Conclusions

The book shop door bell rang. Not brother Rowley then… Esme Trundle paused in the hall and looked at the mirror on the wall. She adjusted the velvet choker around her neck and tidied away a stray strand of hair. Then she took a deep breath, and opened wide the door.

‘Welcome, Sir Jasper Scabbard, or is it The Reverend Mr de Quincey?’ she smiled.

Jasper removed his hat and bowed as best he could with one arm in a high sling. ‘For you, Madam Trundle, I am happy to be whatever you would wish…’

‘That is a very foolish thing for any man to say to a woman, inviting her to try and change or mould him to her requirements.’ smiled Esme. ‘It sows the seeds for future resentments and regrets – not of course that it is any business of mine how you wish to conduct yourself in the future… What am I thinking of? Don’t just stand there, you poor man, you look quite worn out. Let me lead you up to your room – can you manage the stairs? Come, let me take your good arm… Here we are – now just back along this corridor to the front of the house… And this is the room on the right.’

It was a large room with a big bay window overlooking the square. Floral damask curtains framed the leaded panes, a deep piled and dark red patterned carpet covered almost all of the polished oak boarded floor, and there was the smell of apple wood smoke rising from the bright glow of the burning logs in the hearth under the figured marble mantelpiece. A wide bed with a colourful patchwork quilt had been set in a curtained alcove at the back of the room, and on the bedside table stood a large brass oil lamp surmounted by a dark green shade. A Staffordshire china washing bowl and ewer stood on the marble topped dressing table, and a large oak kneehole desk with another oil lamp was set against one wall.

A pair of obviously somewhat old but very comfortable deep leather arm chairs were set either side of the fireplace, with another pair in the bay. A cast iron chandelier hung from one of the beams, fresh flowers had been placed in a jug on the low table at the window, and there was a rocking chair in one corner with a large clothes chest nearby.

A tall ebony perch suitable for an aged pet bird stood in one corner. It had two cross pieces on which to stand so that any direction could be easily faced with the minimum of movement (quite a consideration for the elderly ornithore), a large earthenware feeding tray with compartments for fruit, seeds, millet, and grit, a porcelain water bowl around the rim of which were painted humming birds and kingfishers, a cuttle fish to peck on, and a book rest on which was secured a copy of the Cambridge Dictionary of Obscure Quotations.

‘Will this do?’ smiled Esme.

‘Oh, my dear, dear lady… It is absolutely perfect. And how kind you all are – after the dreadful way I have treated you…’

‘Never mind about that. It’s all in the past now, as far as I’m concerned. You and your men have more than redeemed yourselves. You are shivering a little – come, sit beside the fire. Would you like a foot stool?’

‘No, no, thank you, I am fine, fine. Oh, Esme, ’ he sighed, ‘You’ve no idea how pleased I am to see you.’

Yes I have Jasper.’ she replied, squeezing his hand. ‘As pleased as I am to see you, I believe.’

‘You mean…?’ said Jasper, as he felt a stab of the most intense and abiding happiness.

‘You know very well what I mean. We are both adults and know exactly what is happening between us. I think that neither of us have the time nor inclination to pretend or tease, or posture or play games, or circle around each other, testing and torturing to prove or confirm what we may or may not suspect.’

‘But what if my conduct is but a part of a plan to save myself from the gallows?’

‘You are an extremely clever man – you must be to have survived so long in your profession. And I am sure that you can employ the most complex stratagems to achieve your ends. And it is possible that someone such as yourself could place themselves so high in our esteem that we would allow them to sail away, possibly also with all their ill gotten gains so far accrued before coming amongst us.’

‘That was Mr Speke’s intention.’

‘But it was not yours, was it? There have been many indications of your preferred hopes, and anyway, your conduct towards me has been without reproach. You have made none of the overtures that might have been expected if you had wished to use my goodwill or services for ulterior ends. There has been a spark struck between us, and I judge that to be a true and honest feeling.’

Esme sank down beside his chair and took his hand again. ‘Any doubts I had vanished when I heard you had been shot. The rumour arrived at Richpickings before the true intelligence, and I understood that you had been killed. I felt such a grief then, with the barely acknowledged possibilities dashed completely, that I knew exactly where I stood.’

‘Oh, my dear lady,’ said Jasper, putting his uninjured arm around her shoulders, ‘I am so sorry. And you should know that for my part I felt that spark the day you so bravely repelled me from your property, and with the spark came a certain bitterness and resignation that a glimpse of possible happiness was just that, a glimpse, and nothing more. And whilst I have been out of Summerdale not a minute has passed, no, truly, not a minute, even in the heat of conflict, when I did not have in my mind’s eye the sight of you, wearing that choker, in that doorway, proud and brave and beautiful, your eyes blazing, and me, in these later changed circumstances, wondering how you would receive me on my return…’

‘Well now you know.’ said Esme tenderly, rising and kissing him on the brow. She squeezed his hand again. ‘But now I hear a shuffling in the corridor and some very loud discrete coughing, so let us compose ourselves… Is that you Rowley?’

Later that evening Rathbone called at the book shop.

‘Oh, good.’ said Esme. ‘Please come in Mr Rathbone. Jasper is up in his room and will be glad to see you. I was about to take him some refreshment – would you care to follow me upstairs?’

‘Evening, Sir J.’ said Rathbone, admiring the room. ‘This is nice and cosy.’

‘Indeed it is, old friend. How about your quarters? I think that you ought to take over my cabin on the Leopard in view of the future plans.’

‘I think perhaps not until the men have had the chance to talk about what’s on offer. I’m getting them all together tomorrow to explain the details, and hopefully you’ll then have a word as well. They don’t really have a choice in the circumstances, but the more they feel a part of it the happier they’ll be. And me taking over straight away is a bit of a fait accompli, don’t you think?’

‘You see how lucky I have been with a First Mate such as this?’

‘I do indeed.’ smiled Esme. ‘Well I’d best leave you gentlemen to discuss business.’

‘No, no,’ said Jasper. ‘Please stay, just for a moment…’

‘Very well.’ smiled Esme, standing by his chair with her hand on his uninjured shoulder.

Jasper coughed and cleared his throat. ‘You see before you an undeserving but very happy superannuated buccaneer.’

‘Excellent!’ grinned Rathbone. ‘I’d rather hoped that would be the case.’

‘Madame Trundle – Esme, and I both wanted you to know how we stand, although it is rather too early to be generally made known. I am anxious that the community should understand how genuine my intentions are, not just for myself and the crew, but for everyone.

I know how very lucky I am. Because of the goodwill shown to us the possibility of being permitted to settle in Summerdale had become a likely prospect, even if my future was just to be one of retirement, sitting by the Rowan listening to the ripple of the river, browsing amongst Mr Buckram’s books, helping out where kindly permitted, perhaps possibly pottering about in a little garden, to be remembered as a harmless soul…’

‘ “Oh rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more…” ’ said Tantamount. ‘ “And the woodbine’s spices are wafted abroad, and the musk of the rose is blown.” ‘

‘Yes, quite.’

‘ “Take, take away the gaudy triumphs of the world, the long and deathless shallow shout of fame…” ‘

‘Exactly. Most apt.’ said Jasper, whilst Esme stifled a giggle. ‘But that simple prospect of modest contentment has been transformed by this very dear and lovely lady into one of happiness, with a bright and industrious future that could bring real benefits to many.’

‘Over four hundred years ago, before the Black Death, there were prosperous villages in High Summerdale.’ explained Esme. ‘But now most of that area has become a wilderness. Much of my own land is far from fully developed, and beyond it the fertile heath and woodland could well be made into a profitable estate. But it needs someone with vision, determination, and leadership, backed by the necessary investment, to undertake the task.’

‘Now I wonder who that could be?’ smiled Rathbone.

‘And it would please us both,’ continued Esme, ‘If once this merchant venture with the new United States of America was established, provided it suited you perhaps you might consider joining us to help manage such a project? There would be produce beyond the needs of Summerdale to sell elsewhere, to the growing manufacturing towns in Lancashire, and perhaps wider afield. You might also find someone, in your travels or here in Summerdale, with whom you could share a future as well?’

‘Well, that’s a happy thought indeed, but unlikely.’ said Rathbone. ‘Although, if I’m getting about a bit legitimately – who knows? Yes, my prospects seem to be getting rosier as well. I’ll take the liberty of saying that in my limited experience some people, when cupid strikes, can be a bit of a pain, what with all reason going out of the window and having to make up for them wandering about with their heads in the clouds, but with others, like your good selves, they spread a glow about them that lights up the cockles of your heart.’

‘Oh, dear Mr. Rathbone…’ said Esme, taking both his hands in hers. ‘We are so fortunate to have you as a friend.’

 

The Meeting of the Brotherhood

The pirates meeting was surprisingly orderly. Possibly because of the sobering effect of the Council Chamber in which it was held, or maybe because of the notice outside the Town Hall…

BROTHERHOOD OF THE BLACK LEOPARD

Terminal Arrangements

A Bright Future or Uncertain Death?

Sunday 3.0 p.m.

Absentees will be keelhauled

Rathbone chaired the meeting, with Rowley Buckram, the Mayor, and Sir Jasper also on the platform. Petty Officer Archibald was at one side with his own desk to take minutes, and as Purser to answer questions about finances.

The Cook was also sitting alone, not because of any specific function but rather more due to the extensive haze of hops, fermented yeast, and hooch fumes that hung about his person. His cat sat on his lap, glaring at Tantamount with the usual heartily reciprocated ill concealed loathing.

The meeting was called to order.

‘Mr. Purser, would you read the minutes of the last meeting please?’ said Rathbone.

‘What minutes?’ said Archibald. ‘Come to that, what meeting? Oh, I remember. But that was five years ago.’

‘Never mind – just stick to the procedures will you?’

‘Like to but can’t. We agreed to make a run for it, didn’t we? Despite the howling gale and the gunfire from the forts. God knows what happened to the papers in the chaos – probably got washed overboard.’

‘Very well. No matters arising from the minutes then, I take it?’

‘Not a lot…’

‘Wassee on about?’

‘I still think we should have reefed in that top-gallant.’ said Morry. ‘Lovely shade of eau-de-nil it was, beautiful stitching on the seams – blown to kingdom come by now.’

‘Yes, yes… Well we’d best get on with it. Have you all read the agenda?’

‘No.’

‘Well you should have. Copies were posted up on the Leopard, in the Inn, on the Town Hall notice board, and in the hallway of Mother Comfort’s House of Pleasure in Comehither Lane.

‘Oh, I saw that – bit preoccupied though, forgot to read it.’

‘Tough. You’ll just have to pick up the threads as we go along. Now, item one…

‘Excuse me – d’ye mind? Afore ye start…’

‘Yes? What is it?’

‘Foul Carnage MacCroon, Ordn’y S’man, Maj’sty’s pirate ship Black Leopard oot o’ wherever it were afore we painted it oot, ah forget noo.’

‘We all know who you are Carnage. What do you want?’

‘Dinna be like that. Ah’ve bin asked tae propose a vote o’ effing thanks tae the effing Mayor and t’ lads and lasses o’ Goldcaster. One’st it had bin all effing sorted ye could’na bin more hospitable like, ye ken wa’ ah’m saying? None o’ tha’ Embro ‘Ye’ll a had ye tea?’ palaver here, jimmy. Open hoos an’ warm welcome in all quarters by the way. An’ after the awfu start, an’ lucky no one effing deid, aye? So effing t’anks, an’ that…’

‘Well, thank you very much, Mr. MacCroon.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘I shall ensure that those warm sentiments are made known to all residents of Goldcaster.’

‘Thank you, Mr. Mayor…’ sighed Rathbone. ‘Now -ITEM ONE! – condition of the wounded. Oh, not you again Carnage…’

‘Aye. Ah reepresent the afflicted members of the crew, and in r’sponse tae ye own reques’ Mist’ Chairman, we ha’ drawn up a wee schedule affair, like…’ Carnage placed a pair of very battered string lashed spectacles upon his bony nose.

‘Ahem… Item; Strong represeentashuns tae desist fro’ callin us the Old Incapables. And asosheeated wi’ tha’ item such effing remarks as ‘not yet ready to begin walkin’ an’ talkin’ at tha same time yet’, d’ye mind?’

‘Point taken, Carnage. Knock it off you lot – they all got stuck in.’

‘Ah’m obleeged. Noo –Injuries; Item A – we’d like a wee bit list o’ any injuries to oor new Goldcaster frens slow in heelin’ like. Wi’ a view to visits, helpin’ oot, walkin’ the dog, bunches o’ grapes, whateffer – ye ken wa’ ah mean?’

‘Very thoughtful, thank you.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘I will attend to it.’

‘Aye, if ye will. And ah noo come to Injuries, item B – Our oon injuries an’ state o’ play as requested which are:

One broken index finger, left hand; light duties – review four weeks;

Sundry burns an’ bruises all healing well and owners already working;

One broken wrist and broken collar bone – getting bored, off sick until mended;

One broken ankle – same, only more bored, getting’ a wee bit tetchy ah’d say;

One wound in thigh frae yon Boswell fella’s nifty sword – mendin’ but slow job;

One dislocated shoulder – put back but still givin’ gip;

An’ Ordn’y S’man Onions wi’ a badly burnt hand, cracked heid, broken jaw and self-bitten tongue. Long job, tha’ laddie.

An’ finally o’ course ma oon poor wee footies wi’ twa toes effing caput by the way. Ah can hobble aboot like, but canna kick anyone yet.’

‘I wouldn’t call your feet ‘wee’, Carnage.’ said Rathbone. ‘They must be size fourteen if they’re a day…’

‘Thirteen treble E d’ye mind. Now ah’d like te end wi’ a wee word frae the baird hissel;

“Sair rins the Tweed hoocht, Jeannie,

Blithe towmond, bonnie skirl,

The Snowther’s blate the criff, Jeannie,

Wi’ birkie frae the sirl.

O ken ye Wullie Broon, Jeannie,

Whaur’s the limmer noo,

Flicht stricht the bricht licht fa’s, Jeannie,

An’ mony mair tae you.” ’

 

‘And mony mair to you, too, Carnage.’ said Jasper. ‘Very moving.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ said Rathbone. ‘Nice to see that Summerdale has brought out a gentler (if still unintelligible) side in you that nobody ever suspected… What is it Onions?’

‘I gog a giggle git og gog og a gig gell, and gats gen ig gent or me, an I’g gike go gib ig bag, an gos anygon go how gong ig gakes gor a goken gaw goo geel?’

‘Does anyone know what he’s on about?’ sighed Rathbone. ‘No thank you Carnage – I’d sooner have it English if possible.’

‘It’s quite simple.’ said Morry smugly. ‘He says he managed to get a little bit of gold off the big bell and that’s when it went for him, and he’d like to give it back, and does anyone know how long it takes for a broken jaw to heal?’

‘Yes, of course he can give it back, and well done for owning up. Now let’s think… yes, the last broken jaw we had was coming along nicely after about eight weeks, for what its worth. Unfortunately the patient got eaten by a shark then so I can’t say how long it would have taken to fully heal. Well, thank you for that report, Seaman MacCroon. I now call upon our Captain and Mr. Buckram to set out the details of the proposed reorganisation…’

The mood of the meeting became quite cheerful when the proposal was explained.

‘Sounds good to me Cap’n. Are there any alternatives?’

‘No. Though I suppose you could always join one of those expeditions to find the North West Passage, and freeze to death on some frail leaking vessel creaking as it was crushed in the pincers of an ice flow, surrounded by scurvy ridden crew gnawing at their shoe leather?’

‘Er, not busting keen on that, no…’

‘How about joining the Royal Navy with the prospect of being flogged to death for being insubordinate?’

‘I had some of that – jumped ship and joined you, if you remember?’

‘So you did. And if you joined again you’d be hung at the yardarm for desertion. Not much of a prospect, is it?’

‘Suppose not, Cap’n. Bit of a no-no really.’

‘I wouldn’t mind going and living on some island.’ said Eustace.

‘What, you? On an uninhabited island?’ said Clarence. ‘How would you manage?’

‘No, not an uninhabited island.’ said Eustace.

‘Well it jolly soon would be once the people realised you’d arrived.’

‘The back of my hand’s going to have a serious word with your earole in a minute…’

‘Order, order!’ said Rathbone. ‘Moving on – Financial Arrangements; Mr. Purser…’

‘Thank you, Mr. Chairman. Now, lads, you’ve heard how the Captain and Mr. Buckram will fund the start up, as we investment analysts call it, but what you’ll want to know is where the profit goes and what’ll be your shares. Well it is proposed that once we get going, from the net profit ten percent will go towards repayment of investments, fifteen percent to pension fund, fifteen percent to reserves, ten percent to contingency, and no less than fifty percent to be shared amongst crew of any particular voyage according to rank.’

There was a murmuring of approval amongst the meeting.

‘Yum, yum… Have some of that… Sounds good to me… Soon have shed loads stashed away…’

‘Mind you,’ said Archibald, ‘That’s how the net profit is split. That’s what’s left after the expenses are taken out of the Gross Revenue.’

‘Yeah, well, reasonable, that… Normal business practice, innit?… Yeah, fair enough. What are these expenses then?’

‘I’m glad you asked that. There’s the cost of cargo for each voyage, then there’s heating and lighting, repairs and maintenance, postage and communications, printing and stationery, advertising and promotion, accountancy costs…’

‘Who’s the accountant?’

‘Me.’

‘Thought it might be. Is there more?’

‘Yes. Insurance, bank charges, harbour and other duties, bribes – sorry, professional fees, and staff entertainment. Alright?’

‘Suppose so. But we never had all that with piracy.’

‘We didn’t advertise too much – they’d have known we was coming.’

‘And as for the rest – we just took what we wanted…’

‘Very true.’ said Rathbone. ‘But with this method you don’t risk getting hung. And you get a good living and a future. Right – questions from the floor please – sensible ones preferably…’

‘Could someone spend time at sea, and then swap with another settled in Summerdale for a voyage or two for a bit of a change? If all concerned agreed?’

Those on the platform conferred together with shrugging of shoulders and nodding of heads.

‘We don’t see why not.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘As long as everyone was happy.’

‘How long are we likely to be ashore at various ports Mr Chairman? With regard to sightseeing opportunities and getting to know the residents an’ that?’

‘He means becoming acquainted with the local bed warmers. (New York’s good for that – all over you like a rash they are there.)’

‘There will be plenty of time for normal rest and recreation.’ said Rowley. ‘What with unloading and disposing of the cargo, taking on board local goods, making future arrangements, and so on.’

‘What are we going to call the old Leopard?’

‘Good question.’ said Jasper. ‘ She’ll have to be renamed – this particular leopard will have to change her spots. Let us have some suggestions later, gentlemen.’

‘How about The Witch of Summerdale?… I fancy the Lady Jane… What about the Goldcaster Belle – Har, har, har!…

‘I think we should call her The Gay Buccaneeer.’ said Morry.

‘Yes, most amusing.’ said Rathbone. ‘But let’s have suggestions in writing please and we’ll come to a decision during the refit.’

‘What if anyone misbehaves?’

‘You mean let all their mates down and be sent to Coventry for the rest of their life most of which will be spent looking over their shoulders to avoid a kicking, and lose their wages? Well, we’ll have to keep them in after the voyage, won’t we?’

‘But there’s no prison here.’

‘Soon build one, Sunny Jim. I’m prepared to take bookings for next year if you’re that interested? Is that it? Good – all those in favour (and you’d better be) raise your hands… My word – unanimous, what a surprise. Thank you gentlemen. Any other business? No? Right – meeting closed, time for tea.’

 * * *

 

‘Have you had enough excitement for a while?’ asked Rowley.

‘I suppose so.’ said Elisabeth. ‘I must try and be content and reconcile myself to normal life I suppose, educating myself as best I can.’

Aunt Hetty smiled. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong girl. How would you like to come and stay with me for a while? You’d learn a little more about the craft, I promise you. And you’d meet my cousin Aquilegia – that would be an education on its own. Mind you we’d have to be back in a few weeks time – there’s something else afoot. And, if you want to take part in that, I think it will prove a most interesting experience. You could even bring some surprising books back I expect. But there’s others involved who have to agree first…’

She gestured towards the little group sitting in the sun on the other side of Mr Bagley’s garden.

‘It’s been a week since you returned to us,’ said Professor Paragon, ‘And your health appears much improved. When do you expect to be fully recovered?’

‘The sling was removed yesterday, ‘ said Jasper, ‘And your Aunt now permits me to use my arm again, provided I make no sudden movements yet. Within two or three weeks I should be back to normal. Her potions and poultices have been remarkably effective.’

‘I am glad for you – it could have been so much worse. And now the future looks bright, does it not? You are a very lucky man. Esme Trundle is a fine, handsome woman.’

Jasper looked towards Esme, who, with a basket on her arm, was picking blackberries on the hill below the garden with Tom and Rathbone, and laughing as the Midshipman was lifted high in the air to pluck the ripest fruit.

‘Very, very lucky.’ nodded Jasper.

‘ “A perfect woman, nobly planned…” ‘ said Tantamount.

‘Quite.’ said the Professor. ‘And you have the prospect of a very busy and fulfilling occupation in High Summerdale. But once you have settled, would you be interested in the occasional diversion on the side of right, possibly also giving some of your men an extra interest? With Esme’s full agreement of course. And with the absolute assurance that you none of you would be known or recognised.’

‘Well, yes, perhaps I might. Provided all was proceeding satisfactorily here and I was not to be too long away. I am most anxious to make amends in any way possible.’

‘Good. Very good. But where could we be of help and not run the risk of being caught up by our past?’

‘I promise you that would not be a problem and you would only be need for a moment.’

‘A moment only? But how can that be?’

‘I will explain presently, but first let me give you examples of the sort of situation that I have in mind. There are frequently troubled communities dominated by harsh organisations or corrupt government where intervention by you and your particularly talented crew would be ideal. Often the local people’s particular talents and advantages need reviving and they lack the leadership and ingenuity with which to oppose their oppressors.

Aunt Hetty has also indicated that she would be available to assist with certain special matters. And be assured, wherever I would send you, you would be a stranger and in no danger from being held to account for your past activities.

Would you and your key men be interested? They would be more than adequately rewarded and you yourself could obtain not only great satisfaction but also substantial material advantage for the future of yourself and Summerdale.’

‘I am of course very interested, but my first duty is now to the lady who has agreed to be my wife, and I feel that this is too soon to be away when we have so many things to attend to and so much to enjoy together…’

‘Believe me I fully appreciate that, and I would not suggest this if you were to be absent for more than the briefest time. The matter arose in conversation with my Aunt, and now she understands the special nature of the tasks I have in mind Esme is in full agreement.’

‘Really?’ said Jasper, rather surprised. He looked over the garden towards Esme. She waved happily to him and nodded her head. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I must consult with her, but if that really is the case, provided my men agree, we could well be available. But how could I be sure that I and my men would be unknown?’

‘But when I say you have nothing to fear, I really mean it. I promise you, you would be totally unknown because the opportunities of which I speak are in the future.’

‘In the future?!

‘Indeed. You and your team would travel forward in time for any endeavour and, however long it took to achieve the task, will return the next day in our time, all being well.’

‘Great heavens – can this really be possible?’

‘Oh, yes. And it is quite safe, I assure you, as long as we adhere strictly to the procedures. I do it all the time. We merely arrange for your molecular structures to be precisely teleported to the time and place determined. I would of course demonstrate for you the whole detailed process before asking you to commit yourself.’

Not having been in the Tabernacle when Professor Paragon had perilously returned home from his recent shopping trip, to his later regret Jasper failed at this point to doubt the supposed simplicity of the process. And I wonder, he thought, if I could secure my hidden French treasure… ‘Well, if time travel is as straightforward as you say…’

‘Oh, yes. But how would your men feel, arriving in unfamiliar environments, full of strange customs and surprises?’

‘I should think that they would take it in their stride. After all, when not attacking shipping, they’ve been doing that for years.’

‘I suppose they have.’ smiled the Professor. ‘Then would you be interested?’

‘Yes, Professor Paragon,’ said Jasper Scabbard. ‘I do believe I would…’

‘So – “Its cheerio, my deario,” ’squawked Tantamount, “I don’t mind if I do.” ’

And the seagulls circled slowly overhead…

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

The Return of the Mission

After the Mission member’s night’s rest and a hearty breakfast (local Fartlethwaite smoked bacon, duck eggs, black pudding, sausages, lamb chops, kidneys, tomatoes, mushrooms, and fried home baked bread – all of which would probably play havoc with Jasper’s digestion later), they were about to return to Summerdale.

‘Doctor Johnson, I have put you to much trouble and inconvenience.’ said Jasper. ‘I know not how to make amends.’

‘Nonsense, sir. Had you not taken us into your custody your smuggling associates would have killed us. And had you not given us your protection and filed us safely out of harm’s way upon the island that scoundrel Speke may well have contrived our deaths.’

‘You are generous, sir. How will you explain your absence to your friends?’

‘We shall imply, if asked, that in haste, due perhaps to some indisposition of mine, we boarded the wrong vessel on Anglesey, a packet boat to Goldcaster instead of one to Liverpool perhaps, and that having recovered in Summerdale we then made our way south again. But what about yourself?’

‘My fate is in the hands of my captors. In the unlikely event that they will have me I am inclined to stay in Summerdale, but would need some sort of competence or occupation if I was not to be a charge upon the community. And of course the problem of the disposal of my crew and ship has yet to be resolved.’

‘I wouldn’t worry too much about that just now.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Something will be sorted, never fear.’

‘And then, of course, there is the matter of the warrants outstanding for me in a regrettably large number of quarters.’

‘We have not been unaffected by your integrity, Sir Jasper.’ said Boswell. ‘And Doctor Johnson and I have agreed that if such a danger should ever arise we shall speak on your behalf, declaring how you saved our lives, rendered great service in respect of Mr Buckram, and captured the most dangerous of outlaws. With the additional testimony of the Mayor of Goldcaster and Professor Paragon, and whatever influence we may have in certain quarters, it may very well be the case that an amnesty would be granted.’

Doctor Johnson then turned to Aunt Hetty. ‘Well, madam,’ he said. ‘‘It has been a strange and illuminating pleasure to make your acquaintance. Should you ever be in London I hope that you would do me the honour of lodging with me. Your company is most refreshing and there is much I would like to discuss with you.’

‘I would be most honoured to be the guest of the Grand Cham himself.’ replied Aunt Hetty. ‘And indeed I can understand your affection for the metropolis. I know that you have said that one who is tired of London is tired of life, but whenever I am there I feel that all my few abilities are needed to survive the visit, what with the incidence of dropsy, quinsey, tisick, measles, croup, gout, thrush, coughs, whooping cough, pleurisy, dysentery, kings evil, and melancholia…’

‘And what about teething fever, over-laying, and the perils of childbirth?’ asked Morry. ‘Although perhaps not so much in your case, Sister Hepzibah.’

‘And then there’s abel-wackets, mould shot head, bowel fever, and rot gut.’ said Clarence. ‘And the cow-itch, the crinkums, the creepers, the crumblies, and the cascades. Especially in Hackney.’

‘And it’s full of villains.’ said Archibald. ‘Even worse than Tunbridge Wells. You’re always in danger from chop dowsers, fire priggers, foot pads, fraters, rum dubbers and the duelling surfeit.’

‘And the congestion…’ said Jasper. ‘The streets are so full one is hard put to find somewhere to tether one’s horse, let alone to park one’s carriage, and it takes hours to get anywhere.’

‘And the pollution…’ said Clarence. ‘Sea coal smoke from thousands of chimneys, up to your ankles in horse dung, and raw sewage flowing in the Fleet…’

‘Aside from all that of course it is a charming place,’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘But not for me except in dire emergencies. But I would dearly wish to continue our acquaintance and might well consider coming as far south as Lichfield when next you are there. And as for dear, gallant Mr Boswell, he has already promised to divert to us when convenient during his regular journeys between Edinburgh and London. It would be a great pleasure to see him again, and I am sure that my nephew would welcome him to Castle Crab, indeed I can promise him that he would.’

The Mission equipment being all assembled and the Bashems, horses, packhorses, and pirates all prepared, they then sought out Captain Russell, thanked him for his hospitality and kindness, and bid him farewell.

And so they set off back to Summerdale, Brother Archibald’s tambourine and Brother Dancer’s triangle and trilling voice accompanying them as they made their way out of Fartlethwaite…

 

‘Say goodbye to your web-footed friends

For a duck may be somebody’s mother…’

‘Damned strange hymn, what, what?’ laughed Captain Russell.

‘Ah, perhaps.’ said Doctor Johnson, patting him on the shoulder. ‘But why should the devil have all the best tunes, eh?’

As the Mission disappeared out of sight Russell snapped his fingers. ‘Gad, I remember now who he reminds me off – different hat, different hair, different moustache, but quite the likeness of Scabbard the pirate..’

‘Yes, very possibly.’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘The De Quinceys are a collateral branch of the family, you know. Scabbard is the great shame that they all bare. Probably one of the reasons our friend works so hard without thought of his own discomfort to do so much good in the world.’

The return journey was deliberately unhurried and it was near noon on the Saturday by the time they reached the crest of the pass and Jasper looked down once again upon Summerdale. The last few miles had been the hard and difficult slog up the narrow rough track, with the horses slipping and his shoulder very painful when jerked and shaken about. He was glad to dismount and lean back against a rock, feeling the gentle breeze coming up from the valley, whilst they paused for a rest.

Fastnet and Rockall had left them earlier that morning and flown on ahead, and now he was surprised and delighted to see them returning with the whole herring gull squadron flying as guard of honour to a very old, rather threadbare, but still colourful and very dear friend.

‘ “Home are the sailors, home from the sea, and the heroes are home from the hill.” ‘ said Tantamount, settling on his good shoulder, and pecking affectionately at his hat.

Now, from between the great boulders through which twisted the winding trail below, also appeared Rowley Buckram, with Elisabeth and Tom, closely followed by Spud Tadmartin, Eustace, Twiga, and several other pirates.

‘Welcome, Jasper Scabbard,’ beamed Rowley, reaching down and shaking his hand. ‘Welcome back to Summerdale.’

‘My dear Mr Buckram, this is most kind, sir. But you ought still to be resting. You have been through great privation and should not have undertaken the arduous climb up here.’

‘Well, those villains pushed me about a bit, yes, but no permanent harm was done, and I rather feel that the enforced semi-starvation has done me the world of good – I must be a stone and a half lighter now. Besides, you and your men have saved my life. The least I can do is to be amongst the first to welcome you home.’

‘Home, you say?’

‘There are already many of us who now have a high regard for you, and considerable expectation that matters may so be arranged that you could settle in Summerdale, if that was your wish.’

‘Those sentiments are most gratifying, but we must not mistake momentary popularity for lasting renown. And besides, once I have ensured that all that is possible has been done towards resolving my debt to you, my first priority is the fate and the future of my men.’

‘We are aware of that and have been giving it great consideration. We have some ideas to discuss with you that may prove well worthwhile for all concerned. But first let’s get you and these fine fellows down to the town for some hearty Summerdale food and a well deserved rest in comfortable quarters. I hope that you will be kind enough to lodge with me until you are fully recovered? I have a large and comfortable room made ready for you overlooking the Market Square, if that would do?’

‘I could be your on shore midshipman.’ said Tom. ‘My parents say I could help you while you’re getting better.’

‘I take that offer very kindly Tom. But before I make any appointments I always consult the First Mate as second in command. What say you Mr Rathbone?’

‘What, young Thomas Trundle, eh? Let’s see… A bit impetuous, tends to get captured rather too often, needs to take closer heed of instructions certainly, but brave – no doubt about it, strong and willing – yes, bright and quick witted too. Has the makings of a sound midshipman I would say. But how on earth will they cope at Frodley Farm without young Tom to help? And can we afford him?’

‘I don’t want payment!’ said Tom indignantly. ‘And Uncle Rowley says he will feed me and Spud is already helping us at the farm’

‘I was only joking, Tom.’ laughed Rathbone. ‘In that case I say have him aboard Captain, by all means.’

‘Thank you Mr Rathbone.’ said Tom. ‘Can I start this afternoon Sir Jasper?’

‘I think you’ll find he already has.’ smiled Rowley. ‘ The fire is laid and the ewer’s full of water in your room already. My sister Esme Trundle offered to put you up at Richpickings, but she agreed that it would be more appropriate for you to be near the centre of things, so that you could go aboard the Black Leopard when you needed to and attend to necessary business in the town.’

‘Well, of course you are right, but it was most kind of her to make the offer.’ said Jasper, a little wistfully, Aunt Hetty thought.

‘Aunt Esme was very concerned when she heard that you’d been shot.’ said Elisabeth, her eyes twinkling. ‘So were we all.’

‘Was she? Really? Oh, er – how kind – of you all, of course. After what I’ve put you through. Strange how things can change.’ Jasper said ruefully. ‘She nearly shot me herself last week, you know?’

‘Oh, I know.’ laughed Elisabeth. ‘I was hiding in the hall cupboard.’

‘I might have guessed it. I never stood a chance, did I? Once you all got organised, and had the help of this amazing lady and her nephew…’

‘It was damned hard work,’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘On everybody’s part. And the timing was a nightmare.’

‘Knowing what I do now about your profession, I can appreciate that. And without the enterprise and determination of so many others, not least Elisabeth and Tom here, I would probably have done far more harm before any help could be obtained. But for the first time in my long and varied career, I am very glad to have been beaten.’

The party now set off again down the track.

‘I hope you men have all been busy?’ said Jasper.

‘Oh, we have, Cap’n, we have indeed. All the plunder’s been given back (save for what we’ve eaten of course.)’

‘And we’re making up for that, what with working in people’s gardens, learning how to plough, and me helping down the bakery.’ said Hawser Trunnion. ‘The Baker’s sister’s a funny woman – keeps leering and winking and nudging me. I got flour all down me front this morning.’

‘I spend quite a bit of time at Frodley Farm.’ said Spud. ‘I’ve repaired all the damage, and have got quite good at the milking and that, stoke me mizzen with a grog bottle if I haven’t.’

‘And the Cook’s been helping at the brewery. He’s been learning about hops and malt and mashing and yeast, and they’ve been learning about pot stills and potheen and turning potatoes into hooch. He’s quite his old self now he’s got away from Missis Tupman. Out of it a lot of the time admitted, but quite his old self…’

‘And Mr Nudd, the blacksmith, he was well pleased when he got back to find his forge all repaired and ready for business. Been shoeing like a good ‘un ever since.’

‘Some of us wouldn’t mind staying if they’d have us. Seem to be getting on well with the locals.’

‘Turns out they’re not enemy really.’ said Eustace happily. ‘I’m saving up to buy a bucket.’

‘A bucket?’ said Jasper. ‘What do you need a bucket for, for heavens sake?’

‘And a sponge. I’m going to be an optical illuminator enhancer.’ said Eustace proudly. Well, that’s what your parrot called it. I’m going to get a window cleaning round.’

‘And what about a ladder?’ said Rathbone. ‘And anyway, you’re afraid of heights.’

‘Won’t need a ladder. Only going to do low down single storey windows.’

‘Oh dear.’ sighed Jasper. ‘I think I can detect a slight flaw in your business plan.’

‘Wassat then Cap’n?’

‘It may have escaped your notice, but those windows in single storey premises are more likely to be cleaned by the occupants themselves without recourse to the option of employing a redundant pirate.’

‘Oh, well, never mind. Got another job anyway.’

‘I am impressed Eustace.’ said Jasper. ‘This shows considerable enterprise – your mum will be pleased. So what else are you doing?’

‘Ostling.’

‘Pardon?’

‘I’m an ostler. Wiv ‘orses. At the Inn.’

‘He’s coming on a bundle, Cap’n. Even started feeding them at the right end now. And he sings as he works.’

‘Don’t the horses mind?’ asked Rathbone.

‘I don’t think so.’ said Eustace. ‘They only kick a bit. And I groom them with one eye on the clock for when their needed, and have ‘em ready in order, and see there’s enough hay and straw and water and that…’

‘Amazing.’ said Rathbone. ‘Very well done, for someone who used not to be able to suck a sweet and fart at the same time.’

‘I get on well with dumb animals, I do.’ said Eustace, offended.

‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ sighed Jasper.

Downhill they made their way, past the point where Fastnet and his friends had attacked and driven off the guards on the track, past the edge of the great wood where so many citizens went into hiding, down and around the hill on which stood the church of St. Jocelyn Without, and so at last to Goldcaster and into the Market Square.

Here a large crowd of citizens and pirates had assembled, and there was a heartening cheer as the party came into view. Mr Bagley bustled out on to the Town Hall steps to greet them, followed by Professor Paragon, Umbrage, and Barney Trim, and even Morlock the Scavenger was there, standing a little apart from the crowd naturally, but smiling and waving his shovel in greeting.

The Bashem brothers and the members of the Mission were all merrily manhandled by congratulatory comrades, and Jasper was helped off his horse with the hand on his one good arm in danger of being shaken off as well.

‘How kind… Thank you, thank you… Hello again – did you ever get that supper we owed you? -fine, fine… Mr Nudd – good to see you sir. I understand the forge is in order once more? And decorated with such good taste as well you say? No, I’m afraid I don’t think we have any more topless posters of Miss Senegal – But I’ll ask Able Seaman Twiga – he specialises in that sort of thing… Ah, Mr Trundle – we meet at last – I owe you so much sir, not least the acquaintance with your offspring. No, no, we couldn’t possibly have managed without Madam Paragon… That’s you Achmed, isn’t it – hiding behind the pillar. I recognise the scimitar. Managing alright are we? Good, good. Hello Haroun – have you really? – well done lad… Mr Boon, how are you sir? Ouch! No, not your fault…’

‘Let the poor man be!’ shouted Aunt Hetty. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for all that when they’ve had a bite to eat and a bit of a rest.’

‘There’s a lunch laid on for you all in the inn.’ said Mr Bagley.

‘How very kind.’ said Jasper looking around the square. ‘It’s as though almost everybody in Summerdale was present…’

‘Aunt Esme will be down this afternoon.’ smiled Elisabeth. ‘A seagull was sent to tell her when you were coming over the pass.’

‘Ah, really… Oh good. Not that she should put herself out on my account of course. But yes, I would wish to make my peace with her. Where is Mr Speke?’

Ah…’ said Mr Bagley. ‘He’s had a bit of an accident I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, dear. How is he?’

‘Quite ill.’ said Barney. ‘In fact a bit dead, as it happens…’

‘How did he die?’ asked Jasper, once they had sat down to dine in a private room at the Inn.

‘ “Something lingering, with boiling oil in it for preference?” ’ said Tantamount.

‘Well it was rather protracted, I am afraid.’ said Professor Paragon. ‘But he really brought it upon himself, being so determined to make off with your treasure chest. It was his greed and ruthlessness that made it necessary to act. Once it became apparent that there was no other choice, we had to strike during the period when the moon was waning and the power to harm was highest. Of course, thanks to the seagulls, we knew his every move, and had to do very little to ensure that he knew the whereabouts of the treasure. He set out to challenge the power that was protecting it and so was destroyed.’

‘He was not a pretty sight when we found him.’ said Mr Bagley.

‘Well no-one looks their best with a foot blown off, their throat ripped open, and their eyes pecked out.’ said Barney.

‘But there are certain advantages consequent upon his removal.’ said the Professor. ‘Besides the strongest reminder that any transgressions here in Summerdale can be dealt with rapidly and, if necessary, with terminal effect, he would have been a major obstacle to any agreements we may come to about the future of your crew.’

‘The suggestion we would like to discuss presently just would not be possible if the Quartermaster was involved.’ said Rowley.

‘Well, it seems his death was most fortuitous.’ said Jasper, wryly. ‘I think I can promise you that with such a rapid trial and sentence to remind us of the consequences of ill conduct, every one of us will behave ourselves in an exemplary manner whilst under your guardianship. I must confess Mr Speke is one of the few I shall not miss.’

‘How did he come to be in your Company?’ asked Mr Bagley.

‘He was the Quartermaster on a privateer that was wrecked on a reef off the Maldives. All were lost save himself and a few others who, being in the vicinity, we took aboard. Now, Professor, assuming that you have been the prime mover in his fate, and having in mind what you and dear Hetty here said earlier about the rebounding Triple Effect, I hope that you have not been inconvenienced?’

‘He’s a quick learner, isn’t he?’ laughed Aunt Hetty

‘How considerate of you to remember that and think of my possible discomfort. But you will also recall that in Summerdale the effects are much reduced because of the bells. Still I was greatly fatigued for a couple of days afterwards. I have an irritating ulcer on my left foot, my eyes itch rather, and the toy dragon appears to have expired, otherwise all is well, thank you.’

‘I am relieved.’ said Jasper ‘But what about Steelclaw Hawkins and Blackheart Luke? They came to us with Speke – it would have been most convenient if they went as he left.’

‘Oh, they have gone alright.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘But not as we would have wished. Having seen the – er, shall we say special effects that he provoked, the seagulls wisely left the vicinity, as indeed did every other creature in the area. It being by that time quite dark, the gulls did not see those two, who also having fled, then made their way secretly down to the harbour, and must have stood out to sea in your longboat.’

‘Umm…’ mused Jasper. ‘If they survive they may well reveal our whereabouts if captured or when bragging in some dive.’

‘The gulls told us that the Quartermaster’s plan was to sail to Belfast. And those two not only had their own sea chests aboard the boat, but also the one belonging to Speke, the contents of which I believe should provide them both with more than enough to live a comfortable life if disposed of wisely.’ said the Professor.

‘But they are not wise.’ said Jasper grimly. ‘They are stupid and evil.’

‘If they do provoke any enquiry, we shall totally deny any knowledge of pirates, or robbery, or plundering or assault, or anything of the sort.’ smiled Mr Bagley.

‘But what if the Black Leopard is still in the harbour when such an enquirer may come to call?’

‘Perhaps this is the moment to consider our proposal.’ said Rowley Buckram. ‘We appreciate that in normal circumstances your company would all vote on any major decision about their future, but in this case there are very few options for you that we would be prepared to consider.’

‘I find it hard to think of any that would be fair to everyone.’ sighed Jasper.

‘Having got to know your men a little during this last week,’ said Professor Paragon, ‘It appears to us that they fall mainly into two categories – those who would like to settle here in safety, and those who would still prefer a more nautical life.’

‘Well, many were seamen of one sort or another before they became pirates, even though they are all damned fine seamen now.’ said Jasper.

Exactly.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘And with the best will in the world if they all wanted to retire and live here that would be impractical. There would bound to be some resentment and conflict. And without more trading with the outside world there would be only limited employment available in Goldcaster itself. Although in High Summerdale perhaps something could be done – with sufficient investment…’

‘So a key question must be how many would want to settle?’ asked Rowley.

‘Hmm…’pondered Jasper. ‘What do you think Rathbone?’

‘Well, let’s be honest, there’s you and me for a start, then the lads who came with us to rescue Mr Buckram have all made it clear where they stand, and a few others who might be glad to come ashore – ten, maybe fifteen, I’d say.’

‘That’s about what we thought.’ said Mr Bagley.

‘But what about the others?’ sighed Jasper. ‘And the ship?’

‘Have you – er – been busy, shall we say, along the North American coast, in territory controlled by what used to be called the Thirteen Colonies and is now the new republic?’ asked Rowley.

‘No. Never that far north.’ said Jasper. ‘We have had business in Nassau and Grand Bahama some years ago, but have steered well clear of that part of the world during the recent conflict. Why do you ask?’

‘In case your vessel might be known in those quarters.’ said Rowley. ‘Let me explain. Some of the tea thrown into the sea during the Boston Tea Party belonged to me. Of course the good people had no malice towards me personally, but were protesting against unfair taxation. Trade is now being renewed between Great Britain and North America where I still have several friendly business contacts…’

‘Do you indeed?’ Jasper was beginning to smile.

‘I think you may suspect where this conversation is leading…?’

‘Possibly, possibly, but please proceed.’

‘How would it be if the Black Leopard were to be renamed, converted into a merchantman, and set to trade between Liverpool (where I have several agents) and Boston, New York, and Charleston?’

‘What goods would she carry?’

‘Tea, coffee, manufactured goods, clothing, cloth, weapons, tools and the like outwards, and principally furs, tobacco, and cotton back to England.’

‘Who would command her?’

‘You would be too much exposed to discovery we feel, so whilst she was being fitted out and for her first voyage, we thought perhaps Mr Rathbone with a First Officer selected by him and myself from applicants suggested by my Liverpool agents. If Mr Rathbone wishes to settle here after that trip, that First Officer could then become Master.’

‘She wouldn’t have a full complement if some men stayed ashore.’

‘But she is not going to be a fighting ship – just a merchantmen with a surprising defensive capacity despite a reduced armament. And anyway, besides the First Officer there would be several other specialists recruited at Liverpool.’

‘Suppose my men became tired of being employed and wanted to revert to villainy?’

‘But would they if they owned the business?’

‘Pardon? Surely you…’

‘No, no, no. I propose that you and I provide the funds necessary to fit out the vessel, obtain the first cargoes, and cover expenses of the first few voyages, our investment being repaid over a period of time. But the business would be run as a co-operative venture, just like a pirate commonwealth, with all the officers and crew sharing the profits. I know from my own experience that in that way their income would be greater than that of any but the most successful pirate.’

‘And knowledge of the excellent earnings each man would make from the venture should animate him in his duty.’ said the Professor. ‘It should be a happy ship, and a profitable one.’

‘It sounds ideal to me.’ said Jasper. ‘What do you think Rathbone?’

‘Well, there’s certainly been some blue skies thinking done here. Now the plug’s been pulled on our core customer portfolio this could be the ideal construct, as contextualised by Mr Buckram, a paradigm for growing a new client base by instigating a radical agenda for positive factor development, at the same time implementing a solution driven alternative career enhancement programme, harnessing change for growth rather than retrenchment, subject of course to a user needs analysis, satisfactory strategic management role determination, resource quantification, and a rate of stock turn assessment. And, particularly as we have been assured that the bottom line will be stakeholder dominated, yes, I say that we should greenlight the proposal, and look forward to implementing it as a dynamically innovative programme for long term profitability from shore to shining shore. I suggest that you, Sir J, formulate a mission statement, whilst Mr Buckram and I head up a focus group structured to bring the human resource ingredient on side.’

‘Have you been at my Adam Smith again?’ said Jasper.

‘No, no, Sir J.’ said Rathbone. ‘Not The Wealth of Nations. I’ve been reading a book Professor Paragon lent me – Marketing and Management by Objectives in a Globalised Economy – Cranbridge University Press, £12.99 in paperback.’

‘A rattling good read, no doubt. Remind me to send for a copy. I’m running low on jargon.’

At this point there was a knock on the dining room door.

‘Come in…’ called Professor Paragon, and Archibald looked round the door, smiling.

‘Your new Midshipman’s here Captain. We’ve kitted him out a bit…’

‘Well, best let him in then. Good afternoon, Mr Trundle. My word, you’re looking very smart.’

‘Good afternoon sir, thank you sir.’ said Tom, saluting. The crew had managed to contrive a small blue tricorne hat for him, and he wore a white shirt, a red sash, a cut down dark blue jacket (much gathered in at the back), his own best breeches brought from the farm, and his highly polished black Sunday shoes with the brass buckles.

‘What can we do for you Tom?’

‘Spud has brought your clothes and equipment over from the ship sir, and was wondering what books and writing materials you might also require, seeing as you may find much of interest in Uncle Rowley’s shop. And the Cook was asking if you had any preferences for your supper. Oh, and Aunt Esme’s arrived…’

‘Ah…’ smiled Professor Paragon. ‘Well, I think our discussions have gone far enough for the moment…’

‘And I must be getting back to the Town Hall…’ said Mr Bagley.

‘And I had best be seeing how the rest of the crew have been doing…’ said Rathbone

‘And I think perhaps you ought to have a rest now, Sir Jasper,’ said Rowley. ‘If you would like to make your way across to my home, I will just make sure that the rest of your party have all they want and settle up with the Inn keeper, then follow you over later.’

‘Then it will be about time we had that wound of yours looked at again.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘And I need to give some special nursing instructions to whoever is going to look after you. I’ve got one volunteer, that’s Elisabeth, and I think there might be another in the offing…’

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

A Long Time To Die: Fartlethwaite and the Death of Speke

On Tuesday morning the expedition members went their separate ways.

Will Nudd, with Hawser Trunnion, Twiga M’wizi, and the four other pirates who had been escorting Doctor Johnson and Boswell set off back to Summerdale with Rowley Buckram.

The Quinceyite Mission, now reinforced by the five Bashem brothers in their role as credible heavy duty auxiliary escorts, with Charnock and the four remaining outlaws under roped guard, headed for the small town of Fartlethwaite, some twelve miles further south. Here it was intended to hand over the prisoners to the local magistrate and bid farewell to Doctor Johnson and Boswell, who would there soon be likely to find a post chaise available to continue their journey.

‘You really ought to return to Summerdale with us.’ Rowley had said to Jasper, who had his arm in a sling strapped to his chest to minimise the movement of his injured shoulder. ‘Although you have the excellent care of Mistress Paragon you should travel as little as possible with that wound. It won’t mend being jolted about. Even if you came back to Goldcaster now it would be a further two or three days journey, depending on the weather.’

‘I appreciate your concern, Mr Buckram, but I shall not rest easy until I see our friends safely on their way. I lifted them out of their life and it is only right that I should put them back into it. And besides I am in very good hands. Mr Boswell has kindly allowed me the use of his steed, we shall rest in the town tonight, hopefully in one of those inns so approved of by Doctor Johnson, and return refreshed tomorrow. I can foresee no possible complications.’

‘I wish you hadn’t said that.’ muttered Aunt Hetty. ‘Never mind – we’d best get off.’

‘Now lads, ‘ said Jasper to Rowley’s escort. ‘Mr Nudd’s in charge, so do as he says, but you’re tough, and experienced, and very bright, so keep a sharp look out for danger, and help look after Mr Buckram. Everyone on this expedition is going to get a special bonus from my own funds if our new friends agree, and I’ve got high hopes for a brighter and more secure future for you all if we do our best. Good luck, and I’ll be back with you in a few days time.’

‘How are we doing Sir J.?’ asked Rathbone, a few miles down the track. ‘This hack’s not so sure footed as old Snowy, is he? You’re wincing a bit on this rough stretch.’

‘I’ll be alright, old friend. At least poor old Buckram will be getting an easy ride. I owe him that at least.’

‘It’s funny how things have turned out isn’t it? I’m well content to be at ease with these folk if they’ll have us. That is what we hope for now, isn’t it?’

‘If there had been any other intent you know I would not have considered it without your agreement. No, this is the right, the best, and the most pleasant way for us all, I hope. But until we turn back to Summerdale we are still proving ourselves.’

‘Well monitored though aren’t we? What with Mistress Paragon and the seagulls. Hello Fastnet. How near are we?’

‘Fartlethwaite only three miles now. Busy place – market day. Sir J looks a bit pale – time for a break is it?’

‘Right.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Take five – well fifteen, more like. Let’s look at that dressing… Mr Rathbone, get your missionaries tidied up and back into the Quinceyite mode – get a bit of practice for when we meet with real human beings. How can you hope to convert England with flapping vestments and guns holstered in every orifice? Oh, I don’t know – on reflection that might be a good approach if that was what we were really at.’

It was mid-afternoon by the time the church tower of the small town came into sight above the trees, and they soon found themselves the objects of considerable interest as they made their way through the broad main street where the weekly market was being held.

Boswell asked where the local Magistrate might be found, and they were directed to an ancient pillared and portico-ed Wool Hall in the centre of the market place near to a substantial and welcoming looking inn, The Fartledale Ram.

‘As we now appear far more aggressive than you Quinceyites,’ said Doctor Johnson to Jasper, ‘How would it be if our friends the Bashem family stood guard over these villains whilst Boswell and I explained matters adequately to the authorities? You and your mission could then repair to the inn and we will join you presently. This hostelry appears to be prosperous, and hopefully will be one with few bugs, good food, clean rooms, starched sheets, comfortable towels, and abundant hot water, where you can have rest and refreshment out of the sight of enquiring eyes.’

‘How welcome that would be!’ said Jasper gratefully. ‘Thank you Doctor. An admirable proposal.’

‘But hardly practical.’ snapped Aunt Hetty. ‘Those aren’t farmers’ mounts tethered outside the inn. Look at the harnesses – immaculate, with full trappings, and the young fellow in charge of them is no shepherd.’

‘Whoops!’ said Morry.

‘Oh, dear.’ sighed Jasper. ‘Another night with no bath. A cavalry troop if I’m not mistaken, and that lad’s wearing the uniform of a dragoon. We had best say farewell and stroll nonchalantly away.’

‘Too late.’ said Rathbone. ‘We’ve been spotted, and, yes, here comes trouble…’

An officer and a sergeant had just issued from the inn and the guard was pointing across to Jasper’s party. The sight of the Bashems and the five closely roped prisoners was obviously of interest, and the officer and sergeant strode through the market towards them.

‘Sir Jasper,’ said Doctor Johnson grimly. ‘Will you trust Boswell and I to deal with these gentlemen and take your cues from us?’

‘That would be most helpful Doctor. It would be far more appropriate for you to be in charge of matters rather than some peripatetic preacher. All suitably humble now, brothers and sister.’

The officer was not one of the foppish variety but brisk and efficient with a florid amiable countenance, and was very well turned out, all epaulettes, froggings, lanyards, sash, and sword. As he drew closer his eyes widened and he laughed.

‘Good gad! It’s Doctor Johnson, isn’t it? Damme sir, you’re a long way from London.’ He removed his hat and bowed. ‘Darcy Carstairs Russell, Captain, Seventeenth Light. Gentlemen, my service to you, and to you Madam also, of course…’ He bowed low to Aunt Hetty, who smiled almost modestly and curtsied back at him.

‘Allow me to introduce Mr James Boswell…’

‘Know of you, sir, know of you. Howdy do, howdy do. And this man of the cloth who appears injured….?’

‘Ah, a very brave man, if rather foolish and too innocent in the ways of villainy – the Reverend Mr de Quincey, together with his companions on their mission to save sinners in the north of England.’

The captain laughed. ‘Tough task eh? Had any luck? What, what?’

‘We knocked them bendy in Bridlington.’ said Rathbone.

‘Oh jolly well done – well it looks as though you’ve saved some sinners for me too, haven’t you? And, good God (beg pardon Reverend), is that the swine Charnock you’ve got there? We’ve been searching for him and his gang for the past month. They got free from a prison hulk when it dragged anchors and went aground in a gale. No wonder the Reverend’s been wounded. What happened?’

‘Mr Boswell and I have been visiting friends in Summerdale. Unbeknown to us one of the residents of Goldcaster had been taken hostage by these villains. Because Mr de Quincey had received such a warm reception in Summerdale he insisted that he wished to help and volunteered to take the ransom and secure the release of the gentleman, maintaining that no one would hurt him or his colleagues because of their clerical profession.

Mr Boswell and I had intended to return from our holiday at about that time anyway, and when we learnt of this brave but unwise undertaking we set off hotfoot a few hours behind his party with a very strong escort, and arrived just in time to prevent a major tragedy, surprising the gang in their camp.

The fight was short and sharp, and even though they had few guns, they fought viciously and our men had no choice but to kill eight of them. Our men sustained no major injury but, as you can see, Mr De Quincey was hit, but lord be praised has only received a wound to his shoulder.’

‘The majority of our party have returned to Summerdale with the hostage Mr Buckram,’ said Boswell. ‘Since we only had these five prisoners it was felt that they could be more than adequately controlled by our friends, the brothers of the Bashem family from High Summerdale who, as you perceive, inevitably inspire fear and terror in anyone who find themselves opposed to them…’

‘Damme, I’m not surprised!’ exclaimed the captain, nodding to the Bashems, who leered down at him with gap toothed grins. ‘There’ll be a reward for you fine fellows – first rate effort, what, what?’

The Bashems shook their heads.

‘Ner, ner.’ grunted Bill and Ben.

‘ ’im.’ said Bert, pointing to Jasper.

‘And them and ‘er.’ said Broderick and Bedivere, pointing to the rest of the Mission and at Aunt Hetty.

‘Bless you lads, but we would not wish for a pecuniary advantage.’ said Jasper. ‘Perhaps any reward could be paid to Mr Bagley, the Mayor of Goldcaster, who could apportion it amongst all those concerned?’

‘Capital idea.’ said the Captain. ‘I’ll see it’s sent by the next packet boat. Sergeant…’

‘Sah?’

‘Get the keys to the local lock up from the Constable and throw this lot inside. We shall need round the clock vigilance, and I mean heavy duty surveillance – you know Charnock’s reputation.’

‘I do indeed sir, and he’s about to find out mine. Never had a prisoner escape yet, sir. Some have died on me, agreed, but none have got away.’

‘Now, Mr de Quincey, you have been wounded, so I’m sure there will be a charge of attempted murder. We’ll need you to give evidence at the next Carlisle Assizes.’

‘Ah,’ said Jasper. ‘You know, I couldn’t agree to that. It happened in the heat of the battle. The weapon was probably aimed at one of the combatants rather than myself. We are but God’s foot soldiers, not men of war. And I could not, especially if under oath, accuse any particular individual of trying to do away with me. I found it all very confusing.’

‘I see. Take your point. Pity though, but I understand. Tell me more about your work – are you up here for long?’

‘We have to return to Summerdale. There is still much yet to do, and we are only half way through our mission there.’

‘Lot of sinning in Summerdale, eh? What, what?’

‘Well, er…’

‘Do excuse me gentlemen,’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘But Mr de Quincey, may we remind you – you did so wish to take the opportunity to address the good folk of this town if you felt able. The market has attracted many but the afternoon draws on and they will no doubt shortly disperse.’

‘But of course, I am neglecting my duties.’ nodded Jasper gratefully. ‘Captain Russell, do you think it would be in order for us to address a congregation from the portico of this Wool Hall?’

‘Gad, yes, I am sure it will Reverend. I shall tell the Mayor and Justice that you are under my protection and deserve every consideration.’

‘Thank you Captain. Sister Hepzibah, Brothers, let us assemble at the top of the steps of this so suitable edifice…

‘Shall we leave Mr De Quincey and his potential converts Captain Russell?’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘I am a little weary but feel Boswell and I should present our compliments to the local dignitaries. We would not wish to be recalled as but rude travellers, merely passing through. Let us go together – perhaps you would kindly introduce us?’

‘Damme Doctor, I’m forgetting me manners – of course, let us do that. And then I’ll find you a comfortable billet at the Inn. You know, the Reverend’s face is vaguely familiar, just can’t place it. But he reminds me of someone, possibly a portrait I’ve seen…’

‘Possibly, possibly – worthies of the cloth perhaps? We have known Mr de Quincey for some while, haven’t we Boswell? A man of singular talents.’

‘Oh, most singular indeed. Shall we go in? After you Captain…’

Seeing the prisoners taken away and the Dragoon Officer entering the Wool Hall with Doctor Johnson and Boswell, the curious crowd who had gathered started to disperse.

‘Why don’t we give ‘em a tune to get their attention back?’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘It just so happens I has me portable mini-harmonium with me.’ She extracted a folded instrument from one of her donkey’s panniers, and issued Archibald with a tambourine, Morry with a triangle, and Tembo with a bongo drum.

‘Are you sure about this?’ said Jasper, doubtfully.

‘Course I am. And besides, we’ve got to give them a hymn or two haven’t we?’

‘Do we have to?’ said Rathbone.

‘Of course we do – it’ll be expected. Right – give us an intro on the drum, Tembo, and I’ll start of with a few chords.’

The drum roll was fine and the crowd in the market place turned to see what was happening, but the sounds created by Aunt Hetty were hideous in the extreme, Fastnet and Rockall soaring desperately skywards to escape from it.

‘Look,’ she said, ‘We’ve got their attention now, haven’t we?. Nothing like a bit of music to attract people’

‘And that was nothing like a bit of music!’ protested Rathbone. ‘What did you call that instrument – a pandemonium?’

‘Sorry… Just warming up with a bit of Stockhausen. Right, here we go – let’s hear it from the tambourine, and give me some nice loud tinkles on your triangle Brother Dancer…

‘Come and join us, come and join us,

Gather round and hear the message of the Lord…’ Boom! boom!

‘Thank you Sister Hezibah, thank you brothers, and good afternoon to you all, good people of Fartlethwaite.’ said Jasper solemnly. ‘We come amongst you today to bring a new message, a message that can change all our lives for the better, if only we will listen. I am not here to remonstrate with you for your shortcomings, I am not here to urge you to deny yourselves innocent enjoyments, I am not here to preach hellfire and damnation…’

‘Pity, I likes a bit of hellfire and damnation.’

‘Yeah, livens things up a bit don’t it?’

‘What are you here to preach, then?’

‘(Patience my son, I’m in mid flow aren’t I?) I am here to ask you to rejoice at the glories of the world, to wonder at the beauties all around us, to give thanks for all that we are and all that we shall be blessed with, and, whilst we fume at the evils mankind is capable of, to urge you to so live that you all help each other, and to so laugh that goodwill and happiness increase and grow to the abounding benefit of your community, and to so love that your families, friends, and future offspring spread in their turn the message of hope and renewal from this day forth.’

‘Sounds good to me – I’ll have some of that.’

‘Pity the wife’s mother’s not ‘ere – that might shut her up for once.’

‘I still miss the hellfire and damnation.’

‘Alright, alright, we’ll have some of that in a minute.’ said Jasper, rather curtly, for his shoulder was starting to ache quite badly.

‘Can I do the hellfire and damnation bit?’ asked Rathbone.

‘Presently, presently. Now, where was I? Ah, yes… Brothers and sisters here today, I do not ask you to believe in the strength of this message merely because of my counsel, I do not ask you to take it without proof of its effectiveness, I do not expect without evidence the words of one moment to convince you of the truth that can change your whole lifetime…’

‘What do you expect then?’

‘For heaven’s sake!’ snapped Jasper. ‘Sorry, sorry… Er, yes – we Quinceyites have all been sinners, if only perhaps in minor ways…’ (‘Oh yeah?’ muttered Aunt Hetty) ‘…Indeed we have. But we have come to the way of the Lord, each and every one of us, and our lives have been enriched by the experiences of redemption, so I shall now call upon each member of the Mission to give us, albeit briefly, their words of encouragement.’ He clasped his bible to his chest and smiled sweetly on Aunt Hetty. ‘Perhaps, Sister Hepzibah, you would be so kind?’

‘Will I? (I’ll have you for this…) Alright, then – Habanagila!’

‘Pardon?’

‘Sorry – Hallelujah! Listen up you lot, to the words of a wise woman. I too have been a sinner – no, no, it’s hard to believe, but I have. I have said unkind things, I have thought unkind thoughts, (quite recently, too), and, wait for it – I have even told the occasional uncalled for little fib…’ (Gasps of shock and horror from the crowd.) ‘Oh, yes, and I have done such things in my previous existence as would amaze and terrify the hardest one amongst you.’ (Oo-er – what you done then?) ‘I’m sorry, good people, but I cannot speak of those things for I am now redeemed, and devote my life to attending to others (not too gently either, if they’re not careful…)’

‘Thank you Sister Hepzibah. Brother Dancer – can we hear from you please?’

‘Oh, well, if you must. But where does one start? I mean to say – I’ve been such a tinker, haven’t I? I’ve got up to all sorts of naughties, me… I remember when I and Hooky Wacker met this Hussar – (there was something about that soldier, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, more’s the pity) – anyway, the thing is, in those days I was anybody’s for doughnut, nobody ever did me no favours, dreadful it was…’

‘Get on with it!’

‘Ooh, vada you, you cheeky cleric. Oh, alright then… I WAS CONVERTED! Yes, I was – the Mission!, the Message!, it was a whole new way of life for me – Oh YES! I was strangely drawn, and overcome I was, yes… And yes, I gave myself up to it, believe me, I did… And oh, the tears, the trauma,! – it would tug at your heartstrings, it really would… And now I’m changed – Changed I tell you! … CHANGED!’’

‘Yes, yes, thank you Brother Dancer..’

‘I was just getting going then…’

‘So we noticed, but we don’t want you to have one of your turns, do we? Brother Archibald?’

‘What, me?’

‘Please.’

‘Oh, alright. Here goes then – “I’ve been a sinner, I’ve been a scamp – but now I’m willing to trim my lamp.” ’

‘Is that it?’

‘What’s wrong with it? My mum taught me that.’

‘Oh well, it’ll have to do I suppose. Brother Tembo, would you like to say something – appropriate preferably?’

‘Sho nuff Massah! Alleluja, how yo hangin’ everybody? Yeah, right on. Now, ah was a slave, and then ah was saved, and then ah was a sinner big time. Yea sayeth de Lord, yo am one bad-ass Tembo. And he was right. Ah was robbin, an lovin, and smokin de Camberwell ceegar, and den got saved again wid de De Quincey massiv innit? Now ah am one cool contented dude, yeah, so go for it, right? Big Love, Peace… Yeah?’

‘Er, thank you Brother Tembo. I’m sure they got the gist of that. Brother Clarence?’

‘Mutter, mutter, cough, cough, rasp, rasp, mutter, mutter…’ responded Clarence.

‘What?’

‘Los……ma…..voi……’ pleaded Clarence. ‘Too….much….stress….’ he managed.

‘Oh? Dear me, how convenient, and what a disappointment. It appears that Brother Clarence is suffering from psychosomatic laryngitis.’

‘Then can I do the hellfire and damnation bit now?’ asked Rathbone.

‘Oh, very well. But don’t make a meal of it.’

‘Goody, goody,’ said Rathbone eagerly, rubbing his hands together, and then spreading his arms wide apart. ‘Brethren!’’ he thundered. ‘You have heard the message of LURVE!… And it is a good message, yea verily, and it is a fine message in the sight of the Lord, and it is a strong message, and it pleaseth the Lord. But hark unto these words and let them be etched in your hearts – what if you do not heed the message? What if you allow yourselves to be drawn aside by Satan from the paths of righteousness?

We Quinceyites are safe from sin for we have the infinite care, patience, and wisdom of our beloved leader here to raise us up from the depths of temptation. But ye who are without the Quinceys must be forever vigilant lest you should transgress and fall back into sinful ways.

For what is to become of you when the last trump finally sounds, when the righteous are called forth and sitteth in glory in the golden vault of heaven, and when those that hath not repenteth are thrust out and cast down, yea cast even unto the deepest depths of the pits of hell?

I will tell you how it will be, brethren. There shall be the shedding of streams, nay rivers, nay oceans of tears, there shall be a such a wailing and a gnashing of teeth…’

‘My dad ain’t got no teeth, come to that neither’s me mum.’

‘Teeth will be provided! Don’t interrupt… Anyway, that’s about it. Have you got the message? Love one another now or it’ll be eyes down for eternal torment! So just remember when you’re low, all you need is L.O.V.E – LURVE… So give me an L…’ ‘ELL!’ ‘Give me an O…’ ‘OHH!’ ‘Give me a V…’ ‘VEE!’ Give me an E…’ ‘EEE!’ That’s it good people. Sister Hepzibah, take it away please – and all together Quinceyites…’

 

‘All you need is LOVE…boomty-boomty-boom,

All you need is LOVE…Boomty-boomty-boom,

All you need is love, love,

Love is all you need…’

Even Fastnet and Rockall, now back perched on the eaves of the Wool Hall, were waving their wings in time with the music.

‘Wonderful!’ cried Aunt Hetty. ‘Now everybody – let’s hear from all of you. After me… We love you, yeah, yeah, yeah…’

 

‘We love you, yeah, yeah, yeah,

We love you, yeah, yeah, yeah,

We love you, yeah, yeah, yeah…

YEAH! ! !’

‘Good God!’ said Jasper, when the cheering had died away, ‘Where did all that come from?’

‘I dunno.’ said Rathbone, rather flushed and bemused.

‘I do.’ said Aunt Hetty, smugly. ‘Maybe one day I’ll tell you. But it went down well, didn’t it?’

It certainly had. Besides the crowd, on the balcony of the Inn an enthusiastic group was clapping loudly and calling ‘Bravo!’ With Doctor Johnson and Boswell, there were Captain Russell and several self important dignitaries including the Mayor. The only one who looked a little woebegone was the local Vicar.

‘No criticism,’ said Jasper to Rathbone, ‘ But what got into you?’

‘I don’t know. Mistress Paragon was staring at me and nodding her head, muttering away and waving her hands about.’

‘I see. I was a bit concerned with the prospect of having to improvise a sudden sermon.’ said Jasper to Aunt Hetty. ‘But you weren’t worried at all, were you?’

‘Not after we arrived at this Wool Hall.’

‘Ah – goes back a bit does it? A bit special for your profession?’

‘You catch on pretty quick now, don’t you? Yes, the building itself is only two or three hundred years old, but it’s on a bit of a mound, isn’t it? And I was getting some good vibes from the foundations, ancient, they are. This place has been a meeting place and probably more for thousands of years – it’s on the same ley line that passes through Summerdale, just what I needed to charge up me ‘fluence.’ Leading Seaman Dancer was almost taking off. Where’s he got to?’

‘Don’t fret, chuck – I’m over here.’ called Morry, making his way back to them through the crowd and waving a bucket. ‘Seeing we went over so well I thought howsabout taking up a collection? That sort of thing’s expected, isn’t it?’

‘Any luck?’

‘Pretty good really – twenty eight shillings and ninepence farthing, two brass buttons, an Isle of Man groat, and an voucher for a round of drinks from the potman at the inn. We ought to come here more often.’

‘Sadly, I think not Brother Dancer.’ said Jasper. ‘Ah, Doctor Johnson, Mr Boswell – we’d better be leaving now, whilst our luck still holds.’

‘No, no, Mr de Quincey ’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘The weather is changing, it has become colder and is growing misty. Rain is likely I think, and you must rest. All has been arranged. Even though the Inn is almost full a quiet room has been arranged for you where you will not be disturbed. We have rather enlarged on the nature of your infirmity and so adjoining you will be Sister Paragon to nurse you and to keep any awkward enquirers at bay.’

‘What about my men and the Bashem brothers?’

‘The Inn keeper is also an important farmer and behind the Inn is a very large barn, with many bales of wool, hay, and straw. Boswell has arranged for the others to all be provided with blankets and made very cosy there. They will have the use of all the Inn’s conveniences but will not have to keep company with any dragoons or curious locals, so there should be little risk. The Inn keeper will ensure that everybody has more than sufficient food and drink, Captain Russell has explained that you have all had an arduous and exhausting time and that he wants you all to have an undisturbed rest, and he has insisted on defraying all expenses.

‘What about yourselves?’

‘Boswell and I have been offered lodgings with the Mayor. This will give us an admirable opportunity to reinforce the understanding every one is being given about your innocent occupation, and the natural circumstances of our presence in these parts.’

‘I must confess I shall be very glad to rest a while and cannot thank you both enough for taking charge of matters here so efficiently.’

‘Nonsense, it was the logical role for us to play. Now I suggest that Madam Paragon and I see you to your room, and that you dine as soon as possible and retire early. We will be sure to see you off safely in the morning, preferably after a hearty breakfast so we can talk further then.’

‘Mr Rathbone,’ said Boswell, ‘May I offer my congratulations on your exhortation? Come and let me introduce you to the Inn keeper, and then we can lodge everybody as comfortable as maybe in the barn.’

Within the hour Jasper had been fed, had his wound dressed, and was drifting off to sleep, with Aunt Hetty sitting in a rocking chair beside him, thumbing through an early but already dog eared copy of Wainwright’s guide to the Northern Fells. The Quinceyites and the Bashems were enjoying a hearty feast, the Bashem brothers very considerately sharing their frequently topped up ale with the poor temporary tee-total Quinceyites, and the Quinceyites were looking forward to a profitable evening teaching the Bashems the joys of gin rummy, black jack, and five card brag.

Somewhat further north Luther Speke had already set out on his own mission…

* * *

Luther Speke believed that he had thought of everything.

A barrow had been quite openly and reasonably taken to the forge with tools and material to mend the roof. If the treasure chest could be dug up from beside the Tingle Stone it could now be wheeled back to the harbour in the dark to be loaded on to the longboat. Their own sea chests, together with carefully concealed sails, now covered with casually thrown tarpaulins and various bits of tackle, had already been stowed under the thwarts of the barrow when the last of the stolen booty had been brought ashore.

It helped that surveillance in Goldcaster appeared now to have been virtually suspended as far as himself and his two henchmen were concerned, presumably because he was more than honouring his commitments.

The plan this time was to head straight out to sea under cover of darkness and then sail for Ireland and Belfast. There one small boat would hardly be noticed amongst so many others. Fishing and trading vessels of all shapes and sizes were forever busy about the many settlements nearby, and others were entering or leaving the harbour at all hours. Once ashore Speke would become a retired merchant who, with his two servants, would take secure lodgings where they could prepare for the next stage of their prosperous future…

The weather had changed during the day, and although the clouds had momentarily cleared, what with an on shore breeze bringing in a sea mist during the morning and the occasional shower of drizzle in the afternoon, it had been a soggy day in Goldcaster town.

Now Speke was striding along in the darkening evening, the high collar of his long black leather coat turned well up and in his action mode, committed and determined, with no more wondering or plotting or persuading to be done, lips no longer twitching, wart no longer picked at, fingers still and eyes blazing with eagerness at the profitable prospect before him.

Steelclaw and Blackheart were taking turns to push the barrow which now also held shovels, picks, and a crowbar. With their sacking covered shoulders hunched, they complained about the weather.

‘This suits us fine, you fools. It’s more likely to keep the peasants indoors.’

By now, with the ever present seagulls discretely circling above, they were making their way up the track that lead through the trees towards the low hill surmounted by the Dancing Sisters stone circle and the target Tingle Stone.

Suddenly it became very still in the wood.

The late September air ceased to even stir the long grasses on either side of the track. The background of birdsong died away. Tendrils of mist hung motionless. The watery sun sank lower. Trees dripped.

The stillness was broken by the sharp clamour of a jay, defiantly strident as it chattered away through the trees. His two companions shivered but Luther Speke seemed oblivious to the subtle change in the atmosphere.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ he snarled.

‘Bit creepy ain’t it?’ sniffed Steelclaw.

‘I’d as soon not be up here after dark.’ said Blackheart.

‘You both do as you’re damn well told if you want your share. And keep a sharp lookout. Kill anyone sniffing round – we want no witnesses.’

‘We know, we know…’

‘All pistols primed?’

‘All primed in case, Mr Speke.’

The Quartermaster himself was armed with his special Griffin breach loading carbine with one cartridge already loaded and ten more in his belt.

They continued along the track.. The unusual stillness was vaguely disconcerting. There was a marked chill in the air and despite himself Speke shivered. Insensitive as he was normally, it was somehow disturbing for them to be alone in this eery place.

But not quite alone…

Through the thickening mist they saw something separate itself from the darkness of the trees and cross swiftly over the track a short way ahead.

‘A bloody snooper…’ hissed Speke. ‘Get him!’

They started to run forward but the track was becoming uneven and they slipped and lurched on the patches of clayey earth in the ruts and between the tussocks of grass. Speke began to sweat, and was soon panting with frustration and the unaccustomed effort.

They reached the point where he judged that the intruder had crossed. Here there was the wide ride on the right that lead up from the track to the crest of the hill and the stone circle.

Pausing here, at first they could see no one. No furtive prowler, nobody scurrying away, no other occupant to share the ever darkening twilight.

But then a brief gold glow illuminated the sky above the hill, a final weak glimmer from the watery setting sun. It was enough to distinguish a tall dark figure, not furtive at all, but striding purposefully up to the top of the crest and then turning, slowly, to look silently down the ride towards them.

‘Heh! – You…’

Speke’s voice sounded dull and strangely flat, as though muffled by the mist.

For a long moment the tall figure just stood there, looking at them, his features unclear, silhouetted against the dying light, as though savouring the situation.

They were now, if anything, even further apart from their quarry, but he was still within the range of the Quartermaster’s carbine. Speke tried to raise the gun but a kind of dreadful lethargy seemed to fall upon him. His arms felt weak and heavy, the simple effort assuming the dimensions of a major task, and it was as though time was almost hanging still, each second passing with icy slowness.

He stood transfixed, and could only watch with growing apprehension as the stranger slowly raised his arms and put on some sort of head dress. Multi-horned and horrible it appeared to Luther, even at that distance.

The arms were then stretched out to their fullest extent either side of the body. The fingers were spread wide and the head then laid back, as though the creature, gazing up at the darkening sky, was receiving some sort of blessing, some special strength…

There was a moment of utter stillness in which even the tendrils of mist seemed frozen. Then the horned figure looked down the ride at them again, and those outstretched arms were brought slowly and deliberately downwards, inwards, and forwards, in a ritual gesture, as though to scoop up the air from the ground beneath its feet and deliver it down into the wood.

Two, three, four times, this was done, and then the creature was still again, the head bowed, as though patiently waiting.

To their horror the scene before the three men began to blur, at first just at the edges of their field of view but then right across their vision, with a kind of rhythmic oscillation that grew to an almost unbearable level before it gradually died away.

There was a pause.

Steelclaw and Blackheart turned and ran, stumbling and tripping, but managing rather well in the circumstances, now totally determined to escape into the open countryside, to abandon their master, whatever the outcome, and to get away, as far away as possible, from the menacing terror welling up behind them.

Speke tried to yell at them but his throat felt dry and choked and no words came.

Then, faintly in the distance could be heard the sound of Goldcaster’s greatest bell as it chimed the hour of eight.

Now, to Speke’s mounting dread, the ride started to ripple. Grass, plants, shrubs, the very ground itself, undulated and heaved in a series of shallow waves originating from where the figure stood, each wave coming further and further forward, until there was a pulsing path of menace flowing from the crest of the hill inexorably down to the foot of the ride.

As this drew closer and closer the area it covered became clearer than the thickening darkness all around, and at first, to his horror, all colours were leached from the scene, everything before him only visible in streaks of black and shades of grey and leprous white. But then colour returned. Every conceivable colour, at first surging and whirling and mixing in rhythmic rainbows, but then melting away as green began to dominate, viridescent green, glowing obscenely bright with a kind of terrible beauty, and then came all the shades of green to match the texture of every ingredient of the view before him.

And preceding the colour came something else, something dreadful, like a buffer zone of impacted air, malevolent and heavy with menace as it passed over the ground, rustling as it came, and sending terror into Luther’s heart.

He cried out, and turned to escape, desperately lurching and stumbling along the track, a track that now seemed like a sodden sponge, sucking and clutching at his feet.

Ten, fifty, a hundred yards he staggered, panting, looking over his shoulder and sobbing with despair as he saw the menace spill out from the ride like an evil stream, swirling and washing against the trees before the flow steadied and it set off again, surging relentlessly now along the track behind him.

He reeled onwards, even praying out loud, and for a while it seemed as though his prayers were answered. It wasn’t gaining on him. He was holding his own – perhaps he could even outrun it…?

Then his heart almost stopped.

Ahead of him, gushing down the hill through another gap in the trees, a further ghastly cascade of green havoc had hit the track and had turned back in his direction. He twisted around. Now the original abomination was gaining on him. He was trapped.

Or was he? Perhaps this hideous thing ran only in the open? He turned to the trees. On his left at this point the wood was not very wide. If he could just get through to the field beyond, and to the lower ground, and to the road that ran between Goldcaster and the water mill… That way, perhaps, lay safety?

He leapt clumsily over the ditch at the edge of the track, grasping at the undergrowth in front of him. And dropping his gun.

His palms wet with panic, but managing to hold on to a branch with his left hand, he groped with the other in the long wet grass. His right hand closed on to the barrel and he snatched up the gun, but as he did so and straightened up, the stock struck the craggy side of a rock half hidden in the bracken and the briars. His slipping fingers slid up the gun and on to the trigger…

The sound of the shot thumped across the track.

The gun had been pointing downwards as he had fired it. The shot ripped down his leg, tearing open cloth, sending the bullet deep through the skin, splitting leather, bursting open his boot, driving through gristle and cartilage, and splattering blood and flesh and splinters of bone across the ditch.

Before the pain came he was still, leaning back, gazing with disbelief at blood welling out of the white flesh of his leg and the mangled remains of what had been his foot.

He raised his eyes to the track.

Both streams of the hideous horror were now almost upon him. The ground was writhing as the ripples rolled over the edge of the ditch and reached him at last. And as the terror hit so did the pain. Screaming in agony and looking down he felt the loathsome waves lapping on to him and saw his bare and bloodied skin actually rippling as the invisible foulness crawled slowly up his leg.

Almost deranged now, he turned and flung himself away from the ditch, clawing his way forward, clutching at tree trunks, trying to pull himself upright, but failing, and falling into the dense scrub.

Years of neglect had rendered the undergrowth here almost impassable. Maimed as he was, he could barely crawl, and struggled helplessly to break through the thicket of saplings and matted briars, retching at the rank smell as he disturbed the decay beneath him, at first impervious to the needle pricks of the brambles, lost in the greater pain and then in the awful fear as a dreadful lime-green light finally flowed right over him.

All around the vegetation began to glow and seemed to swell and fill with obscene life, suckers starting out of the ground, tendrils looping and twisting, the briars clutching and scratching at his body, their thickening snakes of thorn wreathing him in coils and tightening their grisly grip.

Now something was curling around his neck…

His whole body shuddered as he tried to jerk his head free, but that very action brought the great barbs cutting into his skin, ripping open the flesh of his throat. He fell back, twitching, choking, and then lay still at last with the bright red blood slowly pumping and oozing from his wounds.

Luther Speke took a long time to die. There was still the faintest flicker of life in his eyes when the dawn came.

But with the morning came the crows…

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.