The Survivor by Paul Almond Page A

horrible!” Catherine exclaimed.
    “What a dreadful and very long-drawn-out punishment.”
    “Not so drawn out, ma’am. You don’t last beyond, well, the first ship, or if you’re lucky, beyond half of that even. You certainly don’t live to see the other nine.”
    “And they still keep doing it?”
    “Aye. Just as long as there is anything left to lash, I suppose.”
    “How awfully horrid!” Mrs. Garrett raised a handkerchief to her eyes. “I had no idea.” Catherine buried her face in her hands.
    “You mean those rascal sons of yours would have subjected young James to that?” Eleanor looked at William in shock and anger.
    “Now luv, they’re your sons too, and they just got into some rum, and you know well, I punished them right and proper, I did. Y’see,” he turned to James, “they were only going to turn you in as a sort of prank. Thank heaven we found out in time.”
    “You didn’t find out in time, Papa,” Catherine burst out, nearly in tears, “it was just that —,” she stopped, “just that James was called away in time — before anything could happen.” James could see she was not about to reveal that it was her own quick thinking that had saved his life.
    “Well, anyway,” William went on, sitting back in his chair and letting out a big puff of smoke, “you are exonerated now?”
    “It appears so.”
    “You still didn’t tell us how,” William asked.
    “Oh. Well, I didn’t mean it to happen. It just... Somehow...” He was loath to give away the full details.
    “Come on, out with it,” William nudged. Perhaps he was beginning to believe it never happened.
    “Well, you see, I knew that sending the Chief by himself with his canoes — well, you can imagine how they would treat a Native turning up in a Micmac canoe to a ship of the line of His Majesty. So I had to go along with him. You know, to make sure they did what was right and proper.” James shrugged. “And that meant, of course...”
    “They caught you!”
    “Yes. They had me.”
    “Your life? You would have given up your life. To save another man? To save an Indian?” William took his pipe out of his mouth, staggered beyond belief.
    “He was the Chief. He was my friend, sir. I had no other alternative, now did I? You know how it is...” James finished rather lamely. He stared at the floor.
    William got to his feet as quickly as he could with his bum leg. “James, my man, I am honoured, yes indeed, honoured to come and shake your hand. What a fine specimen. I have seldom met, even in the depths of the Revolutionary War, anyone as brave as this sailor before me.” He stood and surveyed the group. “You know, Hall’s been telling me what you have been going through, back at the mill.”
    “The mill? Oh, I’ve been enjoying it, sir. Mr. Hall is a wonderful employer.”
    “Aye, that he is. But you’re not getting my meaning, lad.”
    “Your meaning, sir?”
    “Aye. He told me he’s been watching you. He hinted to me, that he did, that this daughter of mine, here, takes up a lot of your thinking.”
    James raised his head, a frown creasing his brow. What was going on? Then he remembered voicing his feelings the night they had stitched the pulleys. After spending the afternoon with her, he’d been overcome with her presence, with desire. Had he said too much? Should he have kept quiet? He’d never suspected his views might be passed on. But of course, Hall and Garrett were partners. When they met, Hall would love to bring it up, especially with his distaste for the Brothertons. Well, what’s done is done, he thought, and glanced at the young woman who was the object of this conversation. Her head was bowed, but one hand tightly clutched and twisted a portion of her skirt.
    “Now Eleanor,” William Sr. went on, “I know what you think of the Brothertons. And you know I don’t much agree with that liking of yours. But after you’ve heard from our young visitor here, and how he put loyalty and