before, his military side. I knew he’d seen action in China with Gordon during the Taiping Rebellion.
“Messieurs!” he said to the sour-faced quintet of Frenchmen who sat on a large packing crate, sharpening their knives. “I am glad to see you all here.”
“This had better not be a trick, Barker,” Robert Dummolard spoke for his brothers. “We expect to see Sicilian blood spilt tonight.”
“You will get your chance of that, I’m sure. I want youto know, however, that I will not simply drop a handkerchief and have you all charge at once. This is a game of strategy.”
“Strategy,” the Frenchman repeated, spitting upon the dock.
“I am sending Hooligan’s Irish lads in first. The five of you will lead the second brigade.”
“My brothers demand to go first,” the Frenchman insisted.
“You must trust me, Robert. I have Etienne’s best interests at heart. There will still be plenty of Sicilians for you to fight. But I hope you have no plans to kill anyone. I cannot shield you from a charge of murder. Remember, they cannot regret what they have done to your brother if they are dead.”
Robert turned to his brothers and spoke in French too rapidly for me to follow, telling them no doubt what Barker had said. Immediately there was an uproar among them—angry faces and fingers being pointed. Robert silenced them all with an oath, then spoke in a low voice for a minute or two.
“Very well, monsieur,” he said. “We agree to your terms. But we lead the second attack.”
“We’re glad to have you,” the Guv told him.
“There they are!” A voice sounded behind us; and on the other side of the dock, the Sicilians appeared. Ben Tillett jumped up on a crate nearby, and I saw him anxiously counting heads from this higher vantage point. Barker surveyed our opponents with one hand on his hip and an elbow resting on the Dummolards’ crate. We all leaned forward to watch our opponents.
“No more than ninety,” Tillett cried. “I’d bet my life on it.”
A cheer rose up, a waving of belaying pins in the air.
“I doubt it’ll be that easy,” Patrick Hooligan said behind us. “These Sicilians are crafty devils. Shall I reconnoiter the area to make certain there’s not a second band of them lurking about?”
“No,” my employer replied calmly. “We’ll take them as they come. If they are too strong, or too many, don’t hesitate to pull back.”
“Don’t you worry, Push. But, mind you, when this is over, I expect your help in return. I’ll be making a bid for the Isle of Dogs.”
“You think you can wrest it from Mr. K’ing’s grasp?”
“Why not?” he asked. “The Sicilians were going to do it. I’ll crowd the Chinaman into Limehouse, so all he can do is smoke on his opium pipey and cry over what he once had.”
Barker nodded and deferred answering for the moment, while I wondered if he was going to give the docks over to Hooligan and his grand ambitions. I thought my employer and K’ing had worked out an understanding between them. The Guv turned and pulled out his watch.
“Mr. Tillett,” he rumbled.
“Yes, sir?”
“Yours to command. Come, lad.”
“All right, boys,” the dock foreman shouted. “I want you in lines of ten. Irish first, Frenchmen next, then you dock-workers. Try not to crowd your neighbors!”
“Where are we going, sir?” I asked, as we skirted the armies and walked beside the warehouses.
“To spy out the leader of the opposing force.”
“Is he here, do you think? Marco Faldo?”
“He’s here. He’s bound to be,” the Guv muttered. “Step up, lad.”
I hoisted myself onto a crate that would offer a commanding view of the proceedings. The sun had almost gone down, bathing us all in a bloodred glow. Our opponents were not as physically large as some of our lads, but they were tough and wiry; and I saw more than one dagger in their hands.
“My word, it’s the man in the cape,” I cried, pointing across the dock. He stood, shouting
“Messieurs!” he said to the sour-faced quintet of Frenchmen who sat on a large packing crate, sharpening their knives. “I am glad to see you all here.”
“This had better not be a trick, Barker,” Robert Dummolard spoke for his brothers. “We expect to see Sicilian blood spilt tonight.”
“You will get your chance of that, I’m sure. I want youto know, however, that I will not simply drop a handkerchief and have you all charge at once. This is a game of strategy.”
“Strategy,” the Frenchman repeated, spitting upon the dock.
“I am sending Hooligan’s Irish lads in first. The five of you will lead the second brigade.”
“My brothers demand to go first,” the Frenchman insisted.
“You must trust me, Robert. I have Etienne’s best interests at heart. There will still be plenty of Sicilians for you to fight. But I hope you have no plans to kill anyone. I cannot shield you from a charge of murder. Remember, they cannot regret what they have done to your brother if they are dead.”
Robert turned to his brothers and spoke in French too rapidly for me to follow, telling them no doubt what Barker had said. Immediately there was an uproar among them—angry faces and fingers being pointed. Robert silenced them all with an oath, then spoke in a low voice for a minute or two.
“Very well, monsieur,” he said. “We agree to your terms. But we lead the second attack.”
“We’re glad to have you,” the Guv told him.
“There they are!” A voice sounded behind us; and on the other side of the dock, the Sicilians appeared. Ben Tillett jumped up on a crate nearby, and I saw him anxiously counting heads from this higher vantage point. Barker surveyed our opponents with one hand on his hip and an elbow resting on the Dummolards’ crate. We all leaned forward to watch our opponents.
“No more than ninety,” Tillett cried. “I’d bet my life on it.”
A cheer rose up, a waving of belaying pins in the air.
“I doubt it’ll be that easy,” Patrick Hooligan said behind us. “These Sicilians are crafty devils. Shall I reconnoiter the area to make certain there’s not a second band of them lurking about?”
“No,” my employer replied calmly. “We’ll take them as they come. If they are too strong, or too many, don’t hesitate to pull back.”
“Don’t you worry, Push. But, mind you, when this is over, I expect your help in return. I’ll be making a bid for the Isle of Dogs.”
“You think you can wrest it from Mr. K’ing’s grasp?”
“Why not?” he asked. “The Sicilians were going to do it. I’ll crowd the Chinaman into Limehouse, so all he can do is smoke on his opium pipey and cry over what he once had.”
Barker nodded and deferred answering for the moment, while I wondered if he was going to give the docks over to Hooligan and his grand ambitions. I thought my employer and K’ing had worked out an understanding between them. The Guv turned and pulled out his watch.
“Mr. Tillett,” he rumbled.
“Yes, sir?”
“Yours to command. Come, lad.”
“All right, boys,” the dock foreman shouted. “I want you in lines of ten. Irish first, Frenchmen next, then you dock-workers. Try not to crowd your neighbors!”
“Where are we going, sir?” I asked, as we skirted the armies and walked beside the warehouses.
“To spy out the leader of the opposing force.”
“Is he here, do you think? Marco Faldo?”
“He’s here. He’s bound to be,” the Guv muttered. “Step up, lad.”
I hoisted myself onto a crate that would offer a commanding view of the proceedings. The sun had almost gone down, bathing us all in a bloodred glow. Our opponents were not as physically large as some of our lads, but they were tough and wiry; and I saw more than one dagger in their hands.
“My word, it’s the man in the cape,” I cried, pointing across the dock. He stood, shouting
Similar Books
