down in the hay beside the sleeping Doctor.
13
A Ducking For Ben
Across the chill, mist-shrouded waters of the firth a bell was tolling midnight. Grey, wrapped up in his cloak, and Perkins were being rowed across to the brig. As Grey clambered on deck, followed by Perkins clutching a battered portfolio, Trask leaned down and helped them aboard.
‘Mr Trask,’ said Grey.
‘Aye,’ said Trask.
‘Is everything in readiness?’
‘It is.’
‘If anyone tries the same trick,’ said Grey, ‘shoot him down immediately, Captain, do you understand?’
‘I’ll quarter him on the spot, don’t worry about that,’
said Trask.
‘I’ve had Perkins copy out three new contracts, just to make sure. We’ll need two of them signed and sealed tonight.’
Trask’s face set, his brows coming down, his face jutting out, so that Perkins, almost involuntarily, moved a pace backwards. ‘Every man jack of them will sign. If not with ink, then with blood,’ said Trask. ‘’Tis all one to me.’
Grey, making his way along towards the companionway down to the hold, turned. ‘No,’ he said, ‘you’re not dealing with slaves, man. These Highlanders have high courage and resolution. If you flog but one of them they’ll stand together and refuse to sign a thing. You’ll undo all I’ve worked for. When they’re safely sold in Barbados, they can be whipped to death for all I care – until then use a light fist, or you’ll answer to me.’
Unused to being taken to task in this way – and on his own quarterdeck – Trask bristled for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. ‘And the London deserter, what am I to do with him?’
‘Proceed with the ducking,’ Grey rejoined. ‘He will be a useful example to the rest. Perkins, go below and commence signing the contracts.’
Perkins nodded and hurried away to the companionway leading below.
Grey turned back to Trask. ‘Bring the deserter on deck.’
Meanwhile in the barn, Polly and Kirsty were sitting waiting for the Doctor. Both girls were very tired and yawning. In front of them on Kirsty’s plaid were a broken sword, a pitchfork, and a couple of rusty kitchen knives.
Kirsty yawned. ‘We could have stayed asleep for all the good we’ve done,’ she said.
‘You’re right,’ Polly groaned. ‘It’s all right for the Doctor. Give him an hour and he packs a night’s sleep in.
He’s fresh again.’ She looked down at the meagre collection of weapons. ‘We didn’t do very well, did we?’
Kirsty shook her head. ‘They wouldna take me seriously.’
Polly nodded. ‘Nor me. I hope the Doctor’s had better luck than this.’
There was a soft knock at the barn door. The girls rushed over. ‘Who’s there?’ called Polly.
‘Me,’ the Doctor’s voice came softly through a crack in the door. They pulled it open, and the Doctor entered trundling a small hand barrow covered with a piece of tarpaulin. They closed the door behind them and turned back.
‘What have you got there, Doctor?’ asked Polly excitedly. ‘Let’s see?’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘No, let’s see what you’ve got, first.’
Polly sighed. ‘Don’t tease us,’ she said. ‘Look.’ She led him over and the two girls showed him their meagre supply of weapons.
The Doctor nodded encouragingly. ‘Well, it’s a start.’
He went back to the barrow and whipped off the tarpaulin with the air of a conjurer performing a trick. The barrow was loaded to the brim with swords, muskets, dirks, and pistols.
Kirsty gave a small scream. ‘Whee!’ she said. ‘You must’ve robbed the Duke’s arsenal.’
The Doctor shrugged modestly. ‘Something like that,’
he said.
‘That’s super, Doctor,’ said Polly.
Kirsty leaned over to pick up a heavily ornamented pistol. ‘Here’s a bonnie one,’ she said.
The Doctor looked at her hand holding the pistol and then leaned over and grabbed her wrist. ‘One moment,’ he said.
‘What is it?’ said Kirsty, scared.
‘Your
13
A Ducking For Ben
Across the chill, mist-shrouded waters of the firth a bell was tolling midnight. Grey, wrapped up in his cloak, and Perkins were being rowed across to the brig. As Grey clambered on deck, followed by Perkins clutching a battered portfolio, Trask leaned down and helped them aboard.
‘Mr Trask,’ said Grey.
‘Aye,’ said Trask.
‘Is everything in readiness?’
‘It is.’
‘If anyone tries the same trick,’ said Grey, ‘shoot him down immediately, Captain, do you understand?’
‘I’ll quarter him on the spot, don’t worry about that,’
said Trask.
‘I’ve had Perkins copy out three new contracts, just to make sure. We’ll need two of them signed and sealed tonight.’
Trask’s face set, his brows coming down, his face jutting out, so that Perkins, almost involuntarily, moved a pace backwards. ‘Every man jack of them will sign. If not with ink, then with blood,’ said Trask. ‘’Tis all one to me.’
Grey, making his way along towards the companionway down to the hold, turned. ‘No,’ he said, ‘you’re not dealing with slaves, man. These Highlanders have high courage and resolution. If you flog but one of them they’ll stand together and refuse to sign a thing. You’ll undo all I’ve worked for. When they’re safely sold in Barbados, they can be whipped to death for all I care – until then use a light fist, or you’ll answer to me.’
Unused to being taken to task in this way – and on his own quarterdeck – Trask bristled for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. ‘And the London deserter, what am I to do with him?’
‘Proceed with the ducking,’ Grey rejoined. ‘He will be a useful example to the rest. Perkins, go below and commence signing the contracts.’
Perkins nodded and hurried away to the companionway leading below.
Grey turned back to Trask. ‘Bring the deserter on deck.’
Meanwhile in the barn, Polly and Kirsty were sitting waiting for the Doctor. Both girls were very tired and yawning. In front of them on Kirsty’s plaid were a broken sword, a pitchfork, and a couple of rusty kitchen knives.
Kirsty yawned. ‘We could have stayed asleep for all the good we’ve done,’ she said.
‘You’re right,’ Polly groaned. ‘It’s all right for the Doctor. Give him an hour and he packs a night’s sleep in.
He’s fresh again.’ She looked down at the meagre collection of weapons. ‘We didn’t do very well, did we?’
Kirsty shook her head. ‘They wouldna take me seriously.’
Polly nodded. ‘Nor me. I hope the Doctor’s had better luck than this.’
There was a soft knock at the barn door. The girls rushed over. ‘Who’s there?’ called Polly.
‘Me,’ the Doctor’s voice came softly through a crack in the door. They pulled it open, and the Doctor entered trundling a small hand barrow covered with a piece of tarpaulin. They closed the door behind them and turned back.
‘What have you got there, Doctor?’ asked Polly excitedly. ‘Let’s see?’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘No, let’s see what you’ve got, first.’
Polly sighed. ‘Don’t tease us,’ she said. ‘Look.’ She led him over and the two girls showed him their meagre supply of weapons.
The Doctor nodded encouragingly. ‘Well, it’s a start.’
He went back to the barrow and whipped off the tarpaulin with the air of a conjurer performing a trick. The barrow was loaded to the brim with swords, muskets, dirks, and pistols.
Kirsty gave a small scream. ‘Whee!’ she said. ‘You must’ve robbed the Duke’s arsenal.’
The Doctor shrugged modestly. ‘Something like that,’
he said.
‘That’s super, Doctor,’ said Polly.
Kirsty leaned over to pick up a heavily ornamented pistol. ‘Here’s a bonnie one,’ she said.
The Doctor looked at her hand holding the pistol and then leaned over and grabbed her wrist. ‘One moment,’ he said.
‘What is it?’ said Kirsty, scared.
‘Your
Similar Books
