Ann frowned now and gave a slight shrug of the shoulders, she leaned forward and picked up Marks picture and smoothed her finger down the glass.

 

“Sometimes I thought I should give up my search, and every time I thought that, something would happen to motivate me to continue on.  I don’t know if it was love or whether it was because once I set out to do something, I have to see it through to the end.  I remember once arriving in one town and thinking that Candy would never have come here, and seriously thinking of turning back and going home.    First though, I had to have a drink so I went to a small restaurant in the town and asked my usual questions - it was like reading a script - have you seen such and such a man, when, where, etcetera.   But this woman said yes, she had seen him and not so long ago.  She spoke so positively about him that I was almost jealous that she could talk about him so familiarly.  If it wasn’t for the fact that she was 50 and fat, I would have hit her.” she laughed then, her light tinkling laugh that Candy loved so much.  “But it set me off for my next leg of the journey ..”

 

They were silent for a while, each thinking their own thoughts, then Ann returned the picture of Mark to the dressing table and picked up a rose from a vase, she broke the stem and pinned it carefully onto Hester’s dress.

 

“You can’t keep the flame of love burning passionately all the time, sometimes the flame has to be turned down a little, to smoulder a while.  Otherwise it could burn out completely.” she twisted a curl of hair over Hester’s ear and smiled in approval, “And you can’t feel guilty if the flame while smouldering, is extinguished by another flame, Hester.”

 

“I don’t know what you mean?” Hester frowned, her pale skin, so common with red headed women flushed and she turned away her head.

 

“Yes, you do” Ann took hold of her cousin’s hand and pressed it close to her own heart, “My dear, if you have feelings for Hoss, don’t feel guilty about them. He’s such a good, kind man -”

 

“I know.” Hester snapped the reply back, and raised her chin, looking away from her cousin, “I don’t want - I mean -“ then she paused and lowered her head, “what if he does love me in time, Ann?   What if I find I can’t love him back?  It’s because he is so kind, good, gentle - all those things - I wouldn’t want to hurt him, it wouldn’t be fair.”

 

“Hoss Cartwright is like all the Cartwright men,” Ann said very quietly, “They always know what they want, and that includes women too.  They don’t hang around - will she, won’t she - they look, love and marry -”

 

“I hadn’t noticed.” Hester laughed, “Seeing how we have 3 men in that house, all unmarried.  I think you have your analogy a little wrong there, Ann.”

 

“Well, they would marry if the woman -” Ann paused, “the woman felt the same way, perhaps.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, Ann” Hester groaned and put her face in between her two hands and looked at her reflection again, “You make me feel like a packet of tea in the General Stores.”

 

“Well, you’re not a packet of tea, you’re my cousin, my dear Hester, and you’re off now for a lovely evening with a wonderful man.  Believe me, Hester, Hoss is just what I said - a wonderful man.  The only man alive that I know I would consider worthy of you.”  she smiled and then looked at Marks picture, “Mark would approve, you know.”

 

“Yes, I know.”  Hester whispered and slowly removed her wedding ring, looked down at it, and placed it on the ring finger of her right hand instead.

 

……………

 

“Dangblast it, Candy, why does it take women forever to git themselves ready?” Hoss mumbled as he paced the floor, twisting his hat round and round between his fingers, and getting more nervous as every minute ticked by.

 

“She’ll be down in a minute, Hoss.” Candy laughed and stretched out his legs and folded his arms behind his head, “The longer a woman takes to get ready means the more she likes the man and wants to be attractive for him.”

 

“Is that so?” Hoss frowned, women were  a total mystery to him, he eyed Candy suspiciously, and tried to think over the situations he’d been in when involved with other women, he couldn’t recall any of them taking this long before, and scowled, probably explained why he never won them over.

 

A creak on the stairs and he looked  up and his heart swelled with pride.  If a heart could swell with pride, of course, he wasn’t too sure about that as a fact, but something certainly had made his heart beat a whole lot faster -  she stood at the half landing now and smiled at him, a vision in pale ivory and green with a pretty blush pink rose pinned to her blouse.

 

“Shucks, Miss Hester, you look -” he had to take a big gulp of breath, “You look beautiful.”

 

She didn’t reply to that, but smiled and went a little pink, then came down the rest of the stairs to join him.  Candy had risen to his feet and smiled at her, given her a wink as Hoss took her hand and led her to the door, he cleared his throat,

 

“Now then, you two, don’t be late now.  I want that buggy back here before ten!”  and he smiled at their laughter before the door closed and cut off any further sound.

 

“Well?” Ann came to his side and hugged his arm close to her side, “What do you think?  Does he like her?”

 

“He’s hooked, Annie,” Candy chuckled, “What about Hester?”

 

“Well, she’s taken off her wedding ring -” and she smiled, raised her face and received his kiss with a happy feeling floating up inside of her.

 

………………….

 

Cassandra Pelman drank some water and swallowed the pills that Soames held out to  her.  She scowled and looked up at him

 

“I thought you weren’t allowed to visit me any more, Doctor.”

 

“Never mind that for the moment, Mrs Pelman, just take these pills.”

 

“Pills?” She took another and looked at it before raising her eyes to his face, “Dear Doctor, good Doctor, what exactly are these pills for?”

 

“To help you sleep, of course.” Soames replied impatiently.

 

“Perhaps I don’t want to sleep.” she shrugged her shoulders, and turned her face away from him, “Perhaps I want you to stay here, and talk to me.  Perhaps I would like you to read to me a little -” she laughed then, and reached up to pick up the bible that he had given her some time ago, “Look, you could read to me from this.   Why not?  Why not indeed, I ask myself.” and she laughed again and tossed the bible down onto the floor, and he leaned down to pick it up and hold it close to him, “Oh dear, I’m so sorry.  Dear me, I dropped it.  Dear Doctor, dear Doctor Soames … do read me something from your bible.  How about something from The Song of Solomon?  Now, why not take a few verses from there  -” she laughed, leaned forward, and blew him a kiss.

 

“Mrs Pelman, I think you should take the rest of your medication.  It’s clear that you’re far from well.”

 

“Far from well?  Ridiculous.” she stood up, swayed and sat down again upon the bed, “It’s just that this room keeps moving. Up and down, up and down.  It makes me feel sick.”

 

“Please take your medication -”

 

“Or else -?”

 

“Or else what?”

 

“You’ll tell the Captain - oh no - I mean the Commodore.” she clapped her hands, “Le Commodore … how grand!  Go away, dear Doctor, tell your Commodore that I need to see him.”

 

“You know I can’t do that,” Soames sighed and stepped forward, the pills in the palm of his hand, “You know very well why I can’t do that …”

 

“Oh - of course - now you’re going to tell me what an evil person I am and that I should hang for trying to kill your oh so wonderful Adam Cartwright.   Well, I don’t care -” she hit his hand away and the pills scattered onto the floor, “I don’t care.”

 

Soames remained silent, he turned around and left the room, the door slammed behind him and the lock turned, grinding slowly.  As he left the brig he could hear her screaming at the top of her voice

 

“I DON’T CARE …..”

 

Chapter 96

 

The buggy rolled along at a comfortable speed, and both Hoss and Hester felt little need in talking.   The air was warm and sultry, birds sang to one another or just for the sheer joy of singing, trilling and warbling as though their little lungs would burst.  A few clouds still drifted across the sky and the very lightest breeze was blowing from behind them to make the journey even more pleasant.

 

He had noticed the removal of the ring.  As he had taken her hand to help her into the buggy he had noticed the white mark that long years of wearing a ring would leave upon its removal.  He made no comment about that either, just noticed and considered its significance.  He was still considering it when she began to speak

 

“Tell me what it was like when you were little, Hoss.  Candy told me you and your father and eldest brother travelled all the way from Illinois by wagon, and he told me about how your mother died when you were so little.”

 

He frowned a little, furrows in the tanned skin, the blue eyes seeming to disappear as he crinkled up his face wondering what story she would particularly like to hear,

 

“There’s a whole heap of things I could tell you, Miss Hester.  Not that I remember as much as all that really, being so small an’ all, but things my Pa and Adam told me over and over so it sticks more in my mind, kinda.”  he cleared his throat, “It was Pa and Adam travelled with my Ma from Illinois and I was born out on the plains of Missouri. Pa always said that I didn’t like all the travelling.  When we got any place and stayed awhile in order for Pa to git more money, I’d be wanting to stay put right there, it was Adam always was glad to git moving agin.  I remember the nights in the wagon, when Adam would git inside the cot beside me and tell me stories.  I don’t reckon I ever heard the ending of any one of them as I allust used to fall asleep as soon as I knew he was there beside me.  Then, in the morning we would wake up, almost nose to nose.  Guess I can remember that more than anything else - his breath on my face, and trying to count his freckles.  Yeah, I guess I remember that most of all.”

 

“I guess you were great friends?” she looked up at his face and smiled as he glanced down at her, his blue eyes clear and gentle,

 

“Always.   He was the one taught me my first steps,  picked me up when I fell, and he taught me words and such.  Adam was always there for me when I needed him.” his voice trailed away and he turned his attention back to the road, and dragged in a sigh, except, he thought to himself, he ain’t here now, when I need him.

 

She must have realised that now was not the best time to discuss his elder brother, so after a moments silence she started speaking once again,

 

“Then your father remarried, what was she like?  Can you remember your step mother?”

 

“Marie? Sure I can.  She was the first real mother I had.  I think I fell in love with her to be honest, she was just like - well - she was a real special lady. Then of course we had Joe.” he chuckled “That changed a whole lot of things.  He was a firecracker from the moment he was born.”

 

He paused then, and hauled on the reins, looked down at the valley below them where a herd of wild horses were grazing.

 

“See there?” he pointed over to them, “That’s what I was wanting to show you.”

 

She turned her head and looked at them with slightly narrowed eyes.  There were about fifty horses, some in small groups, some standing aloof from the herd;   young horses slept as though exhausted, flat out upon the grass and their doting mothers stood in silent protection with their heads hanging , cropping the grass occasionally, but mainly very still.   Some young horses were playing chase, and she laughed softly and commented that it was like watching a kindergarten of children, and then she had to explain what a kintergarten was and he nodded, smiled and wished he could hold her hand.

 

“It’s beautiful, Hoss.  Aren’t they just the loveliest creatures?   Look at that one over there -” she pointed to a stallion, silhouetted perfectly against the blue sky as he stood in an almost regal stance above the others, his head turned towards the herd, the large black eyes watching them jealously.

 

“Yeah, he‘s the leader alright.   Joe’s been angling to catch him several times now, but he’s an intelligent beast, knows how to avoid the rope every time.”

 

“I hope he never gets caught -” she said softly, and she watched the horse carefully as it tossed its great head sending the golden mane flying as he reared back and kicked out with his forelegs, “Do you think he knows we’re watching him, Hoss?”

 

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Hoss grinned, “Adam marked him down as a horse too spirited to capture, a horse that should be allowed to stay free.”

 

“I agree with him, Hoss.   Don’t let Joe catch him, will you?”

 

She turned to him in appeal, her brilliant blue eyes dilated so that the black iris seemed to swamp the blue, and he had to choke back the lump in his throat, an emotion that he had seldom felt so forcibly.  He could feel his heart pounding beneath his shirt and decided that perhaps it would be a time to have his hands occupied so he picked up the reins again and gave a sharp flick to send the horses moving on.

 

“Tell me about yourself, Miss Hester.   About your family?”

 

Now it was her turn to wrinkle her brow, so she told him about her parents who were both now dead, about her brother, Marlowe, who was in Europe with his wife and two children, and her younger brother, Milton, who was recently married and living in the family home in New York.  The significance of her brothers name went right over Hoss’ head!

 

“That was another reason why I came out here.  Ann has been like a sister to me, so I thought I would visit her, especially as she is soon to have the baby.  Milton is a kind young man, has always been a good brother, but being newly wed he needs - and she needs - time together without a widow sister hanging around the place.”

 

She went to twist her ring then, but realised that it was gone but before she could move her hand  Hoss had taken hold of it, and held it captive within his own.  She didn’t move her away, it seemed perfectly content to remain there, resting within his, upon her lap.

 

“Can I say something, Miss Hester?” he asked suddenly, just before the ranch house loomed in front of them.

 

“Of course, Hoss .. On condition you just call me Hester.” and she laughed a little and was pleased to see him smile.

 

“I know I’ve not known you long -” he stopped there and counted back how many weeks it had been and then frowned when he realised it really wasn’t very long at all.  “Shucks, jest how long does it take for a man to know he cares a dang heap about a gal?  Fact is, Miss - I mean -  Hester, I really like you a whole lot.”

 

She nodded and looked into his face, the sincerity in the way he looked at her, the blush of his cheeks, confirmed to her that this declaration was not an easy one for him, but it was the only way he would be able to say it, and it was honest, and humble.

 

“I know, Hoss.  Thank you, I do understand.”

 

“Do you think it’s possible for a man to care about a woman in so short a time?”

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

“Do you mind that I - shucks - I sure do care about you a whole lot, Mi- Hester.”

 

“I’m glad  you do, Hoss, I sure do care a whole lot about you as well.” and she put her other hand over his, and smiled.

 

Somehow, everything went so perfectly well, no fumbling, no nonsense.  He put his arm around her shoulders, another arm around her waist and drew her towards him.  She did not resist, rather she gave herself willingly, folding her arms around him and sharing that first kiss as though nothing and no-one else existed in all their world.

 

………………….

 

O’Brien smiled, stretched out his legs and nodded in approval, then picked  up the book and resumed reading,

 

“’There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colours gay.

A curse is on her if she stay

To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be,

And so she weaveth steadily,

And little other care hath she,

The Lady of Shalott”’

 

He paused, raised his eyebrows and looked over at Adam who, propped up by pillows in the bed looked back at his friend, furrowed his brow and sighed.  O’Brien felt his throat constrict slightly as he waited for Adam to pick up the following verse, an exercise they had taken to doing as far back as their days on the Albatross.  But the Commodore was in pain, and he was tired, he had found it difficult to eat, and wished only to sleep.  His eyes, usually so dark and alert were now drained of colour, and they were sunken in their sockets making his face appear haggard and shadowed by his pain.

 

He cleared his throat and gave O’Brien a lop sided smile, raised his dark eyebrows and began to quote:

 

“And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot;
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls
Pass onward from Shalott.

Sometimes … “ he stopped, frowned and was about to speak when the door opened and Soames stepped into the room.

 

Adam glanced  up at the clock, and sighed.  Of course, time for the shifts to change.  O’Brien to resume his duties and Soames to take his place here.  He smiled and waited for the two men who mumbled their greetings, before one left and the other took over his seat, placing the heavy medical bag on the floor.

 

Soames would never admit it but he was quite jealous of the comraderie that was shared between the two Officers.  A friendship borne of hardship, tribulation and time was not easily understood by others who desired a similar recognition from the men they admired.

 

“I think,” he said in a quiet voice, Soames usually spoke in a quiet voice, Adam often had to lean forward to catch the words, “that our lady in the cells is going quietly mad.”

 

“How quietly?” Adam asked, thinking how impossible it was for Cassandra Pelman to do anything quietly.

 

“Well, not that quietly I suppose - a figure of speech.” Soames tugged at his ear and shrugged, “She screams a lot, throws things -”

 

“Sounds more like what I would expect from her.  Is she feigning or really going mad?”

 

“I don’t know.” Soames replied blankly, he shook his head, “It’s hard to know with her.”

 

Adam leaned back into the pillows and closed his eyes,

 

“Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.””

 

Soames leaned forward now to catch the words, and then slumped back into his chair.  He was not a literary man, he could not place the poem nor the poet, but he could see the significance of what Adam quoted and nodded thoughtfully in some agreement.  Adam, with a sigh, had allowed sleep to recapture him and now he drifted himself, slowly into the arms of Morpheus.

 

 

Chapter 97

 

The big room in the Ponderosa ranch house was warm and mellow, and in the evenings, with the fire burning and the lamps glowing there was always a feeling of home, of a welcome embrace.  It seemed as though the whole room was reaching out to hug the person who stepped over the threshold.  Even the old clock ticking out the hours of their lives sounded just like a heart beat which would at times hic-cough and make everyone hold their breaths - just for a second.

 

The fire light made Hester’s hair gleam every bit as much as a halo around her head, and Hoss found himself fascinated by it.  Every so often he would steal a glance over at her and then his stomach would turn over, his heart would throb and he would ask himself … ‘Did I really kiss her?  Did she really kiss me?’

 

Joe sat on the settee with his hand holding that of Victoria Shannon.  He also would every so often steal a glance over at Hester, and then at his father who was looking thoughtful and slightly preoccupied.

 

“Would you ladies mind if I smoked?” Ben asked, and smiled his charming smile.

 

Neither lady objected, so he began to pack the bowl of his pipe with tobacco and listen to them talking.  It was about horses, and Hoss was telling them how he had taken Hester to see the herd of wild horses that they had been tracking down over the past few weeks.   They had first seen them and cut them out from a larger herd months ago, when Adam had been here, and as he listened to them Ben got to thinking about his son, and wondering what Adam would be doing.  He struck a match and put it to the tobacco,

 

“My father used to smoke a pipe,” Hester said suddenly, just as there had been a lull in the talking,  “He used to be a seaman -”

 

“Really?” Ben gaped, took his pipe from his mouth and stared at her thoughtfully.

 

Joe and Hoss turned to look at her with even more interest and Victoria shrunk back a little, everyone, after all, knew all about her father, and she sighed, and perhaps her misery was picked up by Joe who turned to her and smiled, squeezed her hand, and winked.

 

“Yes, my grandfather was French, Verlaine is a French name.” Hester replied, “He was in the French navy, and sometime or other he sailed to America and liked what he saw, so he resigned from the navy and emigrated here.  My father and Ann’s father were brothers, they both went to sea for some years, but eventually my Uncle went into Banking, and my father became a lawyer.  He still enjoyed his pipe though, and had quite a collection of them, all on a rack in his study.”

 

“No wonder Ann’s father didn’t like Candy then.” Joe observed, “Being a banker he’d not have wanted his daughter mixed up with a cowboy.”

 

“Candy wasn’t always a cowboy,” Hester said quietly, and lowered her eyes as though to avoid being asked more about that subject.  “Victoria, is it right that you play the piano?”

 

“Yes, I do -”  the younger woman nodded, and smiled shyly, “Not very well.  Do you?”

 

“Not at all.  I would love to play though, would you teach me?”

 

“I would like that very much.” Victoria replied and felt herself relaxing, knowing only too well that the other woman was attempting not only to draw away attention from herself, but also to involve her more into the conversation.

 

“Hester liked the stallion, Joe.” Hoss declared just as the clock struck the hour, “She don’t reckon you should try taming it.”

 

“I agree.” Victoria said, not so much in consideration of the horse as in consideration of Joe, the thought of him being tossed about by a horse terrified her.

 

“Well, Adam felt the same way about it,” Joe replied quietly, a slight frown settled across his brow and he pushed his fingers through his hair, “It’s just such a challenge -”

 

“You don’t have to confront every horse as a challenge, Joe, you can let one or two of them just run free.” Victoria laughed.

 

“Well, guess I had better be taking Hester back home.” Hoss said getting to his feet, and he smiled over at her, “Otherwise we’ll be in trouble with Candy.”

 

“We have to get back by ten o’clock or we shall change into a pumpkin.” Hester laughed and picked up her shawl, “Good night everyone.”

 

Once the door closed behind them, Joe leaned forwards towards his father and winked,

 

“Pa, I’ve a feeling that there’s a romance blossoming there, don’t you?”

 

Ben smiled slowly, “Yes, I really do, Joe.  To be honest, I couldn’t think of anyone better than Hester Verlaine for Hoss.  Well, well …” he puffed heartily, and sent two smoke rings floating ceiling wards.

 

Joe looked at Victoria and together they rose to their feet, excused themselves and left the house to stroll in the garden; arm in arm they walked along the pathway between the roses that had been planted long ago by Marie, she leaned over and settled her head  upon Joe’s shoulder,

 

“Joe, sometimes I feel so gauche.” she sighed.

 

Joe’s head went into a bit of a spin as he tried to think of what the word could possibly mean in relation to his beloved fiancee, he stopped and turned her gently towards him,

 

“You are not at all gauche, Vicky, and if anyone says that you are, I’ll challenge them to a duel, or - or give them a good thump.”

 

“I wouldn’t want you to be involved in a duel,” Vicky laughed, “and I doubt if it would come to a good thump for anyone.  It’s not really important, just how I feel sometimes.” 

 

They walked on a little further, then sat down at a bench, he reached out a plucked a rosebud from a bush for her,

 

“Ouch, doggone, why do roses always have thorns?” he moaned as he handed her the rose with one hand but the other he put to his mouth  to draw out the thorn.

 

“Here, let me see ..”

 

“It’s too dark -”

 

“I know -”

 

He began to laugh, she giggled, and then he held her closer, so close that the little rosebud was squashed between them and if there had been a chaperone present at the time she would have blushed.

 

“Let’s get married soon” he breathed in her ear softly.

 

“Yes, Joe, yes, as soon as you wish.”   and then they melted once again into each other’s arms, whispered promises, smiled, laughed softly together, their breath mingled along with their kisses.  Overhead the stars twinkled and the earth did not stand still, it just seemed to them, that, just for a moment, it had, indeed it had.

 

……………….

 

Daniel leaned forwards towards the bed and touched Adam’s shoulder in an effort to rouse him from his dream.   He had wondered for a moment whether some fresh bout of fever had struck him, but realised that it was nothing more than a dream, a dream that was causing the Commodore some distress as he murmured beneath his breath, and once cried out, jolting awake and as quickly, succumbing back into sleep.

 

“Adam, wake up -” he whispered urgently, “Wake up.”

 

The injured man forced open his eyes and looked up at Daniel, he struggled a moment in order to gain his breath, and then coughed, shook his head,

 

“I’m sorry, Daniel, did I wake you?”

 

“You were having a bad dream.  You kept calling out in your sleep.”

 

“Yes, I’m sorry.”  Adam frowned and settled back against the pillows, “I often dream this particular dream.” he accepted a glass of water and drank some, “It’s Rostov and Lawson.  I keep dreaming about them, about having left them there in the ice and snow. It haunts me -”

 

“Why?”

 

“That I left them there, of course.  In my dreams I see them with their eyes open, frozen, staring up at the sky and accusing me -” he shook his head, “I know it isn’t logical.  In times of war … or times that we were encountering then, there really was nothing more we could have done.  But it distresses me a lot, to be honest, Daniel.”

 

“Then let me put your mind at rest, Adam,” Daniel lowered the wick in his lamp, “The Inuit guide that helped us so much, promised to see that they were properly buried.   There’s no need for you to be anxious about that matter again.  I wished you had mentioned it earlier.”

 

“Oh, I preferred not to even think about it, to be honest with you.” Adam smiled, “Thank you for putting my mind at rest.  You could have done that a bit sooner too, you know.” and he chuckled.

 

Daniel settled back into the chair, and in the near gloom of the cabin waited for Adam to fall back into sleep.   There was a slight turbulence in the sea, waves  hit against the sides of the ship and sometimes, when one wave was a little more vigorous than another, some things rattled and shook on the shelves.   He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

 

 

Chapter 98

 

Mrs Prendergast and Miss Lowe stopped talking when the little bell over the door of the General Stores tinkled and Victoria Shannon stepped inside, smiled over at them and walked towards them with the obvious intention of passing the time of day with them.   The curt nods that she was greeted with, the stern unsmiling faces and the way they turned their heads were, however, enough to make her realise that they would prefer her not to bother.  Rather confused at such a rebuff she made her way to the shelves to collect what she needed and waited at the back of the store until the bell tinkled again and she it was safe for her to approach the counter.

 

Sally Cass smiled and took the items she handed over,

 

“How are you, Vicky?”

 

“I’m alright, thank you, Sally.”  she glanced around the store and noticing that it was empty of customers leaned forwards, “Sally, have I done anything wrong?”

 

“Wrong?” Sally looked surprised, then embarrassed, “No, of course not, Vicky.” she smiled, “Don’t take any notice of those two, they’re just jealous.”

 

“Jealous?  What have they got to be jealous of?”

 

“Why, your engagement to Joseph Cartwright.”  Sally said, and put the items - two books, a yard of red silk ribbon, a thimble, and a reel of red silk thread - into a bag.

 

“But why should they be jealous?”  Victoria shook her head, paid for everything and left the store, leaving the bell tinkling behind her.

 

Several ladies nodded but averted their eyes as she passed them, one young woman with whom she had been on friendly terms walked across the road rather than speak to her, and another smiled but was ‘too busy, sorry, must dash’ to stop.

 

She was feeling decidedly miserable by the time Hester Verlaine stepped from the dressmakers and bumped into her.  They looked at each other a little startled and then laughed,

 

“Oh Hester, I am sorry -”

 

“No, no, it was my fault, I wasn’t looking.  Are you going home now?”

 

“Yes, I think I shall.”  she frowned and looked a little uncomfortable, then smiled as Hester remained standing in front of her with that kindly smile on her face, “Would you like to come back for some tea and cake?”

 

“Would you give me just a little while?”  Hester answered and after taking a peek at a list from her purse she looked up and nodded, “Just half an hour?”

 

“Good morning, Mrs Verlaine,” Mrs Snelling passed, nodded a greeting at Hester, looked severely at Victoria and barely acknowledged her, “Miss Shannon” she said rather coldly.

 

If Hester noticed she said nothing,  but Victoria walked away from the encounter feeling red in the face and certainly very uncomfortable.   She walked quickly to her home, but had to slow when several men, lounging outside the Bucket of Blood saloon, took up the sidewalk and she had to skirt around them, she heard one man laugh and another said loudly enough for her to hear

 

“She’s a clever little girl then, more like her old man than you’d think, getting her hands on a Cartwright - and his share of the Ponderosa.”

 

Was that what they thought?  She shivered, clutched at her purse and hurried along the sidewalk.  Could they really be thinking that of her?  These people in town, women she had known for so long, girls with whom she had been at school?  And the men - making her a topic of conversation in the saloons!

 

She was nearly in tears when she collided into a man who had stepped from the alley, she could feel the reek of alcohol on his breath and stepped back quickly, but not before he had grabbed at her arm and laughingly pulled her towards him in the drunken belief that he could grab a kiss from the fine lady.

 

The more she struggled to get free of him the tighter he held onto her.  He could hear the other men laughing, jeering, and that encouraged him to be bolder and he pulled her roughly into the alley, pawing at the buttons of her jacket while she pushed and fought to be free of him.   Evil smelling rank beer fumed odours from a mouth that looked like a foul pit lounged towards her and with all her force she swung an arm at him, the books in the bag hit him on the side of the head and helped in loosening his hold on her, and as she screamed and pulled away so she heard the sound of tearing and ripping, and was horrified to find that the sleeve of her jacket had been torn away and hung down her arm.

 

She shrieked again, kicked and hit out at the man whose grip on her arm seemed to be getting tighter.  Panic was overwhelming her, so much so that she was beginning to struggle to breathe, her head was spinning, her legs weakening.  She wasn’t even aware of Joe appearing, she didn’t see the flash of green jacket that seemed to fly between her and the drunkard, and by the time she had fainted Joe had sent the man sprawling backwards into the filth strewn alleyway.  Anger raged in Joe, he grabbed at the mans shirt and hauled him up, smashed his fist into his face and was about to do so again when his own wrist was seized by a firm strong grip and Hoss’ voice was saying,

 

“That’s enough, Joe.  Victoria needs your help -”

 

Joe turned, saw Victoria in Hoss’ arms, and looked up into his brothers’ face, and then together they walked the rest of the way to the Shannon’s house.  The men who had earlier been littering the sidewalk had disappeared upon Joe and Hoss’ sudden appearance.

 

When she regained consciousness Victoria burst promptly into tears, and seeing Joe sitting by her side, rubbing her cold hands between his own and his face a mask of Greek tragedy proportions, she could only weep more.

 

“Here, Vicky, drink this -” Hester was saying and placing a cup of tea on the table by her side.

 

“It’s alright, darling, it’s going to be alright,” Joe was whispering and as she continued to cry, he swept her up into his arms and held her tightly, “Hush now, it’s alright.”

 

“No, it’s not alright,” she whispered, and shook her head, “Joe, it isn’t alright.”

 

“Of course it is,” Joe replied, looking now into her face and wiping away the tears with a surprisingly clean handkerchief, “He won’t bother you again,” and his lips firmed, and eyes narrowed to signify that he would make sure of that matter.

 

“Joe, I don’t understand what’s happening in town,” she sobbed, dabbing at her face and eyes, “People have been so unfriendly -” and she told him of what had been happening all morning, and then repeated what the cowboy outside the saloon had said, “Why are they being so unkind, Joe?  Is it true?  Do they really think that what my father couldn’t get, I would by marrying you?”

 

“I don’t know what they think, darling, and I don’t care -”

 

“I care though, Joe.  I don’t want to start my married life with people pointing their fingers at me and calling me a gold digger, like my father.”

 

Joe sighed, and shook his head, he gently brushed curls of blonde hair from her face, and looked at her with so much love in his eyes that most girls would have gained some degree of comfort and strength from that alone, he bit his lips and held her hands,

 

“There was a newspaper item in the Enterprise.  It was about McGarthy and Matt Thompson.”

 

“What has that to do with me and you?”

 

“They’ve been moved from Yuma Territorial Prison to another prison.  It’s news, so it was printed, and the reason why they’re in prison is because they killed your father and tried to frame my father for the murder.   I guess it just reminded people that - that there’s a connection between Caleb and yourself.”

 

“But why should they be so unkind, Joe?”

 

“Because, sadly, small minded people often are unkind, sweetheart, by being unkind it makes them feel important.  But don’t think about them, Vicky, there’s so much more to life than small talk in a small town.  When we’re married it won’t matter, and they’ll soon forget.”

 

She shook her head slowly and dabbed at her eyes, she leaned forwards and kissed his cheek, caressed his face gently, and shook her head again,

 

“No, Joe, that’s where you’re wrong.  They won’t ever forget who I am, who my father was and what he did -.”

 

“In that case, it still won’t matter.”  Joe caught at her hand, kissed her fingers, “We’ll have one another, and my family, the Ponderosa…”

 

“No,” she shook her head again, and tears started afresh, “No, Joe, the Ponderosa isn’t the answer to everything, my dear, not now.”

 

Hester stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Joe’s shoulder, he looked up into her face and read her meaning in her eyes, so slowly withdrew from the frightened young woman on the settee and went to stand by Hoss, while Hester took her place by Victoria’s side.    She turned, smiled at them,

 

“Why don’t you two go about what you were going to do, and leave this to us -” and the meaning couldn’t have been clearer, this was female business, time for them to bail out.

 

……………………..

 

“I can’t marry Joe, Hester, with the whole town believing such lies.” she whispered as she clutched at the cup of tea.

 

“It’s not the whole town, Victoria, only a small minded minority.”

 

“That’s all it takes.  A small minded minority.” she gulped back a few sips of tea, and shivered, “Oh, I was never so frightened in my life.  That horrible , horrible man, and no one came to help me - what if Joe hadn’t come when he did?”

 

Hester snorted slightly down her nose, the contempt she felt for people at that moment of time was enough to make her inarticulate for a moment,  she just rubbed Victoria’s hands and stared at the white face with the huge frightened eyes.  

 

“You can’t let this kind of thing stop  you from marrying Joe.” she said eventually, “If you truly love him, nothing should stop you.”

 

“Surely, if I truly love him, I should do everything I can to protect him from what these people could do to him.”

 

“Don’t start make rash decisions based on what a few silly people did today.   And that man was drunk, he didn’t know who you were -”

 

“Those other men did though, they said - they accused me of being like my father, after Joe’s money.”

 

“Hush, now, come on, stop that crying and drink your tea.”  she spoke mechanically, remembering how her mother had said the same things when news about Mark had come to her, and the total devastation she had felt. 

 

Chapter 99

 

The town hall looked at its best when the town was having one of its dances.   Coloured lights festooned the building making it appear in far better condition that it really was, as they obscured the peeling paint and the rather rusty nails holding it all together.

 

Music could be heard by everyone as they made their way to the social.  Buggies and wagons and buckboards crowded the lots around the hall, and townsfolk walked to the hall along the road, chattering and laughing, the ladies in their party gowns and the men in their stiff suits, all looking very formal and uncomfortable.

 

Trestle tables groaned with food and drink was plentiful.   The doors were opened wide to let the warm evening air freshen the rather hot and sticky air inside the building, and the breeze made the streamers and banners rustle and flutter in the roof space.  The band comprised of a banjo, guitar, piano, two fiddles and a double bass player.  They were the regular musicians at such occasions and knew all the tunes inside and out.  The ‘Caller’ for the dances was Amos Huggins who hailed from Kentucky and really got into the swing of things because he reckoned there was nothing better than to see those ladies petticoats going a -swishing in the air.

 

It went without saying that Victoria dreaded the occasion since the problems arose in town, but Joe had assured her that she had nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t leave her side and Hester and Hoss would be close by.  It was now taken as an agreement in the family that Hester and Hoss were - good friends.

 

When the Cartwrights arrived the music didn’t stop and the dancing continued, but there was a definite hiatus as people turned to observe them.  Ben strode in, looking handsome in his suit and grey silk vest, there were quite a few widows and single ladies who thought him to be not only a good catch but a very good looking one as well.  Behind him came Hoss and Hester.  Although they were not arm in arm, nor even holding hands, the fact that she was with the Cartwrights prompted heads to incline together, and ladies to whisper and dart thoughtful and curious glances at them.  Then came Joe and Victoria, who stood hesitantly at the doorway before following Ben to the table where the punch bowl resided.  

 

“Good evening, Mrs Prendergast,” Joe stopped where Mr and Mrs Prendergast were sitting, and he bowed his head towards the lady and smiled at her husband, “Mrs Prendergast, I believe you know my fiancee, Victoria?”

 

“Why, yes, of course -” Mrs Predergast fluttered and a smile was offered the younger woman, although it didn’t reach her eyes, “How are you, Victoria?  I hear you had a bad experience the other day?”

 

“Just one among several,” Victoria answered without returning the smile, “Hello, Mr Prendergast, how is your foot now?  Is the gout still painful?”

 

“It sure is, Miss Vicky, good to see you here this evening.  How’s things, Joe? Heard from that brother of yours lately?”

 

They drifted on, circulating the room, stopping to talk to every person who had snubbed Vicky in town, Joe’s mouth ached with the false smiles he plastered onto his face, and his eyes were as hard as stones.   Vicky, by the time they arrived at Ben’s side, felt more in need of a glass of punch than at any time in her life, her legs were shaking, and Joe folded a hand over hers affectionately and smiled at her, leaned over to kiss her cheek,

 

“You see, just face them down, they’re just bullies out to make you miserable, but face them and they soon back down.”

 

She smiled and said nothing to that, she didn’t like to remind him that she didn’t have his courage and ability to bounce back, having lived with one bully had been enough to intimidate her for life.  Ben smiled and passed a glass of punch over to her,

 

“Here, drink this, Vicky, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

 

Ben could feel her fingers shaking as she accepted the glass from him, and he wondered for a moment if perhaps she was really going to be able to handle being Joe’s wife.  He turned away from the couple and looked at the dancing, and smiled as he watched Hester and Hoss laughing their way through one of the dances.  It occurred to him then that he had not seen Hoss was relaxed with a woman for many years, and that Hester Verlaine was already doing his son a whole lot of good.

 

“Who is that woman?”  Old Mrs Smeaton asked her daughter.

 

“Which woman?”

 

“The one dancing with Hoss Cartwright.”

 

“That’s Ann Canady’s cousin, she’s a widow, comes from New York, I’m told.”

 

“New York, huh?” Mrs Smeaton sniffed, as far as she was concerned nothing good came out of New York.

 

………………….

 

Adam leaned against the window and watched the sea.  He stood with his shirt loose, hanging over his pants, unbuttoned.  His wound was healing slowly and he could feel less pain, but staying in the bed, in the cabin, was beginning to make him feel like a man in prison.  He knew there was a word to describe it, but couldn’t be bothered to rack his brains to find what it was.   The window was just slightly ajar and he could smell the freshness of the sea, taste the salt, and feel the energizing power of the clean air as it drifted into the room.

 

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” Soames reproving voice came from behind him, and he closed the door.

 

“I couldn’t stand another moment in it,” Adam replied without turning around but still looking at the sea.  “I wanted to get to the desk so that I could write some letters, but then realised I wouldn’t be able to get there without falling down.” he grimaced, a wry downward turn of the mouth.

 

“I’m not surprised, here take my arm -” Soames came forward and offered his arm which Adam accepted, and allowed the doctor to help  him to a chair by the desk.  “Don’t do too much too soon, Adam.”

 

“Ah, now you sound like an old friend of mine,” Adam smiled, and opened a drawer to pull out writing paper and pen, “Paul Martin, the town doctor.  I suppose  you’ve come to give me some more medication?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Adam nodded, accepted the dose manfully and then picked  up his pen and dipped it into the inkwell, he looked down at the paper before looking back up at the doctor,

 

“So how is Mrs Pelman?”

 

“Saunders tells me that she’s very unwell.” Soames replied, skirting around the fact that he had been in to see to her several times himself.

 

“Really?  And you’ve not checked to find out for yourself?”

 

“If you recall rightly, Adam -”

 

“I recall perfectly, Doctor.  If you remember the circumstances I had every right to do so at the time.”

 

“Am I to take it that your orders have changed now?”

 

“Soames, for goodness sake,” Adam passed his hand across his face, and shook his head, “I have to get Mrs Pelman safely to America in order to stand trial.   Now go and check on her, and come back with a report when you’re done.”

 

Soames nodded, stood up  and left the cabin before Adam could change his mind, leaving the Commodore looking thoughtfully at the empty chair, then, with a sigh he recommenced his letter, noting with a slight surprise, how long ago it had been since he had written the last sentence.

 

…………………

 

 

Hester grabbed at Vicky’s hand, she was breathless and hot, and her hair had began to unravel, and she whispered to Vicky that she really did need to get out to cool down. Together, and arm in arm, the two young women left the hall and sauntered out to the yard.  It was much cooler now, and once seated Hester asked Vicky to see if she could deal with the back of her hair,

 

“Just stick a few pins in for me, would you?”

 

“There now,” Vicky curled some strands of hair and pinned them securely into Hester’s the rest of the curls, they both laughed when a pin went beyond the curls and into the scalp, “They were talking about you in there-” she said quietly once the job was completed and Hester, patting a few stray bits into place, turned round,

 

“Who?”

 

“Some of the women in there.”

 

“Oh.” Hester pulled a face, and shrugged.

 

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

 

“No.   Why should it?  Although I supposes it does depend on what they were saying.  Hopefully it wasn’t anything unpleasant or unkind.” she looked thoughtfully at the other girl, “Did it bother you?”

 

“No, I mean, I don’t know -”

 

“People gossip.  That’s what people do, Vicky.  They see a stranger sauntering into the town hall with one of the Cartwrights and want to know all about her.  It’s only natural.  In New York Society it is just the same … no doubt I would be saying ‘Look at that hussy dancing with Hoss Cartwright and she’s only been here five minutes!’” and she laughed softly,  “In a short while they will talk about someone else, until it’s my turn again.  Life is too short to worry about it.”

 

“That’s because you don’t come from here, and they don’t know every bit of your history.”  Vicky plucked at the ribbons on her skirt, and was about to say more when the sound of male voices were heard coming from close by, being seated in the shadows close to the building it was not easy for anyone beyond the shadows to see them, but the two women could clearly distinguish Joe with several other young men.

 

Vicky was about to call out to him, but it was Hester who pulled at her hand and made her stay in her seat, realising from the tone of the mens voices that now was not the time for her young friend to be getting involved.

 

“Look, Joe, I’m not saying this out of spite, you know -” Jonathan Wilson said with a scowl on his face, he put out a hand to rest on Joe’s arm, as though to confirm that he meant well, but Joe pulled his arm away, “For Pete’s sake, why do you have to be so stubborn?”

 

“It’s not a case of being stubborn, Jon, more a case of plain not liking what you’re saying.”

 

“Jon doesn’t mean no harm, Joe.” Mark Wilson, Jon’s brother spoke up, his voice kindly, “Look, we’ve been friends for a long time, why can’t you just accept what we’re telling you as a friendly piece of advice.”

 

“I don’t see what you’re saying as being friendly or advice.” Joe’s voice trembled, and upon hearing it Hester rose to her feet and pulled at Victoria’s hand so that they could slip, unnoticed, back into the hall where she intended to get Hoss to go out and check that matters didn’t spiral out of control.  “Vicky -”

 

“Victoria Shannon is her father’s daughter, Joe;  just think back awhile and remember this, you nearly lost everything, the Ponderosa, everything your Pa slaved for all those years, nearly gone just like that -” Mark clicked his fingers, and in the shadows the girls froze, pressing their backs against the walls in order not to be seen.

 

“Yeah, and your family weren’t the only ones he was fleecing, shucks, Joe, if’n McGarthy hadn’t got Shannon killed your fiancee’s pa would be in prison himself by now.”

 

Vicky pressed her fingers to her mouth to suppress a sob, while in the yard Joe grabbed at Jon’s jacket and swung a fist which collided hard against the other mans jaw. Pulling at Victoria’s hand Hester made for the hall, but even before they reached the door Hoss and Candy were already coming out,

 

“Hoss, over there -” she squealed grabbing at his arm and pointing in the direction of the tussle that had become a full fledged fight, and leaving it to the two men she hurried Victoria into the hall, and round to the back where the other rooms were located.

 

“Vicky, look at me -”she pushed Vicky down into a chair and leaned towards her, “Please.”

 

“I - I want to go home, Hester, please let me go home.”

 

“No, not like this, Vicky, not while you‘re upset like this.” she pulled out a lace trimmed piece of handkerchief and dabbed at the other girls eyes, “Don’t let Joe see you like this, dear, he loves you so much.”

 

“I know he does, and it isn’t fair, Hester.  I love him, but I don’t know if I’m really the kind of person he should marry.  My father’s ruined my life, as a child, as a woman.  I won’t ever be able to get away from him.  What he’s done, what he’s been will follow me wherever I go.”

 

“Then, dear, why go anywhere?  Just stay here, marry Joe, and settle down. In time this will all blow over.”

 

“No, it won’t -”

 

Hester sighed, she crouched down and looked up at the other girls face, then took her two hands in her own and held them tightly,

 

“Victoria, everything blows over in time.  Don’t break Joe’s heart just because of this.  Prove to these people that you are - not only your father’s daughter, but also your mothers.  She was a wonderful woman, wasn’t she?”

 

“Yes, but that’s not the point -”

 

“It is so,” Hester dabbed at the tears again, “I know you could easily leave here, and get your teaching position back at the blind school, but you would never easily be able to forget Joe, would you?  You would never be happy anywhere else, you know?”

 

“I don’t know - not anymore.”  Victoria whispered, “Those two men went to school with us, with Joe and I, they’d been friends for years and if that’s what they say about me, what do others say?  Joe could get to hate me after a while, and -”

 

They turned at the sound of someone breathing hard behind them, and Hester stepped back as Joe came, stepped forward and took Victoria into his arms,

 

“No, Vicky, no, I would never grow to hate you, never in a thousand years. I love you too much.” and he held her close, and kissed her damp cheeks and held her hands in both of his own.

 

Hester stepped away, looked at Hoss, and together they slipped out  and back into the hall to join with the dancing and laughing and chattering, neither of them spoke a word, but both of them were thinking more of the young couple in the back room than the steps of the dance into which they had been whirled

 …………. 

 

Soames looked at the woman huddled in the corner of the cell, and wondered how it was possible for the beautiful woman who had stepped on board ship to have become the wretched shadow of her self that she was now. 

 

Food was strewn across the floor, her clothing was filthy, stained not only with the detritus of food but with other natural elements that indicated that she either no longer had control over her bodily functions or she just didn’t care any longer.   Her hair was a tangled mass, some of which  seemed to stand on end like some great bush, while the rest fell over her face.

 

He walked towards her, being careful where he put his feet as he did so,

 

“Mrs Pelman -”  he whispered gently, “It’s I, the doctor.”

 

She didn’t move, except to hug her arms more tightly around her legs,

 

“Mrs Pelman, I’ve come to give you something that will help you sleep.”

 

“I don’t want to sleep -” her voice was ragged, she did not look up.

 

“If you get some sleep it will help you feel much better.”

 

“They come to me in my sleep.  Pelman - Eugene - that ghastly ghastly man Jonas Thayer -  I want my brother.  Please.  Please find Jeffrey?  Where’s Jeffrey? I want my brother.” her voice broke on a sob, then she raised her head, and her eyes fixed upon his face, and she smiled “Mrs Pelman met a doctor

                    Going to the fair

                    Here’s a pill

                    In case you’re ill” and she laughed, laughed shrilly, and rocked back and forth, back and forth, “What comes next then?  What comes next?  Jeffrey can tell you.  He’s the doctor.  Take a pill to make you ill .. Make you ill …” and the laughter came again, then caught on a sob, “He’s the doctor,  Jeffrey, gives me pills.”

 

She bowed her head and her voice trickled into silence, although several sobs shook her shoulders and Soames, tempted to put out his hand to comfort her, had to force himself to step back and away from her.  He closed the bars behind him quietly and turned to look at her just before he reached the door to the brig, but she was still rocking back and forth, in the corner of the room.

 

Chapter 99

 

Adam looked  up as the door opened and with a slight frown, he put the pen down, wondering as he did so whether he would ever get to finish the letter  before arriving in San Francisco. Leaning back against the chair he looked at the Doctor with raised eyebrows, and waited for the man to sink into the chair opposite and speak.  Soames said nothing, and it was only when Adam prompted him by saying “Well?” that he eventually sighed and looked up to face his Commanding Officer

 

“I - I think she’s gone mad.”

 

“You mean really mad?  Not acting at all?”

 

“Yes, really mad.”  Soames shook his head and rubbed his brow in perplexity, “I didn’t realise she was so close to the brink, but she’s well and truly gone over the edge now.”

 

Adam eased his long legs away from the desk and rose to his feet, paused a moment to make sure he had the strength in his legs to walk, and did so, going to the closet and taking out his jacket which he shrugged himself into, Soames watched with some alarm and then stood up, put out a restraining hand

 

“No, you can’t go out there, Adam, you’re still too weak.”

 

“I’ll lean upon your arm then, if you wouldn’t mind?” he smiled his most charming smile, and raised an eyebrow, slowly buttoning up his jacket and then running his fingers through his hair, he frowned, “She’s my responsibility, Soames, I wouldn’t want to feel that it is due to my negligence that she has got into this situation.”

 

“For goodness sake, man, you’ve been ill  yourself, thanks to her -”

 

“That bears heavily on my mind,” Adam replied his smile widening, “shot in action is one thing, but shot by a woman on my own deck -” he shook his head and turned towards the door, “Your arm, Doctor, if you don’t mind?”

 

………………

 

Cassandra was sitting cross legged on the floor now, and had taken time to braid her hair.  To say Adam was shocked at the sight of her was a slight understatement, he paused in his stride and stared at her in both dismay and sympathy, before urging Soames to help him towards the barred door.

 

She had her eyes shut, firmly shut, and her hands over her ears.  A strange humming noise came from her mouth, and she rocked back and forth slowly.  Adam’s dark eyes looked at her from head to foot, took in the soiled chemise that she wore, the food and excrement on the floor, the dirt on her face. He could see that her hands were equally as dirty, her nails broken and the dark stain of something or other under the remains of them. He sighed and looked at Soames thoughtfully, then back at Cassandra.

 

“I know you’re there,” she said suddenly, before he could speak, “I recognised your footsteps.  I listen for them every day, but it’s been a long time since you came to see me.”

 

“I’ve been unwell, Cassandra.” he said quietly and his deep voice trembled slightly, the pity he felt for her affected even his tone of voice and detecting it she looked  up, opened her eyes and stared at him.

 

“Unwell?” she said softly, “Sick and ill?”

 

“You look unwell, Cassandra.  Don’t you like the food they give  you, is that it?”

 

“Food?” she frowned, and glanced down on the floor, “Did you know that when the peasants revolted in Paris Queen Marie Antoinette said ‘Let them eat cake.’  Personally I don’t believe that, I don’t think she did … she liked cake, you know, she would have wanted them to have had something nice to eat as well. Yes - “ she paused and frowned, “Cake.  Let’s bake a cake?”  she clapped her hands together and smiled, her face immediately looking impish, childish and innocent.

 

“Cassandra - do you remember why you’re here?”

 

“Here?” she frowned, looked up at the ceiling and looked thoughtful, “I hear people’s footsteps overhead all the time. Bang, bang, bang .. No thought of people who live beneath them.” 

 

“Do you know who I am, Cassandra?”

 

She drew nearer and involuntarily he stepped back, the smell of her was pungent, and he coughed and put a hand to his mouth and nose;  she came and leaned her brow against the bars pressing her face against them and staring at him,

 

“Yes, I know who you are.” she nodded, “Where’s Jeffrey?”

 

“Who am I?”

 

She stared, licked her lips and looked thoughtful,

 

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can,

Pat it and prick it and mark it with C

Put it in the oven for Cassandra and me.”

 

Soames pulled gently on Adam’s arm, and having gained his attention indicated that they should leave;  Adam raised a hand in a gesture indicating ‘not yet’ and stepped forward a little closer

 

“Tell me what your name is?” he asked softly, and his dark eyes stared into hers, and she looked away, down at the floor

 

“Oh my, what big feet you’ve got, Mr Wolf.” and she laughed, her hands came  up and gripped the bars, both men instinctively stepped back, as though well aware that an unpredictable woman could well lash out at those she perceived to be invading her territory.  Cassandra shook the bars,  and her face fell, became plaintive, tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks, forming pale runnels through the dirt

 

“Let me out of here, please let me out of here.” she whispered with a sob in her voice and she thrust out one hand, her fingers just brushing the lapel of Adam’s jacket, “I don’t like it here, it’s cold and dark and the floor is never still, it moves.”

 

He wanted to tell her it was because she was on a ship, but the smell and the sound of her was taking its toll on his exhausted reserves of emotional as well as physical strengths, he turned and with Soames to support him, walked away from her.

 

“Don’t leave me, I don’t like it here, please let me out?”  her voice trailed behind them and he turned to look back at her, at the thin wasted figure in the stained chemise and braided greasy lank hair, “Let me out, please, pretty please?”

 

……………….

 

O’Brien was in the cabin when Soames and Adam returned.  He looked from one to the other of them with a frown,

 

“Where’ve  you been?” he sniffed, “You smell awful.”

 

“She’s mad, didn’t I tell you so?” Soames cried as Adam slowly took off his jacket and threw it across the back of the chair.

 

Adam said nothing, he sunk down in the more comfortable chair and asked O’Brien to pour out something to drink for them all, then he put a hand to his brow, and closed his eyes.  When O’Brien gave him the glass he took it like a man roused from a dream, then looked at Soames

 

“Tonight, when it’s dark, take her and get her bathed.  Find some clean clothes for her to wear, and get some men to clean that cell.  She should never have been allowed to get to that condition, I wouldn’t leave my horse to get into a mess like that -”

 

“What? Who do you mean?” O’Brien demanded looking from one to the other of them, and Soames mouthed silently “Mrs Pelman.”  “Oh, Mrs Pelman, I had heard that she was crazy.” he chewed on his bottom lip, and looked at Soames.

 

“Well, crazy or not, she deserves better than that -” Adam replied and looked at Soames, “Make sure you do as I say.”

 

When the cabin was empty and Adam alone once again, he lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling and thought of Cassandra Pelman.   He thought of her eyes and how they had stared into his own, wild eyes, the pupils of them so large that it was almost impossible to see the colour of them.  He shivered at the memory of the stench from the cell, and guilt brought along with it a sense of shame.  No man had a right to degrade a woman to such depths, he thought, and he covered his eyes with his fingers to try and shut the image of the woman from his mind.

 

 

Chapter 100

 

Soames was more than pleased with the system he had rigged up for Cassandra’s bath. He had been rather irritated by Adam’s suggestion that he, the Doctor, should supervise such a proceeding, but then realised that in all honesty there was no one else to whom the task could have been allocated.

 

The crew were all rather intrigued by the cloak and dagger methods that the doctor undertook to deprive them of a peek show.  There were a few grumbles and elbows nudged in ribs, and the men who had quite eagerly volunteered for various tasks in the proceedings soon regretted it.  There were elbows dug into ribs and sly winks and cackles as these men went with brooms, buckets of water and clothes to clean out the cell, followed by Saunders with clean bed linen.   When the bath, which was really no more than the largest barrel in the stores, was trundled down the crew were quietly impressed and crowded round the door rather, craning their necks to see as much as they could hope to see, but promptly pushed aside by several orderlies who bustled down to the brig  with various poles, sheets and buckets of hot water.

 

It seemed that most curious of all was Cassandra herself.  She stood in one corner of the cell and watched everything happening around her with round eyes, pulling at her hair and constantly scratching at her arms.   When any man approached near her she would cringe against the wall and wail until they were gone.  When Soames came to her she stared at him blankly and scowled,

 

“Who are you?”

 

“I’m Soames, the doctor.  Are you going to come along with me?” he smiled, hopefully a pleasant smile, one that would tempt her to go along with him.

 

“No, I want to stay here.  I itch. Why do I itch so much?”

 

“It’s because you’re dirty and need a bath.  Would you like a nice clean bath, my dear?”

 

She scowled more ferociously at him than ever at this patronising tone of voice, and for a moment he imagined that he saw a hint of the old Cassandra flash before him, her lips had tightened and the eyes had hardened and the head tilted in an arrogant manner.

 

“Where’s my brother?  He’s the Doctor, not  you.”

 

“If he were here he would want you to have a bath, so why not come with me and see for yourself what we have for you down the corridor.”

 

“Is Jeffrey there?”

 

“Come and see …” he held out his hand but she didn’t touch him, instead she clutched her hands tightly together against her chest and followed him in a cautious fearful manner out of the cell and into the corridor.

 

Halfway down there were sheets hanging from a pole, and he led her to this, parted one and indicated that she stepped through to her ’bath’.   He had remembered reading how Catholic Nuns bathed with their chemises on, as it was forbidden to remove their garments in case the sight of their own nakedness would inflame wrong and unclean thoughts in their heads, so with this in mind he thrust a bar of soap into her hands and hoped that she would have enough sense to know what to do with it.  After which he dropped the ‘curtain’.

 

He could hear her stepping into the water, her sighs of pleasure and the slap of water sloshing over the sides, soon apparent by the amount of water that trickled from beneath the curtain over the floor towards him.  After sufficient time had elapsed he thrust his arm through the opening between the curtains bearing a clean garment, this was snatched immediately from his grasp.

 

Cassandra Pelman had surveyed the bath, or rather the barrel, with some disdain.  She sniffed at the soap and was surprised to find that it was in fact an expensive perfumed piece of soap, a familiar smell as it had been taken from her belongings some while previously.   She had stepped into the water rather carefully and relaxed into it.  Not being a Catholic Nun she stripped off her soiled garment immediately and set to work on cleaning herself.

 

As she  washed her body and her hair Cassandra thought of her options now.  The fact that Adam had shown her some compassion, even some sympathy in providing this bath indicated to her a weakening in his disposition towards her.  As she lathered the soap on her arms and around her neck and body she remembered how he had looked at her, and the memory of that look brought a wider smile of satisfaction to her face.

 

So, by playing the mad woman, humiliating herself to the degree that she had, by soiling herself, well, that had appeared to work to some degree.   She began to rub the soap into her hair, and then sunk down deeper into the barrel to rinse it out, before re-emerging with a triumphant gasp.  Yes, a mad woman, someone he would see as vulnerable and who would need to be  protected.   At the same time it would make him feel guilty, anxious - it would prompt him to come again, and again - just to make sure of her welfare in the future.

 

She stepped out of the bath and dried herself slowly, making the most of this time of sanity, this time of knowing she was unobserved and could think freely her own thoughts about how to proceed further in entangling Commodore Adam Cartwright into her life.

 

………..

 

Adam allowed himself the luxury of a light groan as he settled back onto the bed.   His wounds pained him, and his weakness alarmed him.  When Scott came to shake his arm he was amazed to find that he had fallen asleep, and that from the time he had slowly lowered himself back onto the bed and Scott’s awakening him over an hour had actually passed.   He rubbed his face with one hand and placed his other hand across his stomach where the pain hurt most.  He sat up slowly and looked at Scott

 

“What’s the matter?  Has something happened?”

 

“Not at all, sir. I’ve brought you some beef broth.”

 

He nodded and watched his steward set everything out very neatly on the tray, he took a deep breath and the pain trickled up his back and across his groin, he tried to suppress a moan but it slipped through his lips, and when Scott turned to observe him, he was biting down on his lips and had his eyes closed tightly in an attempt to stem the pain.

 

“I’ll get the Doctor -”

 

“No, it’ll pass.” Adam shook his head, brushed the suggestion aside, “It’s alright, Scott, I do know what I’m talking about.  Where is the Doctor by the way?”

 

“Er - giving the lady a bath.”

 

Adam repeated the words soundlessly, his lips moved but no sound passed through them.

 

“Your orders, sir.  You told him to make sure she had a bath because she stunk.”

 

“Yes, of course, I remember -”  he rolled his eyes comically and then picked  up a chunk of freshly made bread, he raised it to his nose and smelt it, it didn’t compare to Hop Sings, fresh from the oven, but it still smelt good, he tore some off and dipped it into the broth.

 

“Where’s Captain O’Brien?”

 

“On the bridge, sir.”  Scott smiled, “We should be in San Francisco in a few days time, sir.”

 

……………..

 

 

Chapter 101

 

“Excuse me -” Soames entered and smiled, he nodded to Daniel and approached the Commodore’s desk, “Just to let you know that the mission has been accomplished.  Mrs Pelman survived her bath.”

 

Adam raised his eyebrows, his face went blank and then he nodded and winked over at Daniel, while his face softened into a smile, the dimples in his cheeks were deep as he looked up at the Doctor and lounged back into his chair,

 

“And how did the lady respond?”

 

“The lady responded very well.” Soames replied, “To be honest, I’m quite pleased with the whole thing.”

 

The other two men looked at one another, raised their eyebrows and didn’t dare to surmise exactly what it was that could have made the Doctor so happy, so they patiently listened to his explanation of his modesty curtains and how things had proceeded very well judging by the great disappointment of any crew member that happened to be in a position to see what was happening.  Both Adam and Daniel began to laugh then, at themselves for their misjudgement of the wretched Soames, and at the situation in general.  Soames laughed along with them, although he wasn’t sure exactly why.

 

“Tell me, then, Doctor, how is her ladyship now?   Has she calmed down any?   Eaten the soap? Thrown the water over the orderlies?” Adam chuckled.

 

“Goodness me no,” Soames replied rather primly, “She left the area and returned to her cell very calmly, very quietly.   I left her combing her hair.”

 

“Well, it’s approaching time for her mid day meal, perhaps she’ll revert to type then,” Daniel muttered, tapping his fingers against his knee and wishing the doctor to leave so that he could discuss more serious matters with Adam.

 

“That’s a question and a half,” Adam murmured in a slow deep drawl of a voice, “Just exactly what type will she revert to, one wonders?”  he sighed, and nodded over to Soames, “Thank you, Soames, let me know what happens, won’t you?”

 

The Doctor nodded, glanced at the two men and felt excluded once again for their friendship, without a word he left the cabin.  For a moment Adam’s eyes stayed fixed on the door as though his thoughts had followed the doctor, then he sighed, and returned his attention to the letter and to Daniel.

 

“Sometimes that man worries me,” he said quietly,  “He makes me think of a gigantic moth who can’t resist the flame, he tries, but -”

 

“You mean Mrs Pelman?” Daniel shook his head, “I don’t think you need worry about Soames, not after what happened to you.  He won’t be fooled by her again.”

 

Adam darted a sharp look over at his subordinate and then lowered his gaze, the thought crossed his mind that, yes, Daniel was very much like Joe.

 

 

 

………………………

 

Victoria Shannon approached the door to the house belonging to the Canadys with some slight hesitation.  It had taken a considerable amount of self examination and honest criticism to reach the decision she had come to earlier,  and now here she was, about to knock on the door of Ann Canady’s home and discuss the matters so intimate to her own heart with Hester Verlaine.

 

Even as she brought her clenched fist to knock on the door it was pulled open and Hester stood there, not the calm Hester she knew, but a wild eyed, panic stricken young woman with hair all awry and face quite devoid of colour,

 

“Thank goodness it’s you, Victoria.  Come inside quickly,” and she seized hold of the other young woman’s wrist and pulled her into the house.  “Take your jacket off, see that sheet, tie it around you or find an apron … anything will do so long as it is clean .. Hurry now, hurry.”

 

“But why - Hester, why?”  Vicky slowly unbuttoned her jacket and began to pull it off, as she reached for an apron that had been slung over the back of a chair a cry came from up stairs, a cry so long and drawn out in its agony that she shivered and the small hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.  “Oh my word, what’s happening, what’s happening?”

 

“It’s the baby.  It’s decided to come early.  There was only me here with Ann, and Candy is out and won’t be back -” she ran to the bottom of the stairs, “I’m coming, Ann, I’m coming” then she turned to Vicky “Get hot water, towels and - and some soap.  Can you make some coffee?”  all this flung from over her shoulder as she ran up the stairs.

 

“Coffee?  What do you want coffee for?”

 

“To drink, of course.  I’ve been awake for hours - please hurry -” she disappeared from view and Vicky heard her calling out “It’s alright, Ann, it’s alright, Vicky has come to help.”

 

‘Vicky has come to help’ - with knees knocking together Victoria walked as though in her sleep to the large kitchen, a big bright room that Adam had hoped would be the centre of his own home, now the centre of someone else’s world.  She saw the pans bubbling with hot water and carefully lifted them, poured the water into bowls, pulled out towels and then stood wondering how she was possibly going to carry it all upstairs.  How was she going to do it?  She looked from one pan to the other, too many pans, too much water and all of it scalding hot.  She shook her head in dismay and filled a kettle with cold water which she put on the stove, hopefully it would do for coffee when she came down.

 

Carefully, praying that she wouldn’t spill any, she carried one bowl of hot water up the stairs with a towel tucked over one arm and soap in her pocket.

 

The room she stepped into smelt like something she had never experienced before, stale with the rank smell of perspiration and blood.   She closed her eyes and then opened them again to look in the direction of the bed.  She couldn’t look, she had to turn her eyes away and carry the bowl and set it down close to Hester who very carefully took the soap and towels and began to wash Ann’s face and hands, around her neck, around her body,

 

“I’m dying ..” Ann whispered

 

“No, no, you’re not dying, my love, just hang on there, the baby’s coming.  Just take -”

 

“No, I can’t, I can’t -”

 

“You can, Ann, you can.”  Hester took hold of her cousin’s hand and the fingers tightened and squeezed as the body arched, and the woman shrieked and screamed on the bed and pushed and pushed and then flopped back, exhausted, perspiration trickling down her face and around her neck and body.

 

“Where’s Candy … please find him … oooh, here it comes again …”

 

Victoria turned away, she ran out of the room and down the stairs with her hands over her ears to close off the sounds of the woman on the bed.  She wanted to forget the sight of the blood on the white sheets, and the mess … she reached the haven of the kitchen and leaned over the sink, pumped water into a glass and gulped it down.

 

She filled a jug with hot water, snatched at another towel and hurried back up the stairs, her legs were like lead, and when she opened the door she glanced over at the bed where Hester was cradling Ann in her arms, at the same time supporting her body while Ann panted like a dog who hadn’t drank water for hours during the hottest day in the year.

 

“Vicky, take hold of her other hand …”

 

“I - I -”

 

“Take hold of her other hand, please.  Rub her back and put some of this camphor oil on her temples.  Gently now, Ann, gently.”

 

Victoria turned her head away and stared out at the view from the window.  She took Ann’s hand and winced at the strength of the womans grip which tightened and tightened as she gave a long shuddering shriek.

 

“She should have a doctor -” Vicky cried accusingly.

 

“Yes, she should, but where will she get a doctor hereabouts in time to deliver this baby?” Hester replied sharply, “This isn’t back East, remember?”

 

“Don’t let me die don’t let me die” Ann intoned amid wild puffing and panting and then a low keening wail that seemed to last for so long that Hester could have cried and Vicky was near to fainting when it ended and Ann fell back into her cousins arms, her eyes rolled up into her head, the eyelids closed.

 

A little wailing noise and both women looked at the baby’s head, dark hair, bloodied though it was, and Hester said softly to Ann

 

“Just another push -”

 

……………………

 

Cassandra Pelman brushed her hair slowly, and then carefully braided it into one thick plait that fell across her shoulder.  She kept her eyes cast down, and watched as a mouse scurried across the room..  There was a time when she would have screamed at the sight, but not now.  She wasn’t sure why the sight of the mouse no longer caused her to scream, she just accepted the fact.

 

The ship was creaking.  It was like a woman in labour pains and she raised her head to listen, a frown on her brow.

 

“Why is the ship moaning and creaking like that, is it going to sink?”

 

“The anchors are down.  The Captain says we’re stopping here awhile.”

 

She looked at the marine’s back, he never turned his head to look at her, just threw the words at her, with his eyes straight ahead of him.   She looked down the corridor and watched as Soames approached the cell, a tray of food in his hands and an odd expression on his face.

 

“Every chain has a weak link,” Jeffrey had told her once, more than once, and it was true, Henry Eugene had been their weak link when they needed to find those papers, and then there was Vacek Krizanic and so many others. 

 

Soames stopped at the door which the marine opened and he took the food into her and placed it on a table.  He stepped back and observed her as she sat there on her bed, her fingers still twisting around her hair.

 

“Why are we stopped?”

 

“Captains orders.”

 

“Where are we now?”

 

“That’s not for you to know -” he removed the cloth so that she could see the meal set out for her, “Come and eat something.  You need to build up your strength.”

 

“Are they going to hang me now?”

 

“Of course not.”

 

She looked at the food, and realised she was really hungry.  But do mad women know that they’re hungry, she wondered.  She reached out and picked up some meat and nibbled daintily at it, then looked at him,

 

“You’re the doctor , aren’t you?  Do you think I’m mad?”

 

He gulped, and  stepped away from her, then he forced a smile,

 

“Well, you’re very lucid today, Mrs Pelman.” he replied slowly.

 

She didn’t answer, she was hungry, and mad or not, she wanted to eat.  She turned to the food and gave it her full attention and feeling that he had been dismissed, Soames left the cell.

 

 

Chapter 102

 

Scott had brought in a tray with fresh coffee, so that when O'Brien returned to the cabin Adam was already pouring out the beveridge into two cups, one of which he handed to his fellow Officer with a smile,

"Tell me what you have in mind, O'Brien?" he eventually asked when both men had settled back into their seats.

"You don't have to ask that, surely?" O'Brien replied with a rather short smile, "You know I'd follow you into the jaws of death if asked."

Adam gave a gave deep chuckle and shook his head

"No, I wouldn't ask you to do that," he frowned then and sipped his coffee, "We've been following the co-ordinates from Hawaii to San Francisco, isn't that right?"

"Yes, you were wounded in Hawaii, the letter arrived from Bingham, so I just directed a course straight through to 'Frisco. I'm sorry if -"

Adam raised his hands to stop him from saying anymore, and gave a slight shrug of the shoulders, he drank a little more coffee before stretching out his legs,

"If we were to change course now for Washington it would mean adding days to our journey, going through Cape Horn - and even though we are both Cape Horniers, Daniel, I wouldn't wish to go that route at this point of time."

"So, what are you saying?" Daniel asked quietly

"Well, despite my best instincts I think we should continue on to San Francisco and take what comes. Sergeant Armstrong's a good man, and we have a good crew, whoever Mrs Pelman's friends or enemies happen to be, I'm sure that we shall be more than a match for them."

.................

"When do we raise the anchors and get moving again, Captain?" the helmsman looked over at O'Brien who had returned to the bridge wreathed in smiles and lookiing far happier than he had on his previous trip.

"Before daybreak tomorrow, Davies. In the meantime the Commodore thought the men would enjoy extra grog with their rations, and an evening to relax. I'm sure no one will object to that now, will they?"

“No, sir, you can be sure of that.” Davies nodded, and gazed out to sea, frowned a little and looked at O’Brien, “How is the Commodore now, sir? Is he recovering only we don’t see much of him on deck.”

“He’s -” O’Brien nodded thoughtfully, “He’s recovering slowly.”

Davies sighed and said no more, it wasn’t for him to comment and he turned his attention to his work. O’Brien walked to the taffrail and looked down at the sea, he smiled slowly, and thought over the brief discussion in Adam’s room and how relieved he had felt when Adam had affirmed the decision to continue on to San Francisco. He glanced up as Soames approached him,

“I hear we’re going to change course, Captain O’Brien?”

“You heard wrong, Doctor.” O’Brien smiled at the Doctor, “We are maintaining our course for 'Frisco. Are you alright, sir, you look tired?”

“I’m well enough, O’Brien,” Soames replied, “Are you turning doctor now?” and he laughed, a short laugh, one without merriment and O’Brien wondered if he were being chided for his concern.

“I don’t think we need look for any other doctor on board this ship, sir.”

Soames said nothing to that but joined O’Brien at the taffrail and looked down at the waters. The Baltimore was still anchored, the orders were not to resume the journey until the dawn of the next day.

“When we get there, what will happen to Mrs Pelman?”

“She’ll be taken to prison,” O’Brien replied quietly, without looking at the other man although he felt a slight uneasiness at the mention of her.

“She needs hospital attention.”

“That may be your opinion, Doctor, and you may be correct, but our orders are to take her to a place of detention. They’ll decide what’s best for her there.”

Soames said nothing more, he stayed a moment or two longer before making his excuses and returning to sick bay. O’Brien watched him and then hurriedly left the bridge to go to Adam’s quarters, where he found the Commodore at his desk marking out a route on some charts. Adam looked up, frowned slightly and put down his pen,

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I suppose -” O’Brien paused by the door and then closed it, “It’s just that Soames was asking about Mrs Pelman, and it made me feel uncomfortable.”

Adam pursed his lips slightly, raised one shoulder in a shrug, and then looked back down at his maps,

“He’s a doctor, he’s probably worried about her mental condition.”

“Do you think she’s mad or just acting?”

“I’m not a doctor, I wouldn’t know.” Adam replied off handedly, and O’Brien walked further into the room and looked at his friend rather anxiously,

“Don’t you care?”

Adam looked up now, sharply, and looked at O’Brien as though surprised at such a question, he quirked an eyebrow , and O’Brien glanced away, found a chair to sit upon, and looked back with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Is there something wrong, Daniel? Are you worried about something?” Adam asked in a softer, kinder tone of voice, and he walked, rather stiffly and with a hand clutched to his side, to a chair opposite O’Briens. He sat down carefully and sighed, “Are you concerned that I questioned your orders?"

O’Brien flushed a little, Adam’s question had been asked in such a kindly manner that it embarrassed him, and he shook his head, smiled,

“No, I have never had any reason to doubt your instincts, Adam, you should know that by now.” he cleared his throat, “It’s just this matter of Mrs Pelman. It sticks in my craw that we could be delivering her up to her death.”

“Why? Because she’s a woman or because she’s a beautiful woman?” Adam asked with a smile, and his eyes twinkled, “Don’t let her fool you, Daniel. She’s responsible for the deaths of some of our friends, remember?” he leaned forward, “When you look at her again - remember Gibbs, and young Makepeace. They made that journey with us to Alaska, shared our dangers … and died in San Francisco because of Mrs Pelman.”

Daniel nodded, stretched out his legs and looked at Adam thoughtfully,

“Soames thinks she should be put in a hospital.”

“He’s a doctor, it’s only right that he should think so. Once the authorities see her and check her over, no doubt that’s where they’ll put her - if she’s really ill or mad, of course.”

“You think she’s acting, don’t you?”

Adam frowned, his eyes looked momentarily troubled, concerned, and he drew in his breath in a deep sigh,

“Daniel, I don’t rightly know.” the furrows in his brow deepened, he tugged at his ear rather self consciously, “Let me put it this way - sometimes a person can act a part so well, so realistically, that eventually the part becomes the person.” he looked directly at his friend now, the dark eyes shadowed by heavy lids, “Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Perhaps that’s what worries Soames as well, after all, he’s a good doctor and a caring man.” Adam leaned back against his chair, and rubbed his thumb slowly round and round the carving in the wood, “I would say that if we had gone on to Washington, Mrs Pelman would most definitely be mad.”

…………………..

Hester Verlaine turned to look at the man who threw open the door of the bedroom, and put her finger to her lips

 

“Congratulations, Candy -” she whispered, “You have a daughter.  They’re both asleep at the moment, but come and look at her.”

 

Candy heard the words but they didn’t register for a moment as his eyes devoured the sight of his beloved wife, satisfied himself that the gentle rise and fall of the covers indicated that she was indeed asleep, and then very quietly tip toed over to the little crib and peered down to look at the infant nestled within,

 

“Did you say - a daughter?” he breathed and leaned forwards to touch the fingers that lay like petals upon a pillow, he swallowed, a gulp, half sob, half laugh, “A daughter?” he looked at Hester, a smile creased his face, tears stood out in his eyes, “And Ann?  Is she alright?”

 

“Ann’s very well, she’s tired but well.”

 

“Can I - can I hold her?”

 

“Of course, she’s your daughter,” Hester laughed quietly, and leaned down to pick the baby from the crib and place her in Candy’s arms, “Isn’t she beautiful?”

 

Candy wasn’t sure about that, his heart cried out yes, but his eyes saw a crumpled red face with black hair, a flat nose and a gummy mouth. He frowned,

 

“She’s very red, is that normal?”

 

“I believe so.”

 

“She’s - um - very light.”

 

“About 6 pounds in weight, I got the kitchen scales up here to check on that …”

 

“She’s very wet.”

 

“You’ll have to get used to that -”

 

They smiled at one another over the baby’s head.

 

“And Ann is alright?” he asked again, just as the baby stirred, opened one very blue eye, glared at him, and gave a little whimper, “Thank you, Hester, thank you for all your help.”

 

“Oh, it wasn’t just me, Victoria helped as well.”

 

“Victoria?  Is she here?”

 

“No - er - she left a while ago.” Hester smiled and then turned to the bed as sounds of Ann waking could be heard, “I’ll leave the three of you by yourselves now, give you time to get to know one another.”

 

Candy nodded, his eyes turned to Ann who smiled dreamily, and gestured for him to approach, as Hester closed the door upon them, she saw Candy pass the child to her mother, before folding them both into his arms.

 

………………..

 

Victoria Shannon closed the door to her house and leaned upon it.  She closed her eyes just for a second or two to reassure herself that she had actually reached home without falling out of the buggy, or being sick.   This was it, she thought, decision made, there was to be no turning back.  It was strange, she hadn’t even had to discuss it with Hester after all, everything had been revealed so clearly that there was no doubting what she had to do now.  No, no doubting at all.   She untied her bonnet and tossed it onto a table, before turning to the stairs and making her way to her bedroom.

 

 

Chapter 103

 

As the moon rose through the clouds to beam down upon the Baltimore, Adam Cartwright opened the window of his cabin to listen to the sounds of the men on the lower decks.  Music was playing, not the rowdy loud music from earlier in the evening, but soft music, someone who obviously felt close to home and as a result wanted to convey his feelings through the song that lilted over the evening air.

 

A man with a rich baritone voice began to sing, and Adam listened for some moments before realising that he was not alone, he turned his  head and smiled as Soames came into the room,

 

“Ah, Doctor, sit down.  Would you like a drink?  Have some coffee?”

 

“Thank you, I wouldn’t mind if I do.”  Soames accepted the drink and smelt the aroma before taking some, then he looked at Adam, “I really came to check your dressings.”

 

“I know,” Adam nodded, and closed the window, wincing slightly as he had to stretch to do so, “Someone has a good voice.”

 

“Yes, the men have been grateful for this brief interlude of relaxation, they know they’ll be home soon and are glad of it.”

 

“And what about yourself?   Will you be glad to be home?”

 

“Oh, I’m a long way from home, Adam, once I get to San Francisco I’ll just sign up on another ship to go someplace else.” he sighed, and looked down into the muddy brown liquid which he swirled around and around the cup, “I wanted to discuss the matter of Mrs Pelman -”

 

“I’d rather not -”

 

“But -”

 

“No, Doctor, don’t push the point, I said I’d rather not discuss Mrs Pelman.”  Adam rose to his feet, winced and placed a hand to where the wound pained him, “You know, I had a wound here once before, a Cheyenne shaman gave me some revolting herbs to take and stuffed it with moss, it seemed to heal pretty well.”

 

“No doubt, but the wound you received this time was pretty close range -” Soames rose to his feet also and helped Adam remove his shirt so that he could unwind the bandages. “It does make a difference, the closer the bullet hits its target the more damage to the flesh.  Here now, let me see -”

 

Adam stared at the far wall and let his mind wander onto other things, like telegrams to his Pa and brothers, a ride on Sport as soon as he got home, while Soames gently prodded around the wounded area.  It wasn’t healing quite as well as he had hoped, but there was enough healthy tissue to prove that there was no serious infection.  He took out clean lint and after dusting it over with zinc powder he began to redress with clean bandages.

 

“That should keep it from getting any worse although I would advise you see another doctor as soon as your reach ’Frisco.  What time do you think we should arrive?”

 

“Sometime in the afternoon.”

 

Soames nodded and slowly rewound the soiled lined as though needing to do something to pass the time, he glanced at Adam and wondered why the man couldn’t, wouldn’t, talk about the prisoner.  He cleared his throat,

 

“I don’t think she’s mad, you know.”

 

“Doctor Soames, I -”

 

“I just wanted you to know that, which means that she’ll go on trial, whereas if she were mad, certified as mad, she would get hospital treatment.” he looked at Adam and sighed, “It’s just hard to think of a woman like her being executed for treason and -”

 

“That’s not for us to decide, Doctor, it’s possible there will be other fools like you on the jury who will be swayed by a pretty face and whatever act she’ll put on for their benefit, and if so, it’s possible that she’ll be freed and allowed to commit other atrocities.” Adam leaned forward, and grabbed the Doctor by the wrist, “If you have such a short memory, Doctor, just try and keep in mind that she twice tried to kill me, she has killed a man on board ship since we left the Kurils, and she was responsible for the deaths of many others.  If I have to keep reminding you of that, sir, in order for you to stay clear of her, and to quit feeling sorry for her, then I’ll do so until you leave this ship.”

 

Soames shook himself free of Adam’s grip, and shook  his head,

 

“I know you’re right, of course, but -”

 

The silence hung in the air between them, Adam’s dark eyes seemed to grow darker as he looked into the other man’s face, Soames gulped

 

“- but I can’t help but feel for her.  You see, I have a daughter of her age, a pretty girl too, and -  and I don’t know where she is or what became of her - when I see Mrs Pelman and the way she looks at times, it reminds me of my own girl, and I can’t help but wonder what happened to her, and if she is safe.”

 

“Soames, I can understand, believe me I’m a man who can understand how you feel, but you place  yourself and my crew in great danger if  you let your feelings take over from your common sense.  Do I have to forbid you to go to the brig again?”

 

Soames said nothing, he shook his head and picked  up his bag and without another word left the cabin.

 

……………………

 

Hester looked over at Hoss and met his eyes, and the look on her face made the big man blush a little and feel fidgety inside.  He lowered his eyes and looked away, and grinned rather sheepishly at Joe who was watching them with a smile on his face,

 

“Well, big brother, looks like you’ve made yourself a conquest there.” Joe whispered and nudged his brother with his elbow while he nodded over at Hester, Candy and Ann.

 

“Yeah, I reckon so,” Hoss replied and grinned slowly, “I’m going to ask her to marry me, Joe.”

 

“You are?  Hey, congratulations.  Perhaps we can fix up a double wedding?”

 

“You think so?” Hoss’ eyes opened wide, “Say, that sure would be something, wouldn’t it?” he chuckled a little, soft and deep in his throat, “Sure would be a surprise for elder brother, huh?  Both of us hitched during  his trip away?”

 

“Yeah, and -” Joe paused as he saw Ann picking up the baby and he saw how Candy’s face softened at the sight of his two girls, he sighed, “Could be you in a years time, Hoss.”

 

“Or you.” Hoss gave his brother a jab in the ribs, before approaching the circle sitting close to the fire, unsurprisingly he sat in the chair next to Hester.

 

“What are you going to call her, Ann?” Ben asked, his deep voice low and gentle as he leaned forward to peek at the little face swaddled in blankets,

 

“We’re going to call her Rose.” Ann replied without raising her head from gazing at the infant, “That was Candy’s mother’s name.”

 

“It suits her.”

 

There was a mumble of voices all in agreement, and Joe smiled knowing that had they chosen to call the child by any other name, they would have all agreed just the same. 

 

“Joe, where’s Victoria?  I thought she would be here this evening with us all?” Hester looked at the younger man, an anxious frown on her brow, and a suspicion niggling in her heart.

 

“She couldn’t get here, I think she was a bit - er -  um - I think the birth kind of upset her a little,” Joe replied and blushed a little for the note he had received from his beloved had been brief, briefer perhaps than he would have expected or wanted.

 

“I shall go and see her tomorrow,” Hester said quietly, “She’s very young -” and she allowed her voice to trail off a little, although it seemed to leave a lot of unanswered questions in Joe’s mind.

 

…………………….

 

“Ann said you helped her so much, Hester -” Hoss murmured as they strolled together later that evening in the little garden at the back of the house.

 

“Victoria helped as well.” Hester snapped a twig from a shrub and twirled it between her fingers, and looked up at the moon, “Don’t you ever look up at the sky, Hoss, and realise how very small and insignificant we all are?”

 

“I sure do, ma’am, Hester I mean.”  he frowned and chewed on nothing as he realised he had made a mistake, why would she be interested in a fool like him, he asked himself, and he sighed.

 

“What’s wrong, Hoss?  Are you alright?”

 

“Yes,’m. I mean, shucks, I can’t even get to say your name right.”

 

“Yes, you do.” she laughed, and took hold of his hand in hers, then gave it a gentle squeeze, “Oh, Hoss, I love it when you say my name -”

 

“Sure, but I don’t, do I? I just mumble and bumble about - the thing is, Hester, I jest feel so much for you that I jest can’t seem to think straight when I’m around you.”

 

Hester didn’t say anything to that but looked away, then tossed the little twig to one side and drew her shawl closer around her shoulders for the nights were cooler now, she sighed, and nodded,

 

“I guess that’s kind of a compliment, Hoss.”

 

“Wal, I didn’t mean it to be - ‘ceptin’ that it’s true.”

 

“I’m glad of it,” she looked at him, and her face was soft, “because I kind of get a little bit light headed when I’m around you as well.”

 

“Y’do?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded and then looked away although they now were walking much closer together, so much so that their elbows were knocking into each other so that she quite naturally slipped her arm through his, she could feel his body tremble when she did so, and looked up at him, “Hoss, you’re a very unusual man, you know.”

 

“I am?” he frowned, and grimaced slighty, “Wal, I guess so, I’m big and clumsy, I ain’t clever and intelligent like Adam, and I ain’t handsome and -”

 

“I don’t want to talk about your brothers, Hoss.  I just want to tell you that you have so many wonderful qualities that so few men possess.  You’re kind, honest, and loyal.  You’re one of the most -” she didn’t say anymore but on impulse turned in towards him, stood slightly on tiptoe, and kissed him, full on the lips. 

 

“Doggone it, Miss Hester, we’ll have to git married now.” Hoss whispered as he slipped an arm around her waist and drew her closer to him, “Won’t we?”

 

“Yes, Hoss, I reckon we will” she said softly and cupped his face between her hands and kissed him again.

 

Chapter 104

 

Hoss basked in the pleasure in which the announcement of their engagement was received.  Warm embraces from Ann to Hester and himself, cheers and congratulations, slaps on the back from Joe and Candy, and Ben’s warm smile, hand on the shoulder, dark eyes smouldering with that look that always made him feel proud, as though nothing else in the world mattered except for the fact that his Pa was happy for him.

 

“Hester, I can’t tell you how pleased I am that I shall have you as a daughter in law,” Ben smiled as he took Hesters hands in his own and then kissed her cheek, but that wasn’t enough for her, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close and when they parted there were tears in her eyes.

 

Candy looked over at Joe and caught the younger mans eyes, he wondered if he was mistaken in seeing a pensiveness in the green hazel eyes, a slight furrow of the eyebrows that indicated concern perhaps, or confusion.  Candy wasn’t sure, but the look worried him, he turned away and looked at Ann, saw the joy on her face, and tried not to dwell on the expression he had caught in Joe’s eyes.

 

“I’m real pleased, big brother,” Joe placed a hand on Hoss’ shoulder, “Somehow you two just seemed made for each other.”

 

“Thanks, Joe.” Hoss wrapped his arm around his little brother’s shoulders and hugged him close, nearly lifting him off his feet, “The only thing that would make this perfect was if Adam were here.”

 

“That’s for sure -” Joe grinned, his eyes twinkled and then his smile faltered, and he looked away, it seemed no one had thought to include Victoria.

 

………………..

 

Rain had blown in from the east and fell as though not sure how to vent its temper, one moment gently pattering down and another as though gathering up its venom and lashing down upon the decks of the ship.  The sea became tumultuous in its turn and tossed the Baltimore roughly too and fro, as though a giant baby were having a tantrum and kicking his toys out of his cot.

 

Adam left his bed and pulled on his clothes, his boots and his outer jacket.  He pulled open a drawer of the desk and pulled out a pouch which contained some herbs given him a long time ago.  He opened it and raised it to his nose, inhaled the aroma and closed his eyes.  He had been dreaming but all he could recall of the dream was that he had been building wooden blocks, one on top of the other, higher and higher.  The tower was wobbling, and he was wondering how to keep it all together when Joe had appeared, a child, a little boy, freckles on his nose and large eyes gazing at the tower.

 

“Fall down, fall down” he had cried

 

“No, I want to build it higher.”

 

“No, fall down, fall down bang on floor”

 

“Put this block on the top, Joe - gently.”

 

But the child didn’t want to put the block on the top of the tower, he had swung his arm and the tower had toppled, and he had clapped his hands and looked up at his brother for approval.  Adam remembered a pang of resentment and then the pleasure at his brothers joy, he had leaned forwards to pick the child  up and that was when he had woken, to the pain and a fading dream lingering at the back of his mind.

 

He took a pinch of the herbs and wondered if, after all this time, they would be still effective.  He chewed on them mechanically and then closed his eyes for the out of body feeling he expected from them.  Their potency was not diminished with age or neglect.  He had to lean against the desk for some moments until the feeling had passed.

 

Rain splattered against the window of the cabin and he turned away from the sight, after a momentary pause he decided the feeling of rain on his face would be more refreshing that staying in the stuffy confines of his room.

 

Laurenson was taking his trick on the wheel, although only for a dog watch during the night, he was already waiting for Davies to come and relieve him.  He watched as the tall figure of the Commodore appeared as a dark shadow within the shadows of the ship, and instinctively raised a hand to his brow in salute.  Adam acknowledged this with a nod of the head and a brief smile, before descending the ladder from the bridge to the lower deck and going forewards, (towards the bow of the vessel), while the rain washed down upon his uncovered head.

 

The dream had made him feel restless.  It often happened when he dreamt of home.  Sometimes he woke from the dreams feeling the same way he would have done years ago, when a child, and when home consisted of a wagon, his Pa and Hoss.  He paused now and leaned against the side of the ship and looked down into the dark waters.  There was niether wash nor wake to disturb the ship although she rolled from side to side as the rain fell and the seas simmered.  She was stationary and therefore permitted such indignities upon her vast hulk with a patient temperance.

 

His thoughts turned now to Soames and then swung to memories of Stanley Phillips, which, in turn, took him to Jack Lawson.  All victims of that terrible war where brother had taken weapons against brother, and father against son.  How long before the hate died along with the fighting?  All these broken fragments of humanity expected to live their lifes alongside their ghosts as though nothing had happened.  He raised his face to the sky and the rain streamed down, plastering his hair against his scalp, upon his brow.

 

……………..

 

Cassandra Pelman raised her knees against her chest and hugged them closer by wrapping her arms around them.   She stared out into the gloom of her prison and tried to think beyond the nightmares that kept seeping into her brain.  The faces of men, and some women, from her past came and drifted before her, mouths opening, mouths closing.  All trying to convey something to her, but the silence was confusing.  She closed her eyes, and tried to remember why she was feeling so frightened.

 

Jeffrey would know, of course, Jeffrey always understood.  He had arranged for her marriage to Pelman all that time ago, a loveless marriage, but a profitable one for the two men.  She was already numb to love, love had died in her heart a long time ago, apart from that which she had felt for Jeffrey.

 

Now another face came to her memory, a new face, a face that did not belong to that endless stream paraded before her mind to torment her.  This face was of a man with large expressive dark eyes, who with a single lift of the brow could signify so much.  She thought and thought so hard to try and remember the name of the man whom she knew could be her saviour.  She wasn’t sure what was involved anymore, just that this one man could save her from - well, whatever it was that threatened her.

 

…………………

 

Joe leaned forwards and lit the lamp, he turned up the flame and set the lamp down upon the chest of drawers in his room.   Somehow he had come out of the evening feeling a weight upon his heart, as though a dark cloud had settled over his head and was pressing down upon him.

 

He pulled open the drawer and took from the corner what his fingers had sought … a small box covered in green velvet.  He had bought the box from the jewellers in Virginia City some years ago, and the man had queried his buying an empty box, expecting him, no doubt, to wish to buy something pretty to put into it. But he already had something pretty, something precious, to put in it and now, as he opened the lid, he knew what it was he was going to see.

 

The lapiz lazuli ear rings were just as he had left them all that time ago, and with them was the now dry and fragile remains of some white flowers that Little Moon had worn in her hair and given to him before they had parted.  They didn’t smell so sweet now, just a musty dry smell, but he could remember how sweetly they had smelt when she had pressed them into his hand.

 

He took the box and sat down on the edge of his bed and stared down at its contents.  Little Moon.  Hair so black like a ravens wing, it would fall across her face like a curtain and he would fold it back and curl it around her ear, and she would look at him out of the corner of her eyes, teasing, laughing.  He remembered how they had first met, silent Little Moon, unable to speak, no words from those sweet lips until he had gone and the first words she had said was “Joseph -”

 

He closed the lid as their came a light tap on the door and Ben peered into the room, paused awhile and then stepped inside, closed the door gently behind him and walked to his son. The bed creaked as Ben sat down beside Joe, looked at the little box his son held and sighed,

 

“What’s worrying you, son?”

 

The deep voice was so gentle, so kind.  Joe sniffed, how many times had his fathers voice been like that last straw on the camels back, broken it, broken him?  He could withstand anger, fight back against heated words, but the tender word spoken by this man could break his heart.

 

“I - I was just thinking of Little Moon, that’s all, Pa.” he couldn’t believe it of himself, he was on the verge of tears?  Why?  Oh, but he knew why … of course he knew why.  He sniffed again. “I just wish I had found her, you know?”

 

That faint lift of the voice, that doubtful quaver, it made Ben’s heart ache and he put his arm around his sons shoulders and held him close.

 

“I keep thinking, even now, that perhaps she is out there still, alive.  Perhaps Adam was wrong when those girls told him about her being killed.  They could have been wrong and he got it confused somehow. I keep going over it in my head and -”

 

“Joe, why are you tormenting yourself with this now, when you’re about to marry someone else?”

 

Joe licked his lips, he was surprised at how dry they were, he was surprised at how dry his mouth was …  he licked them again and then looked up at his father,

 

“Hoss and Hester - they seem like two parts of a whole, don’t they?”

 

“I couldn’t wish for Hoss to have found a better person, yes, you’re right, that’s the impression I get as well.”

 

Ben didn’t look at Joe, he turned his eyes towards the door, he had heard Hoss’ footsteps on the landing out side and wondered if he would also come in to see Joe, but the steps passed on and he heard the door of Hoss’ room open and close, very quietly, as though anticipating that his father and brother were already sleeping.

 

“He’s been writing to Adam -” Ben said softly.

 

“Yes, I know.”

 

“What are you trying to tell me, son?”

 

“I don’t know, Pa.  I guess I’m too afraid to say it even to myself.”

 

“I see -” Ben nodded and hugged Joe closer before standing up and leaving the bedside, his body diminished the light from the lamp, casting shadows, “Well, son, you’ll have to find the courage to face up to it some time or other, won’t you?”

 

Joe didn’t answer.  He couldn’t find the answer.  He could only lick his lips and wish for a glass of water and, for some strange reason, wish for his brother Adam to be downstairs so that he could go down and talk the matter over with him.  Somehow he knew that if he could have talked to Adam the matter would be so much easier to resolve.

 

“Good night, son.”

 

“Sure, g’night, Pa.”

 

…………………

 

“Hi, Adam,

 

This is only going to be a short letter this time because I can’t seem to stop feeling itchy and fidgety inside myself which makes it doggone difficult to write.

 

Well, I dun (done?) it, Adam, I dun (he crossed that out as well and wrote done) proposed to Hester.  It was the easiest thing in the world to do because she makes everything easy for me.  I ain’t never understood about love and such notions before but it sure makes a man feel like life is worth living.

 

I wish you could have been there tonight.  Candy and Ann have their little baby, Rose, and Joe, Pa and me, with Hester.  Shucks, there was such a lot of good feeling there.  And Pa said Hester was just the kind of daughter in law he had ever wanted.  Guess I coulda bust my britches at that … Hester cried …  Adam, sure wish you had been there.

 

I’m going to bed now, being in love sure is exhaustin biziness, ain’t it?”

 

………………….

 

The Marine on duty outside the door that led to the brig snapped to attention when Adam passed by, the Commodore paused and stopped,

 

“How is she?”

 

“Very quiet, sir.”

 

“Has the Doctor been to see her?”

 

“No, sir, no one has for some hours now.”

 

“Has she eaten?”

 

The Marine frowned, then shook his head,

 

“She said the food was poisoned.  It was still on the tray when they came to clear away, but she had all the water from the jug, and asked for more.”

 

Adam said nothing more, he glanced up at the sky, the rain still fell, gently now and in a way soothing.  He heard, rather than saw, the Marine salute as he walked away. 

 

When he returned to his cabin and took off his outer jacket he was surprised at just how wet his clothing had become, even his shirt was soaked through.  He slipped the clothing off, tentatively put a hand against where the wound still ached and felt the bandages rough to his fingers.  With a sigh he slipped back into bed. He heard the bell toll. The dog watch was over, another had begun.  He closed his eyes and imagined the helmsmen changing shifts up on the bridge …

 

Chapter 105

 

“Pa, would you mind if I went into town this morning instead of checking the timber with Hoss?”

 

“Hey, Joe, I was going to ask Pa -”

 

“Quieten down, the two of you -”

 

Ben cast a wary eye at both his sons.  He hadn’t slept well and had a crick in his neck and a niggle in his back right in the lumbar region.  He glared at Joe who was scowling back at him, indicating that he also had had a bad nights sleep, and then glanced at Hoss who looked as though he were still in dreamland and blissfully unaware of the fact that anyone could have woken up grouchy and grumpy on such a perfect day.

 

He poured out coffee into three cups and mumbled thanks to Hop Sing when a plate loaded with food arrived, then he raised his eyes to look at Joe and nodded,

 

“Sure, Joe, the timber can wait.”  at the back of his mind he thought ‘There’s something worrying the boy, not that he is a boy and he won’t thank me for interfering - I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid that he’ll regret later on’.

 

“Thanks, Pa.” Joe nodded his thanks although there was no smile on his lips, no warmth in his words, and  his eyes looked heavy with misery, he stared down at his plate of food and muttered something to Hop Sing who didn’t notice anyway as he was busy putting food in front of Hoss,

 

“Shucks, Hop Sing, you sure loaded this plate up high.”  Hoss surveyed his breakfast with a look of amazement on his face.

 

“What you mean?  You eat all time this much?  Why you say plate loaded too high?”

The irate cook scowled belligerently at Hoss and then turned to Ben as though to appeal for help from him, Ben smiled,

 

“I think Hoss has other things on his mind other than food today, Hop Sing.”

 

“What?”  Hop Sing stepped back, “You have other thing, what other thing?”

 

“Shucks, Hop Sing, didn’t I tell you? I’m goin’ to git married.”

 

“Ah -” Hop Sing nodded, “Married?” he looked at Joe, frowned, then looked at Hoss again, “Wife not want you skin and bone - you eat food, no more complaint”

 

“That tells you, Hoss -” Ben smiled at his son, while Hop Sing bustled back to his kitchen from where the clanging of saucepans and skillets could be heard.  Anxiously Ben glanced over at Joe, and sighed, this was the kind of jesting around the table that Joe would normally delight in, but obviously not today. 

 

After swallowing several mouthfuls of breakfast and drinking his coffee, Joe rose from the table, tossing his napkin down as he did so

 

“If you’ll excuse me, Pa, Hoss?”

 

“Hey, you goin’ into town already?” Hoss mumbled, “If’n you can jest wait I’ll come keep you company, I want to go git something special in town for Hester.”

 

Ben winced on Joe’s behalf.   If what he thought was about to happen was on Joe’s mind the last thing he needed was to be reminded of his brother’s joy in life at the moment.  He cleared his throat,

 

“Why don’t you just get on with your breakfast, Hoss, you’ll disappoint Hop Sing if you don’t finish it all.”

 

 Hoss nodded, crammed some ham into his mouth and looked up to survey Joe who was already pulling on his gun belt,

 

“I’ll look out for you in town, Joe.” he then smiled over at his father, “I’ll be able to post off my letters to Adam.  Dang it, must be about ten at least -”

 

“You are sending them all in one envelope, arn’t you, Hoss?”  Ben asked, more in the hope of keeping Hoss in his seat than for any other reason although when the door closed his heart dipped in misery.

 

It was getting cooler now during the days, although the sun was still pleasant to  his back.  He rode with his head down, struggling to go over and over the words that he had memorised during the night.   The few snatches of sleep he had achieved had not brought him rest, only dreams that caused him to wake up with even greater concerns than previously.  He now felt tired and emotionally weary.

 

The journey to town never seemed so long.   He passed several friendly neighbours either going or coming from Virginia City, all who seemed to want to stop and talk, but he just acknowledged them with a tip of the hat and a jab of his heels in Cooch’s flanks.

 

The Shannon house glowed in the sun, it was in a perfect spot to catch the sun all day long, and as a result the garden produced sweet smelling plants to induce the passer by to linger a while and enjoy the perfumed air.  Joe dismounted and tethered the reins of his horse to the obligatory ring on the gate, removed his hat and pushed his fingers through his hair, then after clearing his throat he walked up the path and knocked tentatively on the door.

 

It was Victoria who opened the door to him.  For a matter of seconds they stood there and looked at one another before she stepped aside and asked him in.

 

“Would you like something to drink, Joe.  It looks like the road was dusty -”

 

“Thank you,” Joe set his hat down on a table and glanced down at his jacket which he thought wasn’t actually that dusty but his throat certainly was dry.  He walked into the room and wished he had kept hold of his hat just for the sake of having something to hold onto for a while.

 

“Here you are -” she handed him a glass of water, and indicated a chair, “I’ve got coffee on the boil, if you would like some in a minute.”

 

“Water’s fine, just fine - thank you, Victoria.”

 

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she glanced down and looked at his boots thoughtfully,

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come last night -”

 

“That’s alright.  Hoss and Hester are engaged now -” he delivered the news as though announcing that someone in the family had died.

 

“Are they?  Oh, well, I think we could all see that coming, couldn’t we?  They make a lovely couple, don‘t you think?”  she clasped her hands together in her lap, fingers twisting into each other,

 

“People said that about us too -”  Joe murmured.

 

“They still do, don’t they?”  she raised her chin and looked at him anxiously, licked her lips and then sighed, “Yes, they did.” and she nodded her head without looking up at him.

 

“I was thinking - Vicky - that there’s no shame in slowing down a little, I mean, perhaps our courtship went too fast and -”

 

“Hoss and Hester’s courtship has gone faster, and at least, we’ve known each other longer.” she looked at him again now, and he could see the flutter of her heart making the lace on her blouse quivering, “Joe, I’ve loved  you for a very long time, ever since you were a little boy and we were at school together.”

 

“I know,” he looked at the glass of water in his hand and raised it to his mouth, then lowered it again, still untouched, “Vicky, I care about you so much and -”

 

“You don’t think we should get married, do you?”

 

“Perhaps just post pone the arrangements for a little while, that’s all.” Joe put the glass on the table and rose to his feet, he stepped towards her and then knelt down on one knee by her side, “I care so much about you that I don’t want either of us to make a mistake.”

 

“And you feel that getting married now will be a mistake, is that it?”

 

“At this moment I do -” he took hold of one of her hands, surprised at the slight resistance she put up, “It’s my fault, Vicky, I’m just so plagued with doubts.”

 

“About my love for you?”

 

He didn’t answer, mainly because he didn’t know how to answer without hurting her feelings more than he had already, and he wasn’t surprised when she pulled her hand free from his and clasped them tightly together again in her lap.  She took a deep breath,

 

“I shouldn’t make it hard for you, Joe.” she said slowly, and looked down at him, then, rather shyly, she put her hand out and placed it gently upon his arm, “I do love you, more than I could ever think possible, but - but I know that I can’t marry you, not unless you were prepared to move back east with me.  I’ve thought it over and over in my mind, Joe.”

 

“You don’t want to live here?  On the Ponderosa with me?”

 

“You know how I was feeling after all that happened with my father?   All that talk -” she placed a firm hand on his mouth, preventing him from saying anything as she took a deep breath to say what she had been wanting to say, “the way people think I’m like my father, and only after your money.  Well, Joe, I don’t care about money, yours or anyone else’s.  But I don’t want to live in a town where people are watching everything I do, and talking about every purchase I make.  It won’t be fair to either of us -”

 

“It wouldn’t matter to me -” Joe mumbled, and then sighed, and hung his head.

 

“But then when I went to see Hester the other day, and she dragged me in to help deliver that baby -” she shuddered then, he felt the tremble of her body against his, “Joe, it was horrible.  It was like a living nightmare from which I couldn’t wake up.  Oh, I know child birth is hard, anywhere in the world it is hard.  But in those conditions - no doctor, no nurse.  It was primitive, Joe.”

 

“But that’s how it is out here, Vicky.”

 

“Exactly.  And I don’t want it like that in my life.  Hester had never delivered a baby before in her life, and neither had I!  I don’t think I’ll ever want to have a baby of my own, not ever.  But I especially wouldn’t want one here.  Joe, it made me realise that life here isn’t my kind of life - “ she paused then and looked at him, and during the pause Joe rose to his feet and returned to his chair. 

 

“I think I sensed that you were withdrawing from me some time ago, especially after the dance.”

 

“I wasn’t meaning to, not from you, Joe.” she leaned forward, closer to him, “It’s just that we’re from two different backgrounds entirely, my culture, yours -” she tried to soften the words with a smile, but her anxiety only made the words come out cold and hard, “I want to go back east, take up my career again and teach at the blind school. I felt useful there and appreciated.  Here I would be - just a housewife, in a place I would hate after a while, and I don’t want to live my life like that.”

 

Well, she had said it, she had said what she had rehearsed for days now and when the words had finished she sat back in the chair and waited. Joe rose slowly to his feet, his mouth drier than ever but the glass of water untouched.   He leaned slightly to the table to pick up his hat, and then looked at her,

 

“I couldn’t live back east, Victoria, my life, my whole life, is here on the Ponderosa.  I tried to change my life once before for someone I loved.  She was my wife for such a short time, and when she said -” he paused, something in his heart tightened, as though squeezed tight, he swallowed so that his heart would return back to normal, “when she said that our cultures were too different for us to be happy I could understand why … she was Cheyenne and I was a white man, our nations and cultures were at war,  and even though I wanted so much to be part of her world, she knew that I would not be able to find happiness there.”

 

They were both silent, both embarrassed and feeling awkward, he twisted his hat around and round for a while,

 

“I didn’t think leaving cities and such would be such a big deal to you, Vicky, after all, you were raised here -”

 

“Yes, I know that, but I’m Caleb Shannon’s daughter and -”

 

“That didn’t matter to me.   I do love you, Vicky, I loved Little Moon too and I let her ride away from me, and I lost her.   If you leave -”

 

“I can’t stay, Joe.  If you can’t come with me then it’s best that we part now.  I can’t stay here, I’m sorry, I can’t.”  she paused and frowned, “Remember that you were the one who came here today to post pone the wedding.  Perhaps it’s because you don’t love me as much as you thought -”

 

He frowned now, he thought over what she had said, and then shook his head

 

“It wasn’t for that reason, Vicky.  It was because when I watched Hoss and Hester last night I realised that they had something that we did not.  It made me wonder why that was so -.”

 

“We’re different people, at different stages in our lives.”

 

“Yes, we are -” he agreed softly, and lowered his eyes to stare down at his hat band, he ran his tongue over his lips, “I can’t leave the Ponderosa.”

 

“I can’t stay.”

 

The note of finality in her voice surprised Joe, he glanced up, saw a gleam of steel in her eyes that he had not seen before, and that confirmed it for him.  He nodded, leaned forward and kissed her cheek,

 

“Good bye, Vicky.  I do love you -”

 

“Thank you, Joe.”

 

She didn’t say goodbye to him, but followed him to the door and stood there until he had remounted his horse.  By the time he had turned Cochise in the direction of the main thoroughfare, and looked back for a sight of her, she had already closed the door.

 

Chapter 106

 

The rain fell much heavier as the evening progressed and by nightfall it had become a positive storm.  The ship heaved and tossed, and O’Brien ordered that the anchors be raised in order for the ship to fight the forces of nature.   Davies and Laurenson took to the wheel in the bridge with O’Brien.  In his cabin Adam paced the floor and eventually put on his heavy duty cloak to go out to the upper deck.

 

He stood back in the shadows, and held back from speaking a word, as though in some tacit manner he and O’Brien had come to agree that in some ways no ship should have two Captains at the helm.   As O’Brien gave grave and direct orders Adam listened, watched and observed.

 

Every so often he would turn his eyes to where tall masts should have been, and where the rigging and ropes to the great sails would have been swelling out against the wind. But not now, not on the Baltimore, and he pulled his cloak closer to shield himself from the elements and from the realisation that times had changed, the Baltimore was not his kind of ship after all.

 

“You miss the Ainola, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, and the Shenandoah, the Redoubt -” he murmured as O’Brien came and stood close by his side.  “This ship doesn’t speak the same language, not even in a storm.” he smiled slowly.

 

“Well, no man will freeze to death anymore climbing the ropes, and unfurling the sails.  Nor fall to their deaths in storms like this one -”

 

“No, you’re right.” Adam sighed, and nodded, “But they’re down below instead, in some kind of hell, shovelling coal for all they’re worth to get up speed and who knows what injuries they have to suffer.   I’d rather face the sky and feel at least halfway to meeting my Maker than down there, wondering if the next place I’m destined is just a degree or two hotter than the hell I’m already in.”

 

O’Brien merely smiled and stood silently by his friends’ side.  The boat creaked and groaned, and Adam imagined all the metal rivets straining at their seams and the men below decks feeding the boilers.  Engineer though he was, it seemed to him a disagreeable step in the name of progress.

 

……………

 

The young woman crouched in the corner and struggled to remain there.  One moment she slid one way and then the other.  She had to reach out to hold onto the bed at one stage, and then roll away from it as the bed detached itself from the corner as though attempting to share hers.

 

The lamps hanging in the area between the cell and the door to the brig swayed alarmingly, and she kept her eyes fixed on these in fear that if she did not then they would be extinguished and she would be left alone in the dark with no hope of surviving the storm.

 

Something crashed from the little table, the sound followed by the rolling of something like a heavy marble, up and down the floor in such a continuous manner that she lunged forward on her knees groping for it with her hands just so that on finding the object she could stop it from annoying her any more.  Her fingers finally closed upon a circular fob watch, one that Jeffrey had given her years earlier.  She held it close to her ear and listened to the steady ticking, while she closed her eyes and instead of looking at the lanterns struggled to recall Jeffrey’s face to her mind.

 

……………

 

The storm blew itself out within an hour of daybreak, leaving the men the multitude of tasks left to them to clear up debris and damage.  The cook created a fuss over the damage to his galley and the stokers made some attempt to create order out of disorder in their quarter while at the same maintaining the amount of pressure in the boilers that would keep the ship at the speed required of them.

 

Adam had spent some time reading and re-reading the letters from home, and the note from Bingham.  When O’Brien joined him for breakfast, a rather meagre affair, served with great apologies by Scott, he passed the note to the Captain

 

“Daniel, do you remember what Jamieson told us, when we queried about the change of orders regarding Cassandra Pelman?”

 

“You mean, when we discovered that we were to bring her here from Tokyo, instead of her standing trial there?”  O’Brien frowned, while at the same time occupying himself with the coffee.

 

“That’s right.” Adam nodded, “I’ve been thinking about it quite a bit in view of what this note from Bingham says.  I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t stand trial at all -”

 

O’Brien said nothing to that, his brow constricted and his lips narrowed, but he wasn’t sure what Adam wanted him to say so remained silent.

 

“Jamieson said the President wanted to get information from her, but at the same time we’re warned that there are people who want her dead -”

 

“And some who are her friends who wouldn’t want her to be cosying up to Grant and talking too freely, yet at the same time wouldn’t want her dead.”

 

“I suppose that latter would depend on how fierce their loyalties were to her - or to their supposed cause.” Adam accepted the coffee and put the note down, “I hate politics, how can their be true justice and law when politics interfere with it so much.”

 

“You may be wrong -”

 

“Jamieson seldom was, and he seemed quite sure about things, after all, he was a close confidante of Grants’”

 

“Well,” O’Brien sighed and glanced out of the window, “we’ll be in San Francisco by late afternoon, early evening.   We’ll find out exactly where we stand then.” he smiled slowly, a dreamlike smile and lowered his head.  It wasn’t hard for Adam to know what his friends was thinking, or rather, of whom he was thinking. 

 

“You’re thinking of Maria?” he said softly

 

“Yes.  It seems such a long time since I saw her.” O’Brien admitted, and sighed, “So much has happened since then - to us both.”

 

Adam nodded thoughtfully, and decided that now was the time to leave O’Brien to his thoughts and dreams while he contemplated what lay ahead for them both … as well as their prisoner.

 

 

Chapter 106

 

“You’re unusually quiet, Dr Soames.”

 

“Yes, well -” Soames frowned deeply, his eyes looked earnest and anxious, but he continued with the task of carefully pulling out the sutures from Adam’s wounds.  He placed a padding over the wound in Adams back and sighed, “Well, this is healing very well. No problems at all, I’ve had to leave several of the stitches in place though where the flesh needs a little more time to heal together.   I’m leaving this alone -” he lifted the padding to the wound in Adams abdomen and nodded, “Yes,  best for you to get this checked over when you get on land.”

 

“And is it my wounds that are causing you this anxiety, Soames, or something - someone - else?”  Adam raised his arms slightly for the bandages to  be rewound around him, and waited for the Doctor to reply.

 

“We’ll be arriving in a few hours time, won’t we?”

 

“Yes, but it’ll take a while longer to get a berth and actually dock.”

 

Soames nodded and indicated that Adam could now lower his arms and his shirt.  He began to put away his various bits and pieces and snapped shut the medical bag,

 

“I’m concerned about Mrs Pelman.”

 

“Really?  Yesterday you thought she was just pretending to be ill, aren’t you so sure today?”

 

“To be honest I don’t know what to think -”  he picked the bag up and glanced around the cabin as though to make sure that nothing of his was left behind, assuming, naturally, that this was to be his last visit to the Commodore’s quarters.

 

“What has she done?” Adam asked in a resigned tone of voice as he buttoned up his shirt and tucked its tails into his pants, “Made a mess of her cell again?”

 

“Perhaps you should come and see for yourself.” Soames replied quietly and sighed again as he stepped towards the door.

 

“Very well.”  Adam pulled on his jacket, and followed the Doctor from the room while still buttoning up.

 

O’Brien watched from the bridge with a thoughtful expression on his face.  Seeing his friend descend the ladder down to the lower deck tempted him to follow but he had his duties on the bridge to handle, and not so far off now was the coast line of the San Francisco bay.  He forced himself to turn his attention to his maps, to consider hidden shoals, reefs and to circumnavigate where necessary.

 

Cassandra was sitting on the chair facing the bars.  She didn’t look up although she must have heard the sound of their footsteps approaching her, instead she continued to turn a golden fob watch round and round between her fingers while all the time her lips moved as though talking to someone.   Soames glanced at Adam  with a ‘There you are, see what I mean?’ expression on his face, and Adam approached the bars to look at her more carefully.

 

She still looked reasonably tidy and clean.  Her hair was braided, a thick plait over one shoulder, and her gown was clean.   She wore some jewellery, having found, no doubt, her little jewellery case which had been previously emptied by Sophia, and returned by Adam.

 

“ … so I told him, Jeffrey, that I couldn’t do it but he said I could so I did. Did I do wrong, Jeffrey.  You have to tell me, my dear, because I can’t remember without you being there to tell me.   Did I do wrong?   He gave me a diamond ring and said I was to tell no one, but I can tell you, because I tell you everything. Are you giving me more medicine, now, Jeffrey. I would like to have more medicine now, Jeffrey.  My head aches and my throat is sore.  I don’t want to sit here any longer but my legs won’t let me stand up.  Do I have to go now, my dear, my dear Jeffrey. Don’t leave me will you , you won’t leave me ,don’t don’t leave me, Jeffrey, you always said that you wouldn’t leave me…”

 

Every word spoken in a monotone voice, words spoken fast and at speed, flat tones.  Adam cleared his throat and the voice paused, she clutched the watch in her fist tightly against her chest,

 

“No they won’t take it, I won’t let them take it from me, Jeffrey, you gave it to me didn’t you?  You said to keep it and I have even when Pelman said it was cheap rubbish but you gave it to me ..”

 

“Cassandra?”

 

She looked up, and even Soames looked in surprise at Adam Cartwright, at the softening in his voice, the gentleness of it.

 

“Cassandra?  What have you got there?”

 

“It’s mine.  Jeffrey gave it to me a long time ago, it’s mine, not yours, I keep it not you it’s mine not yours.”

 

“I understand.  It’s alright, I won’t take it from you.  What medicine did Jeffrey give you?  Do you want some medicine now?  The Doctor could get some for you?”

 

She shook her head and looked from one to the other of them, then lowered her head and began to rock back and forth in the chair, mumbling incoherent words and clutching the watch in both hands.

 

“Cassandra, if you need medicine because you are sick, Dr Soames can give you some to help you.”

 

“Soames?  Doctor, Doctor, give me a pill

                  Give me a pill

                  Because I’m ill

                  Jeffrey’s the Doctor

                  Jeffrey’s the Doctor, he’ll give me a pill.”

 

“Does Jeffrey always give you medicine when you’re ill or when you’re just tired?”

 

“Tired and weary

  Tired and weary

  Take a pill

  Don’t be ill

  Jeffrey’s the Doctor  … the Doctor.”  she was whispering the words now, her eyes turning from one corner of the room to the other, from one man’s face to the other.  The she stood up and walked towards the bars, involuntarily both men stepped back.

 

“I know you-” she pointed to Adam, “Jeffrey told me about you.  He said you killed Pelman.  You had the letters - all those names on a list.” she paused, put her head to one side and stared thoughtfully at Adam, “Who are you though?  I know your face, but I can’t remember who you are?   Can Jeffrey give me some medicine so that I can remember?”

 

“If you tell us what medicine it is we can get you some.” Adam replied quietly, his eyes narrowed slightly to catch more closely the expressions on her face and the way her own eyes moved, one moment shining and another moment dead like someone already in the grave.

 

“No, “ she raised a hand and scratched her head as though having to think deeply on the question, “Jeffrey would know.  Pink pills, make me happy, green ones make me sleep.” she shook her head, “Or is it different ones ?  I can’t remember.  Ask Jeffrey.”

 

She sat down again now, and bowed her head,  the mumbling continued and while they stood there she began to sing, snatches of verses from a song she had sung before.

 

Adam nodded at Soames and together they turned and walked away, the words of the song followed them, but not a single note showed that she had noticed their departure or cared at their going.

 

“What do you think?” Soames asked as they reached the clean air on the upper deck and walked towards the port side.

 

“I’m not the Doctor, Soames.”

 

“As a layman though, your opinion could be of value.”

 

“I don’t see how.  So far as I can see she isn’t really - well - she isn’t really lucid, is she?”

 

Soames ran a hand over his brow,

 

“I think Jeffrey was giving her drugs, and that she has become so dependent on them that she can’t function sensibly without them.  She obviously had a good supply of them before she came on board but has ran out now.”

 

“So if that’s the case, what are you actually intimating, Soames?”

 

“She’s not mad, but -”

 

They paused as O’Brien walked towards them, he smiled at them both, his eyes, handsome and large in an attractive face, shone

 

“We’re approaching San Francisco now - we’ll be there in only a few more hours.”

 

Adam nodded, excused himself and joined company with O’Brien, as they walked towards the ladder leading to the bridge O’Brien asked what was the matter

 

“Is there a problem with Mrs Pelman?”

 

“Isn’t there always?” Adam replied with a sigh of such weariness that O’Brien couldn’t help but glance over at Soames who was watching them from the lower deck.

 

“She’ll be someone else’s problem soon.”

 

“Thank goodness for that -” Adam murmured and took his position on the bridge, his hands clasped behind his back and his face in the direction of land.

 

   

Chapter 107

 

The Baltimore was anchored some distance from the harbour and Hathaway was despatched to consult with the harbour master to ensure a berth and to send notification to the proper authorities that they had arrived.

 

Watching the launch being rowed to the harbour both O’Brien and Adam watched from the starboard side with mixed feelings.  Certainly both felt relief and pleasure at the thought of seeing loved ones again, but for Adam was also the concern over his prisoner.  He pulled himself away from the ship’s side when he noticed Soames stepping out of the sick bay, and having beckoned  the doctor over asked him if he had attended upon Mrs Pelman since their last visit.

 

“Yes, sir, I’ve given her a sedative.  I thought it would be better, in case she got a little bit hysterical.”

 

“Hysterical?” O’Brien turned now, his eyebrows raised, “Why should the woman become hysterical?”

 

“Well, women do tend to become a little strange in their fancies at times, sir.” Soames replied rather blandly, before turning once again to Adam, “Is there anything else you need, Commodore?”

 

“Thank you, no.”

 

The two Officers watched as the Doctor left them, O’Brien shook his head,

 

“A strange man, Adam, one can never be sure what’s going on inside his head.”

 

“I agree, but I think a lot of it has to do with his concern over his patient.  After today he won’t be seeing her again.”

 

O’Brien said nothing to that but cast another concerned look over at Soames who was talking to one of the Marines.  He turned back to look over at the harbour, and smiled slowly, his thoughts on his wife, and then he shivered slightly when he remembered their last meeting together at that very same harbour once before, he turned to Adam,

 

“Another déjà vu moment, huh?”

 

“Yes, I think so -” Adam replied slowly and his eyes swept over the view before him, searching, as he always did, for the mountains and imagining the journey from there that would take him home.

 

They talked in quiet tones, sharing memories and future intentions, while they watched as the launch reached the harbour and Hathaway mounted the steps to the harbour masters offices.  The seamen in the boat waited with the oars in the upright position.

 

Adam turned his head slightly to glance up at the bridge to where Davies was standing at the helm.  He wondered if the big man had his own memories of that dreadful day when the Ainola was destroyed and nine lives snuffed out as a result.  He turned back to O’Brien and listened to his friend before making his excuses and returning to his cabin.

 

Now in the cabin Adam found himself wandering to the window and this he pushed open.  The sounds of the gulls, the yelling of seamen and the noise of feet above his head, the smell of the sea, seaweed, tar oil and smoke - all combined to evoke within him memories of that previous time and he found himself wishing more than ever that he had been able to take the ship to Washington after all.

 

He walked slowly to the desk and began to remove personal items, letters, various oddments, the black leather gunbelt and holster with the gun still there.  He held it in his hands and balanced it carefully there for a moment before placing it down on the desk. There would be his books, and  his clothes and he ran his hand across the spines of the books on the shelf, turning as the door opened to admit Scott.

 

“Did you need anything, sir?”

 

“No, thank you, Scott.”

 

The man nodded, and as quietly as he had come, closed the door behind him.  Adam resumed pacing the cabin, his head bowed and hands clasped behind him.  If only Jamieson had written to him himself, if only things were never left so cryptic, and if only the whole conundrum of Cassandra Pelman could be resolved there and then.  He shook his head, patience, he told himself, patience.

 

………………

 

Hathaway returned with a smile and a look of relaxed pleasure about him.  The kind of look one assumes when knowing that a duty had been fulfilled and was near to ending. He reported to O’Brien that a berth had been allocated and could be taken  up immediately.   To the Commodore he reported that he was expected, with the lady, at the Naval base within two hours.  An escort would be sent to meet them.

 

Whether or not this was the news Adam wanted to hear he himself was not sure.  He nodded and saluted Hathaway, dismissed the man and looked over at O’Brien who asked if he was permitted to attend the little jaunt as well, to which question Adam answered in the affirmative.

 

The Baltimore slipped neatly into her berth at the pier, and the ropes were cast down and tethered to the bollards.  The crew were assembled on deck and told the time when the purser would pay them their salaries but until then normal duties were to be continued.

 

“You don’t look too happy at seeing the end of this adventure, Adam?” O’Brien said quietly as they watched the gangplank being lowered to the pier, and Adam shrugged slightly, raised an eyebrow,

 

“I just wish it was the end.  I don’t think one can assume that until Mrs Pelman is off the ship and I’m heading home to the Ponderosa and you - “ he smiled, deep dimples creased his cheeks, “have your wife safely in your arms again.”

 

“To be honest, the next few hours are going to drag -” O’Brien murmured and he smiled in his turn at the thought of his wife.

 

A closed carriage pulled up alongside the gangplank, a man on horseback dismounted and after glancing up at the ship as though to make sure he had the correct vessel, quickly headed up to the gangway and onto the deck.   He accepted the direction of a Marine and approached both Officers warily,

 

“Captain O’Brien, Commodore Cartwright?”  he smiled, not a young man but pleasant and amiable, “Saul Carpenter -” he extended a hand which was shaken warmly, “I’ve come to escort you to the proper authorities, and Mrs Pelman, of course.”

 

“Have you any papers on you?” O’Brien asked politely and quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Of course -” Carpenter pulled out some papers with some significantly heavy seals attached and placed them in the Captains hands while glancing thoughtfully over at Adam. He remained silent as the papers were passed over to the Commodore who looked them over and returned them.

 

“Sergeant Hinckley, will you bring the prisoner on deck, sir?”

 

Hinckley saluted and did a smart about turn, flanked by two marines he made his way to the brig.   He returned within minutes, saluted and rather red in the face, reported that the prisoner was missing.

 

“Missing?” Carpenter cried in dismay

 

“Missing?” O’Brien went pale, “How could she possibly be missing?”

 

Hinckley went pale now and shook his head, denied all knowledge as to how the prisoner could go missing, and in compliance to the Captain’s orders sent his marines to search through the ship.

 

“It’s Soames,” O’Brien hissed, “He’s behind all this -” and with a curt word of command he sent Hathaway to bring the Doctor to his cabin.

 

Adam had remained to one side all this time, his hands behind his back and his head lowered.  He barely lifted his head as Soames passed him to follow O’Brien and Carpenter to the Captains berth.

 

As they left he turned to Hathaway who had remained standing close by his side,

 

“Is my launch ready?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Come along then …”

 

It took no time to descend the Jacobs ladder down to the launch waiting on the far side of the ship, and to take their seats.  The crew applied themselves to the oars and slowly the launch widened the gap between itself and the Baltimore.   At Adam’s feet, lying between the thwarts was a well wrapped bundle which didn’t stir, except for a strand of golden hair when the wind caught at it, it drifted too and fro in the breeze like golden threads waiting to be woven into the dark cloth upon which it lay.

 

O’Brien smiled, gestured to the Doctor and to Carpenter to sit.  Scott knocked on the door and pushed it open, balancing a tray of coffee and refreshments which he placed upon the table.  Neither Carpenter or Soames said a word but waited for O’Brien to speak, when he did it was to ask them if they preferred their coffee with or without milk.

 

Chapter 108

 

Rowing with practised skill and discipline the launch made good headway to the destination Adam had selected and in no time at all it was nosing in among some other vessels some distance from the Baltimore.

 

Adam was the first to step out onto the bank, for where they had gone was well pass the built up area of the harbour.  Hathaway was next and then both men leaned forward to have the well covered body lifted into their arms.

 

“Wait for me here,” Adam’s voice was a low whisper and every man there felt such a tension trickle through them that they didn’t dare to nod or shake their heads.  They raised their oars in the waiting position and  hoped that they didn’t appear too conspicuous.

 

A hansom cab stopped at Adam’s signal, and the driver made no comment at all as Adam gave him directions, he did scowl slightly and wonder what was happening when what was obviously the body of a woman was bundled into the interior but he decided that two Officers, one of high rank, would have be the ones answerable for any misconduct and flicked the reins for the horse to move on.

 

The hansom stopped outside a tall building overcrowded by others, where smells of a different odour permeated and people hurried by with their heads down, as though it was instinct not to look up to see what their neighbours were doing.  Here Adam stepped out of the cab, told Hathaway and the driver to wait for him, and then lifted the body into his arms.

 

Behind the red painted door watchful eyes had seen his approach and whispers had trickled up and down the halls and through the rooms so that when he rapped on the door it was swiftly opened by the very person he wanted to see.  The tall thin man nodded, bowed and smiled

 

“Ha - you come in,” he gestured swiftly, and closed the door immediately, glanced at Adam and then at the woman in his arms, nodded, “You come, follow Sung Lee… how Cousin Hop Sing on Pondawosa?   You smart, velly smart in uniform, Mr Cartlight.”

 

“Don’t talk so much, Sung Lee - I need to see your father.  Is there anywhere I can put her?” he indicated the woman in his arms with a jerk of the head

 

“In here.  Venerable father come.”  Sung Lee frowned, and turned quickly from the room he had indicated to Adam.

 

Very carefully Adam placed the woman down on a bed covered with exquisite silks and satins, gaudily decorated with dragons and lotus flowers.  He lifted her feet upon the bed, and then removed the cloak that had covered her.  When a movement came from behind him, he turned and with a sigh of relief extended a hand to Sung Lee’s father, who was the Uncle of Hop Sing.

 

“I need your help,” he said quietly and told Lee what they had discerned about Cassandra, the drugs, the delusions, the so called madness, “I need her to be in her right mind when I see the Government ministers who will be wanting important information from her.  Can you help me?”

 

“Not in five minutes -” came the gentle reply, and the old man’s eyes turned to the Commodore and looked at him, saw the pallor, the clamminess of his skin, and the shadows under his eyes, “You also need help, I think.”

 

“Not at the moment.” Adam waved such considerations to one side, “How long will it take?”

 

“Perhaps longer than you think -”

 

“But would you be able to do something for her?”

 

“Why you not take her to hospital in the city, get doctor to see how she is?” the black eyes were inscrutable and he shuffled his hands into the wide sleeves of his inner garment.

 

“I - I can’t trust them.  They may put her into an asylum for mad people”

 

“She is in danger?”

 

“Possibly.”

 

The old man raised his shoulders as though danger was nothing to him.  He stepped closer to the bed and took the womans pulse, felt her skin and then raised an eyelid to look into her eyes.  He nodded

 

“She has had drugs a long time, perhaps, maybe, she is mad now.”

 

“How long before you would know?”

 

The woman on the bed stirred, sighed deeply, and one arm dropped by her side to touch the floor.  Again the old man nodded,

 

“When she wakes up I will know.  You will come back for her?”

 

“Yes.  Don’t let her out of your sight, Zi-Ling Lee, and don’t let anyone take her from here unless I’m here to permit it, do you understand?”

 

The old man bowed, his braid fell across his shoulder and he closed his eyes as though to emphasise his agreement.

 

“You return - when?”

 

“This evening.”

 

“That will be good.”

 

The red door closed behind him and he hurried to the hansom, clambered in and looked at Hathaway,

 

“Everything alright, sir?”

 

“So far -” he murmured.

 

………………………

 

Sergeant Hinckley saluted the Captain and shook his head,

 

“I’m sorry, sir, but there’s no sign of the lady anywhere.”

 

“Who was the marine on duty, Hinckley?” O’Brien asked in a tone of voice that carried less urgency than Carpenter liked for he rose to his feet, only to have Soames place a hand on his arm and pull him back down into his chair, “Send him into me, will you?”

 

“This is ridiculous,” Carpenter cried, “I demand to see Commodore Cartwright?”

 

“But Commodore Cartwright isn’t on board ship,” O’Brien replied looking as though surprised at the man’s request, “Surely you must have realised that he couldn’t keep your superiors waiting?”

 

“Wait a moment -” Carpenter put out a hand as though grasping the air for facts, he then brought his hand to his brow, and rubbed it, “Wait a moment, there’s something wrong here.”

 

“Mr Carpenter,” Soames said quietly, “Do you know the condition of the lady you are looking for?”

 

“Condition?” Carpenter looked startled, “Condition, sir?  Are you telling me that she’s dead?”

 

“Well, that remains to be seen -” O’Brien muttered and turned his gaze to the door which opened to admit a rather gangly youth with a spotty face and rather myopic eyes, “Ah, step inside, young man.”

 

………………………

 

Admiral James Barlow looked up and smiled.  There was no doubting the sincerity and warmth in his eyes as he saw Adam striding towards him, and he rose to his feet and walked around his desk to offer his hand, which Adam accepted and shook before sitting down in the seat offered him,

 

“An interesting voyage, Captain?  Or is it Commodore now?” his voice held a chuckle in it, and when Adam confirmed that he was now considering himself a Commodore, Barlow chuckled outright.  “So, you came here instead of going to Washington?”

 

“I had news from Mr Bingham that there were too many people interested in my passenger.”

 

“Hmm,” Barlow frowned, “Bingham knew that, did he?”

 

Adam made no reply but kept his eyes fixed on a picture just above Barlow’s head, it was interesting, he thought, that although Pelman had been replaced nothing in the office had changed.  He lowered his gaze to meet the inquisitive gaze of the Admiral,

 

“My report on everything that has taken place is here,” he placed a leather bound wallet on Barlow’s desk, “I’m afraid Hampton died, Captain O’Brien nearly died, but he and the Baltimore are safe.  Of course, you would know that already -”

 

“Yes, we know that.” Barlow nodded.  “Where is Mrs Pelman?”

 

“Is she to stand trial?”

 

Barlow frowned, raised his eyebrows and then released his breath, he shook his head,

 

“She’s going to be granted amnesty if she agrees to tell everything she knows about what has been happening, since her husband had the power to - “ he made a gesture with his hands which was self explanatory, “the President has already despatched people here to see her.”

 

“Can you rely on them?”

 

“Yes, one of them is the Secretary of State himself.”

 

Adam raised his eyebrows as though doubtful himself, but said nothing.  He clasped his hands together, and frowned,

 

“When will they arrive?”

 

“Tomorrow.”

 

“I shall bring Mrs Pelman here then, tomorrow, mid -day.”  he stood up and looked at Barlow, “Will this amnesty cover everything she has done - even a murder, and two attempted murders since boarding the ship?”

 

Barlow looked amazed, he stared at Adam as though in disbelief and shook his head,

 

“Murder?  But - I don’t know -” he frowned, “I should imagine it would, Adam.  The Government really wants this information, and it’s imperative that they get it.”

 

“What about justice for the men she’s killed?”

 

“There are different forms of justice that are administered, some are for those who have died, and some are to protect others who may die.  Do you understand me?”

 

“Would it matter if I didn’t?”

 

Barlow sighed deeply, he extended his hand and when Adam took it in his own, Barlow gripped him by the wrist with his other hand,

 

“There is a higher form of justice, Adam, that she will never be able to evade.  Have faith.”

 

Adam nodded, but looked unconvinced.  He took his hat and placed it smoothly over his head, then paused and turned

 

“By the way, Admiral, who is Saul Carpenter?”

 

Chapter 110

 

When Adam returned to the Baltimore he went immediately to O’Brien’s cabin where he found Soames reading a book and smoking his pipe, and O’Brien checking the accounts in order to proceed with paying the crew.  They both looked up at Adam with innocent expressions on their faces, which broke into wide smiles,

 

“Either that man is the stupidest man in all of San Francisco or he just didn’t know how to call us liars to our faces -” O’Brien said as he rose to his feet, “How did you get on?  Was the package safely delivered?”

 

“Yes, yes, she was,” Adam lowered himself into the vacated chair, “How long did you manage to keep him here?”

 

“About an hour.”  Soames replied, closing his book slowly and looking thoughtfully at Adam, “Did you get to see the Admiral?”

 

“I did.”  Adam ran his fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck, he closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled deeply, before opening them again and smiling at them both, “Mr Carpenter is a man with a florid complexion, of middle age, grey haired and bald.”

 

“Oh,” O’Brien laughed, “That’s not quite how our Mr Carpenter was at all, was he, Doctor?”

 

“Certainly not.” Soames frowned, “I hope that the original Mr Carpenter - and I’m presuming that you got the description from the Admiral himself - but I hope he hasn’t come to any injury.”

 

“I have to get back to Sung Lee’s and see how Zi-Ling is getting on with Mrs Pelman.”

 

“May I come with you, Adam?” Soames got to his feet and smiled amiably, “Out of professional curiosity if nothing else.”

 

“I have to pay off the men,” O’Brien muttered rather regretfully, “When do you see the Admiral again, Adam?”

 

“I have to deliver the package tomorrow - mid-day.”  Adam smiled, shook O’Brien’s hand and quickly left the cabin, followed by Soames who glanced at Daniel and raised an eyebrow before giving a brief nod of the head.

 

Hathaway was ready and waiting, and after a quick glance around to make sure they were unobserved the three men descended the Jacob’s ladder into the launch.  Once again the men rowed their way to the part of the harbour that would take them to the Chinese quarters of the city.  This time Hathaway was given orders to return to the Baltimore.

 

For a moment Adam didn’t move as  he watched the launch make its way across the waters, the moon was shining now, a day had passed and the black waters of the harbour were patterned by a myriad spangles of light from that silent witness in the night sky. Then he turned quickly, hailed a hansom and both men were soon on their way to Sung Lee’s home.

 

…………..

 

Zi-Ling Lee bowed low when introduced to Soames, he felt it a privilege when a man of medicine from the western world presented himself, whether out of curiosity or a sincere desire to learn from him, didn’t really matter.  They were men cut from the same cloth with the same desire, and that was to heal those who were sick.

 

They followed him towards the back of the house where, upon approaching a door, he paused and turned to them,

 

“In China we say ’Yuan Mu Qiu Yu’ - climbing a tree to seek for fish -” he looked at them, realised there was no comprehension in their faces and sighed, “The woman you bring here, she has taken drugs for many, many years, to cure her now is like climbing a tree to seek for fish.”

 

“You mean, it’s not possible?” Adam said with a sincere note of disappointment in his voice.

 

“Not possible to cure in few hours or few days.”  The heavily hooded eyes rose to meet his, “She walks on a tightrope -”

 

“From which she could fall either way at any time?” Soames murmured.

 

“Yes, Doctor, that is the case.” Zi-Ling bowed, then turned to Adam, “You need her to be sensible for some time?  I have done what I can for her -”

 

“You mean, you’ve given her more drugs?” Adam said quietly

 

“I have given her what she needs if you wish her to be a sensible woman.”

 

“But it won’t last?”

 

“No -”

 

Adam rubbed his chin anxiously before glancing at Soames who kept as professionally bland an expression on his face as possible, Adam’s eyes turned to Zi-Ling and then to the door, which the old man pushed open.

 

Cassandra was seated  at a table eating some fruit, and upon their entering the room she frowned, then sighed and put the peach she was eating down onto the plate, before leaning against the back of the chair with a slight pucker of the lips,

 

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, Commodore, but it’s becoming rather boring.”

 

“I thought you would enjoy your change of scenery , Mrs Pelman,” Adam smiled and sat down on a chair opposite her, he picked up a grape and began to eat it, he nodded, “Good fruit, better than when you were on board ship.”

 

“The old man, he gave me some medicine.  It’s made me tired, I don’t want you here for long, so just tell me why you’ve come?”

 

“I came to tell you some good news.”

 

“That’s good, I like the idea of some good news.” some colour flushed into her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled.

 

“You’re not going to be tried for treason, or for anything else in fact.  The President is prepared to grant you an Amnesty. Do you understand what that means?”

 

She laughed, put her head to one side and looked at him,

 

“Do you really believe that, Adam Cartwright?”

 

“Sadly, yes.”

 

She frowned, raised her eyebrows and shrugged,

 

“Why ‘sadly’?”

 

“Because I wanted you to go on trial -  and to face the consequences of what you’ve done, it seemed the just thing to do, but -” he shrugged, “You have an Amnesty.”

 

“On what conditions?”  she looked from Soames to Adam, and then smiled, “There are always conditions attached, no one gets something like that for free.”

 

“I’m to take you to the authorities tomorrow, they’ll ask you some questions and expect honest answers from you.  That’s fair, isn’t it?” he looked at her, deep dark eyes searched her face for some sign of the madness that was there just hours earlier, but in the candlelit room there was no sign of anything but Cassandra Pelman as he had always known her.

 

She picked up the peach and turned it over and over between her fingers, her lips pouted and she smiled,

 

“Will Jeffrey have a pardon too?”

 

“Jeffrey’s dead.”

 

“Well, then, one of those post - post what do you call them things then.” she frowned and put the peach back down, “It’s hardly fair to him if I - I talk about things.”

 

“May be not, but he’s not to know, is he, but you  - you have a chance to start life all over again.”

 

The words hovered in the air, she pushed the plate away,

 

“I’m tired, I need to sleep.”

 

“Of course,” Adam rose to his feet, “Good night, Mrs Pelman,”

 

She didn’t say anything but followed them out of the room with her eyes.  When the door closed, she folded her arms upon the table, placed her head upon them and wept.

 

………………

 

Zi-Ling was waiting for them, he nodded agreement to what Adam requested of him, and then led them both to a room near by, which contained two beds and very pleasant surroundings.   Adam took from his outer jacket pocket a gun, which he set down upon a table, he smiled at Soames look of amazement,

 

“In case we were followed,” he said quietly, “Although I doubt if anyone could get in, Zi-Ling and Sung Lee will see to that -”

 

“What if Mrs Pelman tries to escape?” Soames glanced around the room, peered through a blind that was draped across the window, “I didn’t notice any lock on the door.”

 

“She won’t escape.”  Adam’s deep voice reassured him, and he carefully removed his jacket which he folded across the chair.

 

For a moment he had to grip the back of the chair while trying to pretend he was listening to the Doctor, but waves of dizziness, vague feelings of faintness, wafted over him.  ‘Stupid, did  you really think you could get away with doing no harm to yourself ?  You’re not Hoss Cartwright, you know’  and he wasn’t sure whether he thought the words or whether someone else h ad said them to him.

 

When he opened his eyes again light was coming through the window and Zi-Ling was smiling down at him with sparkling dark eyes that looked like black pools.

 

“You sleep well, Adam Cartlight?” he said in his lilting voice and nodded as though answering his own question.

 

Chapter 111

 

Familiar smells that reminded him of home.  Hop Sings cooking and laundry were foremost and a faint smile drifted across his lips, while he closed his eyes and slipped back into sleep.

 

“How long will he sleep like that?” Soames whispered to Zi-Ling who only moved to the window to look out into the street where already there came the sounds of a community awakening and preparing for the new day.  “Anything out there we should be concerned about?”

 

“No.”  Zi-Ling turned and shuffled his hands into his wide sleeves, he looked like a venerable monk, which, at one time, he had been.  He now returned to Adam’s bedside and nodded, “He needs to sleep so that his body can heal, but he won’t, soon he will tell himself he has to do something and his mental powers now are stronger than his physical.  This woman worries him.”

 

“The whole situation worries him.” Soames sighed, and turned slightly at the opening of a door through which Sung Lee appeared to join them at the bedside of the sick man, he nodded at them and raised his arm to display the crisp clean clothing for the Commodore to wear, this he placed on the back of the chair before leaving the room.

 

“This one always searches for new ways - always was restless - he reaches one goal only to stretch out his hand for another.” Zi-Ling sighed, and shook his head slowly from side to side, “Why is this woman so important to the - situation?” he eked out the last word as though there was something more significant in its meaning.

 

“I don’t know all the background, goes back a long time apparently.  She caused his previous ship to be destroyed, men were killed.” he frowned, perhaps, by relating the story it was at last becoming real to him, the beast that lurked behind the beauty revealed and tangible to him at last, he now walked to the window and looked out, “She was involved in some corrupt deal with Russia, a diplomat was killed as a result, along with some seamen, and others.  Then she murdered a man, and tried to kill Adam, twice.” he glanced sidelong over to Zi-Ling who was standing with head bowed and in deep contemplation, “Could it have been the drugs?  You said she had been using drugs for a long time.”

 

“Yes, I think so.  But -” he paused and shook his head, “Some people are born seeking that to which they have no right, she is one.  Her brother it seems, from what she has said, was another.  Together they walked a road that has led her here, for him - it led to death.”

 

“Is there any hope for her?”

 

Zi-Ling shrugged and before he could say anything more the man in the bed stirred, opened his eyes and with a slight frown furrowing his brow stared at the ceiling with that intense look a person assumed when waking in a place totally unfamiliar to them.

 

“Adam Cartlight?” Zi-Ling leaned forward and smiled, “You wake?  Have much to do, yes?”

 

Adam stretched his eyes, rubbed his face and nodded.  He saw Soames in the background and raised a hand, nodded, then looked at Zi-Ling

 

“What happened to me?”

 

“What you expect?  You have hole in body, bleed all time, carry woman long way … you think you not suffer, you think you walk away unharmed?”

 

“Now I know where Hop Sing gets it from -” Adam muttered and rubbed his face a bit more, “My head aches -”

 

Soames decided to wade in with his share of the scolding, explaining that Adam was fortunate to have only a head ache to complain about, he’d sustained a serious injury, obviously far more serious than Adam appreciated.

 

“Where’s my clothes?” Adam cut through the rhetoric from the doctor on realising he was naked, and his wound well bound with clean bandages again.  He pulled on various articles of clothing before asking Zi-Ling about his other patient,

 

“Woman sleep well.  She will be able to do what you wish of her.” came the quiet and rather irritated reply, which caused Adam to pause and look at the old man with a frown,

 

“You disapprove?” he asked, pulling on his pants and hurriedly buttoning things up.

 

“It is not for me to approve or disapprove.” Zi-Ling sighed, “There are things that have to be done for the good of many which is not always to the good of the one.”

 

Adam nodded, a slight frown still on his face, as he more slowly buttoned up his shirt,

 

“I don’t know if she has ever done any good for anyone else in her life,” he murmured, “this will be quite a novelty for her.”

 

“It happens that sometimes a person is born with an evil heart.” Zi-Ling stepped aside for Adam to reach out for his jacket

 

“I’m not going so far as to say that about her, just that she’s selfish to the core, and wouldn’t dream of doing anything unless there was an advantage in it for her.”  he rubbed his face again, “Zi-Ling, did I smell something cooking?”

 

Zi-Ling’s face creased into smile, he nodded, bowed and indicated that his visitors followed him.

 

……………………..

 

The crew had been paid off and only a few retainers remained on board the Baltimore.  O’Brien woke to the new day and walked up to a deserted deck.   The bridge was empty, no one stood at the wheel, and no men yelled over to one another as they worked on the decks below.

 

Scott had prepared a breakfast, and O’Brien had eaten it hurriedly, but now, on deck, he wondered why he hadn’t taken it more leisurely.  There was nothing to do now but wait.  He glanced at the sky, he pulled out his watch, it was still early morning and hours to go before mid-day.

 

He paced the deck and pulled out his watch again, then paced the deck a little more.  Hours to go yet, he told himself and without a second thought grabbed at his hat, and hurried down to the pier.  A hansom cab was hailed and he quickly snapped out an address and then settled inside.  Once there, and without a qualm of anxiety or conscience he allowed himself to dwell on the one person who occupied his mind now, his dearly beloved Maria.

 

……………………….

 

Hester stood at the stage depot and looked from the valise, the carpet bag and then to the young woman standing by her side.

 

“I wish you would stay, Victoria.” she said and bit her lip because she had resolved not to say it again, having repeated it almost a hundred times since she had been told Victoria was leaving that morning.

 

“I can’t stay.” Victoria replied with a strength in her voice that Hester hadn’t realised she possessed, “I’ve explained to you, to Joe and to everyone else who has asked, the reasons why I can’t.” she turned now, and relented a little, she took hold of Hester’s hands and then leaned forward to kiss her cheek, “Look, Joe needs someone much better than me.  I’m wrong for him, Hester.”

 

“But he loves you.”

 

“He thinks he loves me, but he doesn’t really.  He loved Little Moon, that was real love, what he feels - felt - for me was a mere shadow of that love.  Perhaps it was just a feeling he had because he wanted to be in love …” she sighed, “I’ve loved him since he was a small boy and we were in school together.”

 

“But you don’t love him now?”

 

“I do, that’s why I’m leaving.  Hester, believe me, this isn’t easy.”

 

“You make it seem as though it were -”

 

“It isn’t.” Victoria’s mouth shut into a stubborn narrow line and the eyes hardened, she shook her head again, “It isn’t - I do love Joe, but not enough for him to love me like he loved Little Moon.”

 

“You’re jealous of a dead woman?”

 

“No, not at all.   I’m just being realistic.  It would dawn on him one day that he didn’t love me, he’d feel trapped, miserable -  something inside him would just shrivel up and die, that something that makes Joe all the wonderful things that - that makes him - oh Hester, I don’t want to leave here with you thinking I don’t love him.” and a tear trickled down her cheek and the grip on Hester’s hands tightened, “Please don’t ever think that - “

 

“I’ll write to you, Victoria.” Hester replied, pulling her hands free for the stagecoach driver was yelling for his passengers to board now, “I’ll write and tell you what’s happening.”

 

“Be happy, Hester, I know you will be -”

 

Hester allowed a small smile to play around her mouth, it wasn’t fair to smile and feel happy when her friend was so sad, but she couldn’t help herself.  Victoria stepped into the coach, glanced around the depot in the hope and equally in the dread of seeing Joe, and then settled against the back of the seat. 

 

Familiar sights flashed by, houses, stories, saloons .. All became a blur as she viewed them through tears and the inevitable dust thrown up by the stagecoach.  This then was goodbye and she knew, deep in her heart, that it would be forever.

 

Chapter 112

 

Hester waited until the stagecoach was out of view and the little white handkerchief could no longer be seen before she turned to walk away.   It seemed, to her, a shame that Victoria hadn’t enough confidence in Joe’s affections to stay and fan them into a true love. 

 

“Her-hum -”

 

A firm hand gripped her elbow and startled she turned, only to relax when Hoss came into view, a smile on his face and that tender look in his eyes that always had the effect of melting something inside of her,

 

“Rascal, you made me jump.” she laughed and her hand slid easily into his own, she could feel the warmth of his fingers as they curled around hers, and she squeezed them as though to let him know how she loved him.

 

“You looked as though you were halfway to Reno -” he chuckled and they walked along together to where she had hitched her buggy, “Was she alright when she left?”

 

“A little tearful, but determined to go.  I doubt if she will ever return here, Hoss.”

 

“Wal, Joe ain’t thinking on moving back east, that’s fer sure.” his brow creased, he sighed, “Shucks, I had it all figgered out on how  you’d have some female company at the Ponderosa and wouldn’t feel too lonesome there when I’m away from home.”

 

“I won’t be lonesome, Hoss.” she said quietly, “So long as I know you’ll be coming home.”

 

“Shucks, you couldn’t keep me away -” he blushed then, the ardour of his feelings had shown through what he considered to be a respectful distance, verbally anyway, “Anyhows, I guess you got Ann nearby.  Adam built the house close on by the Ponderosa so’s they’d be right near to us all.”

 

She said nothing to that, her mind still dwelling on Victoria and Joe and how things just hadn’t worked out right.   She stopped at the buggy and looked at Hoss, how she longed for him to tell her right now how he felt for her, because - she sighed - because she needed the reassurance of knowing.

 

He  cupped her elbow in one hand and helped her up into the buggy,

 

“You sure look pretty today, Mi-Hester.”

 

“Thank you, Hoss.”

 

“Don’t be sad over Miss Vicky, ‘cos she done what she thinks is right after all -”

 

“I know.  I just do though, Hoss, I just do feel sad for her, and for Joe.”

 

“Joe’s tough, he can take it.  She’ll be alright -”  he looked at her then, saw something in her eyes that reminded him of a frightened anxious fawn waiting for its Ma to come along and give it a nudge, he took hold of her hand in his, and kissed her fingers “Hester, I love you.”

 

She wanted to hold him tight then, hold him and not let go, but decorum forbade such displays in the high street, she leaned forward, kissed his cheek, whispered something in his ear and drove away.

 

She had never believed that she could have found love so easily, so quickly, and feel so passionately.  Her heart was singing as she drove towards Ann and Candy’s home, singing with the pure pleasure of being loved.

 

……………………

 

Maria O’Brien still couldn’t believe that she was sitting beside her husband.  She held his hands so tightly that it was almost painful. 

 

“Pinch me,” she said playfully after a short while had elapsed, “Pinch me so that I know this isn’t a dream.”

 

“Can I kiss you instead -” he had laughed, and leaned forwards, taken her into his arms and kissed her, then stroked her hair, smelt it a lock of it, wound it around his finger, kissed her again.

 

To think, Maria closed her eyes, to think that this morning she had awoken and felt such despair.  How quickly things can change, how quickly.  One moment she was unable to eat her food from misery, and then Mr Frobisher was saying , ‘Maria, you have a visitor here to see  you’ and she had turned and Daniel had walked in.

 

Daniel - thinner and wearier - and she had knocked over a little side table to reach him before he vanished, like a mirage, from her view, and even the tinkling of breaking china hadn’t stopped her from leaping into his arms and holding him tightly.

 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered now, “I still can’t believe it.”

 

“I can’t either, to be honest, I sneaked away.  Adam will no doubt guess where I am, but may well wonder.” and he laughed, because even Adam Cartwright couldn’t stop him from being here, and he kissed her wrist, “Maria, I was so sorry that I got you involved in all this and - and for what happened to you, and our child.”

 

She leaned forward, put a hand to his mouth and shook her head although her eyes filled with tears now,

 

“It’s done, darling, there’s nothing we can do now to change it.”

 

“At least the persons responsible for what happened are met up with justice - divine justice.” his voice was lowered, and he sighed  “When I received your letter to tell me what had happened, I couldn’t really feel inside me - the loss - I could only think of you, and what you had suffered.”

 

“Don’t speak about it any more, Daniel.” she whispered, and a tear did trickle down her cheek, which he brushed gently away, “I try to think of it as a bad dream, and now that you are here again, I know it will be easier to believe it so.”

 

“I should have left you in France, but -”

 

“Hush,” she leaned forward, if words wouldn’t stop him, then perhaps a kiss would, better still, more than one kiss.

 

…………………

 

Cassandra raised her head as the door opened and Adam stepped inside with a faint smile on his mouth, as though anticipating trouble but hopeful that he may be wrong.  She stood up, and looked at him thoughtfully,

 

“I want to apologise, Commodore, I was quite rude to you yesterday evening.”

 

“Apology accepted, Ma’am”

 

“You’re right, this is better than that stinking ship you kept me holed up in for so long.  The food’s been good, in fact, the service has been very good.  I actually slept well, without dreams.” she frowned then, as though something had just occurred to her, “That’s the first time I’ve slept without dreams for a long time.”

 

He said nothing, but stood at the door way and watched her as she picked up a cloak and carefully put it around her shoulders, then her gloves, pulled on slowly, methodically, as though her thoughts were far away elsewhere and all this was purely mechanical, a means to preparing herself for outside.

 

“I’ve a hansom waiting for us.”

 

“Just the two of us?”

 

“No, Doctor Soames will be coming as well.”

 

“Oh, but he’s so dour.” she sighed and stepped forward, then paused, “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing or not. I don’t think Jeffrey would approve.”

 

“Whether he would or not is hardly the point, Ma’am, the fact is that you only have one life to live, and if you don’t want to live it in a cell -” he paused, frowned, and stepped aside to let her pass him by.

 

Soames was there by the door of the hansom and assisted her into the cab, he then stepped into it followed by Adam who closed the door behind them.  As he sat down he took from his pocket his revolver, which he placed upon his lap, his hand upon its handle.

 

“Do you expect to use it?” Soames asked anxiously,.

 

“Only if I have to,” came the slow reply in the Commodore’s deep clipped voice.

 

Cassandra looked from the gun to the man, she saw the stern set of his face, the dark eyes, noticed the glint of silver threads among the thick black curls of his hair and frowned thoughtfully. 

 

“It feels as though you have been doing all my thinking for me over the past few weeks, Commodore.”

“I doubt it, Mrs Pelman.   It certainly wouldn’t have been in my plans to have you shoot me.” his lips parted in a grimace, downturn of the handsome mouth, a turning away of the dark eyes as though he didn’t particularly enjoy her company.

 

She, in turn, looked over at Soames who had been regarding her steadily ever since they had boarded the cab, now he looked away and out at the street.  She thought back to that time as she was hanging onto that ladder from the ships side, she wondered now how she had ever had the strength to do such a thing, and she remembered how on the way back up the ladder Adam had been behind her, forcing her feet onto each rung, helping her hands find the next hold.  How had she repaid him ?  It had happened all in a flash of panic and fear, when her mind suddenly seemed so full of noise and emotional turbulence that she couldn’t think straight.  She put a hand to her head now and shielded her eyes from them.

 

“Are you feeling alright, Mrs Pelman?” Saomes asked kindly, leaning forward and touching her arm,

 

“Yes, I am just a little confused, that’s all.”

 

Adam sighed, the sigh was audible, as though he were impatient to get the matter over and done with, and she felt a sudden feeling of fear as she looked at him, the fear of wondering if she would ever see him again.

 

Each one of them lapsed into silence.  The sound of the horses hooves on the road echoed in their heads, each one of them deep in thoughts of their own.  

 

Chapter 112

 

As they neared the doors of the large building before them, Adam slipped the gun back into his jacket pocket so subtly that Soames wasn’t even aware that it had disappeared until he had looked for it.   Flanking either side of the woman they entered the building and when a guard approached, Adam murmured something in his ear, at which the guard inclined his head and indicated that they followed him.

 

Their steps upon the marble floors echoed sharply in the vastness of the building.  Occasionally a door opened and someone would drift out, glance at them and continue on their way.  Everyone occupied knowing what they were doing, where they were going - Cassandra felt her throat going dry, her legs began to tremble and she reached out to touch Adam’s arm.  Immediately he looked down at her and raised a dark eyebrow

 

“I’m frightened.”

 

“There’s nothing to be frightened about -”

 

“I don’t know where I’m going, what I’m to do or say -”

 

“Just do as your told and answer the questions they ask of you.”

 

“I don’t want to be here.” she stopped, planting her feet firmly together in protest, “I want to go now.”

 

“You have nowhere to go to, Mrs Pelman.”

 

She looked at him, the appeal in her large eyes, always so lovely and luminous, shone out at him.  He looked over her head and at Soames, who, embarrassed, looked away.

 

The guard had turned and approached them,

 

“This way, Ma’am, if you’d just follow me.”

 

They walked on in silence.  Soames looked from right to left of him and wondered what on earth he was doing there, while Cassandra summoned up some reserves of stubborn pride and decided to face up to whatever came.  Adam, staring at the back of the guard, kept his mind as blank as he possibly could for he knew that once he started asking questions about the foreseeable future for the wretched woman, he could well find himself on very shaky ground indeed.

 

The large double doors at the end of the corridor opened  up for them and Admiral Barlow stood  up, walked around the side of the desk and approached them.  He saluted in response to Adam’s salute, and then turned to Cassandra

 

“Mrs Pelman, as beautiful as ever.  I remember you that time several years ago when you held a party for that English couple, Lord and Lady Lutyens,, wasn’t it?”

 

“That was some time  back, Admiral, what a wonderful memory you have -” Cassandra smiled, she fluttered her eyelashes, she was transformed into the Cassandra Pelman of the past and the nervous timid woman of just seconds ago had gone;  Adam pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows while Soames just stared and remembered, in time, to close his mouth before the Admiral was introduced to him.

 

“If you would come this way -” Barlow said, folding Cassandra’s arm through his, “Doctor, if you would like to take a seat here, someone will bring you something to drink.  Commodore, if you would come with us.”  he smiled down at Cassandra “If I recall rightly you were wearing the most charming fox fur stole, I remember it because my wife insisted I found her one exactly the same.”

 

Adam glanced at Soames, rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly, before he turned to follow Barlow and Cassandra out of the room, and into a corridor that led to another less formal room.  Here several men were obviously awaiting their arrival, and all rose to their feet at their entrance in accordance to the etiquette required of them.  A tall man approached and looked at her thoughtfully, took her hand and bowed politely over it,

 

“Mrs Pelman.”

 

“Sir.” she smiled coquettishly, and glanced at  the assembled men, “My goodness, what memories of past days this brings to mind.”

 

“I’m sure it does, Madam.”  he led her further into the room and to a chair, “Now, do sit down, we shall have some refreshments very soon.”  he glanced over at Adam who was standing at ease with his hands behind his back, very much as though he were standing on the bridge of  his ship.  “But, if you’ll excuse me, for a moment, I have something private to discuss with Commodore Cartwright.”

 

She gave a slight twitch of the shoulders as though it hardly mattered and turned her attention to the other gentlemen who were now coming towards her.  The Admiral, Adam and the other man now left the room and entered a small ante-chamber,

 

“Commodore Cartwright -”

 

“Sir -” Adam straightened his back, he wasn’t exactly sure who this person was but recognised the tone of authority when he heard it, for some reason it had the resonance of his father’s voice.

 

“Henry Wilson at your service, sir.”

 

Adam nodded, there was a vague nebulous memory of the name from somewhere in the back of his mind, but it vanished even as he shook the other mans hand, then the memory flooded back.  There had been the scandal of the Credit Mobilier that had rocked the Grant administration in the early months of the year, and Massachusetts Senator Henry Wilson had replaced Schuyler Colfax as Vice President and Secretary of State, with Schuyler leaving under a cloud.

 

Wilson was well built man, clean shaven and his hair thinning, he was a man with friendly almost paternal features, a pleasant smile and a firm handshake.  During the Civil War he had devoted enormous energy to the destruction of slavery and the politics behind such evil.  He had been voted by fellow Republicans to office even though he was already a sick man.

 

“President Grant speaks very highly of you, sir.”

 

“Thank you, Mr Wilson - Mr Vice President -”

 

“Hmmm, you must be wondering why exactly I’ve come this far to meet  up with a woman like your Mrs Pelman -” Wilson smiled slowly, seeing from the steel in Adam’s eyes that such a description wasn’t exactly pleasing to the younger man, “Well, I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to give you much in the way of details except to say that she does have some very important information that it is essential we get to know.  We’re very much in your debt for bringing her safely here.”

 

Adam said nothing to that, but waited, wondering whether this was all he was going to be told, that this was, at last, the end of the assignment.  Wilson took his elbow and led him further away from the door, as though anxious that anyone close by could overhear them,

 

“I’ve read your report throughout,” he said in hushed tones, “Your doctor is of the opinion that she has been under the influence of narcotics?”

 

“Probably for many years.  Her brother, Jeffrey Metcalfe, was a doctor. He probably introduced her to them when quite young. She’s entirely dependent on them.” Adam frowned, and looked at Wilson, at the kindly, concerned eyes that looked patiently at him.

 

“And I read that she fired a rifle at you, from close range, I believe?”

 

“Not my most illustrious hour,” Adam admitted with a slight grimace, and self depreciating smile.

 

“So - in fact - a woman with whom we must exercise extreme caution?”

 

“I would say so, yes, most definitely.”

 

“Thank you, Commodore.” Wilson extended his hand and shook Adam’s warmly, “I’ll leave you with the Admiral now.”

 

Adam inclined his head and watched as the Vice President withdrew, then he looked at Barlow,

 

“This is the end of my assignment then, sir?”

 

“As far as Mrs Pelman is concerned, yes, it is, Commodore.” Barlow beckoned towards a window to which they both strolled, it overlooked lawns and a garden, blue sky and the backs of expensive properties, “You’ll be glad of some leave, I’m sure, Adam?”

 

A slow smile drifted over Adam’s lips and he nodded, “Indeed yes, sir.”

 

Barlow pulled two envelopes from his pocket, and handed them to the Commodore.

 

“For you and Captain O’Brien.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

Barlow said nothing for a moment, it was as though he were at a loss for words, he sighed, and took hold of Adam by the hand,

 

“No, young man, I should be saying to you, thank you, sir.”

 

Chapter 113

 

The tall young man running up the steps to the building drew up short as Adam approached him, slowly, one step at a time with a slightly wry smile on his lips.  Daniel pulled off his hat and looked slightly flushed with embarrassment,

 

“Adam -  I’m sorry - I know I should have been here -”

 

“It’s alright, Daniel, nothing to worry about.”

 

“Yes, but -” he turned to descend the steps, matching his stride to that of Adam’s, and turning towards the hansom cabs, “I lost track of time -”

 

Adam sniffed, cleared his throat, lightly brushed his nose with a finger

 

“Perfume, Daniel?”

 

“Perfume?” Daniel frowned, the flush turned ruddier, “Oh yes, perfume.  I - I went to visit Maria.  I couldn’t wait, Adam, I’m sorry.”

 

“I told you before, there’s nothing to be sorry about.  You weren’t under orders -” he looked up at the sky, “At least I don’t think you were.   Anyway, the main thing is that Mrs Pelman is with the people who need her information, and she’s safe and sound.  Dr Soames is discussing her medical history with a very eminent doctor who’s come all the way from Pennsylvania, so he’s as merry as a cricket.” he smiled and placed a  hand on Daniel’s shoulder, bringing him up short just as they reached the sidewalk, “And this is for you, courtesy of Admiral Barlow.”

 

Daniel grimaced, accepted the envelope and looked at Adam, who tapped his breast pocket to indicate that he had also received just such a letter.

 

“So, our assignment is over?”

 

“I don’t know, I’ve not opened the envelope yet.”

 

“What do you intend to do now?”

 

“Well, I hope to be able to send a cable to my family and prepare them for my return home.” Adam’s smile widened and the dark eyes brightened, he looked at Daniel and winked, “But first I’m going to finish off that bottle of whisky in my cabin on the Baltimore.   Do you want to join me or would you prefer to rejoin your wife?”

 

Daniel laughed and shook his head,

 

“Well, if it’s an order -”

 

“Not at all, I wouldn’t dream of ordering you to do any such thing.  You must do as  you wish.”

 

“I’ve my own personal things to collect anyway - so I’ll help you with that bottle of whiskey, Adam, and then rejoin my wife.”

 

Adam hailed a cab and once inside took out the envelope, looked at Daniel and raised an eyebrow

 

“On the count of three?”

 

“Sure -” Dan held his envelope on the ready

 

“One - two - three -”

 

The envelopes were torn open and the orders removed and smoothed open.  The smiles faded momentarily as they read what was written and then rather sheepishly they glanced at one another,

 

“What orders do you have?” Adam asked Daniel quietly as carefully folded his back into the envelope.

 

“Two weeks leave and then to take the Baltimore to Washington.”  he smiled, and looked at Adam, “Well?”

 

“A  months leave, then to report back here for further orders.”  he frowned slightly, and sighed, then looked at the houses as they passed them by, “Well, a months a good amount of time, I guess.”

 

“You were hoping for an indefinite leave ?”

 

“I had that allowed last time, after Alaska.” he smiled, and slipped the envelope back into his pocket, the cab rocked to standstill and he pushed open the door, “Come on, let’s go finish that whiskey.”

 

……………………

 

Cochise cropped at the grass and even though there was some distance between his rider and himself, the sound of his chomping on the grass was loud, it seemed to go round and round in Joe’s head until he had to put his hands to his ears in an attempt to shut the noise out.

 

He liked to come here, a quiet spot, he could see the waters of the lake through the trees, and watch clouds scud through the sky.   Then he could reach out his hand and touch the words on the gravestone … he did that now, his fingers caressing the carved words, chiselled out all that time ago and smoothed by the light touch of their fingers over the years, for his were not the only ones that came to linger there.

 

He didn’t feel any need to speak, not like he once did, he just liked to sit there and feel that he was with someone who understood, would be familiar to the needs and wants of his heart, and would be - would have been - ready to console and comfort.

 

“Joe?”

 

“Oh,, hi, I didn’t hear you coming.”

 

“I can be quiet when I need to be -”

 

“Sure, I know that, I guess I was too deep in thinking about things to pay any attention.”

 

“An Indian could have had your scalp by now -”

 

“I guess.”

 

Hoss came and sat down beside his brother, not before he had gently caressed the name on the gravestone, smiled a gentle remembering kind of smile.  He sat down and his hip touched Joe’s they were that close.

 

“Did - did she get away alright?”

 

“Yeah, sure she did.”

 

“Oh, well , I see -” Joe lowered his head and plucked out a blade of grass, he shrugged slightly, because their shoulders touched Hoss was aware of the action even though he was looking out at the lake.

 

“Hester tried to get her to change her mind, Joe, but she said it was the best for you both if she went back.”

 

“Yeah, I guess she’s right at that.” he tossed the grass away, “There must be a curse on us Cartwrights, Hoss, we never seem able to get a woman, and when we do -” he paused, remembered Hester and winced, then turned to Hoss, “Except you, brother, you deserve the best and looks like you got her.”

 

“Yeah,” Hoss grinned, he looked shy and blushed a little, “Yeah, doggone, looks like I have at that.”

 

“Have you set the date yet?” Joe sniffed, and rather hastily ran the cuff of his sleeve across his nose,

 

“What? For getting married?  Shucks - no, I haven’t.  But it’ll be soon, soon as possible.”

 

“This weekend?”

 

“D’you reckon it could be this weekend? Sure would be cutting it fine, wouldn’t it?”

 

“Don’t see why not, Hoss.” Joe smiled, and wrapped  his arm around Hoss’ shoulders, “It won’t take that long to set up a wedding party, would it?”

 

“Yeah, but - I  sure would have liked it for Adam to have been here.” Hoss sighed and his shoulders slumped, “It’s a special time, he should be here.”

 

“Yeah, well -” Joe pursed his lips, grimaced and shrugged, “He ain’t, is he?”

 

……………………

 

“You know, Daniel, I hope my next command isn’t a tin tub like this -” Adam leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs, resting his feet upon the table and lifting the glass of whiskey towards the ceiling, he squinted at it, as though to catch the reflection of light upon the amber liquid.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with the Baltimore.” Daniel declared, unloosening his jacket by several buttons,

 

“No, except that she isn’t a clipper ship -”  Adam frowned, narrowing his eyes and wrinkling his nose, “The times I’ve stood on the deck of this ship and looked up to see billows of smoke and steam, getting covered in grit and soot -”

 

“Aw, come on, you never did -”

 

“Did too -”  Adam smiled and took a sip of whiskey, swilled it around his mouth and swallowed it, “But on a ship like the Ainola, for instance, when the sails were full and she was catching the full glow of the setting sun on the sheets, you have to admit, there’s nothing like that for grace and beauty on the sea.”

 

“She was a special ship, alright.”

 

They nodded agreement at what had been said, and Adam leaned forward to pour out some more whiskey into their glasses when there came the sound of feet pounding upon the boards in the corridor.

 

“Someone sounds in a hurry.” Adam observed slowly, and out of habit, put his hand to the jacket pocket wherein he had his gun.

 

A quick rap on the door and before either man could speak it was thrust open,

 

“Commodore Cartwright, Admiral Barlow sends his compliments to you, sir, but requests that you come with me immediately.”

 

“With you?” Adam rose to his feet suspiciously and then relaxed, recognising the Admiral’s adjutant, “Of course.” he looked at the empty glass, frowned and put it down on the table, looked over at Daniel, “I’ll see you later, Daniel.” he said, and smiled.

 

 

 

Chapter 114

 

It occurred to Daniel O’Brien that it was strange the way Adam had taken his gun belt from the desk and carefully buckled it around his waist, tied the holster against his thigh and then slipped the gun into it as calmly as though donning an outer jacket.  It was all, Daniel remembered, part of Adam’s personna, of what he was and had been, but for a seaman strange and indicative of a change in the wind.

 

His first instinct was to stay where he was, collect his things together and return to his wife, but putting that aside he had risen to his feet and followed the Commodore who had walked with long strides towards the carriage awaiting them on the pier.

 

Soames was standing in the entrance hall with the marble floors, high ceilings and looked nervously at everyone who happened to enter through the doors, when he saw Adam and Daniel he hurried towards them as quickly as he could,

 

“This way -” he said urgently, “they’re waiting for you.”

 

Adam didn’t bother to ask exactly who they were, but followed the adjutant and the doctor without question.  As the doors of the big office opened  up the Admiral and Vice President rose to their feet,

 

“Commodore, we’ve hit a problem.”  Wilson said slowly, gesturing to a chair which Adam declined by remaining on his feet.

 

“Mrs Pelman?” he asked although it was more statement than question.

 

“Yes, Mrs Pelman.” Barlow’s brow furrowed into deep gullies of anxiety, “We felt it was better to take her somewhere that held less memories for her than here, after all, her husband have oversight for some years and -”

 

“To cut it short,” Wilson interrupted, “we took her down to the vehicle that was to take her, and us, elsewhere, and while we were getting things arranged here - when we went to step into the vehicle she had gone.”

 

Adam said nothing, he looked at Soames and raised his eyebrows, but Soames just shook his head,

 

“She was perfectly fine, Adam, perfectly.” Soames said quietly and looking plaintively at the other men as though he felt the burden of blame was being pushed onto his shoulders.

 

“She was very courteous,” Wilson volunteered the information freely, “charming in fact, and she answered some preliminary questions perfectly well.  Then I realised that she was beginning to talk more about social events, memories attached to when her husband was here.  It was my decision to move her from here to a safer and more congenial place.”

 

“She went willingly enough -”

 

Adam just looked from one to the other, before asking them what exactly he was expected to do about it.

 

“My assignment was to bring her here, which I’ve done.  I didn’t expect to be called upon to locate  her again now that you’ve lost her.”

 

Wilson gave a slight shrug of the shoulders,

 

“Who else knows her as well as yourself, Commodore?   We don’t want to involve the authorities more than we need, it has to be contained between ourselves, the fewer the better.”

 

“Do you have any idea of whether she was alone when she left the vehicle?”

 

“She was quite alone.”

 

“No one came to her side of the coach and helped her out, and then into another vehicle?”

 

“No, not at all.”

 

“You must have left her on her own quite some time then for her to feel confident about getting down from the coach, and then - “ Adam shrugged, “walking the length of the drive to the hansom cabs.”

 

“No, she couldn’t have done that,” Wilson said quietly,”she would have been seen.”

 

Adam walked to the window and looked down upon the gravelled paths and lawns,

 

“And you’ve looked everywhere?”

 

“Everywhere.”

 

“So what do you want me to do?”

 

“Find her, of course, and bring her back here.” Wilson replied with a touch of arrogance in his voice.  The cool tone and bearing of the other man touched his pride and being the man with the highest authority in the room he was beginning to feel like he was the inferior of the two, and he didn’t like it.

 

Adam passed his hand over the lower part of his face, and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

 

“No one just disappears.” he said quietly, he turned to the adjutant, “Get me a horse, would you, the quicker the better.   Soames, are you sure she was -”

 

“Yes, she was just fine, and when I saw her, she was quite happy and relaxed.”

 

Adam raised his eyes to heaven and then turned to the Vice President and Admiral, he saluted them both and without a word left the room leaving the two men looked at one another in bemusement.

 

Outside once more, Soames led them to where the coach stood in the drive, it was obvious that no other vehicle had passed although there was sufficient room for one to have done so.  Adam glanced at the gravel, and then at the lawned area that led to a shrubbery.

 

“Your horse, sir.”

 

The deep voice of the groomsman broke the silence, he took the reins and without hesitation mounted into the saddle, then with a twist of the wrist he turned the animals head, paused only when Soames stepped forward to prevent him from riding off,

 

“Do you know where she’s gone?”

 

“I’ve a fair idea.  I may be wrong, I’ll let you know when I get back“

 

“Yes, but where -” Soames cried but there was no answer as Adam urged the horse into a canter and by the time he had reached the main road he was riding low in the saddle at a good gallop through the traffic.

 

Wilson and Barlow watched him as he finally disappeared from sight, then turned away, Wilson shook his head,

 

“Goodness, Admiral, what has the navy done to deserve someone like that…” and his tone of voice was not one of admiration but one  of despair.

 

“Commodore Cartwright is one of our best officers, sir,” Barlow replied slowly, taking his seat behind the desk and wishing that the President himself had been there instead of this ponderous Vice President, “I have the utmost respect and admiration for him, as does the President.”

 

“So I’ve heard -” Wilson replied dourly, and he returned to the window in an attempt to trace the horseman, when he was unable to do so he shrugged, “Well, I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”

 

To that comment Barlow declined to answer.

 

………………………

 

Ben Cartwright gave his prospective daughter in law a quite spontaneous and warm hug, and then kissed her on the cheek

 

“Are you sure, Hester?   We don’t want you to feel that we’re stampeding you into taking on this young man, after all?”

 

“Yeah, even though we’ve been trying to for years now -” Joe quipped, pouring out a glass of fine Madeira wine into some very expensive looking glasses.

 

“I’m sure, quite sure.” Hester replied and took hold of Hoss’ hand so that she could feel his steadying grip on her fingers, “I - I’m quite overwhelmed really, to be honest. I never thought I could love someone and feel that getting married so quickly could be so right.” she gave a little laugh, rather shaky though it was, “But if everyone is happy about it -”

 

“We’re very happy about it,” Hoss replied, “Ain’t that so, Pa? Joe?”

 

“Well then, in that case, if it can be arranged so quickly -”

 

“Shucks, you’d be surprised how quickly the Cartwrights can arrange a wedding party.” Hoss laughed, and handed her a glass of the wine, he smiled and leaned forward to kiss the young woman gently, “It’ll be the happiest day of our lives.” he said quietly.

 

She smiled, said nothing but held his hand more tightly.  It was hard to believe that she would be Mrs Eric Cartwright by the time the weekend was over.

 

…………………

 

Adam couldn’t have explained to anyone why he had decided on the route he was taking now.   Years of acting by instinct probably would have meant nothing to them.  He turned the horse through the wide gateway and down a broad drive to where some stables were set behind  a big house.   A stable boy came out and caught the horse by the bridle as Adam dismounted,

 

“Is your master home?”

 

“I believe so, sir.”

 

He turned quickly and walked to the imposing front door which opened before he had had time to knock.  He nodded, one look at the white face confirmed his suspicions,

 

“Where is she, Henry?” he asked as he stepped into the hall and glanced about him, “Upstairs?”

 

“Adam - I didn’t do anything, I promise you - she just arrived out of the blue half an hour ago.  She said that she had to get something from her room.”

 

“Her room?”

 

“Yes,” Henry Eugene nodded, “She had her own private room when she stayed here.” he followed Adam into the vast  hallway and lowered his voice, “She said that Jeffrey was dead?”

 

“Yes, that’s right, he is.”

 

Henry licked his lips and gripped hold of Adam’s arm, and drew in his breath

 

“I didn’t even know she was here in San Francisco.”

 

“Don’t you work at the Admiralty anymore?”

 

“Good heavens no, after what happened with Pelman and Andre, I decided to clear out of the whole thing.  I’m doing well in business -” he paused, “Adam, don’t let this ruin things for me now, not when things are looking so good for me.”

 

Adam stepped further into the room, put a finger to his lips for silence and then pointed with a finger to the upstairs, which brought a nod of the head from Henry.

 

“Get a carriage ready for when we leave -” he whispered and very quietly began to mount the stairs.

 

He could remember the last time he had been here, not the most welcome of visitors and he remembered the time with a shudder.   He had reached the half landing and paused to listen for some sound of movement from one of the rooms but there was nothing, just a deep pervading silence.

 

Up more steps to the main carpeted landing where portraits of various people glowered at him from their gold frames as he walked pass them.   Slowly he opened one door after another, all empty until he finally came to one from where he could hear the sound of movement.  Silk rustling upon a carpeted floor, a drawer opening, closing, a sigh, a woman’s sigh.

 

He pushed the door open very slowly and quietly, and for some seconds watched her before he leaned against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest, his lips slightly pursed and his dark eyes sombre.

 

She didn’t realise he was there, she was too absorbed in searching through the drawers of various closets in the room.   Her hair was untidy, falling in scattered coils across her face, and down her back, the hem of her gown was soiled with grass stains and mud from where she had ran across the lawn into the shrubbery, and her face was flushed from nerves and excitement.  Suddenly she gave a little cry of delight as she produced from a drawer a small gilt box which she placed upon the bureau, heaved in a deep breath and then raised the lid.

 

“Leave it, Cassandra, just leave it.”

 

His voice, deep and clipped, authoritative and yet kind, broke the silence.  She turned and stared at him as though she had seen a ghost, and stepped back several paces.  The little gilt box whirred, a tinny tune trickled into the room and the tune was that of a song she had once sung … Greensleeves.

 

Chapter 115

 

Adam glanced at the box and then turned his dark eyes to look at her as she stood there, frozen in situ.  She withdrew her hand which was still outstretched towards the box, and turned to face him, the proud, haughty look on her face that had once been her trademark staring out at him,

 

“What are you doing here?”  she raised her chin as she spoke, her eyes fixed upon his face, “Who told you I was here ?”

 

“No one told me anything, Mrs Pelman, I just followed my nose.” he replied quietly and stepped further into the room, “No -” his voice deepened, became more authorities, “Just leave it where it is -”

 

“How dare you speak to me like that,” she stepped once again towards the box, her hand about to close the lid down when his fingers tightened around her wrist, “Leave me, do you hear, leave me alone.”

 

Adam frowned very slightly, all this fuss over a music box?  It seemed hardly credible.  He pulled her hand away from the box and reached out for it,

 

“Leave it alone, leave it - it’s mine -” and she brought her free hand up to wards his face, but he now caught at her wrist and holding tightly to both of them forced her backwards towards the bed, “Leave it,” she hissed, “Leave it.”

 

“What’s so important about it, Mrs Pelman, tell me that ?”

 

“Jeffrey gave it to me.” she replied raising her face in that challenging way she had, and taunting him with a flash of her eyes.  She tossed her head and her hair fell loosely across her shoulders, “Jeffrey gave it to me a long time ago.”

 

“No -” he released her slowly.  They had stepped so far back that the freeing of her hands left her with no place to go but to fall back upon the bed, “No, I don’t think you came all the way here just to collect a musical box your brother gave you.” he turned and walked quickly to the little box and picked it  up.

 

It was just a little metal box with figures that spun round and round to the music.  He looked at it, and frowned.  Then he looked over at her,

 

“What’s in it?”

 

“It’s a music box, that’s all.” she rubbed her wrists, “You hurt me -.”

 

He ignored that complaint to look more closely at the box.  He also had a musical box at home, something he held dear for the memories it held, but sentiment could only go so far, and, it seemed to him, that Cassandra Pelman was far from being a sentimental lady.

 

The turn of her head made him look behind him to where Henry was standing in the doorway.  He was staring at the music box with something like disgust on his face, and when he saw Adam looking at him, he nodded,

 

“It isn’t just a musical box.  If you take off the -”

 

“Be quiet, Henry -”

 

But Adam didn’t need Henry to say anymore, he removed the figures and lifted away the velvet floor upon which they danced and there all was revealed.  He grimaced, glanced at Cassandra and shook his head,

 

“Is this all you can think of?  What is it?  Opium? Cocaine?”

 

He held the box at arms length, at an angle, the white dust was slowly slewing out, drifting down upon the carpet, and as she ran towards him he threw the box across the room sending the powder spiralling through the air.  She stopped, froze, stood there as though her world had fallen apart before looking at him as though she had never hated anyone so much in all her life.

 

“He used to give it to her,” Henry said quietly,  “Ever since she was young.  He said it made her sparkle, so he got the best quality of it that he could and she would  hide it away in the box for when he was away, so that she would always have some close at hand.”

 

“How did you know that?” she asked, sullen now, scowling at him.

 

“How?” he laughed, a laugh that contained no warmth, no joy, “Because I used to watch you through a crack in the door all those times Andre and I visited your home, or when you were here.   Of course, I was never allowed in to join with the ‘elite’ members of the family, I was always sent off on errands, ‘do this, Henry, do that, Henry’ but I’d go and then watch through the crack in the door.  They both loved you, Andre and Jeffrey.” he turned to Adam, “They were that much older, you see, and she came into their lives like something special, because, as a child, she was special.  She was beautiful and lovely, and she would do anything they asked of her - for a reward.”

 

Adam just put the box down and looked at her, imagining the sort of child she had been, and yes, he could see that she would have been everything Henry said she had been, and she had grown up lovely, proud, selfish, and always out for a reward.

 

“I hate you, Henry.  We all hated you, all of us.” she clenched her fists and turned her back on her cousin, as though the sight of him repelled her.

 

“I know that, you all made it very obvious every day of my life.”  he shook his head, “I don’t know why I kept this room here for her, it’s my family home, not hers.”

 

“That’s alright, Henry,” Adam said quietly,   “I’ll take her away with me now.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere with you -” she snarled and turned around, looked at the door and then at him, “I’m not.”

 

“Cassandra,” Adam stepped towards her and carefully reached out for her hand, “You’re all alone now, there’s no one here to help you, except myself.  You either accept that help or -”

 

“Or -?”

 

“Lose every chance you have of making a real life for yourself.   Look, Jeffrey is dead, you’re alone.  The Government has granted you amnesty, they’ve wiped out your past, they’re prepared to give you a chance of a life, a new clean start, Cassandra.”

 

“On their terms,” she exclaimed.

 

“Yes, of course, on their terms.  They’re taking a risk with you, Cassandra.  But, don’t you think it’s worth it.”

 

There was a moment of silence, each one of them stood as though frozen in time in that small room, she shrugged, and turned her head, so Adam tried again,

 

“What’s the alternative?”

 

“The alternative?” her voice faltered, she glanced at Henry who stood resolute, and she knew there was no hope of her finding a place in his home now, perhaps there never had been.   She looked at the powder that was sprinkled upon the carpet, the powder that had always made  her feel so strong, powerful and yet - and yet she knew that there had been a price to pay for all of that, and her dependence upon it was stronger, stronger than ever.  She could have wept at its loss, and she knew that had Henry and Adam not been standing there she would be on her hands and knees now licking it up.  She shivered,

 

“I don’t know …” she said quietly.  “do you?”

 

He nodded, his eyes on her face, and his own face drawn, as he thought of the alternative future she would have, and she could see it in his eyes, in the way pity and disgust fought a conflict upon his face and she lowered her head,

 

“Alright, if you know so much, tell me.”

 

“I’ll do more than tell you, I’ll show you -” he said and he took her by the elbow and led her from the room.

 

The carriage was waiting, the horse had been tethered to the back.  If the driver was surprised by Adam’s request he didn’t show it, well, not much.

 

They left Henry standing at the front door of his home, and slowly left the row of houses upon Nobs Hill.  It didn’t take long before the driver was threading the carriage through narrow streets, where hovels and shanty cabins huddled close together.  Here were the women who plied for trade, and the goods they sold were their bodies and the wages were any form of drug they could get their hands upon.  

 

Bodies too thin to be beautiful anymore, too emaciated by lack of food because their only nourishment were the drugs they craved.  Pale, haggard, greasy faces, with lustreless hair, clinging to door frames, hanging out of brothel doors, lounging at the windows. 

 

Adam sensed when she had had enough of the sightseeing tour, he rapped on the roof of the vehicle and the driver turned it carefully, and then very smartly urged the horses to get out of the area as fast as possible.

 

She didn’t speak.  He helped her from the carriage and stood by her side as they mounted the steps to the building.   When they went through the doors he turned to her,

 

“Doctor Soames is a good man, Mrs Pelman, he’ll do everything he can to help you.”

 

She said nothing to that but bowed her head and walked by his side as he took her through the marble floored corridors to the office where Vice President Wilson and Admiral Barlow, with the various other people who held high office, waited for her.

 

It was the end of a journey.   Cassandra Pelman raised her head, arched her eyebrows and gave a little shrug of the shoulders,

 

“Gentlemen, my apologies for keeping you waiting.”  she said and she even had the audacity to smile at Barlow in a way that made him blush.

 

 

Chapter 116

 

It was Admiral Barlow who finally approached Adam and O’Brien after some hours had elapsed since Cassandra’s return to their ‘delicate’ attentions.  Up to that time both Officers had been left in the ant-room kicking their heels and wondering why exactly they had been asked to remain in the building.  Both men were wary about speaking openly in a room that seemed full of echoes and where people seemed to walk in and out looking very officious and important.

 

“I’m sorry you had to wait for so long here.” Barlow said with that ease of familiarity which meant he wasn’t really sorry at all, in fact, he had no idea as to how much inconvenience it was to them.  Time for him has passed swiftly enough for him to assume it had passed equally as swiftly for everyone else, “Thank you both for all you’ve done -” he looked at Adam and extended his hand to him, smiled, “Adam, I’m really grateful for your help.  When she disappeared like that I couldn’t think of anyone else to call upon who could have helped so readily.  You’re a true credit, sir, to your commission.”

 

Adam nodded, gave a slow dry smile, and returned the Admiral’s handshake with a warm one of his own.,

 

“I hope  you find she was worth having, sir.” he said quietly.

 

“The information she has is invaluable -” Barlow replied in a very low voice, “I can’t tell you -”

 

“I would rather you didn’t, sir,” Adam straightened his back, and picked up his hat, “Make sure that you can tell the wheat from the chaff, sir, I’m afraid Mrs Pelman is a well practised liar.”

 

“I believe you,” Barlow laughed, although he looked rather embarrassed at doing so, “Enjoy your leave, gentlemen.”

 

He returned to the other room, and the two men watched the doors close behind him and then glanced at one another.  O’Brien raised his eyebrows and Adam pursed his lips into his customary pout,

 

“Let’s collect our things, Daniel -”

 

“And finish that whiskey -”

 

“There must be Irish in your blood, Daniel -”

 

“With a name like O’Brien how could you ever doubt it?”

 

They shares a companionable chuckle, and if O’Brien noticed Adam’s hand move quickly to where the bandages covered his wounds, he never referred to it.

…………………

 

The door of the house opened wide and Martha Frobisher gave an exclamation of delight at seeing Adam standing at her doorstep.  Like a great moth she fluttered over to him and enveloped him in a hug that was so warm that O’Brien laughed and said, jokingly, that he hoped his wife would greet him as warmly.

 

“Come on in, oh, what a lovely surprise.  Are you staying in San Francisco for long?”

 

She pulled him into the house, where instantly Julian appeared and with a smile approached the Commodore and shook his hand warmly, while in the background Maria ran from a side room and threw herself into her husband’s arms.

 

“Not for too long, overnight if that is alright?”

 

“Alright?  My dear boy, it’s a pleasure, a pleasure.” Julian always repeated himself for emphasis, and looked at Adam with twinkling eyes, “Come along in, my boy, we  have things to catch up on.”

 

“I’ll tell cook to prepare for an extra one.” Martha called out as she scuttled down the hallway and disappeared through another door at the hall’s end.

 

“Adam?  Do you remember me?”

 

He turned to look at her, and smiled.  Gallantly he bowed over the hand she offered him, and then kissed her cheek, before looking thoughtfully into her eyes,

 

“I hope I’m forgiven for causing you so much grief, Maria?”

 

“Oh, for goodness sake,” she blushed a little and shook her head, “As though it was your fault at all.  It’s so good to see you here,  you and Daniel .. Safe and well.”

 

“How much leave do you have, my boy?” Julian interrupted, anxious that time with Adam wasn’t wasted on woman’s silly talk, and glad to notice Daniel taking his wife into the other room.

 

“A month only.” 

 

Adam followed the old family friend into the warm and comfortable room, and sat down at the chair indicated for him.  He cleared his throat

 

“Well, Julian, how are things on the Ponderosa?  Are my family well?”

 

“So far as I’m aware, perfectly well.  Ben may or may not know just who redeemed the mortgage, but your brothers have no idea at all.  I think it took Hoss a few days to realise the Ponderosa was really safe, despite the low price they paid for it.”

 

Adam smiled, and leaned back carefully,

 

“I had a feeling that my Pa would realise it was me, but I had hoped that he wouldn’t have done so.” he sighed and stretched out his long legs, “I’ll be glad to see them all again.  It always seems to be so far away when I’m at sea.”

 

“The Ponderosa?  Oh yes, I’m sure it is … do you think you could resign and leave the sea altogether?”

 

Adam frowned, stared thoughtfully at a framed picture of a ship rearing out of a frosty blue sea,

 

“It’s strange - it’s like a man who has a wife but keeps a mistress.  While with his wife, he longs for the passions of his mistress and while with her, all he desires is the comfort and security of being with his wife.” he sighed, smiled a little wryly at his own words and looked at Frobisher, “Does that make sense?”

 

“Perfectly, although I have to add a rider to that by assuring you that I have never, personally been in the position of having a mistress.” and he chuckled but in a way that strengthened Adam’s conviction that for all  his charming ways, the older man had a true and abiding marriage.

 

Chapter 117

 

When he awoke in the morning he had a slight fever, and after rummaging about his belongings he eventually located the small pouch containing the herbs he sought. He took a pinch of them, and then leaned against the dressing table for the effect to eventually take place. As he stood there, his eyes closed and head down, he wondered just how close he and Cassandra Pelman were at that precise moment in time. She, addicted to her drugs, and he - well - he gave a slight snort of self contempt at the fact that he had so eagerly sought for the relief from these herbs. Herbs, drugs ... what difference?

The light headedness that came to ease the pain trickled through him and for a moment he thought he was going to fall, but managed to keep upright. He looked down at the pouch with a slight frown, and then heaved himself away from the dresser and towards the ewer and bowl that the girl had filled with warm water for his ablutions.

As he glanced at his reflection in the mirror he saw Daniel standing in the room behind him; he reached for his shaving gear and as he did so wondered how long the other man had been there, he crooked an eyebrow

“Am I late for breakfast?”

“Not that I know of -”

“Good -” he lathered up the brush and met Daniel’s eyes through the mirror, “What?” he asked

“That wound of yours isn’t healing right, is it?”

“It’s healing, just taking time that’s all. That horse ride yesterday didn’t do much good.” he applied the soap to his jaw, working the soap well into the stubble, but his eyes kept flicking over to where Daniel remained standing, until he put the brush down and turned to face him, “What?” he repeated.

“You should get a doctor, get a second opinion.”

“Nonsense.” Adam shook his head, and resumed his lathering up, “I’ll be leaving after breakfast. What will you be doing?”

“I thought I should come with you, make sure you get home safely.”

“Oh, I’m sure Maria would love that, you’ve only just got back to her and now decide to take a trip to the Ponderosa instead of staying with her here. No, I don’t think so, thanks all the same.” he dabbed some soap under his nose and surveyed his reflection again, although his eyes flicked over to look back at Daniel.

“If you don’t want me to accompany you, Adam, at least let me get Soames back here, or another doctor to just check that everything is alright.”

“Everything is alright. Look, it may have failed your notice, Daniel, but I have had more wounds of this kind than most, and the only thing that really hurts just now is the fact that Cassandra Pelman was the reason I got this one. Now, go away and let me get on -” he picked up his razor and flourished it in the air “This is serious business … go and look after your wife.”

Daniel said nothing more to that, he gave his friend a worried glance and left the room, leaving Adam to sharpen his razor on the leather strop and wonder why the young man had entered the room in the first place.

…………………..

 

Breakfast was over and in the big comfortable study where Julian liked to retire with a book and coffee when not working, Adam listened to Julian’s description of the day Ben found that his beloved Ponderosa had been sold.   He was a wonderful host, and an excellent raconteur, and knew just how to embellish the tale enough to make Adam laugh or become concerned, and when the tale ended Adam wasn’t really sure whether he should be crying or laughing.

 

“So, apart from Pa, whom you suspect has guessed who purchased the Ponderosa by redeeming the mortgage, no one else knows.”

 

“Only myself and the Bank Manager.  But such matters are confidential.  I don’t expect Ben to ask you directly, but -” he put a hand on Adam’s shoulder, “don’t be surprised if he does.”

 

Adam glanced up at the clock, and rose to his feet, he winced a little, just a little, but enough for Julian to notice,

 

“Adam just before you leave here, I was wondering if you would do me a favour.”

 

“Certainly, if I can -” Adam turned to his father’s old friend with a smile,

 

“Would you see my doctor, just for a few minutes.”

 

“Certainly, why?  What’s wrong with him?” Adam’s smile tightened a little and the dark eyes narrowed.

 

“He’s a good doctor, it’s just that Martha and I noticed that you were not looking too well, and then Daniel mentioned that you had been shot -”

 

“Some time ago now.  It’s healing.  Believe me, Julian, it’s nothing to worry about.”

 

“Martha’s concerned.  You know what women are like, Adam, and Martha loves you dearly.  She asked me especially to try and persuade you to see Doctor Clements.”

 

Adam fidgeted and glanced to the door as though measuring out how many steps it would take to escape, but even as he thought such a thing it opened and an elderly man entered, with the familiar black bag in his hand.

 

“Dr Clements, this is Commodore Adam Cartwright - Adam, Dr Clements.”

 

Introductions having been made, Clements approached with the determination of a dog hunting out a bone, he smiled, a friendly smile to be true, but with intentions of steel behind it.  Adam had no choice but to acquiesce to Clements examination.

 

………………………….

 

“We could both go with him -” Maria said in a low voice as she sat beside her husband in the Frobishers comfortable sitting room.

 

“Are you sure?  It won’t be the most pleasant journey and the way station is a lot different to a boarding house or hotel.” he took hold of her hand and smiled into her eyes.

 

“Oh, darling what would that matter, so long as I was with you and if you think -” she paused as a loud ‘ahem’ intruded upon their conversation, and together they turned to observe Adam standing at the door, he smiled at them,

 

“Well, children, are you being good?” his tone was slightly mocking, a little sarcastic, Maria gave her husband an anxious look to see his reaction to such a question.

 

Daniel rose to his feet,

 

“We were just discussing coming along with you, Adam , it would be just great for Maria to see the Ponderosa, we’ve spoken about it so much, and she’s just itching to see it for herself, aren’t you, Maria?” he prompted, nudging her slightly with his foot

 

“Yes, certainly.”

 

“That’s very good of you both, and you know you are both welcome at any time.  However” he glanced over at the clock and raised his eyebrows in mock horror “Look at the time, I shall miss my connections if I don’t hurry now …”  he grabbed Dan’s hand and shook it warmly, “Take care, Daniel, no doubt we shall meet again soon.  Enjoy your leave.  Maria -” he kissed her cheek and looked into her eyes, smiled, “Take good care of yourself, and of him -”

 

“I will -”

 

“Adam -” Daniel stepped forward

 

“No, Daniel …” he turned and left the room, “Goodbye, Captain, Mrs O’Brien, see you again soon.”

 

They heard his steps going quickly down the stairs, the murmur of voices as he bade farewell to Martha and the sound of a door closing.

 

“I don’t think he wanted us to go with him, Daniel, do you?”

 

Daniel was already at the window staring down at the street, he saw the broad shouldered body of his friend enter into a hansom cab, his face at the window glancing quickly upwards and a brief smile, a wink and the lift of a hand, and then he was gone.

 

 

Chapter 118

 

“Hoss, will you stop pacing the floor like that, you’re making me nervous.”

 

“I’m making YOU nervous?  How’d ya think I feel ?  I AM nervous.  Ain’t that why I’m pacing the floor.” Hoss ran his hands through what little hair he had left, thanks to the skill of the local barber and genetics, and turned to his father, “Pa, is it natcheral for a guy to feel this nervous before he gits married?”

 

Ben calmly lowered his book and surveyed the two brothers thoughtfully, then nodded,

 

“Very natural”  he looked with sympathy at them both and resumed reading, until Hoss put a finger in the middle of it and lowered it down again, he sighed and closed the book, “Well, I can remember when I was getting married to Elizabeth.  I was so nervous I nearly wore a hole in the floor, just like you are now, Hoss”

 

“Did you ever think of running out on her?”

 

“No.”  Ben paused for thought and then narrowed his eyes and looked at his son thoughtfully, ”Why?  Are you?”

 

“Shucks, no, Pa.  It’s just that I sure wish that I could just go down and collect Hester in the buggy and bring her right back here without all that thar shenanigans -”

 

“We’ve made it as simple as we can, Hoss.  What more do you want?” Joe chuckled, and looked over at his father before continuing with his task of giving his social best shoes an extra good polish.

 

“I know. I know.”  Hoss flapped his hands up and down a little like an oversized canary attempting an escape break out of its cage.

 

“It’ll be a wonderful day,” Ben said quietly, hugging his book close to his chest, “When Elizabeth and I got married it was slightly overcast, cloudy,  but the sun shone through from behind the clouds just at the right moment.”

 

“Were you married in church there, Pa?” Joe asked, inspecting his face in the shine of his shoe and then picking up the next one.

 

“There was a small chapel there, some of her friends had decked it all out with flowers.  I remember -” he paused and frowned, and then sighed, “Elizabeth was always surprised at the kind things people did for her, she never realised just how many friends she had, nor how easily she made them.”

 

Joe and Hoss glanced anxiously at one another, Ben didn’t talk often of his wives nowadays, and the last thing either of them wanted now was for their father to become maudlin. 

 

“Guess it was different with my Ma.” Hoss said before realising he had just dug the hole deeper.

 

“Oh, yes, well, everything was different in connection with Inger.  Adam was there …” his voice drifted off, he sighed again at the memory of the earnest little boy who had done all he could to smooth down his black curls for the special occasion, a bit of spit did wonders, or so he had been told.

 

Another lull in the conversation and Hoss began pacing again, Joe brushed his other shoe more vigorously before looking up at Hoss and grinning,

 

“Good thing elder brother ain’t here, huh?   Guess he’d -”

 

“He’d what?” Hoss scowled

 

“Nuthin’”

 

“Yeah, you was about to say something, Joe, so you had better say it right hereon in.”

 

“I was just thinking of those other times we nearly managed to get you married off and then elder brother comes along and puts his word in and everything falls apart at the seams.  That’s all -” Joe shrugged and tried to look innocent as he swivelled his eyes from his father to his brother.

 

“Dadgum it, Joe, you sure are making me more nervous than ever now - how’d you expect me to get any sleep tonight?”

 

“Well, talking about sleep -” Ben stood up and stretched, “Time for bed ..”

 

“Yeah, think I’ll get to bed too,” Joe put down his shoes, and polish, “Best get a good nights sleep behind ya, Hoss, it’ll be the last time you git to have that bed all to yourself now.” and he grinned, winked and slapped his brother on the back before following his father up the stairs.

 

Hoss gulped.  He looked around the room and noticed the few changes that Hester’s coming into the family had already made, then he relaxed, smiled, and slowly turned to the stairs as the old clock struck the hour.  He couldn’t believe it, tomorrow would be his wedding day.

 

…………………

 

Ben prepared himself for sleep but found it elusive.  His mind had got set into a furrow that it seemed determined to follow … Elizabeth, Inger, Marie.  He thought of them, he visualised the days he had married them, he could imagine the smell of the flowers in the chapel where he had married Elizabeth, he could sense the touch of Inger’s hand upon his arm and see the wide eyed expression of joy in Adam’s eyes, and then there was Marie with her wide smile and the perfume she wore.

 

He sighed and pushed aside the covers of the bed.  For a moment he stood beside the bed as though wondering what to do next but then turned, picked up a lamp and left the room, to push open the door into Adam’s room.   Despite Hop Sing’s care of the room, it had that smell of disuse.  After only so many months, he thought, what if he never came back home?   He swallowed hard on that thought and raised the lamp to look around it as though to familiarise himself with the contents and with the person who had occupied it for so long. 

 

Perhaps, one day, Hoss’ children would occupy this room - he shook his head - no, not while he lived.  He walked to the bedside table and placed the oil lamp down in order to pick up the music box.  He just held it gently in his hands and rubbed his thumbs over the little cherubs.  Elizabeth - Adam -

 

“Are you alright, Pa?”

 

He turned to observe Joe standing in the doorway, a candle dripping wax on the floor. He nodded, and put the music box down.

 

“I just wish your brother wasn’t so far away, Joe.”

 

“It’s odd, how we ain’t heard no word from him for so long.  Usually something comes through by now, don’t it?”

 

“Doesn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Joe grinned, and he looked at the room, at the shadows in the corners that crept closer towards him, “I miss him too, Pa.  It’s going to be different, isn’t it?  Having a woman in the house again.”

 

“Yes, yes, it will be different.” Ben glanced now at his youngest son, and smiled slowly, then put his hand on his arm, “I’m sorry about Victoria, son.”

 

“Thanks, Pa.   She was a very perceptive young woman though, she probably knew me better than I know myself.”  he turned, glanced at Ben again, “Goodnight, Pa.”

 

…………….

 

Hester Verlaine brushed her hair carefully, thoughtfully, and smiled at Ann who was folding away a very pretty night gown into her case.

 

“I feel more nervous than I did when I was marrying James.” she said quietly,

 

“You knew James far longer than you’ve known Hoss,” Ann walked towards her and then began to carefully braid the thick hair while she watched her cousins reflection in the mirror, “But you don’t have any doubts at all, do you?”

 

“That’s what is so strange, I have fewer doubts about marrying Hoss than I ever had when marrying James.  I think I am just worried about how I will fit in there, I mean, those men have been together for so long, and Hop Sing keeps giving me some very strange looks …”

 

“Well, it will all be a journey, won’t it?  You’re all going to discover new things about your lives, and, anyway, you could always get Hoss to build you a house of  your own if it doesn’t look like it’s working out.”

 

“Mmm, it was obvious the eldest son had no intention of living cheek by jowl with his family once he had married whatsername ..”

 

“That’s true.” Ann laughed, “But then we don’t know what she was like, do we?  Perhaps she insisted on a house of their own.” she turned her head at the sound of Rose crying and shrugged, “I’ll have to go.  Good night, Hester.”

 

She sat in front of the mirror for a little longer to stare at her reflection, she wasn’t beautiful, and no one had ever said she was, but Hoss  had found something beautiful about her, and his love had already healed a myriad aches in her heart.  She sighed, stood up and extinguished the candle flame.

 

Chapter 119

 

Hoss was awake early that next morning.  He remained in bed to listen to the sounds that had woken him for more years that he cared to admit to, and knew that as from now he would be hearing things differently.   He heard the cockerels crowing, the sounds of horses in the corral, the sound of his father walking along the landing to go down to the main room. 

 

He gulped slightly and spread out his arm to one side of the bed to feel the customary coolness of space.  The thought that next time he did that he would feel another body beside him gave him a little shivery feeling that forced him to get out of bed and prepare himself for the coming day.

 

He walked to the window and peeked outside, and then sighed contentedly. There was no doubt about it, this was going to be a very special day.  Hop Sing was already loading a wagon with hampers of food and various items that would be needed for the wedding feast, and Hoss licked his lips and rubbed his hands together at the thought of all the food Hop Sing had prepared.  That Hop Sing, did he never sleep?

 

It had been agreed that the wedding was to take place near the river not far from the Canadys home.  This was the site that Adam had chosen for a woman he had thought to be his wife, but which afforded, in Hester’s opinion, the prettiest view for the ceremony, and, as it was customary for the bride’s family to host the occasion, Candy and Ann had insisted that the wedding feast be held there.

 

There was a rap on the door and Joe peered inside to check on his brother,

 

“Hey, Hoss, ain’t’cha going to start getting ready.  This is the big day now, you know.”

 

Hoss let the words sink into his brain.  The Big Day.  He turned from the window as though in a dream and smiled at Joe,

 

“Shucks, Joe, ain’t no need to git all so fired up hurrying an’ all, there’s plenty of time yet.”

 

“I know, but Pa wants you to see to the fencing down at the north pasture first.”

 

“Fencing? He ain’t said nothing about any fencing to me!” Hoss screwed up his nose, wrinkling his face  up  as a result.

 

Joe didn’t say anything more but closed the door to his laughter, Hoss heard him as he went along to the stairs.  Joe and his jokes.  He sighed, fencing, on today of all days.

 

………………

 

It was amazing where the flowers came from - garlands and bouquets hung in elaborate festoons from the banister rails, around the doorways, and were even draped around the buggy.   Nothing could have looked more colourful, more natural.  When Ann and Hester looked around at it all they couldn’t help but feel dazed by how much it resembled something out of a fairy tale book.

 

Now men were appearing to help Candy set up the trestle tables, and Hop Sing came in the wagon and took white table cloths from a basket which fluttered in the air for momentary seconds as he flipped them out and  over the tables.   More flowers appeared and the white table cloths were soon arrayed with nosegays and posies.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Hester sighed.

 

“It’s what you deserve,” Ann whispered and put her arm around her cousin in a warm embrace.

 

……………………

 

Adam had his hat over his face and stayed resolutely in the corner by the window.  He had known no other passenger, and they, after a brief salutation had not pursued any conversation.

 

At the start of his journey he had spent a while  watching  the countryside go by, and as he had done so he fleshed each scene with a memory of old friends, past adventures, his youth, Hoss and Joe, Marie.  In the late afternoon they had arrived at a way station where he had eaten his meal, sought his own company, before finally taking to the rather uncomfortable bed.

 

The day had started early and there was still a very long way to go before they reached Virginia City.  His fellow passengers remained each one of them an island unto themselves.  After several attempts at conversation no one seemed to have enough interest in the others to pursue it any further, each succumbed to their own thoughts and when Adam retreated to the corner by the window no one commented or thought it strange at all.

 

Beneath the hat his brain ticked over relentlessly as he pondered on what he would find at home.  What changes?  What differences?  Why had there been such a lack of letters and news.  Had Joe actually got round to courting that Victoria Shannon?  Had he tamed the black stallion?  What was Hoss doing?   Would Hop Sing have gone, finally said ‘I quit’ once too often and actually done so? 

 

He did doze off after a while, the suspension of the coach was hardly the best, but no worse than a ship in a gale.

 

………………

 

Ben slowly buttoned up his grey silk vest with the delicate embroidery that Marie had particularly loved.  He could remember how her fingers had traced out the patterns and she had smiled and told him how handsome he looked in it.  He had been pleased that it still fitted so well, and shrugged himself into his jacket.

 

Well, there he was - he observed himself in the mirror and smoothed down his hair - white now, no longer iron grey or just silver winged, but white all over.  He sighed. He was getting old, no doubt about it.  No one was immortal, thank goodness one of his sons was getting himself a wife, perhaps he would live long enough to see a grandson or grand daughter around the place.

 

He glanced down at the framed picture of Inger and picked it up,

 

“You’d be proud of him,” he said very softly and tried to remember the way she would smile up at him.

 

Hoss fought with his shirt buttons and had to call Joe in to help him.

 

“New fangled things,” he moaned, and held out his hands to his brother as though waiting for Joe to slip the handcuffs on him, “Them buttons are pearls, and they jest won’t go into the button holes.”

 

“Alright, alright, calm down.” Joe sauntered into the room still tying his string tie, and he shook his head, “Carry on like this and you’ll start sweating, and then you’ll stink like a skunk.”

 

“Shucks, Joe, jest git on will ya…”

 

No doubt about it, he was sweating.  He dabbed at his face with a handkerchief, before tucking it back in his pocket.

 

“Sure wish I could jest have ridden over and got Hester and not have all this fuss -”

 

“Shush, Hoss, here, let me fix your tie.”

 

“Feels more like a noose -”

 

“If you’re going to create a fuss now -”

 

“I ain’t creating nothing.  Jest git on with it.”

 

“Now you are creating.”

 

“No, I ain’t -”

 

Joe squinted and concentrated and finally got the tie fixed just right.  Then he helped Hoss into the smart new jacket that fitted perfectly, he flicked off an imaginary speck of dust and stepped back, smiled and nodded.

 

“Hoss, you look the perfect bride groom.”

 

“I do?”

 

“Yeah, you sure do.”

 

Hoss ran his finger around his collar, it was tight, but not that tight.  He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled, he couldn’t wait to see Hester …

 

……………..

 

Adam removed his hat and straightened himself up, glanced at his fellow passengers and then out of the window.  He had judged rightly, they were now just a few miles out of Virginia City.   He felt a glow of pleasure in the pit of his stomach, in a few hours he would be home. 

 

Chapter 120

 

Adam looked thoughtfully around the livery stables and gave a wry grimace.  Nothing much had changed here since his departure.  He scratched at the back of his neck and leaned slightly towards the interior of the building as he heard the sound of someone approaching,

 

“Oh - isn’t Gil here?”

 

“Nope - Gil left some time back.”

 

So, some things had changed after all. He straightened his back and slightly flexed his shoulders, stiff from sitting  cramped up against the window in the carriage for too long. He sniffed as though there was a bad smell close by, and sighed,

 

“Well, are you the proprietor?”

 

“I am, took over the bizness a few months ago.  What can I do for you, Mister?”

 

“I’ll hire a buggy -”

 

“Sure, come along in and take  your pick.”

 

Adam followed the proprietor into the murky interior of the livery and looked at the two buggies for hire, he selected the newer and cleaner of the two and stood back as the rather taciturn owner began to harness up the horses to the vehicle; he chewed steadily on a wad of tobacco, moving it noisily from one side of his mouth to the other, something that caused Adam to curl his lip in disgust. 

 

“Where you headed?”

 

“To the Ponderosa.”

 

“How long you want to hire it out fer?”

 

“Just for the trip out and back - I’ll get one of the ranch hands return it before sunset.”

 

“Yah, you do that, otherwise you pay for another days hire -” he spat a glob of tobacco juice onto the ground, just missing Adam’s boot by inches, “That your gear over there?”

 

“It is -” Adam glanced at the valise and carpet bag as though they had somehow arrived by accident without his prior knowledge.

 

He handed over the due hire fare and tossed his ‘gear’ onto the seat before taking his place next to it.  Without looking at the proprietor he flicked the reins and set the horses galloping from the stables and through the town.

 

He smiled to himself now as he felt the power of the horses coming through the reins to his fingers, he steered them round other vehicles all the time looking from left to right to make sure that he didn’t pass by a certain black and white horse that would mean his brothers were in town.  His smile broadened as he imagined their surprise when he walked in through that front door. By the time he had got out of town and was back on the open road he was whistling to himself, and enjoying the feel of the warm air brushing against his face.

 

……………….

 

“Is it alright?  It isn’t too tight is it?”

 

“No, that’s perfect, just perfect.”

 

Hester smoothed her hands down over the corset that Ann had laced up, she smiled, and took the long white stockings that she unrolled carefully and attached by the lace trimmed suspenders.  Next came the first petticoat, stiffened and wired at the bottom to make the skirts of the dress stand out.  Then she tied on the stuffed rolls of muslin that would sit on her hips, over that came the final petticoat.

 

“Now -” Ann could barely breathe for excitement and her voice held a slight tremor, “Now, for the dress.”

 

Mrs O’Shaughnessy had worked hard to produce this dress, having had such short notice, but all the admiration and respect she had held for the Cartwrights over the years had been poured into the dress that Ann now carried towards her cousin, every stitch had been sewn down each seam with loving care.

 

“Oh, Ann, isn’t it beautiful?”

 

“It’s so soft - so smooth -” Ann ran her fingers down a length of the skirt and sighed, then she turned to Hester, “Come on, we’re running out of time -”

 

They giggled together like two school girls as the dress was very carefully placed at Hester’s feet for her to step into and then inched up over the petticoats, tweaked over the corset and then arranged over her shoulders and breasts.  Button by button was nimbly positioned into place while Hester stood patiently waiting for Ann to finish.  Then they both looked at the reflection of the bride in the cheval mirror.

 

“Oh Hester - its lovely.”

 

For just a moment they just stared at the figure dressed in the ivory silk gown with its sequins and ribbons sewn into the bodice and the heavily laced sleeves that fell from elbow length.  It was a dress that emphasised all of Hester’s physical assets without being immodest or flamboyant, it was elegant, perfect.

 

“Now, the veil -” Ann lifted the tulle from its box and carefully placed it over Hester’s rich copper gold hair, after which she placed a hoop of silk flowers - pink, blue, cream and ivory, to hold the veil in place.  “Who would have thought it, Hester?”

 

Hester just couldn’t speak, she wasn’t even sure what Ann meant, she could only stare at herself in the mirror and wonder who indeed was that reflected back looking at her.

 

………………..

 

Carriages and coaches, buggies and horses, all were rolling along the road to the Canady’s house.  Laughter, giggles, shouts and halloo’s wafted too and fro as people congregated together, dismounted from their horses or their vehicles, and walked along the path towards where the wedding was to take place.

 

The sun shone and in the back ground the hills rose soft and undulating towards a blue sky, the river gleamed and sparkled as the sun light caught its surface, and every so often a bird could be heard singing.  Petals of flowers drifted in the air, their perfume rose to greet the guests as they made their way chattering to one another, greeting old friends, shaking hands with new ones.

 

Paul Martin tweaked at his tie and thought that he should have loosened his collar but accepted the sad fact that it was too late now.  He shook Ben’s hand and mumbled something that he hoped was appropriate.   Roy Coffee had had his hair trimmed for the occasion, along with his moustache, and wore his Sunday best suit with pride.

 

“You know, Ben,” he murmured, “the day would be perfect if Adam were here.”

 

He regretted saying it immediately when his friend turned his head aside as though to look over at Joe and Hoss who were standing talking to Candy, the lack of response spoke for itself. He cleared his throat and looked over at Paul who was still tweaking his collar.

 

It was odd, Ben thought as he watched his sons and Candy, but more than anything in the world he longed for Adam to be standing by his side now.   A fear, like a cold hand, clutched at his heart and he felt a weakness trickle through him as though, as the saying goes, someone had walked over his grave.

 

“Are you alright, Ben?” Paul asked quietly.

 

“I’m fine … perhaps nervous at the thought of having a daughter at last.” he grinned, his handsome mouth conveying a pleasure that belied the fears, not of having Hester at the Ponderosa, but that something had happened to his son, something and far away, so far away that perhaps it would be years before he would ever even get to know about it.

 

………………

 

Adam clambered down from the buggy, hauled down the luggage and then paused to look at the place.  There was another buggy hitched to the rail, a lone horse nodding over towards the hired pair.  He looked at it thoughtfully and with a slight frown walked to the house.  The buggy was new, slick as paint, and he speculated on who his family would be entertaining - perhaps, he thought to himself as he stepped foot on the porch, it was the young lady Joe had written about, this Vicky Shannon.

 

He straightened his jacket, suddenly self conscious and oddly shy, he wondered if he should have put on some civilian clothes rather than kept  his uniform on, he wondered if he should knock or just walk in, he wondered if they were home and so he pushed open the door and stepped into his home.

 

He put his hat on the bureau and glanced around.  Everything was quiet. His eyes went to left to right, and he noticed some changes that seemed oddly out of character with what he remembered.  An upright piano where a bookcase had once stood, a bunch of flowers on a table he had never seen before, a landscape painting where once had hung a rather ugly relic of Ben’s time at sea.  He cleared his throat,

 

“Hey - anyone - ?”

 

Nothing except a soft rustling sound, and then a whimper -

 

“Anyone there?”

 

He had lowered his voice slightly, and walked slowly towards where the sound had come from the settee, and he looked down to find an infant blinking up at him.

 

Man and child stared at one another.  The man scowled, pursed his lips and shook his head.  The child stared wider and then opened its mouth and howled.

 

Whose? 

 

What had Joe done now?

 

For heavens sake, how old was this child anyway?

 

He stepped closer and leaned down closer, he prodded it very gently in the tummy with his forefinger and the baby, eyes now beguiled by the glitter of brass buttons stopped howling in order to reach out and grab at the top button of Adam’s jacket.

 

“Well now, who are you, hey?” 

 

The baby tightened its grip on the button, so much so that Adam was forced to pick it up and hold it in his arms well aware that any attempt to detach fingers from button would have produced even louder howls.  The baby smiled a very gummy wet smile

 

A skirt rustled and Adam turned, blinked, and nearly dropped the child back on the settee,

 

“Barbara?”

 

She stood at the bottom of the stairs looking at him, a man in naval uniform, a man with broad shoulders and black hair and dark eyes holding her son, a blue eyed infant who was totally captivated now by the number of shining buttons on the jacket.  She forced herself not to think beyond her instinctive first thought which started with ’It could so easily have been …’

 

“Adam - I can’t believe it’s you.  You here - today of all days -”

 

He frowned, looked around the room, wild thoughts flashed through his mind, she had come from upstairs, why?  Was Pa ill?  Where was everyone?

 

“My son -” she walked towards them and smiled, “Come on, now.” she held out her hands and the baby reached out to her, looking longingly back at the buttons but knowing he was better off with mother, “He’s quite a handful already.”

 

“Why did you say - today of all days - what’s going on, Barbara?  Where’s my Pa?”

 

She looked at him then, her serious face took on the appearance of someone who was puzzled, a small frown furrowed her brow

 

“You mean you don’t know?” her eyes widened at the look of anxiety and, incredibly, fear on his face, “You don’t, do you?”

 

“For heavens sake, Barbara, know what?”

 

“Hoss is getting married - today -”

 

“Hoss?” he eventually stammered after a momentary silence as he absorbed the information and tried to reconcile himself to the fact, “Hoss?  But I thought that it was Joe who was courting ?   And what are you doing here?”

 

“There were some things Hester wanted brought to her -their - room.  Look, Adam, the wedding will be starting any moment.” she hurried to the door, and then turned to look at him as he stood there, as though rooted to the floor, “Are you coming?”

 

Chapter 121

 

He quite naturally took the driver’s seat while she sat by his side with the child in her arms.  He flicked the reins and turned the horse slowly in an arc around the yard until facing the track when he slapped the reins down upon the horse’s rump and set it off to wards the Canadys place

 

The Canady’s place, that was what she had said.  A frown had settled on his brow as though a permanent fixture as he stared between the ears of the horse at the road ahead.  The Canady’s place - the building that was going to be his home, his home and Laura’s and Peggy’s. The building that had began upon a dream and had nearly been the end of him.  Hoss’s wedding, his marriage, on the very site that was to have been the place where he, Adam Cartwright, had imagined himself and his wife and his future children living, playing, growing old.

 

‘Let go of it,’ he whispered inside his head, ‘Let go of it before you talk yourself into something too big to get out of.’  he glanced at her, at the infant in her arms who was now sleeping.  Then he returned his dark gaze out to face the road ahead.

 

Hoss getting married.  Why hadn’t they told him?  No note, no cable, but then how would they know where he was, had he contacted them?  He gripped the reins more tightly, and clamped his teeth together so that his jaw line contracted, tightened.  Hoss getting married - not Joe - ?  He glanced at Barbara again, but she was looking away from him, thinking of other things no doubt.  But then he didn’t want to speak to her, he wanted only to think and prepare himself for the moments ahead. 

 

“You didn’t know, did you?”

 

Her voice made him jump, startled him, he had been so immersed in memories and he shook his head, she sighed and held the child closer as the buggy bounced over a rock.

 

“How long have you been back - on land, I mean?”

 

“A few days.  I got back in town this morning.”

 

“You didn’t cable them to let them know you were here?”

 

“No, I wanted - “ he smiled in self mockery “I wanted to surprise them.”

 

“Instead you got the surprise?”

 

“You could say that -” he was still frowning, his profile was stern, remote.  His eyes merely flickered towards her before returning to observe the road.

 

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

 

“Well, at least I’ll not miss the occasion -” he replied but with no warmth in his voice.

 

Barbara said nothing to that but sat by his side and stared ahead of her, every so often she bowed her head and kissed the top of the baby’s fuzzy head.   She looked at him again and felt a tug at the heart, here he was driving them to the house that he had built with the hope of living in it with a wife and child, and driving beside him was a woman whom he had presented with a ring and marriage proposal.  Life, she thought, must seem like a mass of contradictions for him, and in some ways, it was almost cruel.

 

………………….

 

Everyone stood up when the whisper trickled through the assembled congregation that the bride was coming.  Heads turned and smiles were on every face that she saw as she passed between them down the grassy aisle towards the arch of flowers and the little platform where the Pastor waited for her.  She glanced at Candy and smiled, receiving a smile in return, for as her closest relative, even if only by law, he had been the one asked to give her away to her prospective husband.

 

Joseph looked over at her and felt a lump well up inside of him, an emotion he could not describe threatened to overwhelm him but all he could do was touch Hoss’ elbow and nod his head in the direction of the bride.  Hoss, feeling as though he were in a dream and real life had yet to touch him upon his shoulder and awaken him, turned and watched as she approached him.

 

“Shucks, Joe,” he whispered, “Ain’t she jest about the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen?”

 

“She sure is, Hoss, she sure is -” Joe whispered in reply.

 

Ben watched her as she walked towards his son and knew that he was watching a woman about to marry the man she truly loved.  If he had ever doubted the way she felt for Hoss, watching her now put any such doubts out of his mind.  His near black eyes turned to his son, and his heart beat slightly faster as he saw the look on Hoss’ face.  He’d seen it before, that look of wonderment and awe - he’d seen it on Hoss’ face when a foal was born and the act of birth had overwhelmed the young man, he’d seen it on Hoss’ face when he had first set eyes on his baby brother, now he was seeing it as he looked upon Hester, his soon to be wife.

 

Ben cleared his throat.  Standing where he was watching, for some reason he had never felt lonelier.  Joe and Hoss, standing together, turned to face the Parson and then Candy was answering the question, ‘Who gives this woman to be wed -’;   he had stepped back and rejoined Ann.  Ben licked dry lips, cleared his throat again and raised his eyes to the heavens in order to prevent the moisture in them from slipping from his eyelids.

 

Hoss looked into the face of this woman, looked into the most brilliant blue eyes and saw the freckles that now dusted her skin, the lips that smiled at him and his throat went dry.  Joe had to nudge him in the back so that he could repeat the words after the Parson

 

“I, Eric Cartwright, take thee …”

 

Hester listened to the words and could feel her heart beating so hard against the bodice of her dress that she thought she was going to faint, she had his hand holding hers, his eyes looking down upon her, and she just wanted to tell him ‘I love you.’

 

…………………

 

The buggy came to a halt behind the rows of other vehicles, and Adam clambered down, and hurried to the other side to help Barbara.  They strode through the throng of buggies, and wagons, and surreys, until they had reached the open grassland beyond which they could see the congregation of friends witnessing Hoss’ wedding.  She looked at him,

 

“Are you coming with me?”

 

“No,” he said quietly, “I’ll watch from here.”

 

She looked into the dark eyes, then nodded before she turned and quickly made her way down the aisle to join her husband.  She said nothing about the man in the naval uniform who walked quickly to the side of the group of people and watched the proceedings standing in the shadow of a large tree.

 

He could just about hear their voices from where he stood.  He saw Joe hand Hoss the ring, and heard Hoss’ voice

 

“With this ring …”

 

He saw Paul and Roy, Mrs O’Shaughnessy, and Hop Sing, he saw old friends whom he recognised, and strangers whom he did not know.  All there witnessing the marriage of his brother to a woman called Hester Verlaine.  His eyes glanced down the rows of people, there was Candy and his wife, holding a baby in her arms.  There was Barbara and her husband, who was now holding their son.  There was his Pa …

 

Adam’s throat tightened at the sight of his father standing there in his best suit, straight backed, proud.  Standing on his own before this assembled crowd of friends and neighbours.  What must he be thinking now, Adam wondered.  One of his sons getting married and life about to change, not just for Hoss and Hester, but for them all.

 

He had stayed at the back of the crowd not only in order to watch unobserved, not only because of the emotions that could betray him for he loved Hoss more than words could say, but also because he recognised that this was Hoss’ day, a special day, and he, the missing brother, had no right to stroll down the aisle and take any attention away from the bride and Hoss.

 

And yet, his father was standing alone.

 

He walked quickly now down towards where his father stood, not down the centre aisle, but pass all those who stood now with their backs turned away in order to observe the couple taking their vows.  Unobserved he made his way to the front and then stood silently by his father’s side as though he had been there all the time.

 

Ben smiled slowly when the Parson said “You are now man and wife …” and then leaned forward to whisper “You can kiss your wife now, Hoss.”

 

The crowd laughed, cheered, clapped and Ben sighed again, and half turned as though aware that someone stood beside him.  He looked at his son, smiled as though he had known Adam had been there … all the time.

 

 

Chapter 122

 

As the newly wed couple were surrounded by well wishers to congratulate them, Joe searched for his father.  Standing at his brother’s side during the wedding ceremony had caused a great wave of emotion to well up in the younger man’s heart, and thoughts of what he had once had and lost trickled like a refrain through his mind.  The first people to approach Hoss and Hester had not included his father,  and Joe felt that of all the people there, his father should have been the first to stand at Hoss and Hester’s side.

 

The fact that Ben was not soon became apparent when Joe saw him talking to a tall dark haired man who looked just like his brother Adam, so much so that Joe gave a whoop and a holler and elbowed his way through the throng of well wishers to get to him, to take his hand, to know, yes, know for sure that he was there.  His throat was tight, but he managed to mumble “Sorry”  “Excuse me” to various people when his elbows connected in rather sensitive areas.

 

Adam was smiling, his eyes looked rather vague and dreamlike, as though somehow behind them something else was going on entirely, but the smile was there, just the same as always.  Ben was holding onto one hand in a firm grip, while his other hand rested on Adam’s arm, and he was talking with a look on his face of such pleasure that Joe had to slow down his approach in order not to intrude on what was an obviously very private moment between the two men.

 

“Ah, Joe -” it was Adam who saw him, the eyes brightened and looked alert, the smile widened, and Joe bounded towards him as though he were the little boy welcoming big brother back from college. 

 

He wanted to embrace him, hold him close, but a slight awkwardness in body posture prevented him from doing so, instead he found himself shaking Adam’s hand with both his,

 

“When did you get here?” he asked, his hazel eyes fixed on Adams face and noticing that his brother had stubble, his clothes were crumpled and dusty, and he looked not just tired but, well, kind of crumpled as well.

 

“I got off the stage this morning.   If I’d known that Hoss was getting married -” he paused, no, there was little point in saying anything more, even had he known he would have been unable to change anything, he lifted one shoulder and grimaced, “I didn’t know, it was just by chance that Barbara was at the house when I got there and she told me.”

 

“You didn’t know?” Joe frowned, and glanced at Ben, who was standing like a protective sheep dog at their side, “Didn’t you get our letters?  Hoss was practically writing a journal to you …” he laughed at the memory of Hoss’ letter writing and the packages that were posted off diligently every week.

 

“There was only one mail drop, and that was when we were in Hawaii …” Adam sighed, “I guess they’re all floating out there somewhere.  Last letter I had from you , Joe, was about a black horse, and you trying to get to know a Miss Shannon more intimately. When Barbara said about a wedding today, I thought you had got yourself hitched.”

 

Joe shook his head, and slapped Adam on the arm as though to dismiss the subject, he was about to speak again when Paul Martin and several others came to welcome back the Commodore, and Joe, with a last proud look at his brother, stepped away and found himself standing next to Ben, who indicated that they should go and welcome the newly married couple into the family.

 

But now Hoss had seen his brother, he bellowed the one word “ADAM” and gripped Hester by the hand, towing her along in much the same manner as a tug boat hauls along a reticent yacht.   Adam had raised his head to look over at his brother and smiled, he excused himself from the friends who were surrounding him in order to reach his brother before his brother could launch himself at him with one of his famous bear hugs … his eyes smiled at Hester, then turned back to Hoss.

 

“Hey, brother, what have you been up to while I’ve been gone?”

 

“Didn’t’cha know?” Hoss beamed, he turned to Hester and drew her gently forwards, “Hester, my love, this is my brother, my big brother … Adam.”

 

“I’m pleased to meet you,” she smiled, her blue eyes searched his face, and his eyes looked down at her as warm as burnt treacle, her smile widened, there was nothing to fear from this man, despite his uniform and handsome looks, her blue eyes were every bit a match for his brown, “Hoss talks so much about you, Adam.”

 

“Thank you,” he took her hand and shook it, held it just long enough to signify that they were not just friends, but brother and sister now, “I’m afraid I never received any mail from Hoss -”

 

“Shucks, but -”

 

“although I’m assured that when it reaches me I shall have volumes to read about you.  It’s good to meet you, Hester.”

 

“Hey, Adam -” Hoss threw open his arms “Come and let me give you a big hug, shucks, I missed ya, brother.”

 

Adam laughed and stepped closer to Hester, he raised a hand to ward off the hug,

 

“Hey, you big lug, you just keep to hugging your wife -” he smiled down at her, “Welcome to the family, Hester.”

 

She lowered her eyes now, and looked over at Hoss and smiled.  Ann came now to kiss the bride, kiss the groom and welcome Adam home, she was closely followed by Candy, who displayed his daughter to Adam with such pride that Ann was almost embarrassed enough to apologise for him.

 

Joe watched with a bemused smile on his face and turned to his father,

 

“Good timing, huh?”

 

“Yes, excellent.” Ben replied, and put his arm across his youngest sons shoulders, and  hugged him close, “It’s like an answer to prayer, Joe. I can’t describe to you the feeling I had when I realised he was standing there beside me.” his voice trailed away, and a sadness fell like a shadow over his features, “Life is going to change now, you know.”

 

“Yeah, I know, Pa.  But it’ll be fun, won’t it?” and Joe laughed, because that’s what he wanted to see ahead in life, fun, happiness, blessings.  “They’ll be happy, Pa.” he looked at Ben who had found his smile again, “Hoss and Hester.”

 

Ben drew in a deep breath, and nodded. Yes, he was quite sure that Hoss and Hester would be happy, they were two of a kind, the kind with whom love would grow, continuously, throughout their lives together.

 

“ - let’s hope it’s a long one…” he murmured and Joe glanced at him, frowned slightly without understanding.  “I meant, I hope their lives will be long , and happy.” Ben said quickly.

 

Joe nodded, he looked over at the group around them, at Adam laughing along with Candy and Ann, holding little Rose in his arms, and at Hoss and Hester who now seemed oblivious to anyone else there, staring into one another’s eyes.  Oh yes, he thought, yes, let them have a long and happy life together. 

 

 

Chapter 123

 

“So?” Adam leaned against a tree trunk, glass of wine in hand, and smiled at his brother who had released his wife’s hand so that he could talk to his big brother, and she could go and be sociable with the neighbours, “At long last, one of us actually managed to get married.  How’d you do it, Hoss?” his eyes twinkled and he gave that familiar husky chuckle from deep in his throat,

 

“Shucks, Adam, I’m still tryin’ to figure it out myself.”  Hoss glanced over his shoulder to track his wife down and once he could see where she was, he relaxed, and turned his attention back to his brother, who found all this rather amusing for the smile on his face had broadened, and his face had  taken on a gentle, tender expression as he had watched, “I done wrote you so many letters, Adam, I even wrote and told you about Hester before I told Pa and Joe, probably -” he paused, and frowned, “probably before I even realised myself just how much I cared about her.”

 

“Well, I wish I had received them, Hoss, I would have enjoyed reading them.” he glanced over at Hester and observed her for some moments as she smiled, chatted and generally strolled around the grounds of the house stopping to talk to everyone she met, Barbara’s little step daughter trailed beside her, no doubt caught up in the fairy tale fantasy she was creating in her own mind, “You realise that she’s far too good for  you, of course?”

 

“I know it” Hoss nodded gravely, “I know it, Adam.”

 

“I wish I had known, Hoss, I would have got you some gift -” he paused and sighed, bowed his head and then gulped down some of the wine, “What happened to Joe’s romance?”

 

“Yeah, wal, that was a sad tale,” Hoss sighed, “Caleb Shannon’s reputation kinda rubbed off on her and she felt it would cause problems between ‘em, so she quit town.”

 

“Is that all?  She couldn’t have loved Joe very much then.”

 

“I think she did, I think she realised that he didn’t love her, not enough anyhow.  I reckon he’s still hankering after -”

 

“- Little Moon?”

 

“Yeah,”

 

“It figures.” he gulped the rest of his wine down and straightened up, winced, and leaned back against the tree.

 

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Hoss came to stand closer, shielding Adam’s body from anyone who was looking on, “Your hurt or something?”

 

“I got shot -” Adam replied quietly, “Parting gift from a lady.” he smiled enigmatically, and glanced at his brother, “Don’t worry, Hoss, it’s improving.  Probably the travelling didn’t do me much good -” he  sighed deeply and raised his dark eyebrows in a quizzical manner, then looked at his brother and smiled, “Don’t worry,” he repeated, “It’ll be fine.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Quite sure.” he glanced around and saw Ben striding towards them, he nudged Hoss with his elbow, “Don’t say anything to Pa.”

 

Hoss nodded and looked as relaxed and unconcerned as he could, while Adam straightened himself up and smiled at his father, then turned to Hoss

 

“Will you and Hester be coming back home with us this evening?”

 

“Nope - I’m taking my wife someplace away from you for a few days” Hoss blushed a little and both Ben and Adam exchanged a wink between them, and then laughed a little at Hoss’ discomfiture.

 

“Wal, a man has to have some privacy - with his wife, doesn’t he?” Adam chuckled and excused himself to track down his youngest brother.

 

……………………..

 

Cassandra Pelman sat in the carriage and watched the city slip away.  Under half hooded eyelids she watched and then turned to look at the men in the carriage with her, she sighed, and shook her head.  Days had passed and she had answered so many questions that her head reeled.  Questions that went back so far that she was amazed at how much her inquisitors actually knew and how much they were guessing.  It was like a gigantic puzzle where they expected her to pick up and fit in the missing pieces.

 

She smoothed a hand over her skirts, and felt soft silk beneath her fingers.  She was wearing the best of clothes, had eaten the best food and slept at the most expensive hotel, but at her door there had been a Marine on duty.  When she went into the gardens then two Marines walked several paces behind her.  She was, and she knew it, a prisoner every bit as much as when she had been on board Adam Cartwrights ship.

 

She wondered what he was doing now and glanced up to see Dr Soames watching her.  She forced a smile to her lips,

 

“I was thinking about Adam Cartwright.”

 

“Really?  How strange, so was I.”  he smiled back at her, but his eyes did not, and she shrunk back in her seat, “I was wondering if I would ever see him again.”

 

“Oh, I was wondering what he was doing.” she sighed and looked away, “Why do you think they treat me as a prisoner?  Am I one?  Am I going to be tried?  Adam said I was being granted amnesty, but surely that would mean I was free?”

 

“Once they have all the information from you that they feel they need.”

 

“Information - always the same - questions, and answers, and then - more questions.” she clenched her fists tightly together in her lap, tightly so that no one would notice how much they were trembling, but then her knees were shaking too, so that in the end she could only let out a little moan and bury her head in her hands, “I can’t go on like this -” she cried, “I need something to help me through this -”

 

The Marine sharing the carriage as her guard looked over at Soames

 

“Is she sick?”

 

“In a manner of speaking - “ Soames replied and he leaned forward and took hold of her hand , “Mrs Pelman, I can give you something that will help you to calm down, if you could just wait -”  he opened his bag and rummaged around for the sedative that usually had worked on her, but as he reached out for the phial her hand had pushed his away, and her fingers had tightened around the neck of a small green glass bottle, “No -” he leaned forward, “No, not that one -” he cried, “Guard, stop her -”

 

She laughed at them, threw back her head and laughed. Her hand moved, too fast, the contents were swallowed until she choked, unable to swallow anymore, the Marine pulled her hand away and then looked with frightened eyes at Soames as Cassandra Pelman collapsed back in her seat, while the effect of the poison she had ingested began to take its destructive course.

 

……………………………..

 

Ben stood between his eldest and youngest sons and raised a hand in farewell to Mr and Mrs Eric ‘Hoss’ Cartwright. 

 

“Do you know where they’re going?” Adam murmured, a smile aching on his face.

 

“His place - he built a cabin there some time back.” Joe replied, his eyes twinkled, he knew Adam would remember what was meant and where it would be, no further explanation were necessary.   He put a hand on his father’s shoulder and grinned, “Hey, Pa, you could be a Grand-daddy this time next year -”

 

“That’s a thought -” Ben replied turning now towards the house, the Canady’s house, following along behind those guests who still remained to wave off the happy couple.

 

Adam sighed, and looked wistfully at the house, then turned away, a beautiful view was still a beautiful view, nothing could change that, nothing at all.

 

The End