is the penalty for smuggling?’ I asked, a new fear suddenly gripping me. I was aboard this ship, and I was as guilty as any of the men. ‘Is it a hanging offence?’
‘Don’t sound so frightened,’ said Will, clapping a hand on my shoulder. ‘We won’t swing unless we shoot one of the officers. It’s only imprisonment for smuggling.’
The ship slid into the narrow channel and slowed as we lost the wind. The sound of water under the hull lessened to a whisper. ‘Only imprisonment?’ I repeated. ‘That’s all right then. I’m sure I could accustom myself to prison.’
‘They’ll be hard pressed to find a jury to convict us,’ Will assured me. ‘And the chances of a case going to law are small in any case. The Preventives have to pay legal fees out of their own pocket, which isn’t a plump one. They don’t want to have to do that.’
‘So why bother to chase us?’ I asked, bewildered.
‘Oh, it looks good. They can’t sit on their backsides in the tavern all day. Most often they’ll settle for a share of the cargo or a back-handed payment. But we don’t want to share or pay.’
I felt a measure of relief seeping into me at the thought that nothing very dreadful would happen if we were caught.
‘Of course, you get a few officers who are hell-bent on stamping out the trade, no matter what the cost to them personally,’ added Will cheerfully before he strode aft to consult with the skipper.
The part of me that was a law-abiding citizen found it outrageous that the king’s men took bribes instead of combating crime. But at the same time, I hoped that whoever was chasing us right now was as corrupt as necessary. I had no fancy for a prison cell.
The channel had widened. The Invisible heeled over as she turned sharply around a small land mass, huddled low in the water to our right. ‘Otter Island,’ I heard someone mutter nearby. ‘We’ll make it yet.’
The ship slipped behind the island, but not before I saw the nose of a ship emerge from the channel behind us. The Revenue men were hard on our heels.
We made straight for the coast beyond the island. As we approached a high grassy bank, dark shapes rose up out of the gloom and ran forward to catch ropes thrown from The Invisible. Our sails were lowered in a rush of canvas and we were drawn sideways to land. The kegs and ankers began to be lowered, even before the ship had been made fast. I could make out urgent, low-voiced exchanges between the smugglers and the landers. My fists were clenched. We were about to be caught red-handed landing contraband and the men on shore would doubtless be taken too.
But the unloading was completed with remarkable swiftness and in near-silence. No sooner was the last keg off the ship than the ropes were flung back aboard and we drifted from the shore.
Our men were scurrying about the rigging and the deck once more, altering the set of the sails, working to turn the ship back the way we had come. Men were also lowering buckets into the sea; I wondered what they could be at. Jacob interrupted my musings without ceremony, pushing a bucket of sea water into my hand. ‘Help scrub the deck,’ he ordered.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Because one o’ the barrels leaked and it stinks like a tavern,’ he said as he hurried to the side to lower another bucket. Someone threw me a scrubbing brush and I went across the deck to the side where the kegs had been stacked for unloading. Sure enough there was a strong smell of liquor.
Before I began the work, I looked back at Otter Island, expecting the Revenue cutter to appear behind us at any moment, but she didn’t. I dropped to my knees, slopped some of the water out and began scrubbing. Some of the buckets were being carried down to the hold where there was clearly more cleaning to be done. No sooner was my bucket empty than it was snatched away and another was pushed at me. After three bucketfuls, my back and shoulders were aching. I straightened myself, curious to
‘Don’t sound so frightened,’ said Will, clapping a hand on my shoulder. ‘We won’t swing unless we shoot one of the officers. It’s only imprisonment for smuggling.’
The ship slid into the narrow channel and slowed as we lost the wind. The sound of water under the hull lessened to a whisper. ‘Only imprisonment?’ I repeated. ‘That’s all right then. I’m sure I could accustom myself to prison.’
‘They’ll be hard pressed to find a jury to convict us,’ Will assured me. ‘And the chances of a case going to law are small in any case. The Preventives have to pay legal fees out of their own pocket, which isn’t a plump one. They don’t want to have to do that.’
‘So why bother to chase us?’ I asked, bewildered.
‘Oh, it looks good. They can’t sit on their backsides in the tavern all day. Most often they’ll settle for a share of the cargo or a back-handed payment. But we don’t want to share or pay.’
I felt a measure of relief seeping into me at the thought that nothing very dreadful would happen if we were caught.
‘Of course, you get a few officers who are hell-bent on stamping out the trade, no matter what the cost to them personally,’ added Will cheerfully before he strode aft to consult with the skipper.
The part of me that was a law-abiding citizen found it outrageous that the king’s men took bribes instead of combating crime. But at the same time, I hoped that whoever was chasing us right now was as corrupt as necessary. I had no fancy for a prison cell.
The channel had widened. The Invisible heeled over as she turned sharply around a small land mass, huddled low in the water to our right. ‘Otter Island,’ I heard someone mutter nearby. ‘We’ll make it yet.’
The ship slipped behind the island, but not before I saw the nose of a ship emerge from the channel behind us. The Revenue men were hard on our heels.
We made straight for the coast beyond the island. As we approached a high grassy bank, dark shapes rose up out of the gloom and ran forward to catch ropes thrown from The Invisible. Our sails were lowered in a rush of canvas and we were drawn sideways to land. The kegs and ankers began to be lowered, even before the ship had been made fast. I could make out urgent, low-voiced exchanges between the smugglers and the landers. My fists were clenched. We were about to be caught red-handed landing contraband and the men on shore would doubtless be taken too.
But the unloading was completed with remarkable swiftness and in near-silence. No sooner was the last keg off the ship than the ropes were flung back aboard and we drifted from the shore.
Our men were scurrying about the rigging and the deck once more, altering the set of the sails, working to turn the ship back the way we had come. Men were also lowering buckets into the sea; I wondered what they could be at. Jacob interrupted my musings without ceremony, pushing a bucket of sea water into my hand. ‘Help scrub the deck,’ he ordered.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Because one o’ the barrels leaked and it stinks like a tavern,’ he said as he hurried to the side to lower another bucket. Someone threw me a scrubbing brush and I went across the deck to the side where the kegs had been stacked for unloading. Sure enough there was a strong smell of liquor.
Before I began the work, I looked back at Otter Island, expecting the Revenue cutter to appear behind us at any moment, but she didn’t. I dropped to my knees, slopped some of the water out and began scrubbing. Some of the buckets were being carried down to the hold where there was clearly more cleaning to be done. No sooner was my bucket empty than it was snatched away and another was pushed at me. After three bucketfuls, my back and shoulders were aching. I straightened myself, curious to
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