Rose of Thanks

 

Hi krystyna, your story Captain oh my Captain has received a Rose of Thanks on its review page in the fan fiction library.

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Emmy

By

Krystyna

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The room was stiflingly warm as the sun streamed through the windows and the flames from the fire threw out their heat.   One of the men stood up, pushing aside his chair as he did so, and walked to a window to push open the casement,

 

“Do you have to have that perishing fire alight, O’Brien?” he asked, although his voice had a lightness in it that saved the question from being too severe  a rebuke.

 

“Sorry, Jotham, since my illness I seem always to feel the cold.” the young man seated at the desk replied although his eyes were still scanning the letter he held in one hand while with the other he tapped out a tuneless rhythm  on the desk top.

 

“Your orders aren’t going to change just by continually reading them, you know.” Jotham  Morton smiled now and returned to the vacant chair which he pulled closer to the desk,  “If it was possible to wear out a piece of paper you would have done by now.   Why not just put it down,  leave it alone for a while and give your brain a rest.   Come on, this is my first time in San Francisco and I want to explore.”

 

“Mmm, I’ve never been here before either.” O’Brien sighed and shook his head, slowly he placed the papers back in the thick buff envelope with the Government seal on it and slipped it into his portmanteau.    “Ah well, at least we are part way to achieving something I suppose.   We have actually managed to arrive here.”

 

His voice sounded glum, and he shook his head, pursed his lips and stroked his chin.

 

“Look, O’Brien, what’s there to worry about?   Your orders were to look up Cartwright, put the matter before him and if he agrees then - well, we can get started.  If he doesn’t agree then we have to go back to the drawing board, so to speak.” he shrugged, and observed his cousin thoughtfully. 

 

“I don’t think he’ll agree to this,  Jotham, I think he’ll point blank refuse and I can’t say I’ll blame him if he does.   I somehow resent the fact that I’ve been the one ordered to confront him with it all.  You’d have thought there were others that could have gone to see him.”

 

“Oh those men in the Government didn’t get there just by rattling their brains, cousin, they do sometimes know what they’re doing.  They know that Cartwright liked and respected you, that’s why you’ve been sent on this errand.”  he smiled impishly, his eyes twinkled, “ And I’ve been sent along with you to make sure you get there, because they know how fond of me you are -.” and he broke off into a chuckle and folded his hands behind his head at the same time tipping back his chair onto its back legs and  gazing up at the ceiling.

 

O’Brien frowned again.   Here they both were in a very pleasant hotel in San Francisco, their ship berthed in the somewhat over crowded harbour, on an errand that had taken him from the side of his dear sweet new bride when a few cables would have done just as well.   He sighed heavily and ran a finger around his collar.   It had been two years since he had parted company with Adam Cartwright.  He had heard various rumours of what had happened to his friend, things about the Captain having resigned his commission to go looking for one of his brothers who had got lost and entangled with some Indians and, of all things, got himself mixed up with George Custer of all people.  George Custer!   O’Brien shook his head, if there was one man he personally would avoid like the plague it was George Custer.

 

What else had he heard?   He leaned his chin  upon the steeple of his fingers and stared out at the flames of the fire, thinking back to the snippets of information that had come his way.  Adam Cartwright had settled back to his old life on the Ponderosa, working along with his brothers and father.   He pursed his lips and the creases in his brow deepened.

 

“The whole idea is ridiculous -”

 

“The more you think about it the more ridiculous it will seem to be,” Jotham replied and once again he rose to his feet, “Come on,  let’s go and have a look around the place.  It’s a while since I’ve been in civilian clothes and there’s places I’d like to see while I am here.”

 

“I’ll have to book seats for us on the stage coach.”  O’Brien eased himself out of his chair, “Unless you would prefer to go  by horseback?”

 

“You are joking I take it?  Have you ever seen any of the Mortons’ on horseback?”

 

“No,  come to think of it, I haven’t” O’Brien allowed himself a smile, “ Stagecoach it is then.  Carson City or Virginia City?  I can’t think which is the closer of the two to the Ponderosa.”

 

“I’m sure if you ask someone will tell you.” his cousin replied, snatching up his hat and that of his cousin which he tossed over to him, “Come along, we’ll eat first, and then book the tickets.”

 

O’Brien nodded, looked regretfully at the fire as though sad to leave it’s cosy flames and left the room, closing and locking the door behind him.  

 

……………………….

 

Ben Cartwright pulled open the big door of his ranch house and walked to the hitching rail in the yard.  It was an early morning start and he stood there still wearing his burgundy dressing gown and slippers.   In his hand he held a cup of steaming coffee.   He stood alone and in silence.  Then he raised his head high and half closed his eyes, took a very deep breath of the clean fresh morning air.  His lungs expanded and his nostrils flared and as he allowed the breath to pass his lips he smiled, nodded. Unmistakeable!   Delightful!   It was spring time and with spring time there was the promise of new growth, more work, another year of life.   The thought compelled him to lower his head and to thank his Creator for the joys to come, to supplicate for the strength to endure any hardships, to thank Him for the beauties of the earth that spring time brought forth.

 

Adam Cartwright took a deep intake of breath and sighed.  He reined in Sport and paused to look about him with narrowed dark eyes and a slight frown on his brow.   His eyes scanned the wide range about him, and noted the amount of damage the heavy winter snows had caused among the tall pines.   He saw where blizzards and heavy ice had cracked and bullied the huge boulders from their allotted places to fall haphazardly upon the trees and upon the narrow track that they had carved out the previous year.   He pushed his hat to the back of his head and shook it slowly from side to side.  This would mean weeks of work getting everything cleared away to make the track  less hazardous for their workmen.  He rode onwards and paused to survey the new saplings.  He smiled and dismounted, leaving Sports reins trailing on the ground.

 

He ran his hand over the bark of the young tree and smiled again.  He put his hand to his nostrils and smelt the tang of the fresh new pine.  The sap was rising.  It was spring time.  There would be plenty of work among the pines throughout the year to come.

 

He remounted his horse and rode slowly towards home.  It was a beautiful day.  He could smell the clean freshness of the trees in the air and quite unconsciously he began to hum a little tune beneath his breath

 

“In the pines, in the pines,

Where the sun never shines …”

 

He smiled slowly and glanced up as the sun beamed down upon him and once again he took a deep long draught of the spring time air.

 

Hoss Cartwright held the pie beneath his nose and inhaled the warm crusty smell and the sweet tangy aroma of Mrs Greens delicious home baked pie, he smiled with pleasure.

 

“Go on, Hoss, eat it up now, I want every last bit eaten.” Mrs Green chuckled.

 

Hoss’ mouth opened and his teeth hovered and came down with the relentlessness of a terrier finding a rat.   He chomped on it happily and nodded silent approval, his eyes twinkled with sheer pleasure.   He would hate to tell Hop Sing, but Mrs Greens home bakes beat just about everybody else’s.

 

“Hoss, come and see this -” little Sally Green called out from the back door, beckoning to the big man with the biggest smile on her face since - well - since the previous spring time.

 

A colt, steam drifting into the air, wobbling on four skinny fragile legs.  Billy and Sally were standing on the bottom bars of the stall and watched as Hoss came to lean alongside them,

 

“Ain’t she a beauty, Hoss?” Sally exclaimed.

 

The colt wobbled, toppled, landed on its backside with a look of sheer amazement on its face.  Mother came and nuzzled one ear, licked the other, and both children exclaimed “Aaaaah”

 

 

“Spring time -” Joseph Cartwright murmured softly as he reached out to take the hand of the girl sitting at the table opposite him, “is the time of beauty, romance, flowers - and love.” he smiled what he hoped was his most ’killing’ smile, half closed his hazel eyes and raised the girl’s fingers to his lips,

 

“Joe Cartwright” she giggled as he kissed her fingers, “You must have said that same thing to about every girl in the saloon here,” but she didn’t pull her hand away, as he gently caressed her wrist.

 

“Oh I wouldn’t quite say that,” Joe said quietly, and he looked up at her face, and smiled again, “How about I hire a buggy and show you how lovely the Ponderosa is in spring time.  The fields, the meadows, the spring flowers …”

 

“Careful there, honey,” a girl called over from the stair way, “I went with him last year and …”

 

“Did you enjoy it?” the other girl laughed, looking at Joe’s handsome face and not really bothered about seeing spring flowers when she could spend hours looking into those lovely eyes and that handsome face.

 

The other girl laughed and Joe Cartwright raised his eyebrows questioningly, his eyes looked quizzical and pained as she leaned closer.

 

Spring time - oh, the beauties of spring time, the promises and the hopes, the anticipation and the joys.

 

In San Francisco two men booked their tickets for the trip to Virginia City en route to an appointment with a man they had not seen for  over a year.

 

 

Chapter 2

 

“Morning, Lou - got a few hungry customers for  ya.”

 

“Foods cooking - best git ‘em inside.   Looks like a hot ‘un today.”

 

“Yeah, I swallered more dust than there is in the Mojave -”  Hank spat a stream of muck into the dust as he clambered from his seat, then he rubbed his backside with his calloused hands as he walked to the door which he flung open,   “Everybody out, grubs waiting.”

 

Lou scratched his chin through several days of stubble and watched as two tall young men unravelled themselves and appeared into view, both of them looking rather round eyed, like a couple of owls Lou thought, as they looked around them at the view of the way station.  One of them suddenly remembered his manners and turned to assist an elderly lady and a younger lady from the interior of the stage coach.

 

“How much further do we have to travel in this box?” the older woman demanded as she brushed dust from her clothes and strode towards the rather precariously built way station building.

 

“’Pends on whereabouts you is headed,” Lou replied rather tartly.

 

“Virginia City, and if you tell me another two days I’m liable to drop dead on your doorstep -” she paused, “If you had a doorstep.”

 

“Yeah, well, it ain’t another two days, s’matter of fact, it’s just the next few hours.” but over his shoulder he winked at no one in particular.

 

Jotham Morton sighed and glanced anxiously at his cousin before raising his hat politely to the young woman as she passed him,

 

“Seems that a few hours could be stretching to longer.” he muttered as he followed the two women into the dark interior of the shack, “We’ll probably be poisoned here.”

 

“It was no worse than being shut up in a cabin during a nor’westerly, Jotham, and I doubt if they have to knock weevils out of their biscuits.” O’Brien chuckled as he passed through the door to be greeted by the smell of strong coffee, tobacco and stew.

 

“I’m changing the hosses, Lou”  Hank yelled from the doorway, “Don’t you waste all that grub on them thar passengers, and save me some of that thar sourdough bread of your’n.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever -” Lou waved the other man away and led the four passengers to a large table, indicated the bench seats upon which they were to sit and then turned his attention to the huge pot simmering and spitting on the stove.  “Coffee’s ready for pourin’ jest git on with it.” and he waved a bony hand towards a pot that was doing its fair share of spitting.   There were several mugs lined up next to it.

 

The two women hesitated as to whether or not they should take up the offer but it was Jotham who reached the coffee pot first and gingerly poured the steaming black liquid into the mugs.  A jug of milk and some store bought sugar was already on the table.  He smiled at the older woman

 

“Here you are, Mrs Huggins, good and strong. That’ll put -” he paused, he was going to say hairs on your chest but realised he was addressing the wrong gender, “some heart into you.”

 

“Kill me as like as not,” she mumbled looking at the brew with discernible disgust, “Letty,  pass me the milk.”

 

Letty Huggins, daughter of the aforementioned, duly passed milk and sugar to her mother and smiled her thanks to Jotham.  Everyone struggled onto the bench seats.

 

“Tell me, Lou, how far is it to the Ponderosa?” O’Brien asked, as he stirred sugar into his coffee.

 

“Wal, now -” Lou scratched his chin again “’pends on who’s askin’ and for why?”

 

Jotham and O’Brien glanced at one another and raised their eyebrows, but Lou got on with his stirring and clattering down some rather old and chipped plates.  The door opened and slammed shut as Hank and the co-driver, Pete, strode towards the table,

They took their seats after pouring out mugs of coffee and bringing them along with them,

 

“We’re friends of Adam Cartwright.” Jotham said.

 

“Some friends if’n you don’t know where to find him.” Lou sniffed, hawked and spat onto the stove making the spittle sizzle.

 

Letty turned her face away with a gasp and placed a hand on where she supposed her heart to be, she was a genteel young lady and unused to such commonplace manners. Her mother, made of sterner stuff, gave Lou a glare that would have brought blushes to any other man, but Lou was concentrating on his stew and giving it a vigorous stir.

 

“These folk are green horns, Lou, you gotta realise that -” Hank chuckled, “didn’t you realise with them thar fancy duds?”

 

“Oh yeah, fancy alrighty” Lou shuffled out plates as though he were dealing out cards and they clattered upon the table with varying degrees of noise, he then swung over the big pot and began to ladle out the stew which smelt amazingly good.   A platter of bread was then placed before them and spoons and knives were tossed in a heap for them to help themselves.

 

“Do you know the Cartwrights at all?” Jotham now asked, almost scalding his lips on the stew.

 

“Do we know the Cartwrights?  Huh, do we know the Cartwrights, Hank? ” the other two men nodded and laughed, “Around these parts everyone knows the Cartwrights.  Shucks, they own just about 1000 square miles of land, mountains of gold and silver they’re sitting on, don’t you know?”  he sat down at the head of the table and ladled himself some of the stew, frowned and glared down at his passengers having realised that the dumplings had already been divided between them and leaving him none.  “Now, Ben Cartwright is the boss man, mind you, having said that since Adam Cartwright came back he’s taken up the reins in a lotta ways.”

 

“Nah, Adam Cartwright always did do a lot on that ranch, he and his Pa were more like business partners than anything else.  Good team to work fer,” Pete provided the information before  swallowing  one of the dumplings.

 

“He went away to sea some time back,” Lou volunteered, “Came back and you’d never have thought he’d ever been away.  Reckon it’ll take some doing to prise him away from the Ponderosa now.”

 

“What do you want to see them about anyhow?” Hank asked, looking at the two men as though they had no right to claim any of the Cartwrights time without their permission to do so,.

 

“Oh, just looking up old friends.” Jotham said hurriedly.

 

“We were on the same ship as Adam, got to know him well.” O’Brien gave them the benefit of his handsome smile and received a sweet one from Letty, a scowl from Mrs Huggins and a narrow eyed look from the three men.

 

“Don’t you go trying to git him back on any of them boats.” Lou pointed his knife at O’Brien, “The Cartwrights won’t like that -”

 

“No, I don’t suppose they will.” O’Brien sighed and decided to pay more attention to his stew.

 

……………….

 

Joseph Cartwright dismounted from Cochise and tethered him to the hitching rail outside the Telegraph office.  He stood for a while, just a second or so, to look up and down the main street, before giving his hat a slight twitch and turning to the sidewalk.  Odd how restless he had been those years ago, he mused as he pushed open the door of the building.   Since he had returned home he had lost any desire to go wandering again.   He bumped into someone just ahead of him, apologised and touched the brim of his hat when the young woman smiled at him. 

 

He had overheard Pa saying to Paul Martin that he had come home with the stuffing knocked out of him, and although it was odd phraseology  it had more or less summed up the feeling.  But now, apart from the hard feeling in his heart that seemed to be there perpetually, he was quite settled.  No one would have guessed that Joe Cartwright with his twinkling eyes and wide generous grin, still harboured a lot of pain beneath the veneer of his bon homie.  He flirted with the girls, took them on pic-nics, danced at the socials, looked out for  one who could melt that lump of pain away but found none to do so.  

 

“Joe?”

 

He jumped, startled into awareness and looked at Tom who was staring with his mouth wide open at him.  Not that that was unusual, Tom was often staring with his mouth wide open, he had problems with his nose which affected his breathing, so he told everyone anyway.  Joe smiled and nodded,

 

“Came for the mail, Tom.”

 

“Here it is, Joe.  How’s your Pa?”

 

“He’s good, thanks.”

 

“Adam? Hoss?”

 

“Yeah, they’re fine, thanks, Tom.”

 

Usual questions, same replies.  Joe nodded, took the leather pouch containing the Ponderosa’s mail and left Tom to get on with his business.   He closed the door firmly behind him and looked out at the hustle and bustle going on in town that morning.

 

A few years back the dull routine of life had got to him and he had left it behind him, left the Ponderosa, Pa and Hoss.   Now it was like a  blanket, secure and comforting,  reassuring and safe wrapped around him.   He had never realised how much life here had meant to him.  How true the old saying,  you never missed it until you didn’t have it.  How he had missed home.

 

“Hey, Joe,  you gonna stand there all day?”

 

Hoss gave his little brother a nudge and grinned as Joe’s eyes twinkled back to life.  Hoss nodded,

 

“That’s better, thought for a moment what we took for brains in that head of yours had jest gone and got itself fried.”

 

“Sure is hot enough.”  Joe smiled, and followed his brother across the street, avoiding being run over by a wagon driven by Mr Hogan,  “I didn’t expect you to be in town.  Didn’t Pa send you over to Millers Creek?”

 

“Sure, I bin and come back ain’t I?”  Hoss raised his eyebrows and thumbed his hat to the back of his head, “Thought I’d join you in town.”

 

“Is Adam with you?”

 

“Nah, he’s still checking out the timber, reckon he’ll be home tomorrow though.” Hoss paused and watched as the stagecoach rattled into town, while at the same time fishing about in his top pocket for the list of things Hop Sing had given him earlier.  “I gotta go git some stuff for Hop Sing.   How about a drink after?”

 

Joe nodded,  his eyes fixed on the stagecoach.  He always had enjoyed watching passengers as they stepped out of the stage.  As a boy he had watched them and wondered where they had come from and why they had travelled all the way here, to Virginia City.  Of course it was obvious then, there was the gold strike, the Comstock Lode, all that was going on, the history of their territory in the making and he had been part of it.  He smiled slowly as he watched an elderly lady clamber down, then a pretty young lady close behind her, obviously related by the way she had taken the other woman by the elbow and led her away from the stage.  Then, two men, well dressed, smart, brushing dust from their jacket and smiling bemusedly at one another.

 

“Are you coming, Joe?” 

 

“Sure, sure -” he grinned, then looked back at the two men and wondered who they were, and why they had travelled to Virginia City.

 

He was soon to find out.

 

Chapter 3

 

Chores finally completed, Hop Sings herbs safely tucked away in the saddle bags and the pouch containing the mail slung over Joe’s saddle horn, the two brothers made their way to the Bucket of Blood saloon.   It was Hoss who pushed open the wing bat doors and Joe who followed close in his wake, pushing back his hat so that an unruly curl flopped forwards over his brow.  He smiled at Monica who winked back at him, her arm draped loosely over the shoulder of some skinny miner who had obviously struck pay dirt recently.

 

“Hi, boys, the usual?”

 

Hoss nodded as Joe slouched against the counter staring at his reflection in the mirror behind Eric, the new bar keep.   It didn’t take long for the man behind the counter  to know his regulars usual tipples.  Joe pouted slightly as he remembered how irritated he had become by the mere routine of his life some years ago,  how even the fact that the bar tender of the time knew exactly what drink he preferred but now he found the fact merely a token that he was part of the fabric of life here in Virginia City.

 

“Grab a table, Joe, and I’ll bring them over.” Hoss said while he fussed in his pockets for some loose change, he flipped the necessary coins to Eric and picked up the glasses.

 

Joe put his hand on the back of a chair just as another young man pulled out the chair next to it.  They were at an impasse, both straightened their backs and stepped away from the chairs a pace,

 

“Mine, I think -” said the newcomer.

 

“I don’t think so,” Joe replied calmly enough but a scowl settling on his face.  He was not prepared to back down to a perfect stranger, one of the men he now realised who had only an hour earlier stepped off the stage coach.

 

“That’s alright,” a man’s voice came behind Joe, “there’s another table, Jotham, over here.”

 

Jotham Morton gave Joe a narrow eyed look and followed his cousin to the other table, he pulled the chair out noisily and thumped its legs down on the floor before taking his seat.  One table along Joe was doing exactly the same.

 

“C’mon, Joe, they’re jest newcomers to town,” Hoss  muttered as he put down their glasses on the table, “Don’t want them to think we ain’t hospitable, do we?”

 

Joe said nothing but passed it off with a shrug, he picked up his glass and was about to speak when Jennifer drifted by, paused, and draped her arm across his shoulders,

 

“Hi, Joe, honey, you still thinking of taking me for that picnic?” she smiled her plastic smile at him, and he shook his head,

 

“Nope,  too late, Jenny.”

 

“Oh come now,  I was for sure looking forward to that -” she pouted and looked at Hoss, “Hoss, honey, Joe promised me a ride in a hired buggy and a picnic on the Ponderosa. He was going to show me his favourite place of all.”

 

“Shucks, Joe, why’d ya want to hire a buggy?  We got a decent enough one at the Ponderosa, don’t we?” and Hoss chuckled over at his brother as he raised his glass to his lips.

 

“Sorry, Jenny.  Another time.”  Joe grinned at her and was about to speak to Hoss when he noticed that one of the men, the one who had redirected his companion to the other table, had turned to look over at them.  He raised his eyebrows, “Anything I can do for you?” he asked in a off handed manner as he tilted his chair onto its back legs.

 

“I’m  sorry,” O’Brien stood up and walked towards them, “I couldn’t help but overhear the young lady mention the Ponderosa.   Do you men  work there by any chance?”

 

Hoss and Joe looked at one another, Hoss lowered his head and smirked, with his back to the stranger his grin went unnoticed,  and he darted a blue eyed gaze at his brother who  now rocked the chair back and forth a little while he pushed his glass too and fro on the table,

 

“Sure, we work there.”

 

“Er - you wouldn’t by any chance know Mr Cartwright and his sons, would you?”

 

“Sure, sure, we know them.  You’re not angling for a job there yourselves, are you?” he frowned slightly, straightened himself in the chair and lowered his hat a little to shade his eyes.

 

“No,  we’re not angling for a job there.” O’Brien replied, wondering why he had the feeling he was being made fun of and not particularly liking it.

 

“Oh, that’s good.   I’d hardly recommend it, you being so dandified and such.  Mr Cartwright - well, he can be a mite particular about the men he employs.”  he nudged Hoss, “Ain’t that right?”

 

“Yep, that’s sure right enough.” Hoss replied although he didn’t turn to look at O’Brien but took a long drink from his glass.

 

“Fact of the matter is -” Joe leaned forward, “He can be a bit of a tyrant.  Doesn’t pay much, expects his men to work all hours, foods rubbish, and only allows us in town once a month.”

 

“Is that so?” OBrien frowned, and scratched the back of his neck, “That doesn’t sound exactly fair.   What about his son, Adam Cartwright?”

 

“By hickory, he’s even worse than his Pa.   Cracks the whip from dawn to dusk, don’t he just, Hoss?”

 

“Sure does.”  came the reply, smothered a little as Hoss had his nose buried in the glass.

 

“I see.” O’Brien nodded and turned away, “Thank you, gentlemen, for the information.”

 

“My pleasure.  Always best to know what you’re getting into before you get into it, is my motto.” Joe replied and raised his glass to them in a comradely manner.

 

O’Brien sat with his back to the brothers and pulled his glass towards him, he leaned towards Jotham and smiled,

 

“They’re Adam’s little brothers.” he said in a whisper, “Adam told us enough about them for me to remember their names at least.”

 

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself to them?” Jotham replied.

 

O’Brien shook his head, and smiled again

 

“No.  It would be churlish to spoil their little game just now.   Perhaps later…” and he raised his glass to his lips and was about to drink deep when there came a bellow of rage from one of the gaming tables.

 

The Cartwright brothers, O’Brien and Morton turned to see what was happening just in time to see a table winging its way towards them, followed closely by a scattering of cards and poker chips.   Jotham rose to his feet as the table crashed against the back of his chair and pulled Jennifer down towards him as a chair swiftly followed the table in their direction.

 

It took less time that it takes to place a glass upon a table for the fight to break out in earnest.  The saloon girls scattered up the stairs while big Frank Cassidy and two other men began to swing fists and generally toss one another across the saloon floor.

 

Joe sat and watched wondering which of the three would be flat on the floor first, while Hoss wondered whether or not he should wade in and break the fight up before there was too much damage done.    As it happened the doors swung open and Roy stepped in, his rifle loose under his arm.

 

“That’s enough now.” he yelled, and when no one seemed to be taking any notice he yelled once again, “Enough!”  and for good measure he fired his rifle in the air.  Some plaster fluttered down from the ceiling and one of the glass bowls of the light fitting shattered.

 

“Alright, Frank, come along with me -”

 

“It weren’t my fault -”

 

“It’s always your fault, come along.”

 

“It weren’t this time, sheriff, believe me it weren’t.”

 

“Come along now,.” Roy sighed and grabbed at Frank’s arm, “You two had better clear up the mess you’ve made here, then come over and make a statement over at my office.”

 

Jotham released Jennifer, she scampered to her feet, flashed him a dazzling smile and thanked him softly before sashaying back to the counter.

 

Joe and Hoss finished their drinks and without even the merest of glances at the two strangers walked out of the saloon,

 

“Frank always has to make a show of things, don’t he?” Hoss muttered as he watched the big man being hauled away by Roy, it was rather like watching a Great Dane being led away on a lead by a dachshound.

 

“Yep, and in front of strangers too.” Joe replied, set his hat straight and walked with his brother to his horse.

 

O’Brien approached Eric as the man bustled pass him with a broom in order to clear up the mess

 

“I believe those two gentlemen were Hoss and Joe Cartwright from the Ponderosa?”

 

“Yes, sir, that’s correct.”

 

“Is their brother Adam in town today, do you know?”

 

“If he were he’d have been in here with them.”

 

“He is still on the Ponderosa then?”

 

“Of course he is,” Eric looked amazed at such a question, “Where else would he be?”

 

O’Brien said nothing to that but smiled, nodded in agreement, and then settled back in his chair.

 

“We’ll go out later, let those two jokers get home first.” he said to his cousin with a twinkle in his eye.

 

………………

 

Ben Cartwright glanced up from itemising a list of necessities for the spring cattle drive and listened to the footsteps, the door closing, the mutter of voices.  He smiled slowly to himself then resumed writing down his list.

 

“Have a good day in town?” his deep voice turned corners and filled the room followed promptly by the clock striking 3!

 

“Sure, got the mail here, Pa.” Joe hoisted the pouch up for his father to see, and then slumped down onto the settee,  “Adam back yet?”

 

“Not yet.  Should be home later today or early tomorrow.”  Ben put down his pen and stretched his arms high above his head.  

 

Hoss picked up an apple and bit into it, before settling down in the big leather chair .  He reached over and picked up a book that was face down on the table, glanced at the title and then set it back down again.

 

“Shucks I’m so hungry I could eat Hop Sing.” he lamented as he chomped on the apple.

 

“There were some men in town asking after you, Pa.” Joe flicked dust from his trouser leg and yawned, “They got off the stage this morning and were in the saloon  when we went in.  Wanted to know about you and Adam.”

 

“Really? “ Ben rose to his feet and walked to his chair which Hoss hastily abandoned, taking instead a corner of the settee.  “What were they like?   Looking for work?  We need more men for the cattle drive.”

 

“No, Pa, they weren’t looking for work.” Joe grinned, “They looked real smart, Easterners I reckon.”

 

“Mmmm,  perhaps it has something to do with the new railway contract I’ve been negotiating.”

 

“Could be.” Joe  thought back to the looks of the two men and frowned slightly,  “They were polite enough.”

 

“Oh - mmm.” Ben frowned,  picked up the leather pouch and emptied the mail onto the low table,  Hoss reached out for another apple, Joe waited to hear if there was mail for him.

 

From the kitchen area came the pleasant smells and sounds of a meal being prepared which made Hoss’ stomach rumble.   Apart from the sound of the letters being placed onto the table there was relative silence - oh, there was the sound of Hoss chomping on the apple but that only lasted as long as it took him to eat it, a matter of a minute or two.

 

“Ah, here’s a letter for you both -” Ben smiled and raised his head to survey them both, “Candy’s hand writing.”

 

Hoss, having the longer arm, grabbed for it first and snatched if from his father’s hand before Joe had managed to get out of his chair.  He tossed the apple core into the hearth and tore open the envelope, then smiled over at Joe,

 

“Here y’are, short shanks, you can read it out for us to hear.” he said in his warm way, and then settled back onto the settee with his hands folded in his lap and waited for Joe to read Candy’s letter.

 

“Dear friends,

 

I am now in Arizona territory.  Pretty dry and hot here, which must sound familiar.  I traced Ann down, but have to admit that that chapter of my life is now a closed book.  For some while I have to admit that I didn’t know what to do with myself, but have decided that, if you will consider it as okay, I would like to come back to the Ponderosa and work along with you all.

 

If I reckon right there should be the spring round up due.  I shall do what I can to reach the Ponderosa before you leave.  I sure hope that is alright with you, Mr Cartwright, and hope to see you soon.

 

With respect - Candy Canady.”

 

 

Chapter 4 

 

O’Brien drew the horses into a slow walk which brought the buggy close to a stand still as he and Jotham looked down onto the lake, one of the most magnificent of views on all the Ponderosa.  Ponderosa Pine clad the mountainsides, and their reflection was a mirror image in the glass like surface of the waters .   Like the sky it reflected, the sky was a perfect blue.   The sun shone down creating a glow of gold upon  the just discernible waves of the water. 

 

“It’s beautiful, just like he always said.” O’Brien said quietly and his brow furrowed slightly, “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to leave this behind.”

 

“He did it once before, Daniel.” Jotham replied just as quietly, equally as awed as his cousin at the sight that was spread out before him.

 

“I know, but it didn’t take him long to regret it.” and with a tug on the reins  O’Brien set the horses into a fast gallop, as though to put as much distance between themselves and the magnetic pull of the beauty behind them.

 

They rode along in silence for some while, the horses hooves beating up a fine dust on the dry surface of the track that snaked forever forwards.   At his feet was the portmanteau that contained the vital papers that O’Brien had been commanded to place only in Adam’s hands.  His mind was even now searching for the best time, the best way, he could produce them when there came the sound of horses from behind them.

 

“Daniel, I think we have company -” Jotham said very calmly, and as a bullet whistled above their heads he gulped, “Not friendly company either.”

 

O’Brien turned his head, saw three men galloping fast behind them, guns drawn and levelled towards them.  He inhaled sharply and slapped down the reins, urging the horses into a faster gallop.

 

Jotham gripped the arm rest of his seat as the buggy bounded over rocks and skidded over the ruts in the track, he turned to look back and ducked as several shots skimmed past his head.   Without a word from O’Brien he pulled up the rifle that had  been propped against the seat between them, and took careful aim.  The shot went wild as the buggy bounced once again, and three shots were sent back in reply.  He fired off several more times, before yelling a warning to his cousin that they were gaining on them.

 

O’Brien cracked down the reins and the horses craned their necks forwards and stretched out their legs, slathering now and their coats showing the first slick of sweat.  Jotham fired off another shot and then gave a cry of pain as a bullet from the gunmen found its mark and lodged in his arm.  The rifle cluttered down, rolled from the buggy into the track as his fingers became numb and nerveless. 

 

One of the pursuers was already abreast of the buggy and reached out to grab the reins from O’Brien who tried desperately to prevent him from doing so but the sight of the gun levelled at his head, and at such close quarters, made him realise that flight was no longer possible.   He allowed the horses to come to a halt before turning to Jotham,

 

“Is it very bad?” he asked kindly.

 

“Bad enough,” Jotham sighed, closing his eyes and leaning hard back into the seat, hoping, erroneously, that the pressure would relieve him of some of the pain.

 

The other two men now approached, slowed their horses and came to the side of the buggy, their guns level to the cousins’ heads and only their eyes visible between the brims of their hats and the edge of their bandana’s

 

“Hand over the documents.” the first who had reached them now demanded, “I know you have them with you in the portmanteau.  Don’t try to do anything clever, just reach down and take the documents from the portmanteau and hand them to me.”

 

“I can’t do that -” O’Brien’s mouth ran dry.

 

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to otherwise your cousin there will find that there is one quick way to relieve him of any pain - now and in the future.”

 

The sound of a trigger being pulled back made O’Brien go pale, and he looked anxiously at his cousin who was already white to the lips with pain, blood edging  between his fingers where he was clutching at his arm.  He was about to lean forward when there was the crack of a rifle and one of the gunmen gave a cry of pain, dropped his gun, and gripped his lower arm.

 

They spun their horses round now,  eyes alert for whoever was hidden in the rocks, the two men who were still armed  fired in the direction they assumed the shot had come from but without much hope of success.

 

“Get the portmanteau and give it to me.” the first man yelled, his gun now swinging back towards O’Brien.

 

Daniel O’Brien saw when he was given a chance and seized it now.  With a yell he slapped down the reins once again and the buggy lurched forwards, the horseman had just enough time to move his horse aside to avoid the back of the vehicle striking against him.  As he dithered upon whether to give chase or not there came two shots from the rocks, one too close to his gun arm for him to consider doing anything other than to turn back along the track with his men in close company with him.

 

A tall man dressed all in black rose to his feet and fired another shot at the three men as they made a rapid retreat from the vicinity of the ambush.  He stood for some moments watching to make sure that they were not prepared to turn back before he made his way to a handsome chestnut horse patiently awaiting his return.  Without a word he saddled up and with a twist of his wrist pulled the reins that would turn his horse down towards the track.

 

As they made their way through the boulders Adam Cartwright slid his rifle into its sheath, and galloped without haste along the track towards home, at a safe distance from the buggy in order to give them time to reach the ranch house before him.    He needed time to think, to wonder why O’Brien, late of the good ship Redoubt, and his cousin Jotham Morton, would be this far away from sea.  He also wanted to mull over the reason why three men would venture onto the Ponderosa to bushwhack them.

 

He knew he would get the answers from O’Brien, but for some reason, was in no hurry to receive them.

 

Chapter 5

 

Hoss was the first to reach the buggy.  They had heard the sound of the vehicle approaching the ranch and mumbled, as is often the case, as to who would be visiting now and waiting to see who would be first to open the door.  So Hoss got to his feet and opened the door in time to see O’Brien already clambering down from his seat, and preparing to go to the far side where his cousin was slumped.

 

“Hold up thar, fella,” Hoss cried and hurried across the porch to the buggy and was at O’Brien’s side in time to help him lift Jotham down and help him into the house, by which time Joe and Ben were already on the porch.

 

“What happened to him?” Joe asked, stepping back to make way for Hoss and O’Brien who were almost carrying the injured man into the house.

 

“Some men came out of nowhere,” O’Brien muttered curtly, “Shot at us -”

 

“Whereabouts?” Ben frowned, disliking the fact that an ambush may have taken place on the Ponderosa on men who were obviously preparing to be the guests of the Cartwrights.

 

“Oh - just after the lake.  We were coming here -” O’Brien paused and looked at Hoss who had settled Jotham onto the settee and was examining the wound, “How is he?”

 

“It looks worse than it is,” Hoss replied and glanced up at the other man with a kindly expression in his eyes, “All the jogging about in the buggy just caused it to bleed more and look messy.” he removed his hand from the bloodied clothing and shrugged, “We’ll know better when we get his jacket and shirt off of him.  Guess Hop Sing could see to it, huh, Pa?”

 

“Yes, son, go get him, will you?”  Ben murmured quietly as he stepped closer to O’Brien, “I’m Ben Cartwright, you’ve just met my sons, Joe and Hoss.”

 

“Yes, sir, thank you.” O’Brien nodded, shook Ben’s proffered hand warmly, and then Joe’s.  All thought of the teasing he was going to put Joe and Hoss through about the earlier encounter at the saloon now gone from his mind, “Would you excuse me just a moment, sir.”

 

“Er - yes - of course.” Ben replied and turned with a puzzled expression on his face as O’Brien hurried out of the house.

 

Hop Sing, followed by Hoss, approached the injured man and got down to the task of seeing to the injury, while Joe glanced over at his brother and raised his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders and grimaced.

 

“Hey, Joe, ain’t these the two fella’s that were in the saloon earlier?” Hoss whispered and Joe nodded, then nudged his brother’s arm as a hint for silence when the door opened and O’Brien re-entered holding tightly onto a black leather portmanteau.

 

“I’m sorry.   I - I can’t leave these papers out of sight, you understand. Oh - of course you wouldn’t understand. I’m sorry.  My name’s Daniel O’Brien, my cousin - Jotham Morton.”

 

The three men looked blankly at him, Ben nodded encouragingly as though that would spur the man to say more, but O’Brien only stepped closer to the settee to look down at Jotham and to ask Hop Sing if he would be alright.

 

“Arm not badly broken,” Hop Sing replied, “Bullet pass through.  Messy but not kill friend.  Soon be good and on feet as good as new.” he beamed his reassurance up at him before returning to his task of cleaning out the wound and bandaging it up.

 

O’Brien turned to face Ben, his eyes flicked from one Cartwright to another, and he smiled,

 

“Funny, but you’re exactly as I pictured you to be - even Hop Sing -” his eyes twinkled and the anxious look previously seen on his face lifted as good humour and pleasure mantled his features, “Adam spoke so much about you all that there were times when it was as though I had been transported here as he spoke.   Is he here?”

 

“No.” Joe replied shortly, his eyes narrowed slightly, “Perhaps you should tell us a little bit more about yourself, Mr O’Brien.”

 

“Lieutenant O’Brien, formerly of the ship Redoubt.”  Daniel O’Brien said quietly and scanned their faces seeing the looks of recognition along with consternation flit across their faces.   “Adam mentioned me perhaps?”

 

“He did, young man.  Very favourably too.” Ben smiled warmly, in his usual hospitable manner and he gestured to the armchair, “Please, make yourself comfortable.  We were due to eat before you came -”

 

“I’m sorry our arrival has been rather ill timed,” O’Brien interrupted hastily, “My only thought was to get here as soon as I could with Jotham.   If it hadn’t been for  whoever was hidden in the rocks and fired at the men who had us at gunpoint I doubt if either my cousin or I would be here now.”

 

“Someone in the rocks?”  Hoss frowned and glanced over at Joe.

 

It was at this point that Jotham regained consciousness and with a groan and some help from Hop Sing was raised into a sitting position,

 

“Jotham -” Daniel stepped to his side, “May I introduce Mr Ben Cartwright, Mr Hoss Cartwright and Mr Joseph Cartwright.”

 

“How d’you do,  er - sorry - I feel a bit hazy -” he put his hand to his head, and frowned slightly, “Isn’t Adam here?”

 

“I’m afraid not, but he could be here sometime this evening or tomorrow.” Ben replied, and he smiled kindly, “You’re very welcome to join us for dinner, and to stay the night.  We’ve plenty of room and I think we would much rather you stayed here than journey back to town when it’s dark if there are ambushers about.”

 

“Don’t much like the thought of gun men here on the Ponderosa, but it’s a big place and not easy to police.” Hoss explained his eyes flicking from O’Brien to Jotham who was having his arm securely bandaged by Hop Sing.

 

“I can understand that” Daniel nodded and looked at his cousin, then nodded, “Thank you, Mr Cartwright.  We would be very grateful to take you up on your kind offer.”

 

“Very good.  Hop Sing, set the table for two more -” Ben’s smile widened “You can tell us some of the things you and my son got up to while he was at sea.”

 

Joe turned to look at Hoss, his face solemn and saw upon his brother’s face merely a reflection of his own.   Hoss raised his blue eyes to Joe’s face and raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

 

………….

 

Adam Cartwright dismounted and led Sport into the stable.  He had looked hurriedly over at the buggy and at the two horses wilting at the hitching rail and after guiding Sport into his stall, removing his harness, and leaving him eating from his feedbag,  he walked over to the two hired horses and led them to the water trough.  As they drank deeply he stroked the neck of one of them and wondered again as to the reason for O’Brien’s visit.  He looked thoughtfully at the blood that stained the leather seat of Mr Sabattini’s best buggy and sighed.   The portents he decided were not favourable.

 

Once the horses had sated their thirst he returned them to the hitching rail where he tethered them and then walked slowly to the  house.   He pushed open the door slowly, quietly and as he stepped into the room he could hear the low murmur of voices, the rattle of cutlery upon plates, the tinkle of glass.   He slowly unbelted his gun belt and set it down upon the bureau along with his hat and then stepped into full view of his family and visitors.

 

Chapter 6

 

For a second or two Daniel was not too sure whether to salute or extend his hand to be shaken, as it was he rose quickly to his feet with a genuinely sincere look of pleasure on his handsome face, took a deep breath and extended his hand, which Adam shook warmly with a smile that almost hid the anxiety in his dark eyes.

 

“Pleased to see you again, Captain - I mean -” he paused and grinned, reminding Adam so much of Joseph when he got himself into a quandary that Adam had to relax his guard and allow the pleasure at seeing them show in the twinkle of his eyes,

 

“Adam - just call me Adam.”  he turned to Jotham and nodded, “So, in scrapes again, Jotham?  Good to see you again.  I’m sorry you  had such a hostile welcome to the Ponderosa,  those men seemed determined to rob you of something, I hope they didn’t succeed.”

 

He pulled up a chair to the table and began to heap food upon his plate with his eyes going from one face to the next.  Hoss sighed, Joe looked cagey and slightly apprehensive, Ben was his genial self but Adam was not so easily fooled knowing that those black eyes hid many emotions, Jotham and Daniel both looked relaxed and happy to be there.

 

“They didn’t take anything -” Daniel O’Brien smiled, but his eyes glanced hurriedly over to the portmanteau that was on the bureau behind the settee.

 

“Just some of my hide,” Jotham said as a rider, and he looked at Adam thoughtfully, “You were the person in the rocks -?”

 

“Heard the shooting.  Was on my way home anyhow.” Adam looked at the steak on his plate as though he had never seen one before and then glanced up at Jotham, “They looked intent on killing you both.  I wasn’t sure whether or not I would have been able to get the guy with the gun levelled at your head before you were killed.  It was good thinking on your part to get as much distance between you both when you did.”

 

“Thank you,” Jotham sighed and sliced neatly through his steak, he glanced over to Ben, “That’s the second time your son has saved my life, Mr Cartwright.”

 

“Shucks, Adam’s a wonder in himself, ain’t ya, little brother.” and Hoss grinned and wrapped his arm around Adam’s shoulders to give him a big hug which made Joe laugh as the food balanced so precariously on Adam’s fork fell back onto the plate.

 

“You know, you remind me of someone,” Jotham frowned, and looked thoughtfully at Hoss, “Someone on board ship - what was his name, Daniel, a big guy, steersman mostly.”

 

“Jacob - Jacob Brown, wasn’t it?” O’Brien smiled over at Adam who merely nodded, although Joe and Hoss flashed a look at one another, one that Ben noticed and pondered upon.  “I wonder what happened to him.  He was a good man to have around in a critical situation.  We’ll need -” he paused, clamped his mouth shut and began to carve into his food with his eyes down.

 

“He’s dead anyway.” Hoss muttered, “Got himself killed about two years ago.”

 

“Oh, you met him then?” Jotham said blithely, and Hoss heaved a sigh and nodded,

 

“Yeah, briefly.”

 

A silence fell upon them.   Adam seemed happy enough to enjoy the meal, and Hop Sing buzzed backwards and forwards from kitchen to dining table to place down some other platter loaded with good things.  Jotham and Daniel finally pushed their plates away and declared themselves too full to move.  Ben, deep in thought and the realisation that perhaps he had not been told quite as much about his sons adventures together several years back, suggested they took some more comfortable seats by the hearthside.   When the last scraping of plates had subsided, the men rose from the table and as they sat down Ben poured out whiskey into his best glasses.

 

Jotham,  favouring his injured arm, had taken the far end of the settee with Daniel seated by his side close to the red leather chair which was vacant for Ben.  Hoss was standing with his arm against the chimney, while Joe was sitting on the edge of the low table in front of the fire.  Adam had taken his place in the faded blue chair, his hands clasped on his lap and his legs crossed.   Each man took a glass of the whiskey and Jothan sipped it appreciatively,

 

“This is good vintage, Mr Cartwright.”

 

“I thought so -” Ben smiled and took his seat, leaned back and looked at each man there with a rather anxious sense of foreboding settling upon him. “I presume -”

 

“I gather that -”

 

Ben and Adam paused having both spoken at the same time, they glanced at one another and smiled, and Adam leaned back into the chair, raised his glass to his lips and waited for his father to proceed,

 

“I presume this isn’t just a social visit?” Ben said quietly.

 

“Not exactly, sir, nor have we come for employment -” Daniel replied, flashing a grin over at Joe and Hoss who looked at one another and shared a smile along with the joke.

 

“So why have you come?” Adam asked, his deep voice overlaid by the sense that something unpleasant was about to be landed in his lap.

 

Daniel took a deep breath and looked at each of them there, much as Ben had just done earlier, only his brow was furrowed and he bit down on his lips as though it were difficult to find the right words.

 

“Would it make it easier for you if we left the room?” Ben asked in his growl of a voice, “It’s obviously something to do with Adam and -”

 

“Yes, it is to do with Adam.  There’s no need to leave the room, sir.” Daniel stood up and in a few steps was at the bureau, opening the portmanteau and taking from it a thick envelope with a red seal attached.  He swallowed a lump in his throat and walked over to Adam, “I’m sorry, Adam, but I’ve been ordered to give you this.”

 

“Do I have to take it?” Adam crooked an eyebrow, refraining from touching the envelope, as though it were a snake on a platter.

 

“By order of the President of the United States, I, Daniel O’Brien, have this day presented these orders that were to be given to you, read by you, destroyed by you.  Your response to those orders must be consigned to myself as soon as possible in order for everything to take place accordingly.”

 

He had straightened his shoulders as he delivered his statement, one that he had rehearsed diligently as soon as he had been given it to learn.   He took a deep breath and looked at Adam, and held out the envelope.

 

Hoss had an immense longing to yell out ‘Don’t touch it, Adam’ as though he also could see a snake on the platter, while Joe sat there, his eyes fixed on Adams face and hardly daring to breathe.

 

“Go ahead, son, best take it.” Ben said quietly and straightened his own shoulders, as though the shadow of the President of the United States had fallen upon him in that very room where he felt most safe.

 

Adam reached out, took the envelope and looked at it dispassionately.   Joe swallowed a lump in his throat, for some reason his thoughts flew to a pair of ear rings nestled in a red velvet box in his room, to the face of a dark eyed maiden who had loved him, and he looked at his brother and felt his eyes well up with tears for some reason he just could not explain.

 

“Thank you.” Adam said, was all he could say as he looked down at the envelope and saw written upon it “TO WHOM IT SHOULD CONCERN.”

 

He glanced up at them and stood up, the envelope balanced in his hands and for a moment O'Brien had the awful fear that he was going to throw the envelope in to the fire.  "If you'll excuse me, I think I had better read this in my room."

 

There was total silence now as he turned, they heard his footsteps on the stairs and looked at one another as though, in some odd way, someone, or something, had walked across all their graves.

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

As Adam quietly closed the door behind him the only thought that was running through his head was the timing of everything.  They say in music that timing is essential, and in life - well - in life timing was also essential.  It just so often was knocked out of kilter.   He walked to the window of his room with the envelope balanced in his hand and paused a while as he wondered why it was that at this time in his life O’Brien, this letter, the President of the United States (for goodness sake - how implausible could that be?  Who would have believed it possible?) had all connived to erupt into his life.

 

He turned his head to look at the tallboy in his room and frowned slightly as he thought of the red velvet box in which nestled a ring.  No, not a ring, THE ring.  He sighed, walked over to the drawer and pulled it open, took from within the box and opened it.  

 

How odd that in all the years he had searched for love, thought he had found it, been intoxicated by passion for one or another, only to realise that the one person who truly loved him, and whom he knew he now loved, had been there all the time.  Not a beautiful woman as far as looks were concerned, but beautiful where it mattered.  He took out the ring and held it at arms length (the envelope he had placed on the bed) and watched as it gleamed in the light. 

 

It reminded him of a verse in the bible that he had once read ‘But let it be the hidden quality of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God at great price.’  The ring sparkled and flashed as he turned it to the light and with another sigh he replaced it in the box and snapped shut the lid.

 

After all this time he had found a woman, a worthy complement to himself, intelligent, good humoured, gentle and kind.  A woman who would be strong,  fair, who would work hard alongside himself, and who loved his family, the Ponderosa, and himself.  He swallowed hard again.   A friend, a true companion - he shook his head slowly from side to side, and put the ring back in the drawer, closed it and walked to the bed to pick up the envelope.

 

When he had been a boy he had complained to his father once that the task that had been given him was too difficult, it wasn’t fair he had said, that he should be expected to do the task.    His father had listened to his grumbles and patiently agreed that the task was difficult indeed, but not beyond his capabilities.  

 

“You will find, son, that life doesn’t always hand out the favours, and if it does, there are always disappointments to go along with it.”

 

“But, Pa -”

 

“Look, Adam, if you think life is unfair, and this job is too difficult you’re not going to try at it, are you?  And if you don’t try at it, you’ll never know whether you could have done it or not.   The next time you’re asked to take on a difficult task you will be even less inclined to do it.   Test yourself out, son, you’ll be surprised where you’ll get the strength and sense to do what’s asked of you.”  and Ben had given him a rough hug and left him sulking in the wagon.

 

He wanted to say ‘It wasn’t fair’ right now.  Kick the wall.   Throw the envelope in the fire and ride to town and find Barbara, propose right there and then, and get married at the end of the month.   He sat down on the edge of the bed, placed his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.

 

Barbara Scott.   School teacher.   He remembered when he had first met her, the problems that had arisen with her Uncle, the miserable consequences that had befallen them all.   Then one day she had ridden back into town and taken up teaching at the school again.   She could even ride a horse without falling off now and the thought brought a gentle smile to his lips. 

 

He shook his head, straightened his back and tore open the envelope.   Well, here it was then, what he had to do now confronted his eyes in bold black writing.   He read it through twice, enough to have it committed to memory, no difficult task for someone who could absorb and remember reams of poetry at first reading.   He checked over the maps that had been enclosed, other personal data and requests.  It was all there and the immediacy of the assignment was emphasised repeatedly, particularly with respect to the danger those requested to bring the instructions to him had been placed under.

 

He shook his head in disbelief.   To leave his family, the Ponderosa again.  To leave Barbara just at the time when he had been contemplating marriage to her.  No, no, it was unfair, unfair.

 

There was a gentle tapping on the door and he hastily hid the papers from view as the door opened and his father looked into the room.

 

“Is it alright for me to come in?” Ben asked respectfully, a little awed that one of his sons would actually receive a missive from the President.  “Or do you need more time?”

 

“More time for what?” Adam stood up, “More time to decide what to do?”

 

“Perhaps, if that is what you need?”

 

They looked into one another’s faces, each seeing the other reflected in the darkness of their eyes.

 

“What does one do, Pa?   I had hopes, plans -” Adam broke off, his voice had cracked in mid sentence and he felt ashamed of his weakness, “It could all be just a wild goose chase, for nothing.”

 

“Don’t tell me anything that I shouldn’t know, son.”  Ben put a cautionary hand on his son’s arm, and his anxious loving eyes scanned his son’s face, “Are you thinking of Barbara?”

 

“Yes, and of you - and Joe, Hoss.” 

 

“Adam , have you actually been ordered to take on this assignment?  Even though you are no longer a commissioned officer, have you been specifically ordered b y the President to take on this task?”

 

Adam fought an internal battle, saw Barbara’s face retreating from him, saw his hopes fade.  He looked up into his father’s face,

 

“Yes, explicit orders.”

 

“Then you have to obey them, don’t you, son?”

 

“Yes, sir.”  Adam bowed his head, “I don’t want to.”

 

There was silence for a moment and Ben sighed, placed a hand on his son’s shoulder before leaving him and stepping over to the window.  Adam stepped beside him,

 

“When I left home last time it was my own choice, a personal decision, just like it was for Joe when he left.  It didn’t take me long to realise my mistake, that where I needed to be was here, on the Ponderosa with you all.   Letters from home were of little comfort, they merely reminded me of everything I had lost, and then Joe leaving -” he paused and looked sadly at his father, shook his head, “ Joe nearly died and …” he stopped, pursed his lips and scowled, “and we came home.   Now this -” he waved vaguely in the direction of where the papers were hidden under the blanket, “and who knows what will happen while I am away this time.”

 

“O’Brien told me that this ambush wasn’t the first attempt to get those documents, Adam.   There had been another Officer with them, who was killed shortly after they left to come here with your orders.   There was another attempt when they boarded ship -”  Ben turned and shook his head, “I can’t order you to stay here, Adam, not when your President has already sent orders.”

 

They stood side by side for some time, just as they had a long time ago, and oftentimes during the course of their lives together.  Father and son …

 

Chapter 8

 

 

He was surprised at how cold his hands were as he sat writing letters for a while after his father had left the room.  They had said all they could say to one another,  perhaps not what they wanted to say, not what their hearts longed to say,  but enough to know that each understood the other and that no other spoken word was necessary.

 

He sealed his letters in their various envelopes and placed them on the top of his desk.  Next he turned his attention to the packing of the belongings he felt necessary to take with him to his designation.  It was while he was doing this that there came a light tap on the door,

 

“Come in -” and he turned, expecting to see Joe and smiling when his brother stepped into the room.

 

“You’re going then?”  it was more of a statement than a question as Joe stared glumly at the valise and sighed.

 

“Of course.  There isn’t much else I could do, Joe.”

 

“I guess not.  Any idea where you’re headed?”

 

“Partly - I mean - the first step.”

 

“Adam, could Hoss and I come with you?   I mean, you’ll need some kind of back up, won’t you?   Those guys who shot at O’Brien and Morton, they could be out there, waiting for  you.    Couldn’t we come too?”  Joe’s eyes widened, his handsome mouth was downcast and he looked into his brother’s face, knowing already what the answer was to be.

 

“Look, Joe, if I could don’t you think I would?  We’ve gone through enough during our life to know how much we can rely upon each other.   Fact is -”

 

“You don’t want us to come?”

 

“How can I let you come?    You’re not under orders to leave home, are you?”

 

“Do you want to go, Adam?”

 

“If I could write to the President and say, thanks, but no thanks, I want to make my life here, with my family, don’t you think I would?” his brow crinkled and he turned to place a clean shirt in the valise.    Joe lingered a moment , then noticed the letters neatly stacked upon the desk top.

 

“What about Barbara?  Have you written and explained to her what’s happening?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I thought this time you and she -” he paused and sighed, “Just post poned, huh?”

 

“Hopefully.  That will depend upon her, of course.” and Adam’s brow furrowed as he thought over what he had written to her.

 

“Anything I can do, Adam?”

 

He raised his eyes to look into his youngest brothers face and his own features softened.  This wasn’t the mischievous boy who would put frogs in the outhouse,  or salt in the sugar bowl, not any longer.  This was not the face of a the young gad about lad who fell in love at the sight of a pretty face and broke more bones than one thought possible.  He saw a young man who  had suffered loss,  recovered, matured.  He saw a young man who loved passionately, believed whole heartedly in the principles in which he had been raised, who was loyal, proud, strong.  He smiled and wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulders,

 

“Stay safe, Joe.   Don’t go away and get lost again, will you?”  he smiled and with his other hand tapped Joe gently on the chest, “Take care of Pa, keep him safe.”

 

“Sure - I’ll do all that.” Joe nodded and without another word turned and left the room, closing the door sharply behind him.

 

Well, Adam sighed as he looked at the closed door for a brief moment, we’re not kids any longer.  I’m no longer 17 and he’s not 5 years old again.   Time to move on.

 

He  turned to  his valise and was not unduly surprised to hear the door re-open, and Hoss’  footstep behind him,

 

“Hey, Adam, I was thinking -”  his brother sat on the bed and everything bounced a little before settling back down again.

 

“What about?”

 

“Wal, that thar Morton, he ain’t in a fit state to be going no place for awhile.  How’s about if I come along with you instead.”

 

He sat there with his hands clasped together between his legs and that boyish eager expression on his face that he wore whenever he felt he had struck upon some brilliant strategy.  His blue eyes were fixed hopefully upon Adam’s face and there was a vague semblance of a smile upon his lips,

 

“Well, Hoss, I can’t allow that for several reasons.” Adam sat down beside his brother and stared at the far wall, “First of all, Morton is under orders and unfortunately that means so long as he has two legs and can walk, or ride, he has to do as he is ordered.   Secondly, you’re not under orders.  Thirdly, I want you to stay here, to keep things ticking over until I get back.  Will you do that?”

 

“But -”

 

“No buts, Hoss, and don’t make things more difficult than they already are.” Adam frowned, “There are going to be hard times ahead and it needs you, and Joe, to make sure the Ponderosa is kept safe.  I want to come home and find you ALL safe, Hoss.”  he smiled slowly and placed a hand on his brother’s arm, then slowly let it drop to his side, “I want you to take care of Pa, make sure he’s here when I come home.”

 

“But, Adam -”

 

He stopped, saw the resolute look on his brother’s face and sighed,

 

“Any idea where you’re going and for why?”

 

“I won’t know where exactly I’m going until I board ship.” Adam paused and wondered if that was already too much information, he glanced at Hoss, “Keep an eye on Barbara for me, will you?”

 

“Sure will, Adam.  She’s a mighty fine girl, you should have married her years ago.”

 

“You’re right, I should have done.” Adam’s voice softened and he shook his head, “Things don’t always work out the way we want them, do they, brother?”

 

“No, sir, they sure don’t.”

 

Hoss stood up and the bed groaned as though in relief of its burden.  He extended his hand which Adam seized hold of and shook warmly.   Hoss wanted to give his brother a hug, wanted to mightily but he knew that if he did his resolve would break and he didn’t want to - as Adam had said - make things more difficult.

 

“When are you leaving?”

 

“In an hour -”

 

The three words were said as calmly as he could get them pass his lips, but Adam’s heart was beating fast beneath his ribs, and he wished he could have wiped them out and tossed them away at the look of dismay on Hoss’ face.  Hoss rallied.  He nodded,

 

“Sure, I’ll go and get the horses saddled for you.”

 

“Thank you, Hoss.”  he nodded, in his heart he added the other two words ‘for everything.’

 

Chapter 9

 

Ben woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest and for some moments  thought he had been lost in some nightmare of a dream where three horsemen had galloped out of the yard, were swallowed up by the darkness, and disappeared from view.  The thud of their horses hoof beats had resounded in his brain during the waking seconds of his sleep.    He opened his eyes and stared blankly up at the ceiling as  he tried to recapture the essence of his dream and with a sudden catch in his throat sat bolt upright.   Of course, it had been no dream, it had been all and everything he had dreaded since Adam had returned home.  His son had been one of the horsemen and had left the Ponderosa.

 

He pulled aside the bedding and got to his feet, extinguished the low flame in the lamp that he had neglected to put out when he had fallen into bed.   Then he stood upright, gazed around the room and felt the emptiness well up within him.

 

…………..

 

Hoss pushed the food round and round on his plate and stared at it thoughtfully. There was a sense of something , a nebulous phrase went round and round in his head that he found too elusive to grab hold on, but it meant that what he was feeling was how he could recall feeling once before, maybe six years previously.  He glanced at the stairs as Joe came down them,  his feet dragging,  one step at a time. Thud. Thud. Thud.

 

“ ’Hoss,” he acknowledged his brother gruffly, sat down and pulled a plate towards him.

 

“Not really hungry,” Hoss pushed his plate away, “If’n it’s alright with you, Joe, I reckon I’ll go and see to the horses.  Got to git into town this morning.”

 

“Want company?” 

 

“Yeah, if’n you like.”

 

Joe sighed, poured coffee into his cup and glanced up as his father came down the stairs.  His face relaxed into a smile, and he watched as his father  took his seat and looked up at Hoss,

 

“Where are you off to, son?”

 

“Um,  huh, jest to see to the horses, I gotta go into town.”

 

“O, I see.” Ben looked at the plate with the congealing mess of food and then looked up at his middle son, “Not hungry, Hoss?”

 

“No, sir, “ Hoss frowned, screwed up his eyes, “I ain’t feeling like eating jest now.”

 

“Any particular reason you have to go into town?” Ben took the coffee pot from Joe and poured the hot fluid into his cup, his dark eyes looked across at Hoss who grimaced and placed his hand upon the pocket of his shirt where there appeared to be a slight bulge.

 

“I promised to go see Barbara,” he swallowed, cleared his throat noisily, “I’ll git the horses saddled, Joe.”

 

“Sure, Hoss, I won’t be long.” came his brother’s reply, although Joe’s eyes were upon his father, who was putting some food onto his plate.   “You alright, Pa?”

 

“Yes,” Ben nodded, and his dark eyes glanced almost furtively up at his son before returning to the task at hand, “I’m alright, and yourself?”

 

“Sure, Pa, I’m just fine, I guess.”

 

“Good.”

 

Joe regarded his father thoughtfully for a second and then drank some of the coffee before replacing the cup rather noisily upon the saucer,

 

“Seems strange, doesn’t it, Adam going again?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Just as we got used to his being at home again-” he forced his voice to be lighter than he felt but his father only nodded and speared food upon his fork which he put into his mouth.  “Guess we’ll get used to it though, huh?”

 

“We’ll have to,” Ben replied, and then looked at Joe with slightly narrowed eyes, “Adam had no choice but to go, Joe.   It wasn’t a personal decision of his, not this time.  He had to obey the orders he was given.”

 

“Yes.  That makes a difference, doesn’t it?”  Joe regarded his father carefully, understanding the other man’s viewpoint although with some difficulty.

 

“Yes, it does, to me anyway.” Ben bit his bottom lip, “That doesn’t mean to say that I find it hard to accept, just easier, a little -” his voice drifted into a sigh and he shook his head as though to signify his inability to understand the vagaries of life, then he ate a little more, “I’ve some paper work to do, Joe, the timber contract with MacPherson needs to be completed.  Adam was going to do that today so I had better get on with it.  Are you going with Hoss to see Barbara?”

 

“Yes, Pa.”

 

“Then give her my best wishes and tell her she’s always welcome here - anytime.” and Ben’s face softened into a smile, “She’s a lovely young woman, she’ll make Adam a fine wife when he comes home.”

 

Joe nodded and smiled.  After he had finished his coffee he excused himself from the table and walked to the bureau, picked up his gun belt and hat, left the house.  Ben heard the door close and put down his fork, bowed his head and clasped his hands together.   He had prayed already for his son’s safety, but now, as the aloneness of the room seemed to creep all around him, he felt the need to pray once more for courage, for himself.

 

……………..

 

To some people Barbara Scott would not appear to be beautiful to the eye.  She was a woman who, upon entering the room, would not turn everyone’s head to be gazed upon with admiration.    It was later when in conversation with her, or when regarding her for some moments at a distance, that one became more aware of how attractive a woman she was, and how alive her features were when she smiled, or expressed some feeling about something .  

 

She could remember the first time she had ever met Adam Cartwright, and would laugh at the memory of being tied to the stake in the middle of the playground while a horde - well, perhaps half a dozen - young children whooped and hollered as they danced about her.  It had been an ignominious  beginning but one that set their roles apart immediately, he the protector and she, the one needing protecting.

 

After the debacle with her Uncle, the terrible death of Charley who had survived the massacre of years previously only to die before he could denounce his murderers, she had left town with the Major and only returned upon his death.  Now she lived in the old Scott house, worked at the school as the teacher, one with greater gravitas than when she had first arrived, and waited for  Adam to make her his wife.

 

She knew that was his wish, just as it was her own.   The evenings they had spent together, sharing plans, discussing their future, had made it only too obvious.  She was no longer in the first flush of youth, and he was a mature man, older than many who married for the first time.   But she loved him,  no, more than that, she adored him.    Sometimes when she thought about him tears would spring to her eyes and her heart would swell so that she could barely breathe.

 

She was putting flowers into a vase when there came the knock on the door.   For a second she waited knowing that if it were Adam he would push the door open and stride inside, walk towards her …

 

Another knock and with a sigh she approached the door and opened it. 

 

“Hoss?   Joe?”  she stepped back, smiled, and wondered why they were there, so early in the morning too.  “Is there anything wrong?”

 

She looked from one to the other of them and just knew, immediately knew, that there was something wrong.  It was not just how they looked, the way they removed their hats and held them tightly against their chests, nor the way they looked at her, but something in their eyes, the down turn of their mouths.

 

“Miss Barbara -” Hoss began, faltered, rallied, and placed his hand upon her arm, “Ma’am,  I - that is - we -”

 

“Barbara, Adam had to leave town.”

 

Joe could barely believe that he had spat out the words so sharply.   He saw her face drain of colour, then flood back, the disbelief, the dismay, the way her hand faltered to her throat.  He put out a hand, and took her elbow gently in the cup of his fingers and led her to the chair, helped her to slowly sit down.

 

“What do you mean, Joe?  You said that as though it meant something different from normal.”

 

“Yeah, that’s because it is different.” Hoss muttered, groping in his pocket to pull out an envelope, “I mean, he ain’t jest gone off to San Francisco on business nor nothing  like that, he’s had to go away on special business.”

 

“Special business?” she echoed it like a child learning to recite a piece of poetry.  “What kind of special business?”

 

“Wal, kind of like orders from the President.”

 

She frowned, looked from one to the other, then shook her head,

 

“President?  What President?  The President of the Mining Corporation?  Timber Contractors?  I don’t understand you, Hoss.”

 

“It’s - er - it’s all in that thar letter he wrote ya, Miss Barbara.” he pointed to the envelope and then groped in his pocket to pull out the little velvet box which he placed on the  small table at her elbow.  “That’ll explain it far better than we can, ’cos we don’t really know that much ourselves to be exact.”

 

Barbara felt her hands got icy cold and her face go hot,  she felt dizzy, and shook her head, stared at the writing on the envelope and felt the tears well up inside her and overflow.  They trickled down her cheeks and splashed upon the envelope making dark smudges where they had landed.

 

“Pa said to tell you, you’re always welcome to visit at the Ponderosa.” Joe  said in a soft voice, “You know we mean that, don’t you, Barbara?  After all, you are nearly part of the family now.”

 

She raised her eyes, blinked, a tear dropped from the fringe of her eyelashes down upon her cheek. 

 

“Shucks, Miss Barbara, I sure wish I didn’t have to see you looking so sad.  He won’t be gone long.  Not like before when we didn’t know if he’ll ever get back.”  Hoss placed a hand upon her shoulder, “He’ll come back soon, you jest wait and see if he doesn’t.”

 

But Barbara wasn’t thinking of the time ahead, she was thinking of the here and now, and wishing that she was hearing him speak to her, his deep gentle tender voice close to her ear, and the way he would smile and his lips would brush against hers.

 

…………….

 

The three horsemen drew up their horses at the way station at  Goat Springs having made good time to reach it before the arrival of the stage for San Francisco.   Morton,  now feverish from weakness and pain, was slumped low in the saddle and was only too grateful to fall into the arms of his companions who manoeuvred him carefully from the saddle towards the cabin, the door of which had been flung open by Mrs Nesbitt, the wife of the station manager.

 

“Mrs Nesbitt, some strong coffee, if you please and a hearty breakfast.” Adam asked her as he helped Jotham towards the truckle bed in the corner of the room.

 

“It’s not a fever, is it?” Mrs Nesbitt asked, for she lived in dread of catching plague or pox from any of the passengers, convinced that either would see the death of her.

 

“Not at all,” Adam stood up and smiled at her, “He got shot in the arm and the ride has made him feverish.  He needs the wound to be cleaned out and fresh linen.”

 

“I suppose you’re expecting me to provide them as well…” she grumbled as she made her way to the kitchen, leaving Adam and O’Brien to smile at each other and then see to the comfort of their injured companion.

 

The wound was clean, there was no sign of suppuration, no pus collecting around it to signify blood poisoning.  Adam took the responsibility of cleaning and binding the wound for him, and then gave him a dose of something he always had on him for such occasions.  Some of Hop Sings herbal remedy that he had, over the years, proven to be better than most things.

 

“When’s the stage coach due?”   O’Brien asked Mrs Nesbitt who only shrugged and broke several eggs into a skillet.

 

“Could be an hour, may be two.” she replied, and skilfully removed egg shell from the eggs swimming in the hot oil.

 

Adam nodded,  sat down upon a seat and stretched out his legs.  Time for just a little nap, he closed his eyes, and as he did so he realised he had never felt so tired for a very long time.

 

Chapter 10

 

Since his childhood when Ben had taken him through Indian territory Adam had learned to sleep with his hearing  tuned in to whatever was happening around him.   His brothers would often tease him by saying how he could sleep through a stampede but wake up immediately at the sound of a door opening.   Perhaps that was true, but he knew that had his father not taught him such a  cautionary habit  there would have been many a time when lack of it could have led to his death.

 

“Mrs Nesbitt, where is your husband?” he asked as the sound of horses approaching echoed through his sleep, bringing him immediately awake and upon his feet.

 

“Why, in the barn of course.” she frowned.

 

“When’s the stage due?”

 

She glanced up at the clock and shrugged,

 

“Not for a while yet.  Are you ready for your meal?”

 

Adam looked at the food frying in the skillet and then at his companions.  He had thought himself in a deep sleep but had barely had his eyes closed for a few minutes.  He took his gun from its holster and walked to the window where he carefully drew back the ragged curtain.  Narrowing his eyes he picked out three horsemen approaching,  one of whom had his arm in a sling, and all of them vaguely familiar.   He beckoned to O’Brien who was immediately at his side, looked at the three horsemen and then at Adam.  O’Brien nodded,

 

“They’re the men who ambushed us yesterday.” he said quietly.

 

Mr Nesbitt was strolling away from the barn now, and looked back as the three horsemen came closer.   They saw him as he pushed his hat to the back of his head, and then turned to walk towards the cabin.

 

There was a rack with rifles upon it, and two of these Adam took down and gave to each man while at the same time beckoning to Mrs Nesbitt to leave the stove and her cooking.    Huffing and puffing in protest she put her eggs and bacon away from the heat and came over to them,

 

“What’s going on?” she demanded, “Jed will be wanting his breakfast same as you when he gits in and -”

 

Adam raised a hand for silence as he watched the three men approach Jed Nesbitt, speak to him and saw his shake of the head.    Adam glanced to the hitching rail where Sport and two other horses were nodding in the warmth of the new day.   The leader of the three men continued to speak to Nesbitt who shrugged, pointed now to the three horses, said something and turned to walk towards the cabin.

 

Jotham joined them at the window and watched as the men dismounted.   They stood a moment watching the cabin, as though deciding on what to do.  Nesbitt pushed opened the door and stepped inside.   He flung his hat down on the table,

 

“Them thar men were asking after you, Adam.”

 

“Just what were they asking, Jed?”

 

“If’n I’d seen you and whether them were your horses.  I said I hadn’t seen you but that for a fact that chestnut was your’n.   I don’t think they’re friends of yours -” he looked at his wife, then went to the rack and took down a rifle, noted two were missing and then nodded when he saw them in Jotham and O’Briens’ possession.

 

Adam watched as the leader of the men stepped forward, one hand on his gun belt and the other on his hip,

 

“Cartwright?  You there?  I know you’re in there.”

 

“What is it you want?”

 

“Just a talk - a friendly chat.”  the man smiled, he wasn’t an unattractive man, and his companions stood close by him, noticeably with their hands close to their guns.

 

“By all means, why not join us for some breakfast in here.”

 

“Oh no, can’t do that - I prefer the wide open spaces out here.”

 

“Just tell me what you want, who you are and who you represent”  Adam asked, his eyes on his gun cylinder, checking that it was fully loaded.

 

“No, no, you come out here and let us talk.  Man to man.  How about that?”

 

“I prefer if you come in and talk here.”

 

One of the men said something to hi s companion and for a moment silence hung heavy upon the air.   Adam watched while at the same time crossing to the other side of the door, his hand on the handle.  He motioned to O’Brien and Morton to stay where they were.

 

“Seems you’re forgetting I run a way station here,” Nesbitt complained, “I’ve got a stage coming in with passengers to feed and see to, how’m I gonna do thet if you and your friends out there are going to keep messing about like this.”

 

“It’s alright, Jed, just give us a few moments -”  Adam murmured as he watched the men disperse, one going to the left of the spokesman and the other to the right.  “Keep your wife out of sight and -”

 

Glass shattered as a bullet came through the window and flattened itself against the wall. 

 

“I ain’t got all day, Cartwright.  Now, bring out the papers I want, and we’ll be on our way.”  there was a smile on his face, smoke still curled from his pistol.

 

“No, I don’t think so.”  Adam replied slowly, noticing how one gunman was now ducked behind a water trough and the other behind some barrels.

 

“Have it your way.   I need those papers -”

 

“Then come and get them.”

 

More bullets and more broken glass.  Mrs Nesbitt screamed a little in the background, but was soon quiet when Adam and the other three men began to return fire.  

 

“Can’t you give them the danged papers they’re after,” Nesbitt complained, “If this goes on much more I won’t have much way station left to work from.”

 

“Sorry, Jed.  They won’t just want the papers, they know I’ve read them -” Adam took aim, fired, “so they’ll want me too, dead or alive.   Whichever!” he shrugged, fired again.   There was a yell and the man behind the water trough was seen to collapse onto the ground.

 

“You’ve one last chance, Cartwright.”

 

“You’re outnumbered, friend, why not just throw your guns in and give up.”

 

The answer was a volley of shots that peppered the far wall.   Jed Nesbitt gave a yell and dropped his rifle, collapsed to the floor  with his hands against his chest which immediately sent Mrs Nesbitt into a state of shock which silenced her completely.  She crawled on her hands and knees to be at his side and cradled his head in her lap.

 

“They’ve got us pinned down here,” O’Brien said having looked over his shoulder at the Nesbitts, “We need to get out of here.”

 

“Easier said than done, there’s only one doorway, and one exit.” Adam replied. “How’s your husband, Mrs Nesbitt?”

 

“He’s alive - bleeding badly.”  Mrs Nesbitt raised tearful eyes to wards Adam, and then to O’Brien.

 

Adam inched open the door,  and then looked at the other two men, gave them orders to ‘fire at will’ and flinging the door open ran out onto the porch, firing as he went.  It was a risk, perhaps an unnecessary one, and had time and manpower allowed it probably one he would have hesitated to take at any other time.   He felt the breeze of a bullet sing pass his head, but he reached the corner of the cabin, and ducked behind it.  

 

The firing eased off a little, perhaps they were re-loading or just rethinking out their strategy, wondering where he was and what he planned to do.    He hunkered down a little  and made his way to the boulders that edged the cabin.   As quietly as he could he scrambled between them, loose shale and rubble slipped from beneath his feet, and once he lost his footing and had to seize at a large boulder to remain upright.   Now gun fire was continuing but he could see the layout  more clearly from some height, and noticed that the man he had shot was now in a sitting position with his back to the trough, bleeding freely from a wound in his leg.  He was feeding bullets into the chamber of his rifle.

 

On the horizon Adam could just discern a dust cloud that appeared to be moving towards the way station, this, he assumed to be the stagecoach.   He took position behind a boulder, aimed, fired.   There was an exclamation of pain and the man he had wounded the previous day, threw up his arms and fell heavily to the ground.

 

“Throw your gun down,” he ordered, “Throw it down, man, there’s little point to all this, you can’t win.”

 

Several bullets were fired in his direction, but fired wide off the mark.  Then there was the sound of hoof beats,  and two men were riding from the way station leaving their dead companion sprawled in the dirt.

 

He scrambled down to level ground and hurried towards the dead man, knelt by his side and searched through his pockets.  There were only a few personal items, none of which gave him any clue as to who he was or  from where he had come.   He looked up and watched as the two horsemen appeared to disappear in the dust cloud of their own making and then, with a sigh, he rose to his feet and walked slowly to the cabin.

 

Mr Nesbitt was sitting in a rocking chair with a wad of cloth against his wound,  he looked shocked but otherwise better than Adam had expected of him.  O’Brien and Jotham  were standing, waiting for him to join them.

 

“They know who you are then,” Daniel said softly.

 

“They probably knew a while back,” Adam replied, and looked at Jotham, “Are you fit to travel?”

 

“Just say the word, Captain.” came the reply, but the man looked ill, and slumped down into a chair even as he spoke.

 

“Mrs Nesbitt, if you don’t mind - some coffee and food .”  Adam looked anxiously at Mr Nesbitt who just nodded his head and gave a wry grin, “Reckon you’ll survive, Jed?”

 

“Shucks, ain’t no bullet from some mangy bushwhacker gonna kill me off.” came the reply and Adam nodded, and looked at O’Brien,

 

“We leave as soon as the stage is ready.”  he sighed and walked to Jotham, leaned down to look at the man’s pallid features and the blood staining the bandages around his arm, he looked up at O’Brien, and shook his head.   There would only be two passengers leaving on the stage .

 

  …………….

 

Barbara had chosen not to open the letter for a while, not that she wasn’t eager to read what he had written to her, but because she was not sure how she would handle the rest of her day knowing anything more adverse than what she already knew.   Children had to be taught, lessons marked and prepared for the next day.  The sun continued its rotation in the sky, and life, as they say, goes on.

 

Now that the afternoon had arrived and the school day was over she closed the door to her home and stood for a while with her back leaning upon it as though the solidity of the wood would give her some courage to face what was the inevitable.

 

She sat down and opened the envelope.   Her hands were shaking, and for a moment she was unable to open the letter, smooth it out and read it.   When she was able to do so she was surprised at how short the letter was,

 

“My dearest Barbara, my darling girl,

 

At times like this it seems as though there is so much to say and most of it meaningless and purposeless.   I have to leave here for  a while, it is a request that I can not refuse, an order I can not disobey.  Were I to do so and you were to learn of it you would be ashamed of me and I would lose my self respect, and yours also.

 

When I return, and should you still feel the way that you do at present about myself, and about the things we have discussed then I would like to pursue those matters with you.  It is possible, however, that someone else may come into your life and gain your love.  If this is the case, then, my dear, follow your heart.   Do what your feelings tell you.   For too long you  have allowed your head to guide you, but now you must think with your heart.

 

Know that I love you, until my dying day I shall always love you.  I send you a small token of that love, and perhaps, one day, when I return, I can place it upon your finger and hear you say those words precious to all those in love.

 

God bless you, may He keep you safe.   You know my father and brothers will always be prepared to help you in any way that they can.  I can vouch for their loyalty and their love,

 

Your ever loving …   Adam”

 

A tear fell upon the page, like a raindrop it fell and splattered its pattern upon the written words.   She didn’t open the box.  She knew what it contained.  She didn’t have to open it to know its contents nor its significance.  She was only aware of the silence, the pounding of her heart that had a corresponding thudding in her head. 

 

It was so quiet.

 

Chapter 11

 

The room in which the men were seated was warm but the windows remained unopened.   The doors were closed and a marine stood at attention by its side.  There were two men seated, with a large desk between them.   Papers were piled neatly upon the highly polished desk and an envelope was held carefully in the hands of Commodore Alfred Pelman.

 

“These are your final orders, Captain Cartwright.   You will open the envelope only when you get to the destination set out in the first envelope.  The ship of which you have command will be familiar to you as you have sailed in her before - the Ainola.   She has been completely refitted and has a full complement of men serving under you.  

She is being listed as a commercial vessel for reasons that will be revealed to you in these orders but which I am sure you can make a shrewd guess at for yourself anyway.    Your first Officer will be Lieutenant O’Brien whom I believe you have had under your command before now.”

 

Pelman passed the envelope to Adam who took it without comment.  He disliked Pelman and the smooth way in which he sat and gave orders, as though men hardly ranked as human beings, merely as pawns on a chess board to be moved at his will.  He nodded when he realised that Pelman was waiting for some response from him, and carefully adjusted the crease in his pants as though he were there more as a bystander than as a prime participant.

 

“It’s good to see you back in uniform, Captain, and back in the service.  I know it must have been difficult for you , having settled back into civilian life, but you should know that when we needed someone to understand this task there was not anyone we could think of who had the special assets that you possess.”

 

Adam was not sure whether that was a compliment or not, he sighed and shifted his position in the chair, stretched out one leg that was threatening to  develop pins and needles, and glanced down at the envelope.  This time his name was written very clearly upon it.   He raised his dark eyes to look at Pelman’s rather fleshy face,

 

“You do know that this is no secret to someone,” he said crisply, “several men have already been killed and one of my best men has been injured just for delivering the last letter.   Someone knows what this assignment is all about, Commodore, someone knows even more than I do, and seems determined to prevent it being carried out.”

 

“I have had reports about this already.” Pelman tapped the pile of papers at his elbow, reflected in the mirror high sheen of the desk, “I don‘t know who it is who has the information or who wants to prevent the assignment being fulfilled, although I can hazard a guess,” his brow creased, “Some Russians are not happy at what has happened, they feel strongly that their Government were robbed.   They want their land back.”  he shrugged, “Of course, it isn’t their land now, they were paid a good price and accepted it.  The paperwork was scrutinised by lawyers and politicians and passed as acceptable to both Governments.  It is possible that they are behind the developments that worry you so much, Captain.”

 

“No other reasons?” Adam asked with a slight frown on his brow, “No other people could be involved that you know or suspect to be involved?”

 

“None -” Pelman shrugged, and stood up, “I see you’re not wearing your medal, Captain?” and he smiled without mirth, his lip curled a little as though he felt a man who couldn’t be bothered to display his medals was one committing  a breach of dress code and therefore deemed sloppy and irresponsible.

 

Adam said nothing but had risen to his feet, given his superior officer a smart salute and turned to leave, he paused and looked back at Pelman as though to say something,  thought better of it, and left the room.  He was followed out by O’Brien.  The marine saluted and closed the door immediately behind them.  Both men walked straight backed and immaculately dressed from the building and made their way to the carriage that was waiting for them.

 

Pelman looked down at them as the carriage pulled away from the wide entrance to the building,  he shrugged and shook his head,

 

“Grant insisted Cartwright was the man for the job, but somehow I have my doubts.  He’s too much of a maverick.”  he glanced at his secretary who was standing behind him, “You do know what I mean by that, don’t you?”

 

“Yes , sir,”  the man replied and picked up the files, “Is that all now, sir?”

 

Pelman nodded and watched as the carriage disappeared behind some trees and was next seen mixing into the traffic.  He clasped is hands behind his back and sighed, then walked from the window, and followed his secretary out of the room. 

 

The Ainola seemed to shine in the springtime sun.  The graceful lines of her hull and the simple high arched stem fitted with her figurehead gave her an appearance of dignity.   Adam hadn’t seen the Ainola for a number of years now and as he looked at her he recalled to mind some of the adventures he had shared with the men aboard her.  Captain Greaves, Jenkins the first Mate, John the cabin boy.     He wondered if she were still capable of maintaining speeds from 16-18 nautical mph and that of  20 knots in prime weather conditions.

 

She shone in her spanking new coat of paint, the gold and silver paint on her figurehead gleamed with the promise of excitement at this new enterprise.   She looked longer than her 210 ft but that was no doubt due to the fact that the ship standing along side her, the SS Dakota was only a 196 footer.

 

“I heard that you had sailed on her before, Captain,” O’Brien said, standing beside Adam with his hands clasped behind his back, “Howard Dix told me, he was the cook serving when Captain Greaves was in command.”

 

Adam nodded.   How quickly one had to forget the intimacy of first name terms once the uniform was donned.   He sighed, and with a slight frown preceded O’Brien upon the gangplank.    Immediately he heard the whistle from above on deck.   The sailors welcoming of the Officers boarding ship. 

 

The ships crew were standing at attention awaiting the Officers and the salute was prompt and simultaneously delivered by all present.   It was the Second Mate, Philip Thomas, who stepped forward to welcome the Captain aboard ship, introducing himself as he did so.

 

“Have we a full complement of men, Mr Thomas?” Adam asked

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“And supplies?  Is everything on board that we require?”

 

“Indeed, yes, sir.”

 

Adam inclined his head as a sign of acknowledgement and then introduced the First Officer to Philip Thomas.   He turned and looked at the men standing in ranks on the deck and ran his eye over them,

 

“Very well now, men, we shall no doubt get to know one another well enough as the days go by.   Our journey will not be an easy one, but so long as we pull together as a tight unit and each one of us keep to our places and do as expected of us, then it won’t be long before we are pulling back into harbour, safe and sound.  Now - get ready to leave harbour.  We have orders to fulfill, and permission to leave within the hour.   Get to it and God speed.”

 

The men cheered, a sailors reception of their Captain and acceptance of their orders.   Then each turned and scattered about the deck to get on with the task they knew best in order to get the ship from harbour.

 

As the ship heaved her way from the enclosure of the harbour walls Adam took his seat in his cabin and placed the envelope in his desk drawer which he locked.   He looked up at O’Brien and smiled,

 

“Give the helmsman our co-oordinates will you, Daniel, 58°0'N 178°0'W‍ / ‍58, -178” he looked at the other man’s face and sighed, “the Bering Sea.”

 

“Yes, sir.”  Daniel’s face slipped into rather sombre planes, the Bering Sea was far from the most ideal place to be and was indicative of the area they were headed for, but he said nothing, knowing that his Captain would not tell him what he felt he had, as yet, no right to know.

 

Within minutes of O’Brien leaving the cabin there was a polite knock on the door and a tall thin man entered, followed by several others.  They introduced themselves as the doctor,  the Captain’s steward, and the cook.  

 

When they had left Adam rose to his feet and went to the window of his cabin.  The sea was calm, there was barely any motion beneath his feet, but already he was feeling the heavy weight of knowing that he was sailing further and further away from those he loved, and from the land that he loved.   He stood there some minutes with his back straight, his hands clasped behind his back, the personna of the man in black with the gun belt slung low upon his hips gradually slipping away to be replaced by the man at sea, and wearing the  dark blue jacket with the gold epaulets denoting his rank.

 

Chapter 12

 

The further they sailed from the American coast line and out into the Pacific the colder and darker it became.  The transition into the northern hemisphere became more and more obvious with the shortening of the days and the fact that spring had not yet arrived became more apparent with the drop in temperature.

 

It would soon be time for the last envelope to be opened and the final orders to be made clear.  In the meantime Adam paced around the decks of his ship, leaving the f’castle aft and getting to know his men.  Some faces he recognised as having served with him either on the Redoubt or the Ainola, and these came with a smile and a salute to have their names recalled to  mind as having been old friends.   Old or new, all these men he familiarised himself with by face and name.   After several days he remained either in his cabin or on the f’castle,   being too familiar with the crew did not always bode well with them.  A captain could lose a crew’s respect by trying too hard to be ’one of the boys’.

 

“Captain?”   O’Brien peered around the door and smiled, “You’re requested on deck, sir.  There’s something here for you to see.”

 

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.  He had been spending time familiarising himself with the geography of the land that had been so newly purchased from the Russians.   Now he rose, grabbed at his jacket and pulled it on as he closed the cabin door behind him.

 

Ev en as he stepped through the door of the cabin he had to pause a second just to stand and stare at the sight that undulated about them.   Waves of undulating colours, greens, oranges, yellows,  purples and reds, wove around and above them filling the sky with colour and patterns that no artist could capture so cunningly on any canvas.

 

He stepped onto the deck and walked to the side to lean against something solid as he stared in silent wonder at this most mysterious and beautiful phenomena of the  northern hemisphere.   A slight hum was the only sound, as though the colours were vibrating some energy and creating music of their own.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”   O’Brien sighed as he leaned against the bulwarks and watched the aurora borealis weave its magic about them.

 

“Quite magical.” Adam smiled and turned to face the younger man, “You never told me you had married, Daniel?”

 

“Oh?  No - sir,”  Daniel shrugged slightly, as though the subject embarrassed him a little, “There seemed no need to mention it, sir.”

 

“Not so long ago either?”

 

“A year in fact, sir.”  he turned his head to look up at the sky and not at the Captain, the brown eyes of his Commanding Officer just seemed to see too much at times.  He didn’t want Adam Cartwright thinking that any feelings for wife and family would detract from his duty in any way.

 

“You couldn’t have been too happy at having to leave her, for this mission.”

 

“She’s used to it, sir, her family are military.   She knows - knew - what it meant to be married to me.”

 

“And you miss her?”  Adam’s voice was low, and his eyes kindly.  The glowing colours of the sky did not mask the sincerity of his regard for the younger man, and he smiled slowly “It’s never easy to leave behind the ones that we love, is it?”

 

“No, sir.   It isn’t.”

 

Adam said no more but looked up at the sky, the colours were fading now, weaving their way across the horizon towards oblivion.  The men who had been on deck now returned to their tasks.  Adam excused himself and returned to his cabin. 

 

For a moment he fingered the maps he had been observing and the notes that he had taken from a reference book about what he would find upon reaching the Bering  Sea, which comprised of a deep water basin rising through a narrow slope above the continental shelves within the Pacific Ocean.

 

They had yet to reach the Gulf of Alaska, and the Alaskan peninsula.  Once they were in those waters he expected to come across Russian ships for Russia’s Siberean and Kamchatka Peninsula were on the western borders and they were still sensitive about the transition of the Alaskan Peninsula coming into American provence.   He traced the coastal outline slowly with his forefinger and brought the lantern closer to see more clearly the distance they had yet to travel.

 

There was a knock on the door and the steward opened it in response to his answer.  He placed a tray with a hot drink, sugar and biscuits upon the desk and surveyed Adam thoughtfully.

 

“The helmsman wanted you to know we were steady on coarse, sir. Two points off starboard.”

 

“Thank you.”  Adam did not look up, he had formed no particular relationship with the man, unlike some Captains who used their stewards as spies to find out what was going on among the men and thereby made their positions untenable throughout their trips as a result.

 

The door closed again and now Adam sat down, opened a drawer in his desk and took out pen and paper.  Dipping his pen into the inkwell he began to write yet another letter to his father, he would mark the envelope with the number 3 so that Ben could  keep the letters in chronological order.   

 

He leaned back into his chair and steepled his fingers, what could he say to them now?   That the sea had been calm, the wind a steady light breeze adequate for  a pleasant journey?   That they had just seen the most wonderful phenomena, the aurora borealis that had been so breathtakingly beautiful?  What would that mean to them anyway, how could he find the words to describe it so that they could see it in their own minds eye?

 

He sighed and drank the hot cocoa, walked over to the window and stared out to the sea that rippled beneath a benevolent moon.    Back home there would be the ponderosa pine covered mountains, the last of the snow would have gone by now.  He hoped that Sport and the other horses had got back safely and wondered how Jotham had fared.  He wondered if Barbara were missing him, thinking of him.  He wondered if he would ever see her again …

 

………………………

 

Joe Cartwright brought down the curry brush along the sleek coat of his horse and whistled under his breath as he did so.   Cochise turned his head to observe his master thoughtfully,  and twitched his tail.

 

“Haven’t missed any, have you?  I know what you young men are like for avoiding hard work.” a jovial voice sounded close by and then there came a familiar laugh and footsteps walking into the stable, “How are you, Joe?”

 

Joe straightened up, wiped his brow with the back of his hand and grinned,

 

“Candy Canady!” he exclaimed, “When did you get into town?”

 

“Early this morning. I collected the mail for your Pa.  Is he inside?” Candy’s blue eyes twinkled and his cheeks creased into a pleasant smile, as he and Joe shook hands heartily, warmly.

 

“Sure, he is,” Joe slapped his friend on the arm, “It sure is good to see you again,” he tossed the curry brush into a bucket and led Candy towards the house,  “Adam’s left home again.” he added on a more sombre note, “Thought I had better mention it first.”

 

“I’m glad you did, thanks.  I’ll miss him not being around the place.” Candy paused a little, checked his pace and then resumed the walk to the house, “I always felt he was a good friend to me.”

 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Joe nodded,  recalling to mind the almost instant rapport the two men had between them, something that Joe had slightly envied having had such negative misgivings when he had first encountered the other man.

 

“You’ve no intentions of wandering off again, have you, Joe?”  again the wide generous smile but the eyes were more serious now, and Joe laughed, shook his head and sighed.

 

He pushed the door open and entered the big room,

 

“Pa - I’ve got a visitor here to see you.” he cried aloud as he approached the study area, and Ben looked  up, saw Candy and smiled.  Perhaps Joe was imagining it but the delight that had leapt into his father’s eyes initially seemed to have dimmed upon the realisation that their visitor was Candy.  Although the welcome and greeting was warm and sincere Joe knew that had it been Adam who had walked through the doorway and into the room Ben  would be turning the equivalent of verbal somersaults.

 

Chapter 13

 

The crew members were all assembled with faces turned towards their Captain who stood looking down at them from the bridge.  O’Brien and Thomas flanked him on either side, patiently waiting for Adam speak.

 

“Men, we will soon be entering what was once Russian waters.  No doubt we will be encountering Russian ships who may, or may not, be aggressive.   Now I have no need to remind you that should we retaliate in any manner whatsoever  it could create an incident that would have repercussions on a far larger scale later on.  We cannot afford to antagonise them.  

 

There is to be no visible armoury, no sight nor sound of our gun power.   If we do have to entertain any Russians, or  have contact with any other nations ships, we must maintain a subterfuge.   Most of you have heard of the Alaska Commercial Company who have obtained exclusive rights for taking seal furs from the Pribiloff Islands.     We are now acting on behalf of this company, assisting them in opening the way to settlers and various commercial enterprises in Alaskan Territory. 

 

In effect, we are an exploratory expedition under the auspices of that Company.  Accordingly we need to maintain friendly relations with any Russians who may come in contact with us.

 

Now, the Russians are pretty sensitive about the handing over of Alaska to the United States for what they consider quite a small payment.  They may be a little bit - tetchy - about things.   We have been ordered to refrain from any conflict with them.”

 

“What if they get uppity then, Cap’n?”  one of the men shouted, “Ain’t we got the right to defend ourselves.”

 

“Under no provocation, Jensen, we are merely an exploratory expedition,  remember.”

 

“What exactly are we looking for then, Captain?”   another of the men demanded, scowling under his cap as he did so.

 

“That’s what we’re here for, numbskull,” another man laughed, “We’re explorers, ain’t we?”

 

This brought a rumble of laughter among the men and Adam  knew that few of them were satisfied with what he had told them.  It left things hanging in the air.  They were sailors, and the Marines under command of the Sergeant of Arms  looked particularly disgruntled.    He allowed for some seconds of muttering and mumbling before he raised a hand for silence

 

“Now, men, we are sailors under orders.  Don’t forget that now.  Sometimes battles are fought and won without arms.    We take orders and we obey them, that’s what we are here for now.  We have our orders and we shall obey them.”  he looked at them and each man there felt as though those dark eyes were piercing right into their hearts.  

 

“What if they just decide to open fire upon us, Captain?   Do we just let ’em sink the Ainola?”  Pedersen asked respectfully, so much so that he had his cap clutched to his chest in deference of his Commanding Officer.

 

“No.” came the short answer and Adam raised his eyebrows, “No,  the Ainola won’t go down without our defending her.”

 

He dismissed them after that, wondering if he had said enough, done enough.  He looked at Thomas and O’Brien and signalled them to follow him to his cabin.   As he passed his steward he asked the man to bring them hot coffee immediately and then entered the cabin, closed the door  and faced them.

 

“Is it true then, Captain, that we are representing the Alaska Commercial Company?”  Thomas asked,

 

“To all intents and purposes,” Adam nodded, “but I’ll know more when I open the final orders.” he gave a shrug of the shoulders, and when the steward entered the cabin with the coffee no one spoke until the man had gone.

 

It was Adam who stepped to the door and after a second opened it slightly, checked that there was no one in the corridor and closed it again.  He paused, then looked at the two men before walking to the tray and pouring out the hot drink,

 

“Coffee, gentlemen -” he beckoned to the tray and then returned to his desk, sat down and put his cup upon the desk’s surface, unlocked a drawer and pulled it open.  He next withdrew the brown envelope that Pelman had handed him.  “Now, then, our orders.”

 

They looked at one another and then at him.   It was not often that such confidential orders were opened before others, but Adam showed them the front of the envelope which demanded that such would be the case here.

 

He smoothed out the paper and with a slight frown read what was written there, before turning his attention to the map.  A smaller envelope bearing his name only and marked ’Private’ he slipped into his pocket.

 

He passed the letter to the other two men in the room and watched their reactions to the reading of it.  There was little in much of what it contained that the two men did not already know, the history of Russian occupation of Alaska, the sea otter fur trade that was so prosperous, the destruction of much of the local indigenous peoples in pursuit of the wealth and how Seward negotiated the purchase of the territory.    The information they needed regarding their own assignment came later :

 

“There is a small settlement on the Island of Savoonga  63°41'48″N 170°27'39″W

  A woman of Russian descent lives there with her husband who is of the  Yu’pik people.   This woman is called Irena Pestchouroff.    On October 18^th  1867 Captain Alexis Pestchouroff turned over control of Alaska to General Lovell Rousseau.   Certain papers he took with him were handed to his relative, Irena Pestchouroff.  The woman, along with the papers, brought to America.  It is known that dissident Russians who have American supporters also want and need these papers.  

 

There must be no aggression between your ships company that may draw attention to our intentions.  The United States Government will not be held accountable for any aggressive manoeuvres taken by the Ainola and her crew.   If any aggression does take place the United States Government will deny any knowledge of your ship and of yourselves.

 

You will be acting on behalf of the Alaska Commercial Company, previously known as the Hutchinson, Kohl Company of San Francisco.  They have fur trading rights and you are employed by them .  But it has to be understood that peaceful conditions between Russia and America must be maintained.   Factions within our own Government and the Russian Government will use any aggression on your part  to create possible hostilities.  General Jefferson C Davies, now Governor of the territory, may give you assistance as representing the ACC, but is unaware and ignorant of your assignment.”

 

O’Brien glanced up at Adam and growled

 

“Can’t look to him for support then, can we?”

 

“At least we know what the assignment is now,” Adam sighed, and swallowed the remainder of his coffee before taking the paper and set it alight.  They watched it as it flared into flame, and crumbled into black ash.

 

“Trust a woman to  be at the root of the problem.” Philip Thomas grumbled, “Those papers must be important for us to be sent here though … “

 

Adam merely shrugged.  He watched as the burning papers crumbled into the final flicker of flame, was extinguished, and died out.   

 

“It’s going to be cold.” he sighed, “Spring has not touched this territory yet.”  he looked at O’Brien and smiled slowly, “Rather different from our last venture, isn’t it?”

 

The younger man nodded, unable to muster up a smile.  He hated the cold.

 

Chapter 14

 

Adam glanced up from the papers he had been reading as the door to his cabin was opened.   Daniel O’Brien and Philip Thomas stepped into the room  and stood attentively waiting for their Captain’s orders.   Adam put the papers down and looked thoughtfully at them both,

 

“Daniel, it says here -” he tapped at the top most paper, “that you speak excellent French?”

 

“My grandfather was French” Daniel said, “My mother spoke it as a matter of course, but I only speak school boy French.”

 

Adam nodded and put the paper to one side to pick up another one and look at Philip,

 

“You went to college and studied geology - what on earth prompted you to leave that and join the navy?”

 

“I thought it was one of the best ways to learn more about the earth, people, cultures.” Philip replied, “And I wanted to have more fun.”

 

“Fun?” Adam raised his eyebrows and had to look back down at the desk quickly when he realised how much he sounded like his own father.  How often had Joe nearly broken his neck attempting to do something and given that same reason and Ben would say “Fun?” in that disparaging way of his … he sighed and nodded, clamped his mouth shut and looked at both his officers, “Well, at least now I can see why you were both assigned to this ship for this venture. “ he paused and glanced from one to the other of them before recommencing to speak, “From your papers here -” he tapped the items on the desk “neither of you have ever been in this part of the world before, so we are all going to go ahead without really knowing much about anything at all of the territory.   As a - er - kind of geologist, Philip, I should imagine you’re going to add a lot to your knowledge.  When we reach the Island we are going to have to leave the ship in safe hands, which of the Officers have you felt you could safely trust with that assignment.  Not only with the duties involved but who has the men’s respect as well.  We don’t want to return with an out right mutiny on our hands.”

 

Philip and Daniel looked at one another and then at Adam.  What he was asking was a natural request for a Captain as this kind of information would be more accessible to those who mingled more with the men.   Information on paper such as name, marriageable status, qualification were mere words.  When it came to delegating such a responsibility as the ship and ships crews safety that was another matter altogether.

 

“Masters is a good Officer.”  Philip said, “He should have been appointed to a higher rank by now at his age but -”

 

“- but he isn’t,” Daniel chipped in, “and that is because he doesn’t gain the mens respect.”

 

“His navigational skills are very good,” Philip said.

 

“Oh good, if we ever get lost we’ll know who to call for to find us,” Adam said cynically. 

 

“Jack Lawson would be the man I would recommend, sir, he has a talent for encouraging the men to work without being too familiar with them.   I think he would be a safe pair of hands to whom you - we - could leave the ship.”

 

“Anyone else?”

 

“Richard Friend,” Philip ventured rather timidly, “his family have been naval officers for generations.”

 

“That doesn’t necessarily qualify him for this responsibility,” Adam smiled, sifting through the papers until he had found the information about Richard Friend, Jack Lawson and  Timothy Masters.  

 

“He’s a hard worker and can use his initiative when in a tight spot.  I was on the SS Vanguard with him for a year, Captain, and he was very well thought of by the Officers and crew.” Philip sighed, and waited as papers rustled and Adam’s dark brows were knitted across his brow,

 

“How do these three men get on together?”

 

“Well enough.  Masters tends to be the quieter of the three.   Wouldn’t you say so , Philip?”

 

Philip agreed and watched as Adam separated the three slips of paper from the others, all the documentation he possessed about the men under his command.

 

“I think we’ll have the three of them at dinner with us this evening,” Adam suggested, “and discuss this further later on,”  he paused as the cabin appeared to lurch fiercely to the left and then plunged to the right, “What on earth -”

 

There was a hasty knock on the cabin door and Midshipman Thackeray peered into the cabin, his freckled face split into a wide grin,

 

“’Scuse me, Captain, but Mr Atkinson said would you care to come up on deck.” he cried with a cheeky salute then turned and hurried away, they could hear the sound of his shoes scuffing upon the floor.

 

All three Officers got to their feet and hurried to the deck as the ship continued to go into what Adam thought of as bucking horse syndrome.     Hurrying to the bridge they were able to see the cause as racing ahead of them were the large black and white shape of many whales.

 

Adam leaned against the ships rail as though he were a mere Midshipman on his first trip to sea.   Whale after whale lifted their flukes out of the water as they began their dive into the black waters.  Several were surfacing as others dived,   blowing  high plumes of water from their spout holes every few seconds until they dived once again.

What power and what majesty the creatures displayed as they sent the water rolling in waves to crash into the side of the fragile vessel trailing behind them.  

 

“What kind are they?” Adam asked no one in particular

 

“Humpback,” Philip answered with his eyes so wide open in enthrallment that it was a wonder they didn’t pop right out of his head, “They have longer flippers than other species of whale and smaller dorsal fins.”

 

“Seen about thirty of them already, Captain.” the helmsman declared, his big hands clasped to the wheel keeping it steady as the ship rocked when wave after wave threshed against it.

 

They stood and watched for some minutes as spray hit against them.  How wonderful a sight, Adam thought, how Hoss would have loved to have seen this, he’d have been so excited that he’d have jumped right into the waters to swim right along with them.  He sighed, gave his head a slight shake as though to dispel the memories, and turned to go back to his cabin.

 

Masters and Friend were standing close together  as he passed, they stood to attention and gave him a snappy salute, which reminded him to invite them to dinner in his cabin that evening,

 

“- and when you see  Lawson kindly extend the invitation to him also.”

 

“Aye, Captain.  Thank you.”  Richard Friend replied, and he glanced at the man beside him with the air of one who could see promotion in the air.

 

Back in his cabin Adam shivered.  How cold it was, he had not needed anyone to point out the ice floes in the black waters.   He could only feel relieved that spring was on the way even to this frozen continent, and that they had not received their assignment when winter had been due.

 

……….

 

Candy Canaday cradled the mug of coffee in his hands and surveyed the men who were huddled together in small groups in the camp.   It had been a difficult night, the cattle had been restless as evening had closed and towards early morning something had spooked them and sent them careening off into a full blown stampede.

 

By his estimation they had lost twenty head of cattle.  Some had fallen from the bluffs, unable to stop themselves as the mass of bodies piled up behind them.  Some had been crushed as others toppled them down and continued to run over them.   It had not been a very successful night and now they were dog tired, hungry, with more bruises on their bodies than they could have thought possible.  

 

He turned as he heard Hoss’ voice and waited for his friend to join his side,

 

“Not so good, huh, Hoss?”

 

“No, not good at all.  They ran a lot of fat off and we lost too many head.”  Hoss scowled and slapped against his chaps with the reins of his horse, dust filtered upwards and he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, looked around the camp and shook his head, “How’re the men?”

 

“Tired.”

 

“Anybody hurt?”

 

“Rigby broke his leg.   Several minor injuries, everyone’s battered and bruised.”

 

“How’s yourself?”

 

“I’m alright.” he glanced at Hoss who merely nodded his answer to the unspoken question,  “How’s Joe?”

 

“I don’t know.”  Candy frowned, and glanced quickly at the assembled men and then at Hoss, “I thought he was with you.”

 

“He was at first but we got separated.   Doggone it, that Joe …” Hoss bit his bottom lip and pulled off his hat, leaving a red mark where the band had practically glued itself to his forehead as sweat and dust had gathered beneath the hat’s rim.

 

He turned and swung himself back into Chubb’s saddle, turned the animals head and galloped back from where he had come.  Behind him Candy kept close, his own animal, near exhaustion and sweating profusely, struggling to keep up with the more powerful black horse ahead of them. 

 

Chapter 15

 

The Captain’s table was laden with a good spread, the silver ware shone, glass sparkled, and the food looked, smelt and tasted good.   If Masters, Friend and Lawson suspected that they were under scrutiny they gave no indication of it but gradually relaxed more as the evening wore on, the wine flowed and the conversation turned to various different subjects.

 

Adam learned that the only one of the three ever to have ridden a horse and not fallen off was Lawson.   Not one of them had travelled beyond the harbour at San Francisco, nor had any idea of what the west was like, they had been at sea between 10 - 12 years and travelled to China, South America and various European countries but had no idea of what was going on  in their own country.

 

They listened spell bound as Adam described a cattle stampede, his rich voice dipping a little lower as memories of these were touched with mental images of father and brothers.   He watched them, listened to them as they described various episodes of their own lives.  Lawson enjoyed reading and music, Richard Friend played the violin and spoke three languages but Russian was not one of them., Masters,  a quiet man, liked philosophy, reading, and wrote daily in his journal.  Of the three he was the one who held back from disclosing  too much of himself.

 

“Is there any one on board ship who speaks some Russian?” Adam eventually asked and Lawson volunteered three names,

 

“One man, the carpenter, his father came from Volgograd.  He speaks fluently, the other two I think know only a smattering.” Masters said quietly.

 

“No one else?”  O’Brien frowned and looked over  at Adam who was stroking his neatly clipped beard as though in deep thought.

 

“I speak Russian.“ Philip said quietly, then leaned forward and poured more wine into their glasses, only Masters’ declined politely.   Adam glanced at him thoughtfully, before turning his attention to what Lawson was saying.  

 

“Several of the men have been here.”  Lawson said, swallowing  more wine, and unbuttoning his jacket a little, “I heard them discussing how they would like to go harpooning next time there’s a pod of whales going by, like they did some years back.  The whalers would occasionally chase the whales hereabouts,  when they realised that the Russians were too busy with their war in the Crimea to bother with them.”

 

“I heard some of the men talking about being here around about 1860.   They were culling seals, got good prices for the pelts.”   Friend offered, “But -” he paused, “they all said it’s a rough and hard terrain, difficult to travel through, especially in the interior.”

 

“Did any of them stay here long enough to learn any of the local languages?” Adam leaned back in his chair, and watched them as they continued with their meal, their talk looser, more relaxed,  as such meals with the Captain should be, for it was a sad Captain who couldn’t entertain his Officers and make life more amenable as a result.  So long as proper respect and discipline was observed on deck before the men such occasions as this meal afforded them the chance to be themselves.

 

None of them could offer any help in that respect, Masters emptied the last drops of wine from his glass and once again refused having it topped up anew;  Friend nearly knocked his glass over sending drops of the red wine to splash onto the cloth and Lawson pushed away his empty plate and smiled happily.   Adam beckoned to his steward and requested that coffee now be served.

 

As the evening drew to a close Richard was prevailed to send for his violin and Lawson his clarinet.   Familiar and well loved songs were sung to the music they played and t he evening ended on the final notes of Stephen Foster’s song ‘I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair …’

 

Outside the cabin window the stars shone so pin prick bright upon the dark sky that the constellations were remarkably clearly defined.   As his steward cleared away the table and removed the sight of the meal from the cabin, Adam was drawn to the window and looked up at the night sky before lowering his gaze upon the black sea.  Constantly in motion,  white foam a result of the wash from the ship, and ice floes clustering thickly to the left and right of them. 

 

He turned away with the tune they had just sung lingering in his mind, but it was Barbara’s face he could picture there, smiling at him as she had done the last time he had seen her.

 

Chapter 16

 

The stars were so  bright.  He felt he could reach out his hand and pluck a handful from the sky.  There was pain in his head.  He had to close his eyes …

 

“Joe!”         “JOE.”        “Hey, Shortshanks -”   “JOE”

 

“Have you seen him yet?”

 

“Not a sign.” Candy rubbed the back of his neck and then ran a hand over his chin.  “He can’t be that far away, Hoss, we were riding pretty close together.”

 

“Yeah but -” Hoss left the concluding words hanging in midair and sighed.  “I hate it when he does this.   Jest goes galloping off and gitting hisself into trouble.  I guarantee it, he’s in trouble somewhere - now, where in Pete’s name, could he have gotten to?”

 

“Perhaps if we split up -?”

 

Hoss turned to the left and headed towards  where he had last seen Joe.   Candy in turning his horse right rode towards where the ground gave way into a slight incline.   He had not been riding long before he came across Cochise standing patiently on the edge with one leg raised from the ground and his head drooping downwards.  It was obvious that the creature was in pain and exhausted.

 

Candy was swift to dismount and run over to the horse.  He put out a hand to catch at the reins as Cochise stumbled back  a few paces but once he had caught them securely and had fast hold the animal froze like a statue on the spot.

 

“Good boy.  Stay still now, Cooch.  Hey, hurt your leg huh?  Let me just look at that?”

 

He ran his hand expertly down the right foreleg and then shook his head.  When he looked up the horse was looking down at him with the black eyes looking trustingly into his face.  Candy stroked Cochise’s soft velvety nose and ran a hand down his neck, beneath the heavy mane,

 

“You’ll be alright, boy.  You’ll see, we’ll soon have you up and about again.  Now - if only you could tell me where you master is, that sure would be a relief.”  he smiled and Cochise blew softly down his nostrils, pushed his big head agains Candy’s chest as though he perfectly understood the problem and sympathised.

 

It wouldn’t do any harm to look around though, Candy told himself, and he began to walk towards the incline, noting the large number of hoof prints there were on the ground, a disturbance that spoke of more than one horseman being in the vicinity.  He glanced downwards and then his feet were carrying him forwards faster than his mind could think.

 

In his minds eye he could picture exactly what had happened.  A breakaway group of cattle headed towards the incline and Joe, on Cochise, followed them in an attempt to  head them off and turn them round in order to prevent them going over the edge and killed or injured.   Perhaps Cochise had outrun them and yet the impact of so many animals had knocked him down, sent Joe out of the saddle, down the incline to fall upon the rocks below.

 

“Joe?  Joe?”

 

He was on his knees by Joe’s side, Joe - so still, white face, dry cracked lips and dried blood on his face along with the grit and sand upon which he had fallen.

 

“Joe?  Speak to me, man, speak to me.”  he felt for a pulse at Joe’s throat and felt it weak and fluttering beneath his fingers.

 

Getting to his feet now Candy scrambled back to Cochise and took  the canteen of water from the saddle horn, then drew out his gun and fired off the three shots in the prayerful hope that Hoss would hear it and come to their aid.

 

Joe was surprised when he opened his eyes.  He had expected to see stars shining after all he had seen them there when he had closed his eyes and that had only been minutes ago - hadn’t it?   He saw a pale blob close to his face, two small blue specks within it and a dark something that seemed to open and close, open and close.  He shut his eyes again.   All he wanted was to sleep although he couldn’t think why, just that somehow life seemed much easier if he could just sleep.

 

“Drink some of this, Joe.”  and Candy poured some cold water into his mouth, some of which dribbled down his chin and some of which made the young man cough but it forced him to open his eyes again and look up into Candy’s frightened face.

 

“Hi Candy?” he whispered, “I feel kinda tired just now.”

 

“Don’t talk, Joe.” Candy said softly, patting Joe on the shoulder in as comforting a manner as he possibly could, “Are you in any pain?” he then asked, totally unaware of the contradiction in his statements to the injured man and Joe sighed, barely shook his head, closed his eyes and drifted back into the soft womb of unconsciousness.

 

Candy looked  up as he heard the sound of hoof beats, and then Hoss’ heavy breathing as he stumbled down towards them.  Hoss knelt beside his brother and stared at the still face which bore, oddly enough, a rather quizzical smile upon his lips.

 

“Don’t you fret none now, Joe, we’ll git you outa here quicker’n you can say Jack Robinson.”  the fact that Joe was incapable of saying anything didn’t seem to have entered his mind.   “Joe?  Can you hear me?  Joe -” Hoss was now breathing heavy and sweat coating his skin “Joe, hey, fella, come on now - wake up.”

 

Joe’s head lolled upon Hoss’ shoulder and his eyes remained firmly closed.    Two cowboys rode up in response to the signal, and had dismounted and scrabbled down  to stand alongside them,  

 

“Shall we go git a doc,  Hoss?” one man asked

 

“Git the wagon ready.  I’m taking him to the nearest town. “ Hoss declared and prepared to scoop Joe into his arms, but Candy placed a resisting hand on his chest.

 

“I don’t think we should move him, Hoss.  We don‘t know what injuries he has and could be doing him more harm if we take him from here.  Get a blanket and cover him, keep him warm.  I’ll ride back to the Ponderosa and tell your father what’s happened.  Clancy can ride into the nearest town and get a doctor.”

 

Hoss swallowed on bile and shook his head.  It would take Candy two to three days to get Pa from the Ponderosa, and the nearest town was only three miles from where they had camped.  He knew that because some of the men had gone there for a drink and some carousing the previous evening, before the stampede.  He stood up and put a hand on Candy’s arm,

 

“Clancy - go git and tell my Pa what’s happened.  Tell him we’ll be at Jacksonville.  Candy, ride into town and git the doctor here.    Take my horse, it’s fresher than your’n.”

 

Candy nodded, behind him Clancy was already mounting his horse and turning its head back towards home.  Thompson was about to ask what he should do when Hoss ordered him to return to camp, get blankets, laudanum, water and to bring it to them.

 

Once the dust had settled and the sound of the horses had faded long into the distance Hoss dropped onto his knees beside his brother and brushed away some dust from the handsome face. 

 

“Shucks, Joe, you always have to find trouble, don’t’cha?” he whispered hollowly, and grief knotted itself in his gut, rose to his throat and spilled over into a sob.

 

Chapter 17

 

 

The doctor was not too pleased to be hauled from his surgery to attend to Joe. 

 

“You cowboys always getting yourself into trouble, why don’t you just -”

 

“You do know Ben Cartwright of the Ponderosa, don’t you, sir?”  Candy swept off his hat and looked respectfully at the other man who was still bumbling about his office pulling out drawers from his desk and rummaging about his pockets as though what wasn’t in the drawers was bound to be found there.

 

“Of course, what has that to do with it?”

 

“The injured cowboy is his youngest son.   Now, I don’t need to tell you what Mr Cartwright will do to this town if anything happens to -”

 

“I’m coming -  I’m coming. No need  to take on so …”  he found his hat, grabbed his medical kit and hurried from the building with his shirt tails hanging beneath his jacket.

 

Joe slipped in and out of consciousness throughout the hours.   Sometimes he would look up at Hoss, smile and say something stupid, something that indicated that his brain was not quite in gear with his mouth.    Hoss didn’t mind too much as it meant his little brother was still in the land of the living and if not coherent, he was not in obvious pain.

 

Other times Joe got feverish and groaned, his legs would shake and quiver as though he was trying to move them but couldn’t.   He would cry out then for his Pa, for Hoss or Adam.   Once he called out the name of a young lady in town whom Hoss had no idea Joe even knew, so that gave him something to think about as he sat by his brother ‘s side and bathed his face with water, or poured the refreshingly cool liquid into his mouth.

 

“It hurts, Hoss.” Joe groaned and grabbed his brother’s hand so tight that the flesh went white.

 

“Whereabouts, Joe?   Where does it hurt?”

 

“I don’t know.  Everywhere.  All over.”  Joe waggled his hand limply in a circle and then stared up at the sky, “Sky’s so blue.  Thought there were stars there, Hoss.”

 

“There were when you fell down here.  What happened exactly, Joe, can you remember?”

 

“Remember?” Joe screwed up his eyes and groaned, and once again gripped onto Hoss’ hand, clenched his teeth and then passed out, back into the black oblivion that rescued him from the pain.

 

Hoss thought he had been waiting by his brother’s side for hours, which he had, except that it seemed twice as long to him.   When Candy arrived with the doctor  he scrambled to his feet and almost fell down again as his legs had gone so numb just sitting by Joe’s side so long.

 

“Hoss Cartwright, Doc.” he extended his hand which the doctor ignored, and Hoss took it as a good sign  of efficiency on the doctors part so didn’t take such a breach of etiquette to heart.  He stepped back, rubbed his hands on the back of his pants, and prayed under his breath.

 

Joe opened his eyes and looked at the elderly man who was carefully examining him.  He tried to speak but the doctor pressed something that was broken inside of him so he squeaked and groaned instead.   Dr Duncan took his time with the examination and then with a sigh stood up.

 

“Get a wagon here, plenty of blankets if you haven’t a mattress handy.   Then lift him carefully onto it and bring him to my surgery.   I’ll give him some medication now which will help him handle any extra pain, and bandage up his ribs.”   he rubbed his hands together  and began to look into his bag, while Hoss hovered anxiously close by, “You say he fell over this incline ?”

 

“I guess so, sir.” Hoss nodded,

 

Duncan shook his head and examined a phial of medicine which he checked carefully before measuring out a good dosage for Joe.  “He must have rubber bones.”

 

“Yeah, we kinda always thought that way too.” Hoss nodded looking anxiously at the doctor who was spooning the liquid into Joe’s mouth, “Is he going to be alright though?”

 

“If he’s strong and healthy and there isn’t anything internally damaged I should think so.  I can’t guarantee it though. “

 

The wagon arrived and Hoss scooped Joe into his arms and carefully carried him to where the wagon had stopped.   Joe was gently settled down and in his semi-comatose state was driven away.  Hoss rode close behind on Chubb,  making sure that he was close at hand whenever Joe opened his eyes.

 

“Candy,  you’ll have to take over as foreman.”  Hoss said to his friend as they rode side by side towards Jacksonville.  “I’ll have to stay with Joe.”

 

“I understand that, Hoss.”

 

“Fact is we’re going to be late anyhow, unless you can make up time without those cows losing anymore fat.  The buyers will be waiting for some prime beef and we’ll just have to hope that by the time those steers reach them they’ll be just that …” he brow crinkled, “I can’t leave my brother, you do understand that, don’t you?”

 

Candy said that he did, and didn’t mention to Hoss that he was repeating himself as he took it to show just how concerned the man was for his little brother.  Candy frowned, not that Joe was that little anymore, he was a mature grown man with an amazing ability to get himself into the most preposterous situations.   He said nothing more but shook Hoss’ hand and wheeled his horse around to head back to camp.

 

Dr Duncan was a good doctor, and in some ways, being younger, he was more up to date with medical matters than Paul Martin.   He spent some hours attending to Joe, and then, satisfied that he had done everything he possibly could for the young man, left him to recover and sought out his brother who was pacing a hole in the floor in the adjoining room.

 

“Well, Doc, how is he?”  Hoss pushed his fingers through his scant hair leaving it standing on end which made him look as though he had just had a visitation from a ghost.

 

“He should be fine in a few more days.”

 

“Should?”  Hoss’ brow crinkled, “Don’t you mean, he will be alright in a few days?”

 

“I do know my own diagnosis thank you” Duncan scowled, went to a bowl and washed his hands thoroughly, “I can mend bones, give medication and bandage up wounds, but I can’t take it for granted that internal bleeding, shock, a weak heart -”

 

“He ain’t got no weak heart.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because if he had a weak heart he’d be dead by now considering all the trouble he’s been in during his life time.”

 

“Alright, we’ll forget about the weak heart.” Duncan shrugged, “Your brother is a fighter, strong but all I’m trying to say to you is that I can’t guarantee a full recovery because there are certain conditions that could develop about which I don’t know.  I have done everything possible at this point of time, now it’s a case of having to wait and see.”

 

Hoss nodded slowly.   In his life time he had done a lot of waiting and seeing with Joe.  He sighed, done a fair share of it with Adam too.   He paced the floor a little more and then asked the doctor if it would be alright to go and see Joe, but Duncan said no, he couldn’t have visitors until morning.

 

It then occurred to Hoss that the day had passed and he had not eaten.   Once Duncan repeated the fact that he could not see his brother until the next day Hoss enquired where the nearest restaurant was and if it would be alright with the Doc to return after he had eaten, just to wait in case Joe came round and needed him.  Duncan watched the big man leave the surgery and with a sigh sat down at his desk to write out his notes on this latest case. 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

Winter was not prepared to yield to spring without a final grumble and as temperatures plunged the ice floes began to meld together to form  larger and deeper  islands of ice.  The wind became much stronger  and the sails had to be fixed down  to their spars so that a minimal speed could be maintained in order for the helmsman to navigate through the ice.   It was hard to concentrate as the wind howled and the ice groaned and creaked to create a formidable barrier through which the Ainola had to pass.

 

Adam stopped writing and glanced at the door, called “Enter” in his deep voice and leaned back into the chair to view the intruder of his privacy.   He tapped the pen upon the blotter on his desk and looked thoughtfully at Josef Rostov, their carpenter.  The carpenter pulled off his cap and clutched it to his chest, his eyes roamed around the cabin until finally settling upon the other man seated at the desk.

 

“Josef Rostov?   You’re our ship’s carpenter?”

 

“Yes, Captain.”

 

Adam pursed his lips and frowned.  It had been a stupid question really, anyone could see that the man was the carpenter, not only because he had sawdust on his clothes, curls of wood caught in his hair, but he had the smell of a man who handled wood.   Adam could tell by the way the man’s hands were fidgeting that there was something in the room he had seen that needed to be ‘put right’, he had seen his brother Hoss’ fingers fidget in just the same way when he saw a lame duck or  half dead animal on the Ponderosa.

 

Josef observed his Captain thoughtfully.  He scratched the back of his head which itched and because it kept  his hands from reaching out to caress the wood of the desk.   His dark eyes returned to survey Adam.  Well, close up he looked good,  not so much a figurehead as he did when walking about the ship in his uniform with his hands clasped behind his back and on his face always the look of someone with too much on his mind.   Here now Josef could see that the Captain was younger than one first thought,  handsome too with good healthy strong teeth and hair that curled over the collar of his shirt.   Dark hair, dark eyes and a sallow complexion.   A man who had enjoyed the sun all his life and was now gaining the pallor of one who lived in the north.    Josef could see the strength in the broad shoulders and the gentleness in the finely shaped hands.  By and large Josef felt he liked his Captain and as a result he relaxed a little.

 

“Josef, I have been told that your father was Russian?”

 

“That’s right.  He went to America shortly before I was born.  My mother was Polish.”

 

“Do you speak both languages?”

 

“Yes, I do.   I have done since birth … if you know what I mean” and he smiled and the pale face lit up with good humour, the bright eyes twinkled and shone bluer than before.

 

“Do you  have any assistants on board? “

 

“Assitants?  Oh yes, two lazy great clods who eat too much and work too little.  You would recognise them I think, they are the two fattest men on board ship.”

 

“Perhaps you don’t let them do the work, being so skilled yourself.”

 

Josef shrugged, “Perhaps - I take pride in my work, not like them.  Lazy -” he would have spat on the   floor but remembered in time that he was not in his work place.

 

“Do you know much about this territory, Josef?”

 

“My father told me stories about it … the weather can be treacherous.  A man has to be careful where he puts his feet.   My father was a seal catcher for many years.   The seals with the best coats come from this part of the world.”

 

“You’ve never been here yourself?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Did your father ever talk about the people in the territory?”

 

“Eskimo.  Yes.  He told me some things about them.   They’re tough people, have to be  to live here.”

 

“Yes, of course, they would have to be -” Adam sighed and tapped the pen once again against the blotter, “Thanks for coming, Josef, you can go now.”

 

He watched as the door closed behind him and wrote something down  on the paper upon which he had been writing before Josef came.  Then he cast down the pen, walked to the cabin window and peered out.

 

Once again he took from his pocket the small envelope that had been marked Private and been among the papers along with the final orders.  He took from it the letter and read it through slowly, then with a frown, replaced it.   He sighed, and looked at the ice thickening and gathering around the ship.   Snow was falling, being thrown against the window by the wind.   He looked out and yet his mind was already elsewhere.   Bad news was always hard to bear, no matter who delivered it or how.

 

Chapter 19

 

How the ice groaned as it stealthily floated closer together to bind into a solid mass around the Ainola.   Gazing down at the solid mass Adam felt a tumult of emotions raging through his very being.  Every man on the ship would be looking towards him for a solution from this problem, every man’s life on the ship was his responsibility and just at that moment he had no idea of what to do.

 

The helmsman looked at the Captain’s stern face, so still that it could have been chiselled from the ice as the dark eyes stared out into the swirling white snow.  

 

“Captain, the wheels froze -” he muttered, and had the common sense not to add that his hands were as well.

 

Adam nodded, but didn’t say anything, nor look his way.  Snow struck against his face, settled upon his coat and hat.   Davies was unsure now as to what to do.  With the steering wheel frozen there was no longer control over the ship, the sails had been fastened to the spars (and who knew when or how to unfasten them when they too would have been frozen solid),  and the snow continued to fall.

 

The ship groaned, caught fast now in the ever invading ice.  Adam put a hand across his mouth and nose in order to feel some warmth as he inhaled a sharp breath, then turned to Davies.

 

“Go and thaw out, man.  There’s nothing for you to do here just now.”

 

No need to drop anchor.  No need to do anything just now as the snow continued to fall and the ice squeezed the Ainola tighter into its grip.  Night was falling, darkness gathering.   Adam shivered and turned, glanced up and saw the hoar frost gilding the ropes and masts, turning the ship into a spectacular fairy land of twinkling freezing light.

 

A dark shape approached and O’Brien emerged through the snow, his hands in his pockets and his head lowered against the drifting flakes,

 

“Captain,  Abbott said your meal was ready.”

 

“Thank you, Daniel, I don’t -” he paused and nodded, remembering the first rule he had been taught … don’t show your inadequacies to the rest of the crew it makes them despondent and lose confidence.  “I don’t think we’ll be going anywhere just now.”

 

“It’s getting too dark to see now, sir.”

 

“Yes.” Adam turned and followed O’Brien down the steps and onto the deck.  Once again he glanced about him as the new moon slid into view in a darkening sky and made the ship glitter “It looks rather beautiful like this, doesn’t it?” he said very quietly and O’Brien smiled, nodded, and shivered.  “We’ll deal with the matter tomorrow.  Hopefully the ice won’t smash through her  -”

 

“Is that possible?” O’Brien asked with a more than usually anxious tone to his voice and Adam nodded, “What can we do to prevent it happening?”

 

A sensible question and Adam paused at the door leading to the passageway to his cabin and looked at his friend thoughtfully,

 

“We’ll need to keep a close watch on the ice,” the door closed behind him and together they walked to the cabin, to warmth and a hot meal.  “I want you to get men on the night watches to have lanterns, lowered, close to the water line.  If the ice thickens and crowds in too close to the ship then lower the boats, use whatever tools are available to hack the ice away, keep the boats moving alongside the ship -” he paused, removed his outer coat and threw it across the back of a chair, “make sure that the men are warmly clad, Daniel, get the cook to make hot stew, soup, anything that will keep the cold from their bones.  I don’t want any man ill during this trip -”  he stopped once again, “then come back here and get something hot to eat and drink with me.”

 

Daniel nodded, and left the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him.  Once alone Adam sat down at the table and looked over at the man who served as his steward, Abbott.   Jeffrey Abbott.   A tall thickset man who was taciturn by nature, but acted towards Adam with the proficiency of a butler in an English stately home.

 

“Have you eaten, Abbott?”

 

“I have, sir.”

 

Adam poured himself some hot coffee, his hands were shaking from the cold and he put the pot down,  rubbed his hands together,

 

“It’s cold -” he muttered as though it were necessary to explain his inability to hold the coffee pot to his own steward.   What if the man could guess at his fears?   He looked down at his hands and was surprised to see that the fingers were white.   Abbott stepped towards him,

 

“Shall I,  sir?” and he picked up the coffee and poured out the steaming hot liquid into a cup handing it deferentially to his Captain.

 

“Thank you, Abbott.  I hadn’t realised I had been outside for so long, nor that I’d got so cold.”

 

“You must take care, sir, we can’t afford you being ill at this stage of the trip.”

 

Adam said nothing to that, but held the cup between his frozen hands, inhaled the bitter aroma of the coffee and began to sip it slowly as he thought over his instructions to O’Brien.  

 

He had thought spring had finally arrived, but the seasons here had fooled him.  A mild day always followed by three bitterly cold ones, and the next mild day not mild enough to prevent the ice from solidifying around them.   Who would have thought this journey would be prevented by a winter that should have already ended?   His hands were thawing, he poured himself more coffee

 

“How are we off for provisions?”

 

“Very well stocked, sir.”

 

“Livestock?”

 

“Sufficient for some time yet, sir.”

 

Adam put his cup down and thought over the inventory that he had been given at the beginning of the journey.   They had, as personnel, left in haste, but the Admiralty had known of the mission for some time and had provided well with everything that could possibly be needed.   In the bowels of the ships were several milk cows, two pigs,  several coops for chickens.    Every ship had their own little farmyard when they left harbour, most returned with the farmyard long emptied, often becoming the ships hospital instead.

 

Ben would have roasted a steer by now and Adam rubbed his brow with his cold fingertips, how could he roast a steer on board ship?   The door opened and O’Brien came in, closed it behind him, and joined him at the table.

 

“Everything’s in order, sir.”  he gave a half smile, “I saw the doctor,  he has one man with a broken arm, slipped on some ice.   Another fellow has concussion, fell down a hatchway.   Permission to eat, sir?”

 

Adam forced his mind back to what O’Brien was saying and nodded,

 

“When we come back, Daniel, we’ll roast a steer for the men …”

 

Daniel chuckled as he helped himself to the hot food,  and shook his head,

 

“On board ship, sir?”

 

“No,” and Adam smiled at the other mans laughter, “In  some countries when the ice is thick enough they would hold winter markets and roast pigs and sheep.   We’ll do that here, when we get back -”

 

“We’ve got to leave here first, sir.” came O’Brien’s gentle reminder.

 

Adam said nothing to that but merely smiled, raised an eyebrow, and began to eat.  Behind him Abbott stood with his hands clasped behind him.  

 

……………..

 

The men stumbled up the freezing ropes and onto the deck, their hands blistered from the cold, and their feet numb.   They passed on their tools to the next shift of men who now descended into the boats and broke away the ice while four of them would row the frail vessels up and down, up and down in the ice splattered black waters, preventing the forming of the thick pack ice that would smash through their ship’s hull.

 

An hour was more than sufficient for each man as the wind had increased in ferocity and the chill blown up from the ice rendered it impossible for the men to stay out longer.  Up they would shimmy from the boats to get hot soup and retire to their hammocks until their next shift while other men took their places.

 

A constant, never ending battle against the very nature of the territory and if any man thought his Captain slept that night, they didn’t know the man and thought wrongly.

 

Chapter 20

 

Adam was standing by his desk with his back straight, his head erect and his eyes looking at each one of the four men standing in front of him.   Each of them was wearing their outer waterproof coats,  their hat under their right arm, and gloves clutched in their hands.  They stared equally resolutely back at their Captain and if anyone remarked that he looked weary no one mentioned it, having had trouble sleeping themselves.

 

They had only shortly before been standing on the f’castle, scanning the horizon as the sun rose tinting the ice with hues of pink and orange, garish magnificent shades of colour that splashed across their view with all the promise of an adventuresome day.

 

Adam had spanned the area through the telescope that a soldier called George Armstrong Custer had given him as a gift some years earlier.  He had then turned to his Officers and requested that O’Brien, Lawson, Thomas and Masters joined him in his cabin.

 

Now here they were, five men with the responsibility of over a hundred lives and the safety of their ship and their mission.   They waited to give and to receive orders that would see them successful or not.

 

“This is what I need you to do -” Adam said quietly, slowly, his strong deep voice resonant and firm, his dark eyes resting on each face while his mind wondered whether or not the man behind the mask was capable of the task.   “Square the ship to the four boats,  run a line from each one back to the ship.   Each boat to be manned by 24 men with the equipment necessary to break up the ice when and where necessary to provide a wide enough channel for the ship to break through.   Where necessary you will manhandle the boats across the ice, keeping a pilot line to the ship at all times in order to drag her through.   Where the ice is loosely packed get into the boats and row the Ainola along the channels.  Each one of you to pilot a boat,  pick  your men carefully.   Some of them have worked hard during the night,  they’ll be weary.”

 

“Not that weary, sir, that they won’t pull their hardest for you.” O’Brien cried sincerely, such sentiment receiving a nod of the head from each man there.

 

“They’re all good men, sir.” Masters added, thinking of the ice, the cold, the water.  He tried to suppress a shiver and forced a tight lipped smile.

 

“They  are,” Adam nodded in agreement, “Once we’re out in open water again we can unfurl the sheets and get her under way again.   Mr. O’Brien, will you muster the men, please.”

 

Not one of them glanced at any other man there but turned with one accord to leave the cabin.   As they left Adam reached out for his outer coat and shrugged himself into it, slowly he affixed his hat upon his dark hair, and began to button the coat up while all the time his mind was drifting back to some of the things his father had told him of his own adventures at sea.   He had a smile upon his lips as he closed the door to the cabin and made his way to the upper deck.

 

All the men were there, as warmly dressed as they could be, looking eagerly at him, waiting for his orders with the same enthusiasm as they would if about to engage the enemy in battle.   His eyes went swiftly from face to face, some he remembered and could put names to them, others were vague memories of someone who had been seen fleetingly working on deck.   A man coughed, a harsh racking cough and he stopped his scrutiny and frowned,

 

“You there - what’s your name?”

 

“Hanratty, sir.”

 

“That’s a bad cough you have there, Mr Hanratty.  Go below, sir, and report to the doctor .”

 

“It’s but a cough, sir -”

 

“I can’t afford to lose any man here, Hanratty.  Pneumonia and influenza can kill more men than any bullets, get below.”

 

Hanratty slunk off,  scowling but coughing as he went.   Several men held their breaths and struggled to suppress coughs, going slightly purple in the faces as they did so.

 

Now he told them their orders,  he could tell from their faces that they could understand what he was saying and were eager to make the attempt to free the vessel from her ice bound prison.    Within minutes the Jacobs  (rope) ladders were unfurled, and the men swarmed down to the boats, lines were fixed amidship and aft.   One by one the Officers went down the ladders  and took their position in the boats.  Just for a mile or so they would be rowing through broken crushed ice, black inky water to where they could see the rim of ice ahead.

 

How grateful Adam had been to see a morning dawn without the snow,  the wind had dropped,  and the sun, a cruel mockery without any heat to it, shone in a blue, blue sky.    He stood beside Davies, his telescope beneath his arm,  his eyes on the four boats as the men took the strain  and pulled at their oars.   Standing tall and erect in each boat at its head was the designated Officer and Adam felt the thrill of pride in his men as he watched each one of them.   The lines tautened and slowly, slowly, the Ainola began to move.

 

“Helmsman, how stands the wheel?”

 

“Tight, sir.”

 

“Stand ready, get the feel of her through the timbers.”

 

“Aye, sir.”

 

He never took their eyes from them and when they could no longer row the boats he watched as they hauled them onto the ice and hacked a wide enough channel for the ship to nudge into,  breaking the crust of the ice apart as it was hauled along  solely on the strength of the men as they pulled their boats and tautened the lines between them and the ship.   Slow progress.  Hard, such hard labour  but it was working,  the Ainola ‘s keel edged into the channels the men had hacked loose for her, and while they hauled their boats along the ice the great ship sliced through the frozen barrier behind them.

 

There was a sudden crack like a minor explosion and everyone stopped in their tracks and stared around them.   A vast section of ice calved away from the glacier to which it had adhered for years upon years, and now crashed into the sea.   The Ainola bucked slightly as the waves wafted beneath the ice to buffet her.   The sleek black shape of several seals dived into the water as their ice bound home slid into the sea.  Then their large domed heads broke the surface and black moist eyes turned to watch the progress of the four boats and the majestic vessel that seemed to float over the water behind them.

 

Time and again the men hauled the boats into the water to row through the ice strewn morass and then clamber back out and slide them across the ice to recommence with their tools at breaking away the ice for the ship to cleave into and break a passage through.

 

At mid-day Abbott came with a flask of something hot for the Captain, and Davies was sent down amidships to eat and rest while Gibbs came to relieve him.   Adam walked over to the steps leading down to the deck and called over to Richard Friend to run up the flags and signal the men to return to the ship.

 

Within half an hour the men were back, easing their aching bones onto the benches of their billet in order to eat a hot meal and rest awhile, all the time talking excitedly about the adventure upon which they were taking part.

 

“It’s the warmest we’ve been in weeks, sir.” Masters grinned as he ate his stew in the Captain’s cabin, “The men are enjoying the labour and it seems we are getting the job done, doesn’t it, sir?”

 

“It’s a great idea, Captain,” Philip Thomas smiled at Adam and his Captain merely nodded, smiled and concentrated on eating his stew.

 

He could have told them how he remembered sitting on his father’s lap as a small boy being told the strange adventures of Abel Stoddard, his grandfather, years and years before he himself was born.   He could have told them that a wise man had once written in the Bible that there was nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1 v 9) but he didn’t, they still had some way to go yet and who knew what could happen?

 

The men descended the ladders with a cheer,  Richard Friend took the place of Jack Lawson who had a deep wound to his hand where some ice and a clumsy manouvre with a pick had cut through the flesh.    Once again they took to the boats, rowing where necessary, their backs bending, straightening and bending again and again over their oars, and then clambering onto the ice shelf to bear their tools upon  it to create the channel for the Ainola to slide into .

 

As the sun, (a mockery of the ones Adam knew from the Ponderosa,  for it had held no warmth throughout the day,) finally began its descent the men gave a cheer as the ship finally sailed into open seas once again.   Ice floes eddied in her wake, and seals swam and clapped their flippers as though they also could see something about which to be amused.  

 

The Ainola bounced upon the waters  and then settled.    Officer of the watch took a sounding measurement and reported that all was well.   The men rowed their boats back to the ship, clambered wearily up the ladders, subdued and silent from  the sheer exertion put upon them.  The boats were hauled and secured in their proper places.  Adam shook the hands of the officers and wished them a good night’s sleep.   Even O’Brien was too tired to say a word, but mustered a smile, a salute and departed to his billet.  

 

“Courage doesn’t always roar,

Sometimes it is a quiet voice at

The end of the day saying

‘I will try again tomorrow.’           

 

 only this time,  tomorrow didn’t matter, not now.  They had reached Lat 59.098 N Longitude 160.80    As Adam checked the co-ordinates on the maps he knew the next land mass they came to would be the one they sought and time to leave the Ainola.

 

Chapter 21

 

 

Adam stood silently beside the helmsman as the Ainola approached the  coastline of the island and frowned a little as he observed a quite uninviting land.   He took his watch from his pocket observed it thoughtfully and returned it,  before turning to Davies who was on duty at this time,

 

“We need to turn two points to starboard, head for the northern shore.”

 

“Aye, Captain”  Davies nodded, a man of few words himself he appreciated direct orders from this man and deftly spun the wheel.

 

Adam went down the steps to the lower deck and watched as the men went about their work.  Being busy was the important part of life on board ship, allow too much idleness then the whole area becomes claustrophobic and the men become restless and ill disciplined.    As he passed Timothy Masters he asked him to ‘request’ the carpenter to come to his cabin.

 

Once inside the cabin Adam rubbed his hands together and wished, not for the first time, that he had refused to come along on this journey.  He had never felt so unendingly cold.    Abbott came with hot coffee and some rather hard biscuits, and Adam had a sudden longing for Hop Sing’s cooking.  He leaned his back against his desk as he stared thoughtfully out of the cabins window  at the bleakness beyond, his hands cradled around the cup.    His father and brothers would be enjoying the warmth of a spring sun upon their bodies, riding through the Ponderosa and getting on with the chores of the day.    Perhaps now they would be going into Virginia City and Hoss would be buying them a round of drinks.

 

Joe’s face came into vision so clearly that he could see every line of it, and then there was Hoss, sweating because he was too hot and Pa with his black eyes and anxious smile.   Adam thought of all the letters he had written to them,  all marked with a number to keep them in chronological order when he would at last be able to send them off.   Or someone would send them off to them on his behalf if things didn’t work out.   He sighed and as he half turned to welcome the carpenter he thought he could hear Barbara sighing his name.

 

“Rostov -?” he forced a smile, it was hard sometimes to drag himself away from these visions of family and home.  He wondered if all the men there suffered the same self induced misery and especially O’Brien who had left his new wife at home.

 

Josef Rostov stood at the doorway and waited.  He scratched his head and then took off his cap.    He looked thoughtfully at the Captain who was staring at him as though he wasn’t seeing him but saw, instead, someone else.   He cleared his throat and Adam nodded and beckoned to him to come inside and close the door.

 

“Rostov, how long will it take you to make a sledge?”

 

“Depends on what size you want it, Captain.” Rostov  replied as though the request wasn’t a surprise at all.  He merely began to think up a design of one in his head while waiting for Adams instructions.

 

“Large enough to take tents, equipment, food supplies over to the island for a few days, maybe a week even.”

 

“Oh well, a good size one then?   Well, it won’t take that long.  Could start now and finish tomorrow.”

 

“I want it finished by this evening.  We shall be leaving the Ainola early tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, sir.”  Rostov turned to leave, he didn’t question who the ‘we’ were and he had his hand on the door when Adam said

 

“Make sure you have warm clothing, good boots,  snow shoes.”

 

“Me, sir?”

 

“Yes.” Adam frowned, “You said your father had some knowledge of this territory and you speak Russian.    We will need to ask you to act as our interpreter, Josef.”

 

“Oh.”  Josef scratched his head, “It’s just that those layabouts -”

 

“Will have to learn to work.  Perhaps they rely too much on your initiative, Josef.” and Adam smiled, “We will need your expertise on this expedition, so make sure that you have everything you need and want.”

 

“I’ll make sure it’s a good strong sledge, sir.” Josef’s serious face broke into a smile, although his eyes still had a rather anxious look about them.

 

Once the door had closed Adam ran his fingers through his dark hair and shook his head.   Once again he wished, longed,  he were back home.The door opened again and O’Brien stepped into the cabin, saluted and took off his hat,

 

“I just met Rostov, he was talking to himself -”  he smiled, “I think it was in Russian.”

 

“Practising no doubt, he’s going to have to be our interpreter for this assignment.”

 

“I thought you would be taking -” O’Brien stopped, it was not for him to question the Captain and he bit his bottom lip.

 

“No, I need Philip Thomas to stay here.   His interest in geology will be useful and he speaks Russian, I know, but that will be needed here as well.  If any Russians do happen to come this way, although I now doubt it, he would be the best person on board to deflect any suspicions on what we are really here for.”

 

“Yes, of course.” O’Brien pursed his lips, shrugged.  “This lady we have to bring on board, do we know anything more about her other than her name and that she’s married to one of the local men?”

 

“No, nothing more.”  Adam picked up some papers and seemed to find them of some interest while O’Brien stood there, “It’s possible that we may have some difficulty getting her to the ship.”

 

“I can understand that, she’s Russian after all.”

 

“The papers she has are even more important than she is -” Adam sighed, “The difficulties you encountered during the journey - well, we may encounter them again on this part of our assignment. ”

 

“We’ve come through so far pretty well.” O’Brien observed, “Do you think we may have brought them on board with us?”

 

“Possibly,”  Adam put the papers down and walked to a chair which he eased himself into, “You must miss your home, and your wife.  What’s her name, Daniel ?  You’ve not said much about her.”   he beckoned to the chair opposite and Daniel sat down, relaxed into the comfortable leatherwork and smiled,

 

“Oh, she’s beautiful, sir, much too good for me.   Her name’s Maria and her family are New England stock.   Maria -” he paused, emotion caught at his throat and he had to lower his eyes  and stare at the patterns on the rug at his feet as he struggled to push down the feelings that had flooded through him at the thought of her, “Maria’s beautiful,  brown eyed, long lashes, always smiling.  I guess she’s the cheeriest girl a man could ever know.   I’ve known her and her family for some years but when I got back home after my last trip away, she had changed so much.  She was a young woman and just about took my breath away when I first saw her again.”

 

“I’m sorry this assignment dragged you away from her, Daniel.”

 

“Oh,  it didn’t drag me away, sir, after all I’m in service and I go where I’m assigned.  Maria comes from a military family and she understands that a man goes where he’s sent.”  he mustered a smile and looked up at Adam with such a plaintive look on his honest face that Adam had to clear his own throat and look away, unable to meet those eyes.

 

“I’ve decided to take Rostov as our interpreter, and Jack Lawson.”  he said quickly, “There only needs to be a small party of us.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Daniel O’Brien dragged his thoughts away from Maria and back to the assignment on hand, “It’ll be alright, sir.” he said after some seconds had uncomfortably elapsed.

 

“Yes, of course.” Adam nodded and stood up, walked to his desk and straightened out a rough map, O’Brien was immediately at his side, “This is the only settlement on the island … it’s roughly drawn because there hasn’t been any ordinance survey done on this territory by our Government as yet.     The lady we’re seeking should be there, at Savoonga”   he frowned, “I think we may be allowed to find her, but -”

 

“You’ve a feeling in your bones, sir?”

 

“Yes, I’ve a feeling in my bones that we may not be too successful in getting her here.” and he rolled up the map and set it aside.   “There’s things to arrange, now, Daniel, so let’s get on with it.  Send Masters, Lawson and Friend in to see me, would you?”

 

Daniel nodded, glanced thoughtfully at the face of the man beside him, and then turned to leave the cabin.

 

………………………..

 

Joseph opened his eyes and found himself staring up at a cracked uneven ceiling.   He closed his eyes again and sighed, then opened them again as a hand gripped his arm and Hoss’ voice could be heard as though from a long distance away.

 

“Hoss?   What hit me this time?” he murmured forcing his eyes open to look up into the anxious face of his brother.

 

“Nuthin’.  It’s what you landed on -  could’ve broken your back -”

 

Joe’s voice rose to a falsetto and he cleared his throat, “You know, Hoss, I ain’t feeling so good right now. Am I home?”

 

“Shucks no, you’re still in Jacksonville.”

 

Joe closed his eyes again.   He could recall the noise and the dust of that evening as the cattle stampeded.  He could remember now seeing some breakaway and head for what looked like the edge of a cliff and he had sent Cochise there at full gallop.   He thought he had rounded them off, he’d yelled and waved his lariat about although even then he could recall wondering why he had bothered as it was so dark.

 

Then there was the sheer number of them, surging forwards, and the head of one of them had butted against Cochise, against his leg, and he recalled his hands letting go of the rope, of the reins, and then he and Cochise falling …

 

“Cooch!” he exclaimed “Cooch.  Where’s my horse?  Hoss, where’s Cooch?”

 

“Shucks, Joe, calm yourself down.”   Hoss frowned and then shook his head, “Cochise is alright.  His leg was all banged up but we got that fixed.  He’s in the stables here in town, eating his head off.”

 

Joe relaxed and fell back against the pillows,

 

“I can remember us falling, Cochise was squealing and I thought - I thought he wasn’t going to make it.    I must have blacked out -”

 

“Sure, guess you did.”

 

“I remember coming round once, couldn’t move my legs, thought I was already dead.”  Joe’s voice trailed away as he remembered the number of times he had opened his eyes to look up into the night sky, to see the stars, so many stars.

 

“Pa arrived not so long ago.  He’s talking to the doc right now.  You may have to stay put a while yet, little brother.”

 

“What?  Here?”  Joe’s eyes widened in protest, “Shucks, Hoss, not here?”

 

“Yeah, I know how you’re feeling .  The food at the hotel is lousy, and the beds lumpy.”  Hoss scowled, “Pa said he’ll get you home as soon as he can.   Hop Sing’ll soon have you up and about, see if he don’t.”

 

Joe shuddered.  Perhaps he was glad there was no pain, no feeling to aggravate how he felt.  Perhaps, had he thought hard enough, there should have been some pain, some feeling.   He felt tired, too tired to think.  His eyes closed involuntarily and he slipped back into the kind of sleep that a body needs when damaged and broken.  A healing sleep.   Hoss stood up, walked to the window and stared out at the town with its sun blistered buildings.  He rubbed a hand over his face and wiped away the tears that had over spilled from his eyes.  The door opened but he didn’t turn around, not just yet.

 

“Alright, son?” a deep warm loving voice and Hoss nodded,

 

“Yeah -” he said gruffly, “Yeah, Pa, I’m alright.”

 

Chapter 22

 

Ben stood by the door for a few more moments and then after another anxious glance at Hoss he walked to Joe’s bedside and sat down in the chair by his side.  He said nothing, but placed a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder as though by doing so he could reassure himself as well as Joe that things would be alright.

 

He thought over the things that Dr Duncan had mentioned to him earlier.  That he had checked Joe over when they had first brought him to him, had set the broken arm and put it in splints and had assumed that the young man would be alright in a few more days.   But after some hours had passed it was obvious that something was wrong, something that he, as his doctor, had not noticed earlier and which now needed urgent attention.  

 

Ben glanced up as Hoss walked towards him, he nodded and forced a smile,

 

“No one’s to blame for this, Hoss.  Cattle drives, stampedes - it’s part of the job.”

 

“Sure, Pa, I know that, and I know that it could have happened to anyone of us at any time, it’s just that I thought he was going to jest git up and walk right outa here before you even got here.”

 

Ben nodded, there was nothing worse than having one’s hopes raised only to see them dashed within hours.   Hoss began to pace the floor, driving one clenched fist into the palm of his other hand as he did so.   Ben eventually had to tell him to stop because it did neither of them any good fretting so, and suggested that Hoss saw about them having something to drink and even, perhaps, some food.

 

Joe must have heard the door click shut because he opened his eyes and turned his head in the direction of the sound.   Then he saw Ben and for a moment just stared dumbly at him, as though he had not expected to see his father there by his bedside in any other place but the Ponderosa.

 

“Hi, Pa, what are you doin’ here?” he smiled sleepily and stretched out his hand which his father took in his own,

 

“Hello Joe.  I’m afraid that fall of yours has left you with some pretty bad injuries, it means you’ll have to stay here a while longer until the doctors happy enough about your leaving for home.   Fact is, Joe, people don’t usually just get up and walk away from having the kind of accident you had.”

 

“Oh,” he glanced at the arm in its splint and then at his father, “My arm?”

 

“No, I mean, yes, your arm needed sorting out, you broke it, the doctor said it was a good clean break and should mean well enough.”

 

“My head?” and he gave a whimsical smile which his father returned with a smile of his own,

 

“No, Dr Duncan confirmed what Paul has been telling us for years, you’ve a good thick skull.”

 

“That’s good,” and he raised a hand to thrust his fingers through his mane of dark hair, “My legs?”

 

“Your pelvis to be exact.”

 

“Oh, I see.” he didn’t of course, he vaguely knew where the pelvis was to be located because that was why he wore extra wide belts when bronco busting.  He screwed up his eyes and tried to think it out for himself and then after a while he opened them, sighed and looked at his father again, “Will I be able to walk?”

 

“Not immediately,” Ben stalled, and stroked his chin thoughtfully as he tried to think of the right words to use, “It may not be for a few weeks.”

 

“Oh.”  Joe released his breath and looked relieved, he gave a rather lop sided grin and then looked at his father “Good thing we never threw that old wheelchair away that Adam had to use when he hurt his back.    That seems a long  long time ago now, doesn’t it, Pa?”

 

“When Adam  was in the wheel chair?  Yes, I guess so.” Ben smiled, he didn’t like to say that the older one got the faster time seemed to move and to him it seemed hardly any time at all.

 

“I wonder how they are now - Laura and Peggy, I guess she’d be a young lady now.  I - I won’t be in the wheel chair for very long, will I, Pa?”

 

“It depends on how quickly everything knits together, son.” and Ben placed a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder and frowned, “You can’t rush these things, Joe.   Once you’re home we’ll get Paul to check you over.”

 

“Yeah, that’s good, Pa, that’s real fine.”  Joe turned his face away,  closed his eyes and struggled to keep panic at bay.  

 

He could remember only too well the frustration Adam experienced at being confined in that wheel chair and he was a man who enjoyed reading and writing.  Joe knew that getting to read through one book a year was just about his limit, and as for writing … he screwed his eyes tight and struggled to stop his brain from working over time on the matter of being a cripple.

 

……………………..

 

Night had fallen around them, and once again they were treated to the spectacular display of the aurora borealis.   There were more greens in the patterns this particular evening and a low hum that trickled like music as the colours ebbed and flowed about them. 

 

“Truly spectacular, isn’t it, sir?” Gibbs murmured, “I recall seeing it once before when I was working for the Western Union.”

 

Adam turned his eyes away from the colourful phenomena overhead and viewed Gibbs thoughtfully,

 

“You’ve been here before?”

 

“Not here exactly, sir.   It was when the Western Union was constructing the electric telegraph line up from California.   It ran up the coast of North America right across the Bering Strait to Moscow where it joined with the European telegraph network.”

 

“I remember reading something about it -” Adam said thoughtfully, “So you worked as far as Moscow then?”

 

“No, no,  sir, only as far as the Bering Strait.   I was here for a few days only before going on back to California.”

 

Adam nodded and after a few moments turned away from the ships railings and took the steps down to the lower deck.   Some of the men were lounging around, leaning against the ships rails to watch the heavenly sight and exclaiming now and again.  It occurred to him how little he knew his men, their lives, their pasts.  He exhaled, and his breath was a fine mist that hung in the air before dissipating away. 

 

He hurried towards his cabin, shrugging out of his heavy coat as he did so.    He could remember discussing the project of the electric telegraph line with Ben, oh it seemed so long ago now.   The U.S. had invested $3 million for the Russian American telegraph expedition when work ceased with the completion of the competing Transatlantic telegraph cable.   William Seward had gone to negotiate with the Russian Ambassador  to fund the remaining phases of the telegraph line and that was when the whole matter of the sale and purchase of Alaska had been raised.  Everything was purely down to money at the end of the day and Adam flopped down into the comfortable  old chair and stretched out his legs, closed his eyes, and remembered Ben saying in his deep voice

 

“Everything comes down to money in the end.   There’s more than just the purchase of land involved in this, son, you can mark my words.   Seward’s no man’s fool …”

 

Oh, how tired he was, he just wanted to sleep.

 

Chapter 23

 

The sledge keeled sideways and despite their attempts to prevent it from going right over, it did.   Adam and Daniel both managed to haul  themselves at the ropes securing their equipment to stop that shifting but nothing could stop it all ending in the snow, with both men having to throw themselves clear in order not to land ignominiously  in the snow with or without  everything landing on top of them.

 

“Sorry, Captain -” Josef muttered apologetically but Adam shook his head, and placed a gloved hand on the other man’s arm,

 

“There’s nothing wrong with the sledge, Josef, and the runners are fine.  We just didn’t anticipate the unevenness of the ice.”

 

They were all breathing hard.  Josef was puffing like an old man his breath pluming from his mouth and his nose and chin blue from the cold.   Adam signalled that they get the sledge right side up and by hauling on the ropes they managed without anything falling free or loose and the sledge still intact.   Josef ran an eye over the runners and sighed, shook his head and looked about him at the surrounding land.  The island was volcanic in origin, a vast plateau dominated the expanse and the tundra consisted of mainly willow trees none of which seemed able to grow beyond 3 to 4 feet.  Their black skeletal limbs were starkly bare against the white backdrop of ice and snow.  They were also the main reason that the ice was so uneven as the wind blew the snow into pockets against the roots of the trees and smoothed them into  ridges of ice against which the runners of the sled would at times catch and go over to the side.

 

“We could do with some dogs” Adam muttered, walking around the sledge and checking the ropes, “we could balance things out more evenly then between us.”

 

“We’re not going to find much in the way of dogs around here, Captain.” Daniel sighed, his breathing heavy and he adjusted his clothing so that the collar of his thick coat covered the lower part of his face and his hat with the ear flaps protected down to his eyes.   It felt as though there was a band of pure pain across the bridge of his nose and he longed for something hot to drink.

 

“No, not yet.” Adam murmured and smiled to himself as he beckoned them to follow him to where some of the naked trees swayed in the wind.  He squatted down and pointed,   “See that?   Dogs have been here recently, probably two days ago, their urine and excrement have frozen on the surface of the ice and not been covered by anything fresh since.   That means -”

 

“Wolves?”  Josef whispered.

 

“Could be, I don’t know if there are any artic wolves here but it is possible.  I think it’s more likely that they would be domesticated dogs though -”

 

“What makes you think that -”  Lawson asked although intrigued in this man who seemed to have an ability to see more than the normal naval officer was expected to do in his service.

 

“Over there -” Adam pointed  to another area “That’s human excrement.” he grinned, “There’s a difference.”

 

“Oh, yes -” Jack nodded but didn’t bother to look too closely to confirm it for himself.

 

“Let’s move on,  they’ll no doubt find us before we find them …” and Adam pulled up his muffler to protect his face, while his dark eyes lingered on the horizon, scanned it in the way of the frontiersman and then took the lead by pushing the sledge forwards.

 

It had been a hard trek.  A whole day of hauling and pushing and shoving followed by a strange night of uneasy sleep in their tent, huddled together for warmth, for when the snow did not fall and the sun, for what it was, had disappeared and night fell then the cold was more intense than they could have imagined.

 

Adam had made up a fire and boiled snow into hot water which they drank with their mornings rations.   Jack Lawson was regretting the ‘adventure’ long before night fall, and now, this second day, was longing for the return to the ship.   The wore their snow shoes, stepping high and careful where they placed their feet.   Josef with his stocky frame and the stoic attitude of his forebears concentrated on putting one foot down and the other up without falling over.   He kept his mind on the stories of his father,  thinking of the seals and the way they would have been clubbed to death for their skins, their life blood  streaming out red and scarlet upon the white snow.  Not a life he would choose for himself, hence his love of carpentry where the wood was warm beneath his hands.    Daniel pushed alongside his Captian,  pushed the sledge and steadied it as best he could, and all the time wondering what it was that Adam was thinking about this strange journey they were on.

 

When the pale disk that gleamed through the mist indicated it was noon  Adam called a halt and suggested they made camp.  He stood a little away from them while his eyes looked over the horizon,  pass the skittering tree limbs that swayed now like so many skeletons waving their bones at them, daring them to go beyond their boundaries as though beyond lay a land taboo to them.

 

He thought of this woman, Irena, and the papers she held.   He wondered what sort of woman she would be, and whether or not she would refuse to give the papers up to them, or whether they would have to exert some force.   What did he know of her anyway?  A name.  Her gender and that she had married a native of the country.   He bowed his head and wondered just what it was that was so important about the papers.

 

Josef scrapped away snow and ice and carefully made a small fire.   He was walking to the sledge to get some food when he first noticed the clouds, thick, black, and travelling fast.  

 

“Captain -” it was Daniel’s voice, and he was breathless and scared, it showed in his voice for he had seen the clouds and knew what they heralded.   He was hurrying his way towards Adam who had turned at his cry and then he pointed to the sky.

 

There was little they could do to hide from the storm as it unleashed its fury upon that forbidding sorrowful island.   Their only shelter was a clump of thickly entwined willows and the sledge which they manoeuvred as close to the small copse as possible.  Then they waited for it to hit them.  

 

And when it arrived it hit them with a force beyond their imaginations. 

 

Chapter 24

 

They huddled in close together, keeping their heads low and their backs against the screaming wind.   Unable to speak, unable to communicate they could only keep in their positions behind the sled, praying that the wind would not send it toppling onto them and creating an even worse situation.

 

Adam felt totally miserable.  A failure.   The fact that he had been thinking about someone to the extent of not noticing the approaching storm, had not taken the necessary action to get his men into a safer position.   What kind of Officer was he, he groaned within himself, to have been so negligent.   He had had some experience of how weather  could change swiftly with devastating results but he had left his men exposed to the extremes of an arctic storm and if any one of them were to die as a result of his negligence he was not sure what he would do.  

 

Time ticked by with a remorseless relentlessness about it;  slowly and cruelly an hour growled away and the wind hurled itself upon the frozen earth, upon them, battering them with ice and snow as they clung to one another, to life itself.

 

It didn’t seem possible that they could endure further, perhaps as each one felt their senses reeling, their bodies helplessly trapped in their cage of ice, time took on another dimension of its own, and they became aware of the smaller things like the beating of their hearts which were at times so loud as to block out the sounds of the winds;  of their breath, still warm, moist, as they huddled together so close;  of Adam’s voice every so often urging them not to fall asleep.

 

“Can’t stay awake much longer.  I’m so tired,” Jack Lawson whispered and his body beneath the crust of frozen snow sagged slightly forwards.

 

“Stay awake -” Adam whispered back for he no longer had the strength to shout against the winds howls.

 

“No, no, I want to sleep, just a moment, just a moment, please.”

 

“No, Jack,” O’Brien’s voice now, urgent, compelling, “Come now, Jack, why not - why not tell us about yourself.  Tell us about your family, where you’re from … come now,  Jack, speak up, man, we can’t hear you.”

 

“Oh - no - not much to tell.” Jack Lawson pulled his mind back from the brink of oblivion to seeing familiar faces, loved ones smiling at him, speaking to him.  “Mother -” he closed his eyes and her face was there, her lips moving, and her smile was in her eyes, a smile of pride because he had got his commission, and he began to talk, a thin whisper of a voice but he rambled on and when he stopped O’Brien began to recite some poetry,

 

“Here, where the world is quiet,

Here, where all trouble seems

Dead winds’ and spent waves’ riot

In doubtful dreams of dreams;

I watch the green field growing

For reaping folk and sowing,

For harvest time and mowing

A sleepy world of streams.”

 

He paused, his throat dry, his eyes heavy, his voice gave way to a croaking whisper and still the wind blew and buffeted against them

 

“I am tired of tears and laughter,”   Adam continued from his first Officer,

“And men that laugh and weep,

Of what may come hereafter

For men that sow to reap;

I am weary of days and hours,

Blown buds of barren flowers,

Desires and dreams and powers

And everything but sleep.”                          at which point he laughed at the irony of the words and Josef chuckled a hearty laugh which somehow gave each man there a flame of encouragement in their hearts.

 

“I’ll teach you some Russian words” Josef now said, “’Case something happens to me you’ll need to know some things -”

 

So it went on, each man speaking when another stopped, their bodies slipping lower to the earth, beaten down by the blows of nature at its most cruel.   When their bodies were so numb they couldn’t feel the blows upon them, when their lips were so dry and cracked and their eyes so heavy that one by one the voices faded away.  Only their soft breath each upon their neighbour’s face comforted them with the knowledge that they still lived and their neighbour also.

 

For a while they lay together in a huddled mass of bodies, arms and legs beneath their canopy of ice and snow unaware that the wind had ceased, that the sky was blue and an apologetic sun shone upon them.   Josef was first to move, to attempt to break through the snow packed crust and to raise his head.    His eyes, screwed up against the light, watered and the moisture did not freeze upon his face nor in his beard.  There was no sound now, only the silence that is like death itself, so very quiet, so very eerily quiet.

 

He put out an unsteady hand and shook his Captain’s shoulder, and Adam reared up, sending snow and ice scattering and falling back to earth like a thousand small rainbows as the light of the sun caught the crystals like so many prisms.

 

One by one they shook themselves free and like clumsy drunken men rolled and reeled their way from one another, away from the tangle of arms and legs that had meant their lives only moments earlier.

 

Adam picked up a handful of snow in hands so numb within their gloves that the very action seemed to be happening to someone else within his body.  Slowly, robotically, he rubbed it into his face and felt the sting of warmth returning.   Then upon his feet, stamping, jumping up and down,  thumping his arms about his body and forcing the life blood to pump warmth and pain through his veins.   Pain was nearly a pleasure reminding him that he was alive, and as his men followed his example he felt the burden of misery lift from him.

 

They had survived after all.   Thank God, thank God.   He could have wept with relief as Jack Lawson’s face began to glow with a healthy ruddiness, and O’Brien began to shout out words from the poem that had gone round and round in his head throughout the hours and Josef had laughed, singing a crazy stupid song in Polish (that later he refused to translate saying it would make even a sailor blush).

 

‘We are not sure of sorrow,

And joy was never sure;

To-day will die to-morrow;

Time stoops to no man’s lure;

And love, grown faint and fretful

With lips but half regretful

Sighs, and with eyes forgetful

Weeps that no loves endure.”

 

O’Brien turned, smiled at him, winked.  Adam nodded, and returned the smile.   If there was any man there like a brother to him now, it was O’Brien.   Who but a brother, in times of distress, would have thought to have recited poetry?  It was something that would never have occurred to Hoss nor Joe and when Jack Lawson let out a mighty “Yoooop” Adam Cartwright, Captain, broke out into a warm deep laugh that was almost heart breaking.

 

Chapter 25

They made a fire as hurriedly as they possibly could, anything to thaw their bones and bring life back to fingers and toes.   Once again the coffee pot was made to boil and they ate on dry crackers washed down with snow until there was water to pour onto the coffee grounds.   

 

Adam looked at his men and wondered how much further they would need to go,  for they were exhausted.  O’Brien’s left cheek was raw as though he had fallen and grazed the skin but that was due to the exposure of the wind, Josef’s beard had ice sparkling in it from where his breath had frozen and the skin around his eyes was puffed up from cold and weariness, and Jack kept shivering so hard that it was obvious the cold had got down deep into his inward parts.

 

Adam poured out the coffee into the cups and was about to hand them to each man there when the sound of dogs came clearly through the air towards them.  They looked at one another incredulously, as though not believing their own ears but seeking assurance from the surprise they could see on their companions’ faces.  They turned to face the sound and were struck to the spot as, coming towards them, were several teams of dogs and on the sledges were men dressed in sealskin clothing fringed with the fur of rabbits, heavy fur lined hoods covered their heads and faces and on their feet they wore heavy mukluks.

 

The lead team stopped just a foot from  them and the man dug in the brake, stepped from the runners and walked towards them.   One by one the other teams stopped, and the men waited, their faces turned to see the result of this confrontation.

 

From the beginning of the journey Adam had resented being sent to a land about which he knew so little.  The people of the land he knew even less about, and now he felt at a very distinct disadvantage.    Perhaps the other man felt the same way, but this was his land and they were the intruders, that gave him, to some extent, the Ace hand.

 

He swept back his hood and looked at the four white men with his black eyes examining each one of them carefully, then he turned to Josef and began to speak such a gabble of words that Josef was left floundering.   He could only spread out his hands and sign that he didn’t speak their language, and when the man stopped with a doubtful expression on his dark face Josef addressed him in the Russian dialect of his father.

 

Now the other mans face took on the look of intelligence, of understanding and comprehension.   He nodded several times, and spoke rather hesitantly in Russian but so crude a dialect that Josef had to concentrate to understand what was being said.   He then turned to Adam,

 

“He thinks I am the leader because I am the old man and in their culture respect goes to the old men first.”  he explained and Adam nodded, and looked over at the newcomer with a smile, “He comes from the village a few miles ahead, and he wants to welcome us to his home.    He offers us his dogs to help us get there safely.”

 

“Did you tell him who we were?”

 

“I told him we were not Russian but American.”

 

“And what did he say to that -”

 

“Well,  kinda that he won’t hold it against us and we were still welcome,” Josef said with a grin.

 

The newcomer was telling his companions that they were to share out the dogs, and they immediately  got down from the running boards  of their sledges and began to unclip pairs of dogs so that eventually there was a full team being harnessed onto the  ships’ sled.   The Yu’pik said something to Josef, shaking his head and gesturing expansively as though that would help them to understand what was happening and Josef nodded and said “Da, da, da,” several times before turning to Adam with a shrug

 

“He says that the dogs are not in the proper arrangement so don’t be surprised if we don’t keep up with them.”

 

“What does that mean?” Jack asked, having left the fire to O’Brien to quell with snow.

 

“Dogs have their own places in a team, like horses on a stagecoach,” Adam replied, “there’s always a leader to the team, and those that pull one way and those that pull another way.   With them being mixed like this there could be  a wrangle between them to prove which one is boss …”

 

“Huh, a bit like human beings then,”  Jack grinned.

 

“A bit.”  Adam smiled and then turned to O’Brien, “Well, it looks like we’re on our way, Daniel.   Perhaps this is where we meet Irena.”

 

Daniel O’Brien nodded, and watched the Eskimos as they returned to their own sledges, their dogs immediately on their feet jumping up with the excitement of setting off once again.   Several teams did so,  the runners of the sledges spitting up the ice as they sped on.

 

“Do you think we can trust them, sir?”  O’Brien asked.

 

“We have no choice but to do so,” Adam replied,  “At least we’ll have the chance to get warm,  and may be see our assignment concluded.”

 

“We have to get home afterwards don’t forget,” O’Brien grinned and Adam gave a chuckle, slapped him warmly on the arm,

 

“Oh, yes, of course, but there is one consolation, Daniel, it is spring.”

 

………………

 

The village consisted of half a dozen low buildings, although not buildings in the manner Jack and Josef would have expected to see.  Perhaps Adam was surprised  at the similarity of the Eskimo homes to the wickiups he had seen some American Indians live in.  These though were covered with the skins of seals and of sod, and were low to the ground so that the winds when they blew would go over them.

 

The dogs were unharnessed and meat thrown onto the ground where each was tethered.   Then their guide turned to them and spoke in his rough Russian. A dialect of Siberian Yu’pik, he gestured to them to follow him.

 

The interior of the dwelling was large, much larger than they had anticipated and extremely snug and warm.   A woman turned to look at them, her eyes widened with a mixture of fear and alarm,  and there was a quick interchange of words between her and the man who was casting off his outer clothing as he spoke.   The four Americans stood together, savouring the heat, and waiting for some indication as to what to do next.

 

The woman was obviously mollified somewhat and went to prepare food,  two children - dark eyed and snotty nosed - peered around some reed screens to peer at them and giggled together before disappearing from view.  Their host gestured that they remove their outer clothes and sit down, they were to eat, to be comfortable.

 

He was a short man, it seemed that in stature most Yu’pik Eskimos were shorter than their American cousins, although there was a similarity in colouring and looks.   His black hair hung around his face in greasy locks, and his teeth, when he smiled proved to be mostly black and  worn down almost to the gums.

 

The warmth of the fire soon had its effect upon them, the discomfort of frozen limbs slowly defrosting was painful but reassuring.  No one was going to suffer the after effects of their ordeal which could have been frost bite, gangrene, lost limbs, fingers or toes.   

 

“Ask him his name, about his family, about the village.” Adam urged Josef, “Ask him if this is Savoonga?”

 

“Savoonga?” their host turned as he recognised the word and he shook his head, explaining to Josef  that it was still a day’s journey away. 

 

They sat cross legged by the fire, ate the food - some of which was most unpleasant - laughed at Josef who bit too eagerly into some whale blubber and had fat and grease splurting in every direction, down his face, into his beard. 

 

“I’ve told Yumit that you are our leader.  We are American from a big ship but he knows that as he saw us as we crossed close to the point.  He says that the Russians who were here before left some time ago, and had told them that Americans would come.   They were told we would treat them badly.”

 

“What did you say to that?”

 

“I didn’t have to say anything to that, the Russians treated them badly enough.”  and he shook his head and muttered beneath his breath, “Mind you, I know it happens in our country too,  I’m not stupid nor blind to what’s happening to the Cheyenne and Souix.”

 

Adam nodded thoughtfully and looked over at Yumit and his wife, who both smiled at him.   She said something to her husband and they both began to laugh, Yumit leaned forward to tell Josef that his wife rather liked the look of their Captain which was said with guffaws of laughter and much nodding of heads.

 

Josef didn’t pass on that piece of information.

 

“Ask them if they know anything about the Russian woman, Irena.”

 

Josef did so, and the laughter stopped.   Yumit shook his head and his wife got up, taking with her some of the utensils from the table.   After a flurry of Russian Josef turned to Adam and shrugged,

 

“He says it is best for us to sleep now.  After the storm and the cold we must be tired.  We shall speak more in the morning.”

 

Adam glanced over at his host and wondered if it were fear he saw in the dark eyes or just curiosity.   But he knew there was little point in pressing further for information,  each one of them was exhausted and sleep, blessed sleep, was long overdue. 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

The far off barking of dogs was in his dreams, or at least he thought it was in his dreams.   From being so cold he was now too hot, and as  he forced his eyes open  and pushed aside the covers he realised that he was still hearing the dogs barking.  Momentarily he felt transported back in time to when he had been in a Cheyenne village and when the dogs barked, men hurried for their bows and lances, women hurried to protect their children.

 

His head was heavy, and he felt drunk with the effects of the warmth and the depth of his sleep.  Still the dogs barked and now he was wide awake, pulling his gun from its holster and hurrying to the entrance of the lodging house. 

 

The sound of the dogs was receding and along with it the smooth hiss of the runners of a sledge.  His senses now on full alert he returned to where the men were sleeping and leaned forward to shake Daniels shoulder.

 

“O’Brien - wake up.”

 

Then to Josef who was snoring and smacking his lips in his sleep, a contented smile on his whiskery face.    He shook the man’s shoulder,

 

“Wake up, Rostov”

 

Another shake of the shoulder and the man stirred, rubbed his face and looked up at his Captain with bleary blood shot eyes.   O’Brien was already on his feet and fumbling to put on his clothes.

 

“Where’s Lawson?”  he asked, his mouth dry and the words coming with some difficulty.

 

“He’s already gone.”

 

“Gone where,” Daniel’s eyes fell upon the revolver still in Adam’s hand and he raised his eyebrows, “What do you mean - he’s gone?”

 

“I don‘t know, I could hazard a guess,” Adam replied as  he returned to where he had slept and pulled on his thick roll neck sweater and then his boots.   “We were warned, Daniel, that we would be carrying a traitor along with us on this journey.  One maybe two.”

 

“I ain’t no traitor,” Rostov immediately protested, his head halfway through the opening of his sweater, “I owe America too much.”

 

“It’s going to take some time to get another team of dogs organised, and a guide.  Josef - we shall have to leave that to you.”

 

“What about Yumit, won’t he take us?”  Daniel asked as he stumbled in getting his boots on.

 

“He’s already gone,  with Lawson.”   Adam replied quietly, and slipped his gun back into the holster. 

 

“But Lawson doesn’t speak Russian, and Yumit -”  Daniel paused, and shook his head, “Did you know it was Lawson?”

 

“Yes, and I knew he spoke Russian, and I should have realised that he would have tried to reach Irena before us.   I’m afraid I was just so tired -”  he stopped speaking as the woman appeared, her face working anxiously and wringing her hands, all the signs of a woman who was plainly scared and confused.

 

“Ask her what’s wrong, where’s her husband and where have they gone?” Adam told Rostov,  who addressed the woman in a gentle tone of voice, patting her arm reassuringly and nodding his head at her.  There then followed a long stream of babble accompanied by tears and the wringing of hands to a greater extent.  Rostov listened, patted her gently on the shoulder and spoke again.  With a nod of her head she turned and hurried from the sleeping quarters of her guests.

 

“She said the man spoke to her husband and told him to take him from here.   Yumit is afraid of the Russians, his parents were shot down by them when he was a small boy and he had never got over his fear of them.     She is going to prepare us some food and drink now, and while we eat she is going to get a team organised for us.”

 

“And a guide?” Daniel asked.

 

“Yes, and a guide.” Rostov nodded and turned back to complete his dressing.

 

Daniel went to Adam’s side and looked down at the ground, then at Adam,

 

“Why didn’t you leave him on board and bring someone else on this trip.  He could have killed us anytime he chose.”

 

“He didn’t though, did he?”  Adam replied with a slight smile and a raised eyebrow as though finding his friend’s concern rather amusing, “Jack Lawson isn’t a traitor in the real sense of the word, in his mind he’s doing his country a favour and saving us from  the errors of our ways.” he shrugged and picked up his great coat which he shrugged himself into and started to button up, “It’s the people who have him on their pay roll who are the traitors.”

 

“Alright, may be so, but it means he’ll get to Irena and he’ll get the papers.  Then what will he do with them?”

 

“I don’t know, Daniel.   Our orders were to bring her to America, with the papers.   I don‘t think Jack will harm her, but -” he paused when the woman returned and beckoned them to where the food was prepared for them.

 

Daniel picked up the remains of his clothing and followed Rostov and Adam to where they were to sit and eat.    He felt a niggle of irritation at the way Adam was treating the situation, he had expected more urgency, a haste to catch up with the traitor, for as far as he was concerned Jack Lawson had crossed the line and no amount of excuses offered by Adam would make him change his mind  about Lawson now.    He watched his Captain carefully, waited to see some glimpse of panic, of worry and concern, a need for haste, but Adam ate his breakfast carefully, drank the strange concoction of milk and whatever else, and nodded and smiled at the woman who in her concern was going out of her way to be hospitable.

 

“She says the dogs are harnessed and ready to go.  She has only to get ready.” Josef said and he leaned forward and said in a low voice, “She’s a strong little woman, no problem with her, she could manage a dog team probably better than her husband.”

 

Adam nodded and glanced at Daniel who was already on his feet.   By the time the woman was ready the three men were already outside standing by their sledge that was harnessed to a good team of dogs.

 

She spoke quickly to another woman who had appeared from an adjoining dwelling, and then walked towards them and spoke to Josef, as she spoke there came the swishing sounds of sledge runners across the snow and another team of dogs appeared pulling a low sledge which stopped alongside them.    A torrent of words was exchanged between the woman and the other Yu’pik,  and then she turned to Josef and after speaking to him he approached Adam who was standing and surveying everything with a frown on his brow

 

“She says it would be too slow for  men to walk, she has arranged for this man to take two of us on the sledge.  It will be faster.  You see,” he said admiringly, “Not only is she strong, but she is intelligent too.”

 

“Isn’t she afraid of trouble from her husband?” Daniel asked looking at the two people anxiously.

 

“She said her husband had broken the rules of hospitality and she has to make it good for him and her people to make sure we are cared for -”  Josef looked at them both and smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.

 

Adam merely shrugged, looked up at the blue sky and then at Daniel.

 

“Well, then, O’Brien, get yourself comfortable, you’re holding us up.” he smiled and gave Daniel a slight push towards the sledge.

 

It took little time for them to get into position.  Daniel on the sledge and Adam on the running board with the other man, while Josef shared the running board with the woman on the sledge with the ships equipment.   After the initial baying and barking from sheer exuberance and excitement the dogs soon quietened down to give their all to pulling the sledges over the snow laden ice.             

 

They travelled in this manner for some time, covering the miles at a good speed but always aware that the other men had a good head start.   It frustrated Daniel and mentally he found himself urging the dogs to pull faster,  to do anything possible to catch up with Lawson and to prevent him getting the papers from Irena Pestchouroff .

 

“There - over there”  Rostov’s voice carried over the distance between them, and they followed his outstretched hand to see a small black speck far ahead of them, moving at a steady pace but not so far ahead as they had estimated him to have been.

 

Now the  woman and the other Inuit urged the dogs on,  so that their tongues lolled from their mouths and slaver splattered their coats.   Daniel found himself leaning forwards in the passenger seat, as though he too were pulling the sledge along and getting it to move closer to their fleeing opponent.  

 

The sledges were hurtling through the snow now,  and the cold air stung their faces, made their eyes water and their lips go dry.  They buried their faces as far as they could into their mufflers and collars in order to protect themselves, while Josef and Adam’s legs were shaking with the nervous exhaustion of standing on the runners for so long,  an exercise to which they were not accustomed,  and which both men feared would see them soon toppling  rather humiliatingly into the snow.

 

The dogs were labouring beneath their exertions and ahead of them the other team of dogs were obviously also feeling the strain as the gap between them lessened.   Daniel was at the point where the tension was becoming too much, his hands were clenching and unclenching, and beneath his breath he was urging the dogs on, faster and faster.

 

Adam watched the other sledge with some anxiety.   Throughout the days since he had received that little private letter denouncing the one who would betray them it had weighed heavily upon him that the young man, with so much promise ahead of him, would do something foolish.   He had hoped beyond hope that somehow Jack Lawson would grow to respect and even like himself, and his fellow Officers and crew enough to reconsider the situation into which he had pledged himself.   But like all things of the human heart, a seed has to grow to fruition, good or bad, before it can be plucked out, to be nurtured or destroyed.

 

Now the distances grew narrower than ever and Adam slowly  took the revolver from his holster, and held it ready in his  hand.   His legs ached, they were shaking and he wondered if, possibly, he would fall flat on his face were he to let go of the sledge and step from the running board.   His eyes were fixed on Jack Lawson who had glanced now behind him and seen how close, too close, they actually were now.  

 

Adam saw the young mans face tighten with confusion and he could read the thoughts running through Lawson’s mind … what was he to do now?  Continue on?   Stop and plead for his life?  Fall on the mercy and compassion of a sensitive and kindly Captain?  

 

Fear can prompt the most capable and most sensible to foolish actions and Adam could read that in the way the shoulders slumped and the head bowed.  He had seen it before, in saloons ,  on the dusty main streets of towns back west where it seemed in his memory to be always warm.   He raised his gun arm and fired … 

 

Chapter 27

 

The warning shot did what Adam had hoped it would … it put the fear of death in the Inuit who saw flashing before his eyes the events leading to his parents murder by the Russians years previously.   As Lawson struggled to force the Inuit to remain on the sledge Yumit slammed down the brakes and brought the dogs to a halt.  

 

“Move on, move on -” Jack yelled, “Don’t you realise they’ll kill us both if we don’t move from here.  For heavens’ sake, move the dogs.”

 

The only thing Yumit felt inclined to move was himself, for he flung himself from the running board and with his hands high in what must be a universal sign of surrender he ran towards the oncoming sledges. 

 

“You coward, you snivelling coward” Jack cried as he watched the other man hurrying from him.

 

Now faced with a dilemma Jack pulled out his revolver, took aim and fired.  Even as the bullet winged its way towards Yumit another gun fired, and this time, no warning shot, for the bullet found its mark and struck Jack in the shoulder.  

 

Yumit had fallen to the snow,  and it was in the direction of her husband that the sledge was directed, whereas Adam urged his driver onwards towards Jack who was struggling  to straighten up, to get some strength and not to collapse but to somehow take the leads and get the dogs moving once again.

 

He had sagged to  his knees by the time Adam’s sledge had drawn up close behind him.  He turned his face towards his Captain and raised a gloved hand, bloodied though it was, towards Adam in a plea for mercy.   He was about to speak when a body flung itself upon him, and together crashed into the snow.

 

Daniel O’Brien was in no way going to allow Jack Lawson to get away without knowing just how he felt about him, about what he had done.   For O’Brien this was the ultimate betrayal, not just of Government orders, but about loyalty to friends, to fellow Officers, and to the Captain.   He had succeeded in landing several punches, and taken the brunt of some himself, when Adam’s hands grabbed him from the back and with the help of the Inuit hauled him away from Lawson, physically dragging him back from the man and with one hand on his chest Adam turned to look into the angry face of his friend,

 

“Enough now, Daniel.  The man’s hurt, we don’t want to kill him now, do we?”

 

“Don’t we?” Daniel gasped, rasping for breath, and wiping blood from his nose, “I’d like to -”  he lunged forwards, ready to push Adam’s arm aside, but Adam held him back and shook his head,

 

“No.  We don’t.  There are things he knows that we have to find out, and a corpse will tell us nothing.” 

 

Adam waited, saw sense dawn in Daniels eyes and then smiled knowingly, nodded and released him.  Then with a sigh Adam turned to confront Jack Lawson who was holding his shoulder and was in obvious pain.   There was a bruise and swelling under the left eye where one of Daniel’s blows had landed heavily.   He walked towards the man who was coward enough to attempt to scramble backwards in the snow from him, as though with enough distance between them there would be no need for  any talking.

 

“Well, Jack, this is a bad business.” Adam said in a voice that was deeper than usual, but the words were clipped, brusque and Jack Lawson knew that had Adam wished to do so, the bullet in his shoulder could have been the bullet that would have killed him.

 

“You don’t understand -”  Jack muttered, and shook his head, “You don’t - you won’t - understand.”

 

“We’ll talk about this later.   At the moment, Jack, you’re under arrest for treason.  You do understand that, don’t you?”

 

“No, it’s not treason.  I told you -”

 

“I know.  I won’t understand.” Adam said coldly and walked away in haughty disgust.

 

Yumit was sitting up, bewildered and confused, listening to his wife who, with tears, was stroking his face.   Josef smiled and shook his head,

 

“The bullet winged his leg.   He’ll be okay.  Probably suffered worse if a dog had bitten him.” he nodded his head over towards Jack Lawson who was now burying his head in his hands, blood staining his clothes from his wound.  “How’s he?  Said anything yet?”

 

“No.   We’ll talk with him at a better time.”  

 

“I’d best go and see to his wound, we wouldn’t want him bleeding to death, would we?” and he crooked an eyebrow.

 

Adam raised both his, and glanced over his shoulder at  the wounded man,

 

“He won’t bleed to death here, it’s too cold.   But check him over if you feel you must.”

 

He felt a touch of regret saying such dismissive words, but he had never found it easy to understand the betrayal of friends.   There had been so many in the past to whom he had shown loyal friendship, and who had abused that trust.   He walked back to Daniel who had stopped swabbing up his nose,  and was glaring resentfully at Lawson who was being attended to now by Josef.

 

“We need to get on,  before it gets too dark to continue.     I think Yumit will be able to continue on, you’ll have to go with him.   Lawson will take your place on my sledge.”

 

“But -” Daniel’s eyes widened, looked into the grim features of the other man and then, with a sag to the shoulders, nodded, “Yes, of course, Captain.”

 

He went to walk away and then paused, looked at Adam again,

 

“If  it had come to it, would you have killed him?”  he asked and Adam’s lips thinned slightly,  and the dark eyes hardened,

 

“Yes, had it been necessary.” he replied and then turned away, back to Yumit and his wife, and the Inuit who was standing beside them looking bewildered and confused about him.

 

…………….

 

The journey was less frenzied now and the pace better and smoother.   The dogs seemed to be enjoying the pace and Adam was more able to think about the situation and how things had revealed themselves.   The letter had indicated that there could possibly be more than one man who had sailed on board the Ainola.  The writer had been able to name only one, Jack Lawson.   It was even possible that he was the only one aboard ship.

 

As they journeyed more towards the  northern shoreline where the village was located, Adam wondered once again why the Government had chosen him to be reinstalled as an officer on board the Ainola for this particular assignment.  There were many men equally as capable, and Adam was modest enough to think, even more capable of fulfilling the requirements of the assignment.  

 

The runners of the sledge provided a soothing  swish against the snow, and the sky was blue.   Josef had told him that the woman had informed him that the last storm of winter had passed now.  It really was spring time.

 

They reached the village before night fall.   The sledges came to a halt in front of a large dwelling that fronted a large open space.   Yumit, with Josef and his wife by his side entered as was the custom of the Yu’pik.   In less than five minutes Josef was back outside and striding towards his Captain

 

“This is Irena Pestchouroff’s place but she ain’t here.   She left three days ago.”

 

“Did she know we were coming?”

 

“No, Captain.  It had nothing to do with us.    Her daughter’s inside, said we were welcome and could spend the night here.   It would only take a few hours to reach the settlement tomorrow.”

 

Adam’s lips tightened, always so near and yet so far.  He nodded, and watched Josef re-enter the dwelling.   Then he turned to Jack Lawson and grabbed at his coat, and hauled him out of the sledge despite the man’s pathetic groans of pain.

 

“Right,  let’s go inside and thaw out.” he said quietly, “And if you think you’re in pain now, Jack, when you thaw out … you’ll know what pain is all about.”

 

“Please, Captain, I - you’ve got to let - you don’t -”

 

“I know, I don’t understand.” and with another yank at the coat he had hauled the man onto his feet, “Let’s walk.” he said quietly, and pushed Jack towards the entrance that had opened up to receive them.   

 

Chapter 28

 

The Russian influence within the Inuit dwelling was obvious as soon as they stepped into the large living area.  The icon in the alcove, richly ornate, with the oil burning in a red and gold container, the drapings that were unusually extravagant, the ornaments that could only have come from the more sophisticated cities of Russia - and then there was Valentina, the daughter of Irena Pestchouroff and her Siberian Yupik husband.   The sallow skin tones, the high cheek bones and the black eyes were all indicative of her Eskimo paternity, but the long lean and slim figure were certainly not, nor the finer softer hair which had tones of auburn mingling with the dark brown locks.

 

She welcomed them all into the large room,  Yumik, his wife and the other Inuit driver along with the four Americans whom she observed one by one as they entered with some  obvious trepidation.   When she spoke it was in the Siberian Russian dialect and Josef immediately answered.   She nodded and then looked directly at Adam,

 

“There are wounded men here,” she said in heavily accented English, “While the food cooks I shall see to their wounds.”

 

“I’m obliged, ma’am,” Adam inclined his head, at the same time removing his outer layers of clothing for the room struck them all as unusually warm after the rigours of the cold.

 

“I am Valentina, and my mother is Irena Pestchouroff.   My father died not long ago so I am here only to provide you with hospitality.”  she sighed then, heavily, and cast down her eyes before approaching Yumik, who was now talking very hurriedly to her in their own tongue, and gesturing towards Jack and then pointing to his leg,  “Oh, he says that man there shot at him with a gun.”

 

“He did,” Adam replied, again with a nod of the head.

 

“You did nothing to stop him?”

 

“That’s why he’s wounded, Ma’am - er - Miss Valentina.”

 

“Oh, I understand -” she nodded but the look on her face indicated she did not understand at all.   “Please to sit down.  Pititaq, look after your husband …”  she gestured to the woman who now hurried to attend to her husband’s flesh wound which, as Josef had said earlier, could just have easily been done by a dog.

 

Lawson was biting hard on his lip to stop from groaning aloud.  Pride forced him not to give in the pain that was now beginning to  throb through his body from the bullet in his shoulder.   When Valentina returned with a bowl and cloths Adam wondered whether she realised she was going to have to extract a bullet so he got to his feet and approached Jack, 

 

“Alright now, let’s see what the damage is -” he said reassuringly and began to peel away the man’s clothing which brought groans of protest from Lawson as his sweater pulled at his arm, and then the shirt had to be cut away from the injury, “Well now,” Adam lowered his head and examined the wound, “Aren’t you the lucky one, the bullet passed right through, clean as a whistle.  Looks  like you have a charmed life, Jack.” and he smiled at the hapless man who was now doubled over, cradling his injured arm in his lap and rocking back and forth in pain.  “Mmm, doesn’t look like you’re used to getting wounds of this kind, are you?  A soft, gentle kind of life you’ve led, huh?”

 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not just as much a man as you are -” Jack growled from deep in his throat.

 

Adam said nothing to that but stepped aside for Valentina to clean out the wound and dress it with padding and bandages.  Pititaq came and took the bloodied water away along with the soiled cloth.   Valentina nodded eventually, satisfied with her work and looked at Adam,   

 

“It is not a bad wound.  I have tended to men with wounds far worse, not gun wounds, but with harpoons”  she smiled then, and quickly left the room.

 

“Was that meant to be reassuring,?” Daniel asked with a twist of the lips that resembled some kind of smile.

 

“Well, just shows how fortunate our friend here is -” Josef muttered and scowled at Jack beneath his brows.  “You should be tied up and thrown to the dogs” he hissed in the man’s face, “You good for nothing scum.”

 

“That’s enough -” Adam brought his hand upon Josef’s shoulder and gently pulled him away from Jack and pointed to a place where Josef could sit at some distance from  Lawson.  “What’s done is done.   I’m sure that Jack will help us as best he can -”

 

“You can go and whistle,” Jack growled, “I ain’t gonna tell you nothing.”

 

“Although if he insists that he isn’t going to tell us anything then we shall have to reconsider our options.”  Adam frowned and sat down, clasped his hands between his legs and leaned towards the other two men, “Is this place anything like you expected it to be?”  he asked, looking at them both with a pleasant smile on his face, and his brown eyes twinkled.

 

“I thought there would be those ice buildings - igloo’s” Daniel frowned, “But there don’t seem to be any about here.”

 

Adam glanced over his shoulder, Jack was still rocking too and fro, nursing his arm and trying to quell the pain by the repetitive movement while Yumik and his friend were deep in conversation and from the black looks they were casting towards Jack it was not difficult to guess just who was the subject of their discussion.

 

“I  wonder why Irena isn’t here,” Adam mused, “If she was warned about our coming.” he paused as the women returned to place food on the low tables.  In a very short time they were eating food,  which Valentina identified as uqalik (artic hare) and iquluk (trout).  They ate using their fingers, wiping the grease onto the bread which was coarse and dry.  

 

“Valentina,” Adam licked his fingers not sure whether the enjoyment of it was because he had been so hungry or whether it was due to the food being extremely well cooked  “Where is your mother?  Did she expect us to come?”

 

“There is talk of a big ship at the nuvuk (headland) and not Russian.”

 

“So she left to avoid us?”

 

“No,”  the young woman shook her head, and her voice was low, “My mother left because she was needed elsewhere.   She is shaman - how you say it?  - doctor.”

 

“I see, she has gone to help someone who is sick?”

 

“Da,” Valentina nodded, bowed her head and nodded again, “Da -is right.”

 

For some moments there was silence as they concluded their meal.  Jack, out of the companionable circle, ate slowly, staring at his Captain’s back as though there was no one on earth he hated more than him.

 

Conversation dwindled, the transition from intense cold to the warmth of the room induced a deep sleepiness and with a quaint politeness that seemed part of her nature Valentina indicated that it was now the time for sleeping.   Yumik and Pititaq withdrew along with their companion. 

 

“What shall we do with him?” Josef jerked his thumb in the direction of Jack who had fallen into sleep, exhausted by loss of blood and pain.

 

“Don’t worry about him,” Adam said, “He’s my concern, not yours.”

 

“You  need to watch him, Capn, he can’t be trusted.” and Josef cast a dark look over at Jack and then a nod to Daniel, who nodded in return.  It was clear where there sentiments lay.

 

Jack Lawson waited for the right time, he carefully, slowly sat up, glanced around him at the shadows, listened intently for some time to the sound of the sleepers and the melody of so many different snores.   He rose to his feet and reached for his clothing, and began to hurry towards the exit from the room, only to suddenly find himself flat on his face.  In puzzled amazement he turned, twisted himself into a sitting position and looked at the rope tied to his ankle

 

“Sorry, Jack.” Adam said softly, approaching him from where he had been sleeping with the other end of the rope in his hand, “It looks like you’ve no place to go -”

 

Jack shook his head, stared at the rope that had been tied to Adam’s wrist, and at the other end which was secured to his ankle, he leaned forward as though to untie it, to free himself, but Adam’s fingers tightened around his wrist like a vice,

 

“Don’t, Jack, don’t make it any worse for yourself than it is.” he hissed.

 

Minutes later Jack was back where he had been but now with his wrists tied behind his back, and his ankles tied together.  The pain from his wound was agony and the sound of the sleepers around him the worse agony of all.

 

 

Chapter 29

 

“Hello, Joseph.”

 

He had drifted into sleep.   The journey had taken a little longer than usual due to the care they had taken not to cause him too much discomfort so once he had been put to his bed by Hoss, Joseph had slipped into a deep sleep.   Now he sighed deeply, and opened his eyes to look into the anxious eyes and warm smile of Barbara Scott.

 

“Welcome home.” she smiled, her eyes twinkled whether with pleasure at seeing him or from the tears that she was vainly struggling to suppress at his condition only she would have known.

 

“Hi Barbara,” his mouth was dry and the words seemed husky, only he knew that was due to the joy of being home again and the misery of knowing  that she was aware of his disabilities.  “Bad news travels fast, I guess.”

 

She smiled again and turned away towards the window so that she had the chance to wipe a stray tear from her cheeks and pull open the curtain,  she opened the window and the fresh sweet smell of spring drifted in upon the breeze along with the sunshine.

 

“There, that’s better,” she raised her face to the sun and closed her eyes to feel its warmth upon her skin and smiled, “It’s so good to feel the sun like this, Joe.”

 

“I guess so,” Joe replied in the shadow of the room on his bed.

 

“I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me,” she turned and looked anxiously over at him, then walked back to the bed and sat down on the chair by his side.  “I guess we’ve all got a lot to get accustomed to here, Joe.  You will have to be patient with us.”

 

“Sure, I’ll be patient with you,” Joe said, forcing the words through his teeth and he raised his eyes to look up at the ceiling.

 

Patient with them, patient with myself, patient with the way time will drag by each day and patient with the changes that will have to be made to ‘accommodate’ him.  He gulped, cleared his throat, and glanced over at Barbara who was sitting mutely by his bedside.

 

“Have you heard anything from Adam?”

 

“No, nothing.”

 

“Any idea where he is?”

 

“No, not at all.” 

 

“That must be difficult for you, not knowing I mean.”  he sighed and closed his eyes. “I wonder where he is now.”

 

“Oh, probably having a wonderful time.  He loves the Ponderosa, Joe, and all of you, but he does have a kind of kinship with the sea, doesn’t he?”

 

“Guess that can’t be helped seeing as there’s so much sea water in his veins.  The Stoddards were sea men for generations back so far as | can gather and Pa’s family too,  quite a few went to sea, as well as Pa.”

 

“He told me about the Stoddards and how his grandfather always said while the sea was calling your name you couldn’t resist - rather like the sirens who lured men to their deaths by their songs,  so that the ships would be wreaked on the rocks upon which they sat.”  her face looked wistful, she sighed and then looked down at Joe,  forced a smile as though realising that perhaps the subject matter was too morbid for him.  “Ann  Murray asked after you.  So did several other  young ladies in town.”

 

“Oh, well -” Joe frowned and returned his gaze to the survey of the ceiling, “I guess I won’t be going to any dances with them any time soon.”

 

“It may be sooner than you think, Joe.”  she cajoled, “Your father was telling me of the time when Adam fell from the roof of a house he was working on.   He recovered far sooner than the doctors expected.”

 

“That‘s because Adams a granite headed Yankee -” Joe grinned but there was no mirth in his voice, he could remember all too well the anger and frustration Adam had endured during the weeks of his confinement to that wheelchair.  Now,  and only now, Joe could appreciate only too well just how his brother must have felt, the suppressed rage and impotence, the will to do something  to find the physical impossibility to carry that will out, the sheer misery of the imprisonment.  He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

 

Barbara noticed the way Joe’s fists clenched and gripped at the cover upon which he reclined,  she saw the way his lips had thinned and the colour drained from them.  She leaned forward and touched his shoulder gently

 

“Is there anything I can get for you Joe?  Some water to drink?  Are you in pain?”

 

This was what it was going to be like from now on,  Joe told himself.  People coming and asking him if he wanted this, or that, or the other.  Or people giving him things he didn’t want because ‘it would do him good’.  Or people just getting on with their lives and forgetting he was stagnating in a room somewhere else in the house .

 

“No,” he said brusquely, “I don’t want anything.  Is my Pa here?”

 

“Downstairs.  He’s talking to Paul.”

 

Of course.  Paul.  That would be Paul Martin who would want to know everything that had happened and what everyone had said and done before he came up to examine him for himself.  His fingers would prod him and poke at him, and he would be turned over as though he were a slab of meat.   Oh, yes, he could remember it all from the time Adam was hurt,  and he had been there standing by the door  watching and wondering what the doctors fingers were really telling him through the flesh he was prodding.

 

“I hope Adam’s alright,” he said suddenly, the memory of that time suddenly so clear in his mind when his brother’s vulnerability had proved him not to be as invincible as they always assumed.

 

“I’m sure he is just fine.  Adam knows how to take care of himself.” she said without any real conviction in her voice and Joe realised that she was worried too, scared for  his brother, and anxious for himself.

 

But does he know how to take care of himself, Joe wondered.  Adam had made mistakes in the past, been hurt, injured, almost killed by people he cared about,  friends he had made.   What if even now he needed help, who would there be by his side to help him?  

 

He heard the voices now, those of  his father and Paul Martin.    He strained his ears to hear what they were saying while at the same time aware of the rustle of her skirts across the carpeted floor and the subtle smell of her perfume.   He closed his eyes and the thought crossed  his mind that in a few years time he would be 30 years old.  He was no longer a gadabout teenager, nor a charming rogue of a young man, he was nearly 30 years old, still unmarried, and a cripple.   It was enough to make a man weep.

 

The door opened, Barbara excused herself very prettily and then the door closed.  He could sense the footsteps on the floor approaching him and then he opened his eyes and looked over at them.  His father and Paul Martin, both with that look of uncertainty on their faces.  Ben smiled immediately and the dark eyes warmed and dispelled the anxiety and fear from his face, and Paul Martin nodded, looked very serious, and said

 

“Well, young man, let’s take a look at you.”

 

For a moment Joe felt as though he had gone back in time to when it had been Adam to whom those words had been addressed …

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 30

 

The examination was over at last and Joe realised that he had had his jaws so tightly clenched together that all his teeth ached.   Ben and Hoss turned him gently onto his back and covered him over with the sheet while Paul put away his various instruments and pulled a chair up to the bedside.

 

Joe looked hopefully into his father’s face even though he knew Ben would know as little about the results of the examination as himself.   His father mustered up an encouraging smile however and was gratified to see a responding one hovering over his son’s lips.

 

“Well, now, young man, this was just about the craziest stunt you’ve pulled yet.” Paul began, then his features relaxed into a familiar one of warmth, kindness and good humour.  That didn’t tell anyone much either, he wore the same look when delivering both bad and good news.

 

“Bad news or good news first?” he smiled and placed a kindly hand on Joe’s arm.

 

“So long as it isn’t bad news and worse news,” Joe replied trying to be positive although deep in his heart he knew he wasn’t going to find the bad news easy to get on with and the good news … he briefly closed his eyes in preparation for what was to come.

 

“The bad news is that your body needs rest, Joe.  You have to give it time to recover  and to heal.   That will need total bed rest for some weeks and …”

 

“Weeks?” Joe groaned, “Weeks in bed?  How many weeks?”

 

“That will depend on you.   Joe, your body is in trauma right now, it needs time to heal itself.  You will have to exercise self control, self discipline, patience - all of which I know comes hard for you but that is what your body demands.   If you don’t take the time to do this and you let your impatience push you to do too much too soon you could well end up regretting it to the end of your days.”

 

“Is that the bad news over?”

 

“The good news is that you will recover from this.   Given time and proper treatment your body will heal itself.  For a while you need constant bed rest, but that doesn’t mean you have to get despondent about it, you can read (Joe groaned), write (Joe pulled a face) you can have friends come round and spend time with you, but most of all you MUST rest.  Sleep is the best medicine God gave us, Joe, and your body demands a lot of it.”

 

“So, I have to stay in bed for some weeks, alright, how many weeks?”

 

“I don’t know,  if we had some magic way of looking into the body and seeing all it’s component parts laid out in front of us I could tell you, but at present I can’t.  I should be able to tell you that in possibly two weeks time.”

 

“Two weeks time?” Joe groaned and screwed up his face in protest.

 

“If you have healed well enough then you can get downstairs, eventually use the wheelchair and in a few months -”

 

“MONTHS?”

 

“Isn’t that better than my telling you that you’ll be a permanent cripple, Joe?” Paul put a kindly hand on the young man’s shoulder, “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

 

“No, of course not.” Joe sighed, “It just seems that it will take so long.”

 

“If that is what it takes, Joe, then so be it.   Be patient with yourself, do you understand?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Joe murmured and then he looked over at his father and saw the smile on Ben’s face, the relief in the dark eyes and the anxious fearful look that had been etched on his father’s face since Jacksonville was lifted at last.   It was a long way to reassuring Joe that things were going to improve, that all was well.  He turned to Paul with a smile, “Thanks, Doc.”

 

“I’ll see you in two weeks time, Joe.  If you need me before then, send someone to get me.  I shall leave you medication to help you sleep, but my advice is to eat well, sleep often and don’t get despondent.”

 

Joe nodded, shook the proffered hand warmly and glanced over at Hoss who was standing by the window.

 

“Well, Hoss,  what do you think?”

 

“Shucks, Joe, I’m jest thinking of all those chores I’m gonna have to do without you around.  Good thing Candy got here when he did -” Hoss replied with a twinkle in his blue eyes as he approached his brother’s bed.  “You’ll be alright, Joe.”

 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be alright.” Joe replied, forced a smile and turned his head away to look at the two men leaving the room.   The door closed behind them, and he heard Hoss settle into the chair by his bedside, the familiar creak of protest, the sound of his brother crossing one leg over the other.  He sighed, closed his eyes … it was all so familiar and in some way, reassuring.

 

 

Chapter 31

 

Adam was awake for some time before O’Brien and Rostov had stirred.  Making sure that all was quiet among those slumbering he made his way to where Jack Lawson  sat, securely bound .   Valentina had given him some drugs that kept the worse of the pain at bay but the wrong movement would trigger  the sharp pin pricks of agony across his shoulders and down his arm .  He was awake now and watched as Adam approached him.

 

“Here, Jack, drink this, you look as though you could do with something  to ease the pain.”

 

Tentatively Jack accepted the glass with the medication diluted in some water, despite his tied hands he managed to drink it and hand the empty glass to Adam.  Then he leaned against the wall, allowed his head to drop forward and closed his eyes as though in an attempt to shut out the sight of the other man.

 

“Jack, we really need to talk.”

 

“I haven’t anything to say to you.”

 

“Don’t you realise that what you  have done is a court martial offence?  Do you think I want to see you taken and shot as a traitor?”

 

Jack looked at Adam with weary eyes and shook his head, then he sighed,

 

“All I was told was to get the papers, possibly the woman as well.   They chose me to be part of your crew because I could speak fluent Russian.   Don’t get me wrong, I have no affiliation to Russia, I learnt it at college because I was fascinated by the Cyrillic alphabet and wanted to see if I would ever be able to understand it.”

 

“Who chose you, Jack?  Was it someone in Government?  A Russian?”

 

Jack shook his head and brought his head up, leaned it against the wall and looked at Adam with a slight frown,

 

“They wanted you on this mission because of how you handled Custer and all that fiasco with him the other year.  Grant felt that you had the knowledge of  the native people that would help with this trip, being with a similar culture.   He trusted you to be able to use your raw initiative to the situation, whereas other Officers would be too hide bound to rules and regulations and would probably miss the things that you would see as relevant.”

 

“So?   What has that to do with you?”

 

“Some people in certain places don’t like mavericks.   Not that that has anything to do with why I was sent on board -” he frowned, “Seward saw to the purchase of this territory and he made a good deal, as far as it goes, but the people here have been under the influence of Russian culture and traditions, religion and language for a long time.   The only way they can make the necessary transition is by having all this as a military operation, under military law.   They won’t open the territory up for settlement for years.”

 

“How you do know that?   That’s partly why we are here,” Adam pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, “You’ve talked a lot, Jack, but you haven’t actually said much - yet.”

 

“They  don’t want you to get those papers or  get the woman to America.”   Jack shrugged slightly, regretted it immediately and groaned as the pain trickled down his arm, “I don’t know what the papers contain, except that it provides the Government with a very good reason for purchasing this territory.  The - the people I know won’t want the Government to provide that good reason, they want to rouse up contention and get the Government removed.”

 

“You can’t remove a Government like that -” Adam said scornfully, “If it were that easy then Governments would fall every time they made a decision that others disagreed with, there would be anarchy.”

 

“With the papers Irena has -”  Jack leaned forward, “whatever they contain could enable - make it possible for the President to be impeached, removed from office.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Oh, Captain, you’re very naïve, aren’t you?   We’ve just fought a civil war, for heavens’ sake, and there are still people who don’t think Grant should be President.  There are still people who want -”

 

Adam raised a hand for silence,  and shook his head,

 

“Don’t say anymore.  I don’t want to hear it.” he said quickly, and he sighed heavily as he rose to his feet and took the oil lamp back to where he was to sleep, plunging Jack into the darker shadows of the greyness within the room.

 

O’Brien was stirring now,  he rubbed his eyes and face, yawned and stretched his arms.   Perhaps the light from the lamp caught his eyes but he opened them, blinked and looked at Adam

 

“Anything wrong?” he asked.

 

Adam shook his head, and signalled the other man to get back to sleep.   As O’Brien shrugged, pulled the covers back over his shoulders and settled back for  some more sleep, Adam lay down and folded his arms behind his head.  He stared up into the shadows and tried to make sense of the garbled explanation that Lawson had given him.

 

He fell asleep thinking about the power of a  phoenix to rise from the ashes and consequently dreamt of fire, and within the flames he saw the Ponderosa.  It wasn’t real, not for real he told himself as he struggled to get out of the dream, and when he finally succeeded in doing so he found he had slept only a short while, O’Brien was snoring almost as loudly as Rostov,  and he, Adam, had a splitting head ache.

 

It was not long before Valentina awoke, and she and Pilitaq began to organise a meal to start the day.   She left her visitors to dress themselves before she came back into the main living area and approached Adam,

 

“The man who is wounded, what will you do with him?”

 

“What do you mean?”  Adam glanced quickly over at Jack who appeared to be still sleeping,  and then he looked at her and noticed the concern on her face.

 

“ Yumik will not take his dogs further with him going with you.   Yumik may well kill him for the insult that man gave him.”

 

“Insult?” Adam frowned,  he felt heavy headed and tired, and again he looked over at Jack and knew the man was awake and listening to every word that was being said.   He took Valentina by the elbow and led her a little distance away, “We need to get to your mother, it’s very important.” he paused, “Are you serious about Yumik ‘s threat to kill Lawson?”

 

“A Siberian Yu’pik doesn’t take kindly to being shot at and wounded, especially when his back is turned.” she smiled rather contemptuously as though it may be alright to do that kind of thing in Adam’s culture but not where they were concerned.  “He would want to be avenged - is that the right word?” 

 

“Valentina -” he took a deep breath, and shook his head, “I can understand how Yumik may be feeling but Lawson has to go back with me.  My Government will want to court martial him for the wrong he has done.”  he felt he was swimming rather against the current as the expression on her face didn’t change, “If Yumik returns to his own village is there anyone here who will take us?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“If I left Lawson here,  would Yumik take us to your mother?”

 

She shook her head again, “They will kill him - like a rogue elephant walrus.”

 

Adam winced on behalf of Jack Lawson and for the fact that getting to Irena was becoming a constant source of problems.  He looked now at Yumik who was looking sullenly over at Lawson,

 

“Is there any way I can bring about peace between them?”

 

She shrugged slightly and shook her head, her eyes never left his face, and in the light of the oil lamps she looked extremely young and pretty.  She put a hand out and touched his face,

 

“You are handsome man, Captain.  You speak to Yumik, explain and may be he will listen to you.”   she looked over at Lawson and then back to Adam, “The journey to my mother is not far from here.   It is iglulik (place with houses) for sick people.”

 

“A quarantine area?”  Adam frowned.   The last thing he needed now was for any of them to become unwell.

 

“I do not know that word.   My mother is shaman. She care for  them, some die, some live.   When my father is sick and goes away, mother cares for him, but he die.  When someone sick they go and my mother travels there to care for them.’”

 

She left him then, leaving him with the problem of Yumik, what appeared to be the whole male Inuit population versus Jack Lawson, and the situation with Irena.    He beckoned Josef to his side, briefly outlined the problem and told him to persuade Yumik that he was to take them that morning, with or without Lawson.

 

“Whatever it takes, Captain?”

 

“Whatever it takes,” Adam replied and reached out for his sweater.   Morning had arrived and there was once again a chill in the air.

 

 

Chapter 32

 

“Right” Adam Cartwright’s voice dripped acid as he turned back into the dwelling and walked pass Rostov, “It seems your powers of persuasion are as effective as ever, Rostov.”

 

Seeing Yumik, Pilitaq and the other Inuit vanishing into the early morning sun rise and their own sled, complete with their necessary equipment, abandoned in the snow,  was a real test of patience and self control for Adam.  Had Hoss or Joe been the one to have said or done the very thing to have caused such an abrupt abandonment by their Inuit helpers then Adam would have followed his words by a clenched fist swung with all his strength behind it.

 

Rostov stammered something and with dismay stood back for O’Brien to pass him,

 

“What exactly did you say to them, Josef?” Daniel asked quietly, a discreet whisper behind his Captain’s back.

 

“I said if they didn’t take us I’d break all their legs and shoot the dogs.” Rostov groaned.

 

“Best not mention THAT to the Captain then -” O’Brien said with a slight grin as he hurried to rejoin Adam.

 

Rostov, knowing it was best to keep a low profile, pushed Lawson against the wall, well behind the Officers, and waited for what was to come next.   Lawson, having heard the comments between all the men, enjoyed a momentary glow of pleasure at seeing their plans thwarted.

 

Valentina seemed surprised to see them return, and observed them with a quizzical expression on her face.  Adam swept off his hat, treated her to one of his dazzling smiles

 

“It would seem we must prevail upon your hospitality for a while longer, Valentina.” and he explained how Yumik had deserted them.  Valentina glared over at Rostov and nodded,

 

“It is better that they left,” she said with a slight shrug and looked at Lawson, tossing her head in a significant gesture that recalled the earlier threat that had been mentioned in connection with him from Yumik.

 

“May be so, but it does leave us with the problem of how to reach your mother.”   Adam frowned, the dark brows expressive in the way they arched, and his eyes looked concerned, “Valentina, may I ask you - perhaps you could help us and we need not have to see your mother at all.”

 

“I shall help you if I can, Captain.” she smiled and indicated that they sit down,  which they did once she herself was seated.

 

Adam stretched out his long legs, and placed his hat beside him, then he looked at her.

 

“Your mother is a distant relative of Count Pestchouroff who was responsible for handing over these territories to our representative some years ago,  and I believe that he gave her some papers to keep safe.   Am I right?”

 

“Yes.  My mother often told me stories of when she was a young girl.  She was even presented to the Czar at the royal court.   She spoke four languages even before she came here to Aleuska.”   she sighed and frowned, “When we heard that the Count was going to hand over the territory to the Americans my mother was very happy.  She wanted to see her family again.”

 

“And the papers?”  Adam urged, hoping to distract the girl from her reminiscing for he was impatient for the information he needed.

 

“She returned very sad.   Life for my fathers people had been hard beneath the Russian.  For many generations the Russians oppressed the people, there have been massacres, villages and settlements destroyed as the Russians tried to destroy our culture, our traditions.  They even forced us to take on their religion.  Sometimes our people would rebel, and they would fight.  But it was like a flea biting a bear … “ she shook her head and glanced towards the little alcove where the candle burned before the shrine of  Irena’s particular icon.

 

They were silent for a moment before she recommenced speaking,

 

“My mother wanted to help the people, she cared for them and they taught her the traditional ways to help the sick among them.  She met my father …  and married him even though…”

 

“Yes, even though?”  Adam prompted.

 

She raised her eyes and then cast them down to observe her hands,

 

“Even though her family said that they would not longer want her as their -” she grappled for the right word “ in their family.  You understand?  Russian noble family and Yu‘pik whale hunter?  Not good match, niet?”

 

There was a silence now so heavy among those present that Valentina felt the tears well up in her eyes and spill over.   Now she wiped the tears from her cheeks and  looked at Adam sadly, nodded and sighed.

 

“You speak of papers?  Yes, my mother returned with papers that she said her cousin had given her.  He had told her that there was information in them that the Americans would want,  she was to be careful   whether or not to give it to them.  You, Captain Adam, have come for them?”

 

“Those were my orders.”

 

“My mother was sad because she could see that there would be no good thing for the people out of this exchange.  Maybe one day, but not for a long time.   We have heard how your Government has killed many of the native peoples in north America.  Sometimes some of these people have escaped and reached our settlements and they tell us about how their peoples have been massacred by Americans who want their land.  It is just as the Russians came -”  she sighed and looked thoughtfully at the four men, then she leaned forward and took hold of Adam’s hands within her own,   “My mother has gone to the iglulik, where the people are sick  -” she sighed and the tears trickled down her cheeks, “but you are a good man, a kind man.  I see in your eyes pity, compassion.   But I know -” she looked over at Lawson, “that you are a loyal man to your Government, you obey orders.” she tightened her grip upon his fingers, “But if the orders are bad, will you obey them?   A kind man can not obey the orders that will destroy people, will he?”

 

Jack Lawson inhaled sharply, and glanced sharply at Adam, his lips tightened as he waited for his Captain’s reply.

 

“I have to obey orders, that is my duty.” Adam replied quietly, although his fingers answered the pressure of her own, and there was a tentative smile on his lips, “Your mother still has the papers in her possession?”

 

“Yes.  She said when she heard of the big ship coming ‘The Americans have come for Pestchouroff’s papers.   If they want them they must come for them.’”  a little frown puckered her brow, like a small horseshoe, “Are they so important?”

 

“Have you read them yourself?”

 

“No, not at all.  No one has read them except -”

 

“Your mother?”

 

“Yes, my mother.   It is written in the old Cyrillic alphabet.  I do not understand it -” she smiled briefly.

 

Adam lowered his eyes, pursed his lips and frowned, he knew exactly who did and bit his lip as he pondered over the next action he was to take.  He looked up at her,

 

“Valentina, tell me where this village is, how long will it take if I walk?”

 

“It is not far.    But there is another way for you to get there.  It will be quicker.  You can take a bidarka, if you are skilled enough to do so.”

 

Lawson and Rostov glanced at one another, waited to hear Adam’s reply.   Would their Captain prefer to walk or  go by river in the bidarka, the traditional one or two holed kayak of the Inuit.  

 

Adam released her hands, smiled and nodded.

 

“Will you continue to be hospitable to my men, Valentina?   Mr Lawson and I shall go in the bidarka.” he turned to Jack who was cringing at the thought, “Thank you for the offer.” he smiled grimly, one word he did know, at least, was the meaning of  that and one thing he could use fairly adequately was the kayak.   He smiled over at Daniel who was looking anxious,

 

“I shouldn’t be too long, O’Brien.  Make sure Rostov doesn’t upset too many of the locals while I’m gone, will you?”   he stood up, bowed to Valentina very gallantly and then turned to Lawson, “Well, now, Mr Lawson, time to add to your education.”

 

Chapter 32

 

One of the first things that needed to be changed was their clothing.  They had been barely adequately clothed for the climate during their journey from the ship to Valentina’s but now, going by sea, even if for only a brief time, called for a complete change of wardrobe.

 

They were also provided with grease taken from seal fat and told to put onto their bodies to provide insulation.   As Valentina cautioned as she handed the stuff to them it would take only a few minutes in the water for them to die, the grease would act as a barrier in such an event and give them, perhaps, time to get back to safety in the kayak.

 

Jack Lawson was grey faced as he lathered the stuff over his body.  He couldn’t speak, his throat was too dry.  Adam in the meantime larded himself up pretty well and wondered what Hoss would think were he to see him.  It would have provided his brother with more than one chuckle over breakfast and Adam smiled at the thought. 

 

Now they put on undershirts, underpants and stockings made from muskrat fur, worn with the fur side next to the skin.   Caribou pants were then pulled on and knee length boots of caribou with hare skin stockings lining the inside of the boots were pulled on over the pants, the soles of the boots were of beluga whale skin for extra grip on the ice.

 

Next they shrugged themselves into long hooded jackets trimmed with wolverine fur which had been proved to protect the face from the elements. 

 

“Captain -” Jack suddenly blurted, “I - I don’t know anything about kayaks.  I don’t think I should go with you.  Couldn’t you take Josef?”

 

“Jack, you want those papers, don’t you?  This is your chance to see them before anyone else - apart from myself of course.” Adam paused in the act of pulling on some  caribou gloves, and he looked at Jack with narrowed eyes, “Just trust me, Jack.”

 

“I was thinking that if we walked -”

 

“Don’t think, Jack.   You’re here to obey orders.   You’ve already committed one treasonable act, for which you still have to give me a reasonable explanation.”  he picked up the walrus hide mittens and viewed them with some disgust, “This little expedition of ours may just balance things out by giving you the opportunity to prove for yourself and your country where your real loyalties lie.”

 

“Captain, if we walked -”

 

“All you have to do is sit very still.  I’m not expecting you to do anything more than that.”

 

“She said we could freeze to death -”

 

“If we walked the same applies.” he shrugged the hood over his head, and fastened it so that it would not blow loose then pulled on his mittens.  “Now, shut up, finish dressing and meet me outside.”

 

O’Brien approached him as he came into view and glanced over his shoulder to where Valentina was waiting.  She was already dressed in her hooded jacket, mittens and boots.

 

“Captain, do you really think this is wise?   The waters freezing, and you’ll be alone with Lawson?   What if he overturns the boat?  He could use this as an opportunity to kill you.”

 

“In which case you will have to assume command of the Ainola.” Adam remarked calmly, “Look, Daniel, Lawson is the only person here who understands the Cyrillic alphabet.  Perhaps when he has seen what the papers contain -”

 

“But what if -”

 

“Daniel, as your friend, may I ask you to have a little more confidence in me.?” he put his mittened hand on O’Brien’s arm and smiled, “As your Captain, do as you are ordered.   If I am not back in three days time you take command of the Ainola.  Return to the ship and report us missing.”

 

He looked earnestly into the face of the younger man, and smiled slowly.  He could see and understand the concerns of his first Officer, and sympathised.  There was a lot he didn’t understand about this assignment, but then, when in service, whichever service it happened to be,  when orders were given it was not for them to question them.

 

“We all have our orders to obey, Lieutenant.” he said softly, and O’Brien nodded, stepped aside and saluted as though this would be the last time he would have the chance to salute his Captain.

 

Valentina led them outside and walked to the rivers edge.  On the island there were over 40 rivers, many of them frozen solid and when covered by snow seemingly just part of the land.   This particular river course they kept open by using their kayaks for  killing seals and fish for food during the winter months, during the times when the weather made such hunting possible.

 

Adam did pause at one stage as he saw the black water with the ice breaking up upon it.   But an hour or two on the water, in the end, still seemed the better option than walking on snow shoes for ten.   The sky was clear and blue, and a pale  sun shone through misty clouds.   The air smelt fresh and clean, and he once again felt the strangeness of seeing himself from outside himself as he took his place in the wood framed skin kayak.

 

He had studied the map, the one Valentina had shown him, and knew that there was no chance of getting lost as the route was easy and direct.  No rapids, no waterfalls.  Compared to some waterways he had traversed in a kayak back home this was going to be a picnic.   He smiled thoughtfully, and chided himself - on this earth, nothing was a picnic. 

 

The kayak rocked as Lawson took his seat.   Then Adam took the double bladed paddle and pushed his way into the waters which parted to receive the frail vessel. 

 

There had been a time years earlier when he and Joe had undertaken such a journey.  But Joe was confident, and a capable young man.  He knew as well as Adam how to use the paddle to good effect.   The canoe in which they had been seated had been like a dart cutting through the waters and when they had come to the rapids they had both whooped aloud in sheer exhileration and held their breaths as stomachs churned over on their descent and then plummeted back into place as they crashed into the waters that had opened up to receive them.

 

Happy, laughing Joe.  So different from this tense, nervous, totally terrified young man seated in front of him now.   Adam sighed, and edged carefully pass the first ice floe that had floated towards them.

 

Chapter 33

 

A feeling of contentment settled upon both men as the kayak wended its way along the most smooth water.   After the storms there was now tranquillity.  The clothing they wore made them feel so warm that the beauty of their surroundings could be appreciated in a way that Adam found exhilarating, and Lawson found, despite his fears and misgivings, peaceful and soothing to his ruffled nerves.

 

Ripples spread out across the water as the paddle dipped in and out of such smooth water that was in part so blue as it reflected the sky above them.   Seals on ice floes watched them as they appeared to float by them.  They gazed with solemn black eyes at them, rolled on their backs, exposed their fat blubbery bodies, or they slid into the waters, creating ripples of their own that sent the frail vessel bobbing up and down.

 

It was a time for reflection.  Adam was a strong physical man and the method of paddling the kayak was effortless as the current bore them along.   He thought of the papers and wondered what they would contain.  He wondered whether or not he should have taken Lawson with the intention of allowing him to read them,  after all, wasn’t that just playing into the enemies hands?  And really, who were the enemy?   What Lawson had told him were snatched fragments of an excuse without any tangible sense to it.  How did Lawson know so much about him anyway?

 

He sighed.  Dipped in the paddle and felt the water push away, and so the kayak darted forward pushing through the ice cold waters with such a pleasant ease that Lawson was soon relaxed and enjoying his role as passenger.  

 

Look! Ahead of them two minke whales, their black and white bodies gleaming in the wintry sunlight as they leapt up towards the sky and then plunged back into the sea sending the ripples rolling towards them and up and down the kayak went, up and down.  

 

Adam kept close to the shoreline, this was, after all, a river, and the last thing he wanted to do was take them out and away from their destination.   In and out flashed the paddle with a regularity and power that made Lawson relax more than ever.  He wanted to turn to Adam and point to the wonderful things he was seeing …  he wanted to  look at Adam and tell him … tell him what?   That he was wrong?  Could he be forgiven for having made a mistake?  Does a man ever really make a mistake where loyalties were concerned?

 

He looked away now from the beauties of the natural world about him and contemplated the events of the past few days.   Then his mind wandered back into the past, to the day his father had entered their home waving a piece of paper and declaring that war had been declared … war.   He remembered how they had cheered and laughed, and slapped each other on the back saying the war would be over in a few months, they would trounce the Yankees.

 

He had two sisters and three brothers then.  He remembered them well, and with loving affection for they had been a close family.   One by one the boys had gone to fight along with their father.  He, the youngest, had been the last to go, leaving the three women to manage the plantation alone.

 

People thought that once the war had ended, Abraham Lincoln assassinated, Grant installed as President of the United States and the South crushed, that all could be forgotten, brushed under the carpet, fodder for cheap history books and romantic novels.   But even now there were those groups of people who worked hard to re-ignite the flame, to keep alive the Confederate hope.  

 

He felt himself tremble at the memory of his return home two months after the war had ended.   He had been captured and in a camp with other young men.   They had made their vows to continue where their leaders had failed.  They were the young ones and they would succeed.  And then they had returned home to their families … only not their families.   So much changed, so much different.   Too much gone and lost.

 

Who knew where father and two brothers had died and been buried?  Had they died together or scattered far and wide?   Mother had grown old and weak, exhausted by her work load, two sisters, spinsters and bitter with it.  One brother left, an ambitious young man who had accepted a post in the new Government.

 

A lowly rank of clerk to be sure, but privy to much that was said and done.  Who among the great men at the big tables noticed the polite darkly clad young man who was always so willing to provide this, and that, and who knew what files were kept and where?

 

A bond of hate that had tied the brothers together as closely as bonds of love had bound the Cartwrights to one another.  The Lawson brothers remembered their dead and their lost ones, and sought not only their revenge but also a means to secure for their cause something that could bring about that shift in power, that equalising that the old families of the South so eagerly sought.

 

And he had been their pawn -.

 

As the kayak continued on its way, with the sun playing hide and seek among the clouds and the soft splash of seals plopping into the water and then peeking at them through the ripples Lawson felt as though his heart had been squeezed tightly by a hand other than his own, and then released slowly, slowly.   He felt as though his heart was lightened by a feeling he had not experienced in a long time.  A healing. An understanding.

 

He heard a sound now, and for a moment he was unsure what it was and so inclined his head to wards his Captain.  So that was what it was - Adam Cartwright was humming a song beneath his breath, just loud enough for him to hear.  Jack Lawson sighed and closed his eyes. 

 

‘This is where the sun shines

This is where the sky is blue …’

 

……………………

 

Joseph Cartwright scowled as the knocking on the door continued persistently and loudly resounding through the house.   Here he was all alone, propped up by pillows, a book, unopened, by his side.   Wasn’t anyone going to answer that wretched door he groaned.

 

Barbara Scott wiped her hands free of flour and brushed the residue against her apron.   She pulled the door open and smiled at the young woman standing on the porch,

 

“Hello,” she said and stepped to one side, “Do come in.”

 

“Thank you,” the young woman stepped inside and looked around her, her eyes wide and interested as she looked at the hearth, the big leather chair, and then she smiled at Barbara.  “Is Mr Cartwright at home?”

 

“Which Mr Cartwright do you mean?” Barbara smiled and her eyes looked at the young girl gently,  assessing her as someone who had recently left college perhaps, but new to town.

 

“Mr Adam Cartwright.”  she replied and smiled, stepped further into the room and sighed as though content to be there, as though she had just come home.  “Is Adam here?  I am so longing to see him again.”

 

……………………….

 

She stood  very still, her long caribou coat wrapped around her, the hood over her head and covering her face from nose downwards, only her eyes were visible as she watched the kayak manoeuvre its was towards her.    She saw the two men and wondered who they were, for although they were dressed as Yu’pik there was something about their bearing that was intrinsically foreign. 

 

Irena Pestchouroff stepped back a little way from the river and closer to her dwelling house.   The long ripples of the kayaks wake widened and spread out behind the little craft as it made its way towards the shore.   Her large blue eyes scanned the face of the man in front … no, too young  to be the man in charge.   Ah, her eyes looked upon the face of the man paddling, this is the leader, she told  herself, drew her coat closer around her, and waited.

 

…………………………

 

“Is Adam  here?” she smiled, clasped her hands together and stood there looking such a pretty little lady in her grey jacket and skirt with the lace edged white blouse, the collar of which fell open on the lapels of her jacket.  Her straw hat had a blue ribbon and some silk flowers sewn into it.   She looked as pretty as a picture with the sunlight streaming from the open door upon the spot on which she stood.

 

“No, I’m afraid he isn’t.” Barbara replied rather stiffly and feeling, for some reason, rather large and clumsy.  Her apron was covered in flour and strands of dark hair fell loose around her face which was rather red and, as they say in the best ladies books, glowing.

 

“Oh what about Mr Ben Cartwright and Hoss?”

 

“They aren’t here either.”

 

“Well, I know Joe’s home because they told me that he was unable to leave the house.” the unnamed visitor glanced around the room, “Is he upstairs?”

 

“Yes, but -”

 

“Oh, I’ll go up then -” she turned with a warm chuckle and headed towards the stairs, being prevented from actually stepping foot on them by Barbara who had grabbed her arm,

 

“I’m sorry.  You can’t possibly go upstairs by yourself to a young man’s room.  That’s unthinkable.”

 

“Oh I guess you’re right.” she looked crest fallen, “I am sorry, and I don’t even know who you are either -”

 

“No, you don’t.” Barbara replied rather stiffly, “nor do I know who you are.”

 

The young woman shrugged and glanced upstairs, then looked again at Barbara and smiled.

 

“I’m Margaret Dayton Cartwright.  How do you do?” and she extended her gloved hand very politely.

 

“Barbara Scott.  I’m the school teacher in town and as it’s the weekend I’m taking care of things here.”

 

“Barbara Scott.” Margaret said slowly, and nodded, “Well, Miss Scott, that’s fine.  Now we both know who we are may I go upstairs and see Joe now?”

 

“You’ll have to wait until I’ve finished in the kitchen, then I’ll come with you.” Barbara replied rather coldly and turned towards the kitchen as she spoke, but the footsteps behind her didn’t sound as though they were following after her, rather that they were tripping gaily up the stairs towards the upper landing.  “Miss -”

 

But Margaret only laughed and ran up the stairs and along the landing, peering into rooms and then

 

“ JOE!”

 

“Who the dickens are you?” Joe cried, pulling his sheet higher to reach to his neck as this feckless young thing bounded into his room with all the joy of a spring morning within her.

 

“Oh Joe, have you forgotten me already?” she laughed and tossed her hat into a chair and approached the bed, “It’s me.  Margaret Dayton Cartwright.”

 

“I don’t know any Margaret -” he paused and looked into the pretty face, “Margaret?  D’you mean - Peggy?”

 

“Yes, yes, that’s right, it’s me, Peggy.”  she laughed again and turned as the door opened wider and Barbara came into the room, “Miss Scott here said you were upstairs.   I thought if one single girl can come and see you, why shouldn’t another!  Anyway, we are related and old friends, aren’t we, Joe?” and she looked rather saucily at Barbara, the kind of look that would have awarded any of her students a sharp smack for insolence.

 

“Barbara, you’ll have to forgive Peggy, she’s always been trouble.    And a nuisance.” Joe chuckled, the first time he had laughed since the accident, and Barbara felt resistance to the situation melt at the sheer relief of hearing him.  “Peggy, Miss Scott is engaged to marry Adam.” he said with a flourish of the hand, “Miss Scott, Peggy is our cousin Will’s step-daughter.  Laura Dayton’s daughter.”

 

The two women looked at one another.  The older more mature woman experiencing the same emotions as the young girl who stood before her.   Both saw in the other someone with the ability to snatch the man they loved away from them.  Barbara, who knew so well the story of Laura and Peggy, straightened her back and acknowledged the girl with a nod of the head, and Peggy, who had loved Adam far more passionately than her mother ever could have done, did likewise.

 

“Peggy, pull up a chair and tell me how everyone is and what’s been going on in your life?   Barbara, perhaps Peggy would like some lemonade -” he looked at Barbara and frowned slightly, “Barbara?” 

 

Barbara gave herself a little shake, and turned to Joe, then looked at Peggy who was pulling a chair closer to the bedside,

 

“Of course, I’m sorry.  Lemonade, Miss Dayton, I mean, Cartwright, or coffee?”

 

“Lemonade please.” Peggy replied without looking at Barbara but smiling at Joe with a fondness that made Barbara feel even angrier.

 

“Shucks, Peggy, who would have thought it?” Joe said softly, “Let me look at you now.  If you ain’t as pretty as paint. Pa and Hoss are never going to believe it when they see you.  Are your parents with you?”

 

“No.  Just me.” she smiled and leaned forward, bringing with her the smells of wild flowers and fresh new grass, “Joe, I couldn’t believe it when they said in town that you were hurt so bad.”  she paused and a little frown furrowed her brow, “And - and where’s Adam?”

 

“No one knows.” Joe shrugged, “He went to sea some years ago, then he came back home and just as he was settling back into things the Government snapped its fingers and spirited him away again.”

 

“The Government?”

 

“Yep, some kind of secret assignment.  Anyway, he wasn’t able to tell us where he was going.   We’ve not heard from him for weeks either.”

 

“And - and is she really going to marry him - when he comes home?” she said softly, her eyes clouded with a misery and despondency that wasn’t lost to him for he reached out and took hold of her hand in his,

 

“Cheer up, little chicken, it may never happen.” he said quietly.

 

“Adam always keeps his promises.” she reminded him, “If he said he’s going to marry her, then he will.”

 

“She’s very nice, Peggy, you’ll like her as you get to know her.” he coaxed with an encouraging smile as he tried to look into her face.

 

She had grown into a pretty little thing, he thought, still with freckles though and that stubborn nose.   Her teeth were pleasantly straight now, what a change!  Her hair was the same pale blonde as her mothers.  He thought of Laura and realised that Peggy didn’t really resemble her mother at all, having much stronger features, which complemented her stronger personality.

 

“Tell me about Will and Laura.  How are they?  What have you been doing during your growing up into such a fine looking young lady.” he teased.

 

“Aw, now you’re just teasing me, aren’t you?” she said and looked up at him with her lips all of a pout and a furrow in her brow.

 

“Well, you’re not the little girl who rode out of here with a check shirt and dungarees, are you?”

 

“No.  I guess not.  Right now I wish I were and that -” she stopped as the door opened and the rustle of skirts indicated that Barbara had re-entered the room.  

 

Barbara had tidied her hair and put away the apron.  She set down the tray on a table and brought closer to the bed.  There were three glasses on the tray.   She pulled up a chair and sat down,  smiled at them both, and looked innocently sweet.

 

“Adam’s told me about your mother, and yourself, Margaret.” she said as she passed a glass of lemonade to the girl, and then one to Joe.  “I believe you left here some years ago, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes, that’s right.   Uncle Will had a place of his own and we moved there.   My mother has had two other children since then.” she sipped the lemonade and sighed, “This is very nice lemonade, Miss Scott.”

 

“Thank you,” Miss Scott replied and continued to sip her own very slowly.

 

“I’ve been to college.” Peggy turned to Joe, “I went to  a very smart ladies college in Pennsylvania, at Harrisburg.  I wanted to come back here for a visit after I’d graduated, I wanted to see -  everyone - and to see where we’d lived when I was a little girl.  I wanted to see daddy’s grave and say a proper goodbye.” her voice lowered a little, and she buried her face in her glass and sipped more lemonade.

 

“Are you going to be here long?” Joe asked, “You know you’ll be more than welcome here.  There’s plenty of room.”  he smiled, “Pa wouldn’t expect anything less, you know that.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know -” she smiled, and shook her head, glanced at Barbara, “Are you staying here, Miss Scott?”

 

“No.   I have my own home in town.  I couldn’t get to the school and back in the time it takes if I stayed here, and my books are all at home as well. I only stay over at the week end, sometimes.” she added as an after thought.

 

“Then perhaps I should go back to town with Miss Scott.” she looked at Joe and smiled, and squeezed his hand , in turnJoe gave her a lop sided grin and winked at Barbara.

 

What, Joe thought, was wrong with her?   Surely she wasn’t jealous of a young girl?  Adam isn’t even here, so what could be making her so - well - not to put too fine a point on it - so school marm-y!

 

“Joe, do you remember that morning when you and Hoss decided that they would make me laugh no matter what?  Hoss painted his nose bright red and put a daisy in his hair and danced a funny jig in the yard and you did somersaults so well until you fell into the water trough.” and she laughed and looked at Barbara, “They were so funny, Miss Scott, you would have laughed so had you seen them.”

 

“And you laughed -” Joe said with a lighter tone to his voice than they had heard for a while, “So we got what we intended, didn’t we now?”

 

The door downstairs closed loudly, Ben’s voice called out ’Anyone home?’ and Barbara rose to her feet,

 

“Oh Miss Scott, please don’t tell them I’m here.  I want to surprise them.”

 

Barbara nodded, swished her skirts and left the room.   She walked down the stairs to where Ben and Hoss were unbuckling their gun belts,

 

“Hello, Ben, Hoss.”  she said with a smile to them both,  for the sight of the two men always gave her pleasure, she loved them both dearly already and knew how fond of her they both were, “We have a visitor.”

 

“A visitor?”  Ben cried, his eyes lighting up, then dimming when he could see from her face that it wasn’t the ’visitor ’ for whom he hoped, “A visitor?”

 

“Yes, with Joe -” and she stepped aside to let them both precede her up the stairs to Joe’s room. 

 

 

Chapter 34

 

Both Ben and Hoss entered Joe’s room rather cautiously.  Hoss was thinking that Candy was due back at any time but he couldn’t be the visitor because Barbara had an air about her that indicated someone, perhaps, unknown to them.  Ben was assuming it to be a young lady that Joe had sparked who had obviously upset Barbara in some manner, and so when he saw the girl standing by the bedside looking towards the door he mentally said to himself ‘I just knew it -’.

 

She looked excitedly from one to the other and then laughed, clapped her hands together and took a few running steps towards them,

 

“You don’t recognise me either, do you?  Joe didn’t, and I thought for sure he would.”

 

Ben and Hoss looked at one another and raised their eyebrows,  Ben shook his head, frowned, narrowed his eyes and then gave a shout of laughter,

 

“It can’t be -” he cried and threw out his arms to catch her in them, “Why, bless my soul, how you have grown.”

 

“I told Mama and Uncle Will you wouldn’t recognise me.  Hoss, you don’t know who I am yet, do you?” and she pouted and looked at him as though very upset.

 

“Shucks, guess the name jest completely slipped outa my head.” Hoss frowned, and shook his head, pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling, “Jest - dadgumit - you do kinda put me in mind of some cheeky little monkey that used to always be gittin in our way no matter how much we tried to shake yer off.  Now then - could it be -” he squatted down a little as though he had to examine her just a little bit closer “Could be - could be - but there look like some mighty big changes took place if you’re really that pesky little Peggy Dayton.”

 

“Oh, you did know,” she laughed and threw herself into his arms and hugged him close, “Oh Hoss, you always did tease.”

 

It surprised Barbara to see that there were genuine tears in the girls eyes, and she looked at Ben and Hoss and saw how happy they were to see Peggy, and how obviously fond of her they were, as well as Joe, who was sitting up with a wide smile on his face.

 

“Pa,  Peggy tells me that Will and Laura have two more children -” Joe said, “Ain’t that right, Peggy.”

 

“Yes,  a little boy, William Benjamin Cartwright and a girl  Mary Laura Cartwright.”  she looked at them rather shyly, “Uncle Will wanted you to know the boy has been named after you, Mr Cartwright.”

 

“I must say,” Ben bowed with a wide grin on his face, “I’m more than flattered.”

 

“I’ve been to college” she said as she slipped her arm through Hoss’ and they walked closer to Joe’s bedside, “Uncle Will said I should learn how to be a lady.”

 

“Did they succeed?” Joe asked looking very serious from his bed.

 

“They tried.  I don’t think so.” she replied sadly, and shrugged, “I’m just me.” she sounded wistful, “I’m not really sure what a lady should do, or be, I don’t want to sit in parlours and make polite talk, and I don’t want to go to parties and theatres all the time.”

 

“What do you want to do, Peggy?” Hoss asked, pushing the chair towards her and watching the pensive little face as she sat down,

 

“Thank you, Hoss.  Oh, what do I want to do?  Travel perhaps.  I’d like to do lots of things that ladies don’t do.    I’d like to have our ranch back and see it prospering like the Ponderosa is, but then again I would like to write -” she stopped and looked over at Barbara,  who was sitting in a chair next to Ben who was leaning upon the back of Peggy’s chair.  “Did you always want to be a teacher, Miss Scott?”

 

“Oh no,” Barbara blushed a little, shaken out of her reverie by the question, and she smiled, “I wanted to be an archaeologist.  I wanted to go to Egypt and see the pyramids and dig up ancient bones.”

 

“Then why didn’t you?” Joe asked, regarding her thoughtfully, “You would have had to ride on camels, perhaps elephants too.”

 

“Just camels would do, Joe.” Ben laughed.

 

“Why didn’t you do what you wanted to do?” Peggy asked, her eyes wide with questions.

 

“Because my parents died, and I had to find work very quickly that I could do.  Sometimes we don’t always have control over our own choices.”

 

“I know what you mean -” Peggy nodded sympathetically and turned to look at Joe.

 

She was about to speak when Ben interrupted by asking her where she was intending to stay,  and she gave a slight shrug,

 

“I only arrived on the morning stage.  I left my luggage at the depot.  I can stay at the hotel.   Uncle Will said I could.”

 

“You’ll do no such thing, dang it, you’ll stay right here, won’t she, Pa?  Shucks, you’re family after all.”

 

“That’s right, Peggy.  I told you they would insist on you staying here.” Joe chuckled and then rather theatrically he fell back upon the pillows with his hand upon his brow, “Oh curses, that means no escape from the wretched child.”

 

Barbara cleared her throat and stood up,

 

“She could come back with me tomorrow and stay at my house with me.  That is - if it is alright with you all.”

 

Four pairs of eyes swivelled in her direction and stared at her as though they had forgotten she was there, and it was Ben who was first to appreciate the offer for he came to her and put his hand gently upon her shoulder,

 

“Thank you, Barbara, that’s very kind of you.  Would you like that, Peggy?”

 

Peggy smiled, and nodded, she thanked Barbara very prettily and then turned to Joe  to talk nonsense with him.   Barbara swallowed a lump in her throat, and said quietly,

 

“I’ll ask Hop Sing to prepare for an extra one at dinner.” and left the room.

 

…………………..

 

Peggy  was a changeling, resisting attempts to turn her into a lady but acting like one nevertheless.   She was childlike, ladylike, full of laughter and chatter, then quiet and sullen.   She didn’t ask after Adam at any time during the meal nor afterwards.  She told them about  Will and Laura, where they lived, the children and college.   She was a young woman at that precious time in her life, when the rosebud opens its petals to the promise of becoming a beautiful full blown rose.   Although Peggy was a long way from beautiful, she was nevertheless vivacious and pretty, the sort of girl Barbara had never been able to be.

 

“Do you remember your pony?” Hoss said as they sat down by the fire, burning due to the coolness of the evening.

 

“Oh yes, I do, it broke my heart to leave him behind.” she smiled and looked dreamy eyed as she remembered the day Adam brought the little pony to the Dayton house.   “It seems such a long time ago now.”

 

“A lot’s happened since then, that’s for sure.” Hoss sighed, and with a slight frown on his brow he turned towards the fire and gazed in a melancholy manner into the flames.

 

“May I be excused and go and spend some time with Joe, please?” Peggy asked suddenly, “It must be rather horrible for him up there on his own, while we sit and chatter among ourselves down here.”

 

Ben smiled, pleased at her kind thoughts, nodded and watched her hurry up the stairs.  He looked at Barbara who was reading a book, lost in a world of her own,

 

“You must not mind Peggy, Barbara, she’s very young and impulsive.”

 

“Yes, Ben.” Barbara agreed, smiled at him, and returned to her book.

 

Sometimes she would pause awhile during her reading in the hope that there would be familiar footsteps on the porch outside.   She would look up at times like that and wait for the latch to rise and the door to open.   But she was always disappointed, the one person she longed to see didn’t come.  

 

“Are you worried about Adam?” Ben’s voice was kind, gentle and she looked up to see the dark eyes looking kindly at her, his face concerned,

 

“I miss him.” she said simply, and closed the book, “If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go to my room.”

 

“Good night, my dear.” Ben rose to his feet, Hoss also.   As she mounted the stairs Ben watched her with a sad expression on his face,  and when he sat down again he did so with a deep sigh.

 

 

Chapter 35

 

Adam steered the kayak towards the shore and called out to Jack to get out first.  For a seamanJack clambered out as clumsily as a schoolboy and it took  all of Adam’s skill and strength to keep the vessel from turning belly side up with him still in it.  Holding the blade of the paddle against the edge of the thick ice he succeeded in keeping it steady and seeing Jack  lumber up the ice.

 

Although warm Adam had the distinct impression that were he at home his family would have refused him admission.  The grease on his body was emitting a quite unpleasant odour through the heavy furs and he groaned inwardly as he inched himself out of his seat and onto the ice.    He secured the vessel higher up by hauling it along the ice himself, while Jack looked warily around him.

 

The small settlement was a mere huddle of dwellings looking just slightly sturdier than bivouacs.   Smoke rose from the openings in every roof however, and he was wondering what to do next when Adam reached his side and gave him a nudge on the elbow,

 

“If you feel like running I have to warn you that there really isn’t any place to run,” Adam said softly, and he looked thoughtfully at Jack before turning away and proceeding to walk carefully along the ice until his feet touched more solid ground beneath the snow.

 

It crunched with satisfying crispness as he trudged towards the woman who stood like some symbolic icon of patient waiting.   Behind him he could hear Jack, breathing hard, for the air was colder than ever despite the sun and blue skies.

 

“You were waiting for us?” he said to the woman when finally reaching her side and she inclined her head.

 

“When I heard the ship had come, I knew you would be here soon.”

 

Her English was excellent, her accent soft, and when she raised her face to look at him he was surprised to see that she was not the old woman he had expected, but a woman of middle years, probably only five years older than himself, with the features of a classical Madonna.  

 

“I am Irena Pestchouroff and I won’t keep you standing in the cold.  Come, please,” and she turned to lead the way to her home.

 

There was no sign of anyone.  The pathways trodden down in the snow between the dwellings were empty.   Nothing stirred.  The three figures, shapeless in their furs, were dark shapes moving silently through the ice laden village.    The sun spun spangles like diamonds on the ice, so intense that one had to avert ones eyes so as not to get dazzled.   The pure air, the crisp coldness, all combined to create a scene of sheer magical beauty.

 

Jack was walking as though in a trance.  In the recesses of his mind he recalled the story of a snow and ice palace where a beautiful princess dwelt.  He paused, looked around and sighed from the awesomeness of it all.

 

He had to hurry a little to catch up with the other two members of the group, and within a few moments she was holding open the door  to admit them into her home.   It was very humble, very basic.  It reminded Adam of the tepee’s of the plains Indians with the bare necessities only on display.  He was aware of the intense heat generated by all the furs he was wearing and from the stove that was burning  in the centre of the room.   She was peeling off her outer layers and indicated that they should do the same, which they did gratefully for the weight was wearisome.

 

“I’m Adam Cartwright, Captain of the Ainola, and representing the Government of the United States, Madam.   I am more than pleased to make your acquaintance.  This gentleman is Lieutenant Jack Lawson, he speaks fluent Russian although -” he smiled “Your English is so excellent that I fear his skills won’t be called upon.”

 

She looked at them both with a seriousness that made Jack feel as though she were looking deep into his mind and knew everything about him as a result.  It was a feeling that made him feel acutely uncomfortable.   Adam, upon looking at her, a beautiful mature woman, slender, tall, very pale and blonde, in fact her hair had turned to silver streaks in the way that happens with the blondes of the Russian steppes.   Her eyes were large, very blue, and the skin of her face seemed unmarked with age, which was extremely unusual for skin aged far more quickly under such rigorous extremes of weather.   She turned her blue gaze to him and smiled,

 

“Won’t you sit down, Captain?   It is not very elegant here, I know, but please be as comfortable as you can be.”  she indicated to Jack that he also should sit, which he did, at some slight distance from them both.

 

“You have seen Valentina, my daughter?”

 

“Yes, indeed.” Adam smiled, “She explained why you were here.”

 

Jack was looking at her from his position in the background,  and thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful in all his life.  That she was old enough to be his mother hardly mattered, he was breathless in admiration and the thought crossed his mind that it was ridiculous for such a beauty to be hidden away in such a barren God forsaken place as this one.

 

“There are sickness here that need my attention.” she shrugged as though apologising for such inconvenience and then smiled at them both.  “Can I get you both some food and drink?  The journey, though short, must have been tiring.”  and before either man could say a word she had risen to her feet and moved to the area where food was already cooking .

 

Jack and Adam sat in meditative silence for the time she was absence, it was as though by her leaving she had taken the energy from the room.   It was some moments before she returned and placed a bowl of something pleasant smelling by Adams side.

 

“Shall we talk as we eat?” she suggested, passing a bowl of the food to Jack, “You will need to leave here before sunset and the days are short still, although lengthening.”   she broke some bread and passed some to Adam in hands that were exquisite with long tapering fingers that were adorned with many rings.   “You have come for the papers that my cousin gave me after he handed Aleuska to your country, isn’t that right?”

 

“Yes.” Adam nodded, chewed on some meat and swallowed.  He began to think it had smelled so good because his own body smell was so bad.  He cleared his throat, “The American Government are willing to offer you anything you demand for  the papers.”

 

“Is that what they said?”

 

“That’s what they said.” Adam smiled.

 

“My cousin gave them to me and said to read them, to dispose of them if I thought necessary.    At first I thought I would because I             could only see hardship and problems for my people as a result of the Americans having them.   They have suffered enough as it is under the Russians.”  her voice hardened, and her lips closed to form a line of white anger, before she relaxed a little again and glanced up at him, “Then I thought what would it matter anyway because the Americans will do what they want with this territory, and they will treat the people here just as harshly as they have treated the people in North America.  These papers won’t change that so what else matters.”  again the shrug of the shoulders, and she looked at Jack then, “Do you read Russian?”

 

“Yes, I studied the Russian language because I was so fascinated by the Cyrillic alphabet.  I can read it fluently.”

 

“And are you an honest young man?” she said with a straight to the heart look and a cryptic smile on her mouth.

 

“I - I hope that would be found true, Madam.” Jack replied, although he went red to his collar and darted a look to his Captain.

 

Neither Adam nor Irena said anything in reply to that comment.  Once again Jack was left to wriggle in the morass of his own misery.   He ate the stew without relish, it tasted bland and unappealing although pleasantly hot.

 

“I have also been ordered by my Government to bring you to America with us.  Would you do so, Madam?  Or, perhaps, you would prefer to return to your own people.”

 

“Who are my people, Captain Adam Cartwright?   I left Russia many years ago, my family disowned me, and my husband’s people accepted me.   Is it not better to stay where one is loved than where one is - despised?”

 

Adam inclined his head in agreement and looked at his food, licked his fingers and put the bowl down.

 

 

 

“People of my class in Russia do not marry peasants, not even Russian peasants.   To marry an Inuit was tantamount to throwing my good name to the dogs.”  she shook her head, “I was surprised when Pestchouroff asked me to attend the ceremony but then he gave me the papers and I realised he gave them to me because I was so unreachable.   He wanted as much time to elapse - is that the right word? - he wanted much time to pass between then and when the papers would be found.  Perhaps he wanted to be able to blame me should they have just disappeared.”   she frowned, “But I am confused, Captain, by how the Americans came to know of these papers.”

 

“You should never be surprised about anything,” he smiled at her, “All those faceless nameless people going too and fro about their business that those like Pestchouroff and General Lovell would ignore, they see and hear everything.”

 

“Of course, I should have realised.” she smiled slowly, “I often wondered what secrets in my family were common knowledge  among the servants.  How ignorant and stupid we all are -” she sighed and looked closer into Adam’s face. “As for going with you to America.  No, I refuse your offer.   I am needed here.   No one needs me there, you will have the papers, that is sufficient.  My people here need me.  And I need to feel needed since my husband died -  do you understand?”

 

Jack cast an anxious look at Adam, not totally reassured at the remark, but Adam remained resolute, he had picked out more food and was chewing methodically.  She was beautiful, but she couldn’t cook, he was thinking to himself.

 

She had risen to her feet now and walked to a small chest which she opened carefully and from that she took an oilskin package which she brought to Adam, placing it at his feet on the ground.

 

“Here are you papers, Captain.  I do not wish any money, gold, nothing … “ she paused, “Perhaps I would wish that when your Government reads these papers they would do nothing about them.   Burn them and leave these people alone.  Let them live their lives, enjoy their culture and language, their religion and beliefs.   Spare them the indignities of being a people subjugated to another.”

 

“I can’t promise anything, Madam, I’m only the messenger.” he smiled sadly, and thought of the people he had known  who had cried the same message of  peace and respect to all men.   He thought also of the men who thought of themselves as given the divine right to sweep the savages out of existence in order that they could inherit the earth and all that it contained.   He took the package and weighed it in his hands before handing it to Jack.

 

Jack Lawson couldn’t believe it when the package was given to him.  He swallowed, nearly choked.  Irena Pestchouroff narrowed her eyes as though she had seen something that interested, even amused her.   She then looked at Adam, her blue eyes were twinkling at him,

 

“Captain, why not stay a little while here.   You are a handsome man, and -”

 

“-and I have to leave as soon as I can.” Adam replied, getting to his feet and smiling at her, but she grabbed his hands in  hers and smiled up into his face which caused the Captain to blush a little and caused Jack to smile and glance down at the ground. “Yes, I must leave.  I need to get back to your daughters where I have my men waiting for me.” 

 

She nodded, but the smile remained on her face as she watched him redress in the heavy furs, and when it came to putting on the mukluks she knelt down and insisted on pulling them on to his feet, and then the mittens which made Adam feel even more hot and bothered.   Jack was feeling quite gleeful and would have laughed had he felt less anxious about his role in the whole affair.

 

The ice floe upon which the kayak was balanced was slowly disintegrating and it was with very careful steps that they made their way to their bidarka.    Adam held the nose of it steady while Jack clambered into the front seat and then he got himself seated, took the paddle and pushed free from the ice.

 

“I say, Captain, Madam Pestchouroff was a very beautiful woman, wasn’t she?” Jack ventured.

 

Adam said nothing to that, but plunged the paddle deeper into the water so sending the vessel surging forwards through the cold dark waters.   Jack smiled and hugged himself.   Against his chest he could feel the oilskin package and a disquieting thought trickled through his mind … why had Adam given HIM the package and not kept it himself?

 

The return journey was a beautiful as their venturing forth.   Now the sun had began to sink and the clouds were tinted with pink, a line of gold blazed along the horizon, and the seals basked in its glory.

 

Ice floes were calving free from the larger sections of ice that were floating in the water and these Adam negotiated with all the skill of the expert, turning the kayak left and right, avoiding anything that could have holed it and sent them to a most unpleasant end.   He steered with practised ease while Jack Lawson fretted and worried in the front seat, not only about how safe the journey would be, and about beautiful women, and the oilskin package that was now in his possession.

 

Chapter 36

 

“Captain?”

 

Adam dipped the paddle into t he waters.  The droplets scattered diamonds into the river and for a moment Jack tried to collect his thoughts to put them into words.  Adam continued to paddle, his eyes now fixed to the horizon, and his attention on steering a safe course back to Valentina’s.

 

“Captain - about what happened, I mean, the way things are - you thinking I’m a traitor and -”

 

“Well, I’m not thinking it, Jack, you acted against orders, against your Governments direct orders, you shot a man and intended to take the papers to people acting in opposition to your Government.  What other word describes those actions more suitably?”

 

He didn’t turn his head.  He knew the young man could hear what he was saying for the stillness of the air about them was wonderful, every sound seemed amplified from the splash of the oar into the water, to the scream of the birds above.  He could even hear Jack’s intake of breath upon hearing what he had said.

 

“Can I explain?”

 

“I really wish that you would -”

 

“My family supported the Confederacy during the war.   I - I was the youngest son and by the time I went to fight my father and two eldest brothers were dead and then I was caught in my first battle and put in a prison camp.”

 

“Go on, I’m listening.” Adam steered carefully alongside a rather large ice floe upon which two seals were sun bathing.  They rolled over onto their fat bellies to watch the kayak slide past them.

 

“By the time I got home everything was in ruins.  My life and that of my family had been turned upside down.  The Southern states were reduced to being the poor relation, fed crumbs, treated like beggers.   My sole surviving brother and some friends pledged to keep the flame alight, and - and there are other units of - of men and women willing to fight on for the cause.”

 

“Is it still your cause then?”

 

Jack didn’t reply.  He glanced around him, up at the sky and the ruddy coloured clouds, the reflection of them perfectly in the sea,

 

“Captain, my brother knew about these papers.   He believes that if he could get hold of them it would restore the Confederacy.”

 

“Nothing will restore the Confederacy.” Adam said quietly.

 

“Sir, can I speak as man to man - I mean, not as an Officer speaking to a superior Officer?”

 

“That’s what I thought this was, a conversation between two men -” Adam pursed his lips, manoeuvred a tight left turn and felt the kayak bounce as it hit a projection from the ice floe.  It was not a problem, one that had to be taken into consideration as anything above water usually had the majority of it beneath it.

 

“You wouldn’t know what it’s like being torn apart by the Civil War.  Nevada Territory was hardly involved in it, you weren’t involved in it.  You can’t imagine what it was like for my family -”

 

“I can.  I can imagine it very well, Jack.  My brother and I - it was a big bone of contention between us during the years of the war.   He was all for the South, and I was not,  I was for the Union.  There were times when it seemed as though the Civil War did come to the Ponderosa (oh, how good to let that word roll off his tongue again), times when my Pa must have thought one or both of us were going to  head off to fight.   In Virginia City there were plenty of folk like yourself who had fought and lost, lost everything, they were bitter and sad, came searching for something, anything, that would put their lives back together again.  Your family  had its losses, Jack, but your family were not the only ones.”

 

“And that’s why we need to regroup together, to unite, to reorganise.” Jacks voice shook with emotion as he spoke and Adam stopped paddling, held the kayak still in the water.

 

“Jack, be careful what you are saying to me -”

 

“As man to man, sir -”

 

“Irregardless of that,” Adam said firmly, “Can’t you see that reorganising into a group in order to re-create what has already been fought over  for years, and resulted in misery for thousands, is NOT the way to restore the Southern states to the condition they once enjoyed.  It’s going to take generations for that to happen.  The world has moved on, Jack, you can’t go backwards, and the deaths of  thousands more good men won’t change things.”

 

“But -”

 

“Why do you think Lee and Grant stopped fighting?   Politics perhaps, but the fact is that the South was brought to its knees, and there was too much blood shed, even for them.”

 

The kayak swayed as several seals chose the moment to plunge into the water sending small wavelets to bounce against the boat.   Jack put a gloved hand to his face, and closed his eyes.   Adam waited for a while longer and was about to recommence paddling when Jack began to speak again

 

“Why did you give me the papers?”

 

“It seemed the right thing to do at the time.” Adam replied rather abruptly.

 

“It wasn’t because you trusted me, thought that - that I had a chance to put matters right?”

 

Adam sighed deeply, and now he bowed his head and stared at the surface of the kayak where ripples of water were trickling in a steady stream back into the river.  He shook his head,

 

“I wanted to trust you, Jack.  I need you to feel confident that you can trust me.”

 

“Because you want me to translate the papers?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I could tell you anything - not the truth - I could rewrite the whole thing.”

 

“Yes, you could.” Adam replied calmly, “But I don’t think you will.    Jack, the Southern states need men like you, all those disillusioned men who fought and lost,  they are needed more than ever now.  They need to rebuild, put their energies to work at recreating what was lost not by more bloodshed, but by combined work, united effort.  It may take time, but the way you were going -” he shrugged, “You would have ground them into  dust with nothing left even to hope for.”

 

Jack now shook his head, he thought of his brother, the things that Frank had said so often,  the other men whom he had worked alongside, plotted and planned with over the months before sailing on the Ainola,  all their plans, and hopes, contained in the things written in the papers he now carried close to his chest.

 

“Sometimes,” Adam said suddenly in the soft quietness that surrounded them, “we would have a timber fire.  They could be hard to deal with, damage, loss of lives, difficult to put out.   Afterwards, for a while, small fires would re-ignite in the dry duff and we would have to make sure they were put out before another inferno destroyed even more timber.   They were only small fires but their potential for harm was too great for us to walk away from them.” 

 

“Will you give me another chance, Captain?”

 

“Man to man, yes, every chance in the world.” Adam said sincerely, “But,  I’m not my own man, Jack.  I’m the Captain of my ship, and as such you have to answer for what happened.”

 

“You mean, a court martial?”

 

“I’ll do everything I can to help, Jack.    The fact is that what happened was the result of a well thought out plot.  It was treason, not the impulsive act of a young man who may have been afraid or anxious at that particular moment of time.  I’m sorry, Jack, that’s how it has to be …”

 

He waited for Jack to think over what he had said, knew that it would be hard for the young man but there was nothing else he could do,, Jack had to realise that now, before they went any further.

 

“I understand, thank you, sir.”

 

Adam nodded, there was nothing more he could say, or wanted to say, no Captain wanted a court martial of any of his men, he reflected badly on the discipline of the ship’s company, and on him.  He dipped the paddle into the water and set the craft forwards again.    The sun was beginning to set and there was still some distance to travel before they reached the settlement .

 

……………………………….......

 

Barbara Scott could hear the murmur of voices, the sound of laughter from Joe’s room.   Every Saturday evening for some weeks now she had stayed over night at the Ponderosa.  She had begun to think of this particular room as her own, with just on the other side of the landing the door to Adam’s room.   Sometimes she had tip toed over in the early hours of the morning and walked about the room, touching the clothes and loving his smell that lingered in the wardrobe.   She would sit at his desk, roll the pen he had touched between her fingers, walk to the window and look at the reflection of herself in the darkness.

 

Whether Ben had realised that his prospective daughter in law had developed such a habit she didn’t know.   Nothing had ever  been said.    Now she lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling and closed her eyes.   Tomorrow  she and Peggy would  ride together back to town, to her house, the house she had inherited from her Uncle.   Why had she suggested such a thing?  Was it for the sake of propriety?    Perhaps, after all, she, Barbara, had been raised as a lady, and knew all about proper conduct.  It would not look right or proper for a young girl like Peggy to stay at the Ponderosa on her own.  

 

Was there another reason?  She had to be honest with herself, yet she didn’t want to be, not just yet.  It touched too sensitive a vein within herself.  Peggy was so young and yet so self assured.  Barbara had been raised in a household that had made her more subservient, more willing - no, not that - more compliant to what her elders told her.  It was only when she came here, to Virginia City, and there had been that time when Adam had confronted her Uncle, defied him, challenged him, that she had realised she could be a person in her own right.   She could be strong.  She closed her eyes.  Yes, she could be strong.

 

She needed to get to know Peggy, and through her get to know Laura to whom Adam had once been engaged.    Peggy would go home with her  … she sighed, and then she would get to understand and know a little more about the man she loved.

 

Peggy finished reading a chapter of the book that Joe had selected, and placed it on the side table by the bed.   She looked thoughtfully at Joe and her smooth young brow crinkled thoughtfully,

 

“I do wish you could get up, Joe.   It seems so miserable for you to be there in bed all this time.”

 

“It is miserable, pumpkin, but there’s nothing I can do about it.” Joe shrugged, grinned, “I’m glad you came by to see us, Peggy.  How long will you be here for?”

 

“A few weeks.  I promised to go back home to Mama and Uncle Will, for a little while.” she sighed and then smiled, “I’ll see you in the morning, Joe.   I guess I shall be going back to town with Miss Scott in the afternoon.”

 

“It’s best.” Joe said, “Barbara’s only thinking of you, she has your best interests at  heart.”

 

“I’ll  ride over on Monday though -”

 

“Sure, you can do that,” he laughed.

 

“Good night, Joe.”

 

“Good night, pumpkin.”

 

She closed the door behind her and walked to the room  that had been provided for her.  For a moment she hesitated and glanced over at the door of another room further along the landing.  Adam’s room.  Opposite was the door to Barbara’s room and a sliver of light from the bottom of the door indicated that the woman was still awake.   With a sigh Peggy opened the door to her room and closed it behind her.

 

Chapter 37

 

O’Brien was very prompt in coming forward to shake Adam by the hand and greet him, almost pulling him into the environs of Valentina’s home.  Rostov, more in the background, nodded and smiled his pleasure at seeing their safe return, although he cast Jack a dour look.

 

Valentina disappeared to prepare food and drink, firing questions about her mother, and the journey and again about her mother.  It seemed to Adam a rather pleasant welcome back and he discarded his outer clothes with a sense of some well being and achievement.

 

“How did he behave?” O’Brien asked Adam quietly, standing with his back to Lawson, and his head lowered, close to that of the other man.

 

“Very well.”

 

“I was worried that he’d try to harm you in some way, I still think you would have been wiser taking Rostov or myself.”

 

“Perhaps.” Adam nodded, pulling off his mukluks, “But at least he talked more freely and I was able to see why he did what he did, it all helps.”

 

“Helps?  Helps who?”

 

“All of us.  Everyone.  Cause and effect, Daniel -” he looked at his friend thoughtfully with his dark eyes and then slowly smiled, and placed a kindly hand on his arm, “He’s not as strong as you are, emotionally, I mean.   He got himself into an awkward situation and now, perhaps, he may be able to find himself a way out of it.”

 

“But he -” O’Brien paused as Valentina approached them with a wide smile and bright eyes as she looked at Adam, handing him a hot drink laced with something alcoholic.

 

“Valentina, our young friend’s shoulder -” Adam indicated Jack who was standing rather forlornly near the entrance, “It may need some attention now.”

 

“Did you get the papers?”

 

“Yes, I got them.   Irena speaks fluent English, a very lovely woman.” he smiled thoughtfully and then looked over O’Brien’s shoulder   “Jack, pass over the package please.”

 

Jack handed it to Rostov  who walked over and gave it to Adam.  Together the three of them opened it and removed the papers it contained.

 

“There’s nothing here that makes any sense to me whatsoever,” Rostov groaned.

 

“Nor me.” O’Brien sighed and frowned, “I don’t suppose it matters whether or not we understand them anyway.  We were only told to collect them, and Irena -” he paused, “You left her there?”

 

“I had no choice but to do so.” Adam replied, and looked over at Valentina and Jack with a slight frown, “Sometimes people of a certain disposition just turn their faces to the wall - you know what I mean?”

 

“Not exactly.  You mean they give up on life?”

 

“Yes.  They give up on life.   Perhaps they feel everything they loved and cared for has gone,  and there’s no point in carrying on anymore.”

 

“But that’s not true of her, she has a daughter here and friends … people who depend on her.”

 

“Yes, that as well, “Adam sighed,  shrugged and grimaced after taking a sip from the cup.  “What is this stuff?”

 

“From what I can make out it’s similar to vodka,”  O’Brien grinned, “It’s best not to take too much of the stuff.”

 

Adam now returned his attention to the papers and pointed to several that were maps with significant markings on them

 

“I wonder what they’re there for,”  he frowned, “And this -” he scanned it “looks like a list of names.”

 

He rubbed his face and passed his hand over the back of his head, sweeping it down to the nape of his neck and then he stretched a little before turning to Jack who was smiling gratefully at the girl for tending his wound,

 

“Jack, come here if you please.”

 

Rostov stepped back to allow the younger man passage through and Jack stood obediently by his Captain’s side, and looked down at the papers.

 

“Shall I write down a translated copy, Sir?”

 

“No.” Adam shook his head, “No,  there’s no need for that, just cast your eyes over them and tell me what it concerns.”

 

“Well,” Jack picked up several pieces of paper, “These are names, some addresses.  Private individuals.  Some companies.”

 

“What sort of companies?”

 

“It’s hard to say, some -” he paused, and looked at another page, turned it over to check that what he was reading was correct and then shook his head, “Russian names and companies, and the names of people and contacts in America, Canada and parts of Europe.” he put some pages down and glanced at another “These are names too,  just labelled Contacts - Private -” he glanced up “Do you want to know the names of these people?”

 

“No, that isn’t any of our business.  It will no doubt mean more to the relevant parties in Government than to us.” Adam said quietly, “What about the maps?”   he paused, frowned when there came no answer “What’s the matter?”

 

“It’s just that - my brother’s name is written here, and -”

 

“And?” O’Brien prompted.

 

“That the Russians were paying money to American individuals.  My brother, possibly to these others as well.”

 

“Informants, agitators, perhaps?” Adam raised his eyebrows, “What do you think?”

 

“I can see why the Government wants these papers.” O’Brien said thoughtfully, his brow furrowed and biting his bottom lip, he shook his  head, “What else is there, Jack?”

 

“The maps - these markings indicate that there are minerals found there.  Gold, silver - lots of gold.”

 

“I heard a rumour, or rather my father did that there had been gold found - about 1861 I believe, on the Strikine River.”  Rostov muttered.

 

“That’s here.” Jack pointed to the relevant spot and looked up at Adam, “It could be another Comstock.”

 

Adam smiled slowly,  what, he wondered, did this youth know about the Comstock Lode,  that had already passed into folk lore.  He picked up the papers and folded them in half, slipped them back into the oilskin and bound them.  

 

“Well, at least now we know what the Government wants them for …   lists of names and the whereabouts of  gold which will make the purchase of Alaska all worthwhile, eventually, when they let the people know about it.  Although I rather think they’ll let folk find out for themselves.”

 

“It seems rather a paltry discovery after all we’ve gone through,” Rostov muttered, and spat into the flames of the fire.

 

“Well,  men have gone through much worse for less.” Adam said quietly, “We just obey orders, Rostov,  and are not here to question them.” he placed a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder and smiled, “We’ve done what we’ve been asked, and can now relax a little, get some sleep and set off for the Ainola tomorrow morning.”  he watched as the other man nodded, smiled in agreement and went to sit down in the place he had obviously marked out as his own.

 

Jack was still looking as though he was trying to work out the Sphinx’s riddle, staring into space and looking distressed to the extent that O’Brien approached him,

 

“What’s wrong?   Is there something more significant about those papers that you’ve not told us?”

 

“No, I’ve told you what was there, it’s just that -” he raised a hand to his brow and rubbed at his temple as though there was a pain there that had to  be rubbed out of existence, “My brother has a good position in Government, not high up I mean, but able to find things out -”  he looked at Adam who was watching him thoughtfully, “All his talk about re-establishing the Confederacy, and -” he shook his head again, walked to the far wall and slowly slid down to a sitting position, “He’s a traitor, he’s been taking Russian money.   He made me a traitor - me?   I thought it was for our family, and honour but it wasn’t, it wasn’t that at all, it wasn’t.” and with a sad sob from deep in his throat he bowed his head and buried them in his hands.

 

Adam placed a hand on O’Brien’s chest to prevent him going to the other man, he nodded slowly as though acknowledging O’Brien’s motives but whispered that it was probably better to leave him alone, to let him work a few more things out for himself.

 

Valentina came now with a wide smile on her face, in her hands bowls of food which she carried to the table,

 

“Come - we eat now, we drink some more - huh?  Is that not good?  That afterwards we sleep.”

 

Chapter 38

 

They ate the food that Valentina provided them and Adam,  who was now beginning to realise that both he and Jack were resembling a couple of skunks at an Old Ladies tea party, politely asked Valentina is there was any opportunity for some hot water to bath in.   This was greeted with muffled laughter from O’Brien and Rostov, who, for reasons of their own had to look away as their Captain and colleague cast a questioning glance at them.   Even Valentina tittered quite prettily into her cupped hands.

 

“It’s just that -” Adam shrugged, gestured and looked as forlorn as a new born calf, and Valentina bowed her head and giggled again.  “No bath then?  No hot water?” 

 

“We tried that ourselves,” O’Brien said eventually, “Couldn’t stand our own smell after a while and decided a good bath was just what was required but I’m afraid that they don’t provide such facilities.”

 

“No, Cap’n,  not a tin bath in the place.” Rostov chuckled.

 

“But you two don’t smell too bad,” Adam grinned and looked at them as though he knew they were pulling his leg, but O’Brien shook his head,

 

“These are tough people, Captain -” he said gravely as he leaned forwards for this rather ’personal’ conversation, “even babies are bathed daily.”

 

“So? There you are -” Adam glanced from one to another and then frowned, “what else ?”

 

“Every day in the sea.”

 

“In the sea?” Adam sat up straight and his eyebrows shot up “In the sea?”

 

“They break an ice hole and dip them in, rub them over with snow and that’s the daily bath.   They’d expect their visitors to do the same,” O’Brien sighed, “It’s hard, but -”

 

“Did you?” Adam narrowed his eyes, and looked at Rostov and O’Brien who both shook their heads.

 

“It was too cold for us,” O’Brien admitted, and glanced over to Valentina who was giggling again, “We just stripped down at the back of the house and rubbed snow over ourselves.  That was cold enough …”

 

Three pairs of eyes now looked straight at Adam expectantly.   Even Jack was smiling now, although the same procedure would be expected of him as of his Captain.  Adam frowned,

 

“Outside in the snow?” he queried.

 

“The men and women here run down to the sea and jump in every day.   They’re used to it from birth,” Rostov nodded his head as though having gone through the ordeal earlier himself he was now an expert hand at it.  “It’s very -” he glanced at O’Brien who nodded encouragement, “invigorating.”

 

“You are serious, aren’t you?   I mean, I have brothers at home who would pull this kind of stunt on me.”

 

“Honestly, Cap’n, cross my heart and hope to die.” Rostov  said.

 

Adam looked at Jack and then Valentina, then at Rostov and O’Brien.   One thing he hated more than anything was being cold.  Adam Cartwright could handle starvation,  Indian war parties, and a whole host of other things most humans would not wish to encounter, but being cold !   This whole assignment had been something of an ordeal for him,  and the thought of going out, to strip down to the buff and then have a rub down with snow was far from appealing.  He curled his lip in disdain, and wondered if he could survive a night smelling as bad as he did.

 

“I go get you blankets.” Valentina cried and jumped to her feet, obviously quite confident in the Captain’s desire for a ‘bath’.

 

“Well - er - ummm”  Adam rose to his feet and shivered at the thought of leaving the rather stuffy (and smelly) environs of the big room,  but Jack was also getting to his feet with a look of determination on his face.   They both hesitated slightly at the doorway, before Adam strode out with a look of utter misery on his face.  He could hear the laughter from inside the dwelling, and that made him feel even worse.

 

And it was freezing.

 

And it was far from invigorating.

 

As the freezing air enveloped his warm and smelly flesh Adam thought his last hour had come,  the cold seemed to burn his lungs and throat as he breathed, just as the snow scoured his flesh as he rubbed it vigorously over his body.   But by the time he stepped back into the dwelling and picked up the blanket he was feeling very much warmer.   The warmth of the room now seemed claustrophobic and overpowering.   He exhaled sharply and slowly lowered himself into a sitting position.

 

“Invigorating, huh?” Rostov grinned and Adam could not restrain himself from throwing back his head and laughing, the deep laughter of a man happy, as the expression goes, within his own  ‘glowing’ skin.

 

………………….

 

They drank more of Valentina’s concoction than was probably wise, and eventually fell asleep.   Adam, who had drank far less, listened to their heavy breathing and snoring, and made plans for the return journey to the Ainola on the following morning.     He lay with his arms folded behind his head, forming a natural pillow upon which he rested.  There was so much to think over … the papers, the fact that there was at least one other opposer on board ship who was receiving funds from the Russians .   He thought over the implications as to why, and had to ponder on the fact that the world was rapidly changing, America had come through a difficult time with the Civil War behind them, it was now a united country, big and powerful.  Russia, also a country that covered enormous territories, was emerging  as a power in its own right.   Politics, which Adam chose not to get involved in as much as possible, would indeed necessitate that these two emerging world powers would want to know what was happening in the opposing camp.  No doubt there were papers in Russia with names of Russians being paid by the Americans.   But it was all so sordid.  Adam thought a little more about the why’s and wherefore’s of the situation into which he had been cast.   Why had Pestchouroff given the papers to Irena?  Was it because he had no one else to whom he could entrust them, had he been caught with them without the time to destroy them?   Irena had refused money for them, willingly handing them over to him.  But why?  Was it because she was so bitter, so angry at the way her family and country had wiped their hands off of her?  Was this her form of revenge, of retaliation?

 

And what was he to do about Jack Lawson?   Had he left the young man on board ship instead of bringing him along with them, the whole thing would have been avoided.  He sighed deeply, Rostov could speak good enough Russian to get by with the Inuit, and he had brought Lawson because of what that letter had said and he, Adam, always felt safer having his enemy closer. 

 

He eventually fell asleep.   The warmth of the room  enfolded them all and wrapped them into the arms of Morpheus.

 

 

Chapter 39

 

Valentina provided them with mukluks, the heavy wolverine fur lined coats with the big hoods and the mittens.   With plenty of giggles and nodding of head she helped push the big fur lined boots onto their feet, and laughed when they refused to ‘lard up’.

 

It was spring time, and there was a softening of the air.  The wind had died down and the sun was there in the sun, just there, not doing much with regard to warming things up doing what it could in such a frozen environment.

 

Their sled had been examined by several of the Yu’pik, it had provided them with much amusement as they stood and shook their heads and pointed at this and that so that in the end they purchased a sled and 6 dogs from Valentina’s future husband, who also promised, for a fee, to take them to the Ainola.   Obviously Valentina’s Russian sense of enterprise had been a strong influence upon him.

 

The larger sled was now loaded with their possessions, the runners, made from whale bone, was examined by Rostov who didn’t think they were any better than the ones he had formed from good solid oak.   The dogs, impatient to set off, were paddling the ice with their paws and yipping and whining as though to say ‘Come on, hurry up’.

 

So they set off, five cumbersomely clad men.  Nanuq was on the back of the sled and had the advantage of moving far more swiftly, but the four Americans had a good trail to follow and with their warmer clothing,  more suitable footwear, managed a steady walk through the snow.

 

Despite the sorry lack of warmth from the sun there had been a change in temperature, it was hardly discernible to them but the ice was thawing, pack ice on the rivers formed the greatest danger to any traveller now, even the Inuit people knew the need to exercise great caution knowing from experience how often the snow covered ice would crack open and send them plummeting to their death.

 

The sun indicated that they had reached noon, and Adam noticed that Nanuq had stopped and was waiting for them.  He had cut a hole in the ice and was leaning against the sled with a line trailing from his hands that was fed into the hole, he wore the pleasant smile of an angler anywhere in the world as he waited for his ‘first bite’.

 

The dogs were feeding on the raw meat he had flung down for them.  As the four men approached he looked over at them, nodded, smiled and then resumed his watch over the hole in the ice.

 

Raw fish was not the usual ration for hardy American sailors, O’Brien off loaded his meal within minutes of eating it, and Jack just picked at the flesh of the poor creature that had been only minutes earlier happily swimming in the water beneath their feet.

 

They continued onwards, managing a far better pace in returning to the ship than their leaving it.  Adam found himself tingling with an impatience to be on board, to set sail and to return home.  As he trudged through the endless whiteness of their landscape he thought of the Ponderosa and his family.  He wondered what they would be doing now,  the cattle drive would be over of course, the timber would have to be checked out, there would be new calves to be checked over and branded.  What was Barbara doing?  He thought of her and realised that the memory of her face was no longer as sharp and clear in his mind as it had previously been.  It hardly mattered, he told himself, he would soon be home.

 

O’Brien nursed the empty hole of his stomach, he was hungry, the raw fish that he had vomited up had only emphasised how hungry and now his stomach grumbled and growled and made walking thoroughly unpleasant.  

 

The sled was slowing ahead of them, and Nanuq was turning to face them, his arm raised.   A warning of danger as they hastened their pace to reach him.   He spoke briefly, the ice further was dangerous, breaking away, they would have to go in another direction, northwards.

 

Rostov translated and did so with a scowl in his voice. He looked at Adam

 

“He could be lying, Captain.”

 

“I don’t think so.” Adam replied, with his eyes on the dogs who were showing less eagerness to step forwards.  He noticed how the lead dog kept turning towards Nanuq as though it had no intention of going forwards.

 

So they swung towards the North, heads that were covered by the thick wolverine hoods lowered against the wearying coldness.   Their legs were becoming shaky as the muscles and tendons were stretched to their limit in striding forwards to keep the sled at least in sight.

 

“What’s that?”  O’Brien said and pointed to dark shapes approaching them.

 

“Another sled -” Rostov mumbled, “More Inuit, hunting party more than likely.”

 

Adam looked to where the shapes were like black spectres against the whiteness.  Two men dressed in the same shapeless clothing moving faster towards them as the sled they were on sped over the surface of the snow pulled by their dogs.  He wished their sled was closer for there he had several rifles hidden away and every instinct within him cried out that those rifles were needed.  There was something so intimidating about the approaching sled that the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

 

All imagination, he told himself, they are what Rostov said, an Inuit hunting party, nothing more.  They would think that they were the same, just more Inuit, and they would pass by, on their own journey.  He put his head down and forced himself to step forward to where Nanuq and the sled continued onwards.  Within his pocket, deep under the heavy jacket was his pistol, and he now carefully and slowly reached for it, transferring it to the pocket of the jacket.

 

Onwards came the other sled and now it was possible to make out the features of the men approaching them.   The driver, with the reins in his hands and his feet on the running board was obviously Inuit, and a familiar one at that, for they recognised their old friend Yumik.   The man seated on the sled was a good looking man, sallow skinned, dark haired, with a neatly trimmed beard.

 

Adam glanced from them to where Nanuq had stopped some feet further along, his face turned towards them.  He had obviously been surprised to see the other sled, there was a look of confused puzzlement on his face, a look similar to one Hop Sin g would have worn had he found a spider in his pork roast.

 

The four men stopped and watched as the oncoming sled came to a halt.  Yumiq, with an air of patronising benevolence looked at them with a twisted smile on his lips while the other man stepped from the sled and stood upright with an elegance that proved his familiarity with that mode of travel.  He shook his long  shuba (fur coat) as though it was of the utmost importance to keep it free of creases and then looked up at them and smiled.

 

“Capitan Cartwright?”

 

Adam stepped forwards cautiously and then stopped, mid way between this man and his own men.   He watched the other man as he pulled off his mitten and extended his hand,

 

“I am Count Alexei Lebedev.  I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.” and he gave a curt formal bow.

 

“Adam Cartwright, sir.” Adam replied and stepped forward sufficiently to accept the elegant hand held towards him.   The other man’s hand grip was surprisingly firm, strong contrary to the limp touch that he had anticipated for the man looked more suited to a ball room than the frozen wastes of Alaska.

 

“I have just left the woman, Irena Pestchouroff - ah, I see from your face that you anticipate my mission.” he smiled, firm white teeth gleamed within the neatly trimmed beard.  “I am sorry, I was delayed on my journey otherwise you could have been spared the trouble, Capitan, of coming all this way for nothing.”

 

“Nothing?” Adam frowned as though he found the other man’s remark surprising.  “I don’t think I would call it for nothing.”

 

“Ah, of course not.”  Alexei raised his shoulders in an extravagance of a shrug

“But you see, you have taken from Madame Pestchouroff that to which she had no right to give to you.”

 

“Now I apologise to you, Count, whatever Madame Pestchouroff gave me is now the property of the American Government.  I fear your journey is the one that has been wasted.”

 

“I have little time to waste with words, Capitan.” a slight frown broke the pale and smooth brow of the Russian, “I came here to bargain a little with you, sir.”

 

Adam said nothing but regarded the other man with the same air that he would have looked at a rattlesnake that had crept from its rock and threatened him.  He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows,

 

“A bargain, sir?”

 

“Yes, of course.  The papers you have - you can not read them, can you?” there was a smooth genial smile, the Russian gestured as though he apologised for having to ask such a banal question but needs must.

 

“True enough, I can’t read them.” Adam replied with sincere dark eyes fixed on the other mans face.

 

“Then -” another extravagant gesture as Alexei swept his hands wide “What use to you are they?  In the cause of good fellowship why not let me have them back.  They were Russian property, you understand?   Madame Pestchouroff acted too hastily in handing them to you.”

 

Again Adam pursed his lips.  He glanced over Alexei’s shoulder to see Yumik’s complacent smile.  He wondered, fleetingly, whether Irena was still alive, or had this smooth talking handsome young man seen to her swifter end than the one she had ever envisaged.  Or perhaps - he bowed his head - perhaps that was what she had expected, had known and anticipated and he, too complacent and too naïve in the way of politics and Governments, had not realised.

 

“How was Irena Pestchouroff when you left her, sir?” he asked.

 

“Madame Pestchouroff -” Alexei grimaced, the handsome mouth turned downwards, the dark eyes narrowed, he shook his head, “Come, you need not worry about Madame anymore.”

 

“That could mean one of two things -” Adam murmured.

 

“Oh, you Americans, so sentimental.  Yes, she was a beautiful lovely woman and cousin to Count Pestchouroff, a good friend of mine, who would like the return of his property which Madame stole from him.”

 

“I’m sorry,  as I said to you earlier, the papers are in my possession and as such have become the property of the American Government.  They are not mine to hand over to you.”  his voice hardened, was deep and brittle, and his lips tightened over his teeth.

 

Alexei frowned more deeply, and once again raised his hands expansively before him,  he smiled,

 

“But, Capitan, you do not understand -”

 

“Count Lebedev, you are hardly in a position to bargain.” Adam turned his head slightly as though to remind Alexei that there were three other men behind him,  that he had the advantage over the Russian, and then he shrugged, “Now, excuse me, we need to move on before the sun sets.”

 

Alexei said nothing, his eyes met Adam’s, held for a fraction of a second. He inclined his head and without a word turned back.  His feet made deep indentations in the snow,  his shuba trailed behind him, collecting snow, and then he sat back into the sled, pulled the fur cover over his legs and with a single word to Yumik, moved away.  The sled sped away across the snow, sending a faint mist of snow drifting in the air towards the tall American who watched him go with a growing gnawing suspicion in his mind that they would meet again.

 

Chapter 40

 

For a while Adam stood very still, with narrowed eyes he watched as the sled bearing Count Lebedev was swept away towards the snow white horizon.  He was so deep in thought that he failed to realise that O’Brien was standing at his side until his arm brushed against his first officer.

 

“That’s a black hearted devil and no mistake.” O’Brien muttered, he looked at Adam and raised his eyebrows, “Do you think Madam Pestchouroff is safe?”

 

“He did say ‘was’ in reference to her, Daniel, I rather fear that she is beyond our concerns now.” Adam replied in a tone of voice that caused Daniel to look once again at his Captain and to notice the sharpness of the cheek bones and the thinned lips over the fine teeth.  He sighed,

 

“I’m sorry -”

 

“Get the rifles out from under cover, make sure they’re loaded and ready for use.  I don’t think we have seen the last of our visitors yet.” Adam replied, cutting through anything else O’Brien may have wished to say, “We carry them at all times.  Including Nanuq” he tapped O’Brien on the arm as though to hurry him up and the other man turned instantly and hurried towards the sled.

 

His place was almost instantly taken by Lawson who saluted Adam formally and asked for permission to speak,

 

“Rostov and I have been talking to Nanuq, rather, listening to what he has to say.  He said Yumik is not know for being a peaceable man, he’ll have many of the Inuit lined up ready for a fight.  He’s frightened.”

 

“Oh - really?” Adam looked at Jack, pursed his lips and turned to scan the horizon upon which the sled was now a small black mark moving at some speed.

 

“He thinks we should stay here and build ourselves a barricade.   We’re out in the open here, we won’t stand a chance -”

 

“We move on.   Tell Nanuq to take us the safest route to the Ainola, the closer we are to the ship the better.  We have -” he glanced up at the sky and sighed, “we have several hours of daylight yet, we had better make good use of them.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Jack saluted again and Adam watched as he walked away.

 

It occurred to him that Nanuq was not the only man to be afraid.  Jack was no doubt wishing he were on board ship now, safe and secure in his cabin.  Or perhaps he wished he were at home with his family, then Adam remembered that Jack’s family were about to be faced with the trauma of having the elder brother arrested for treason and Jack - well, Adam shrugged, one would have to see.

 

Nanuq was sullen, his face grave and the eyes dark and wary when he reached the sled.  The rifles were handed out, checked over and loaded.

 

“Ask him how long it would take for him to build a decent barricade.” Adam asked, slinging the rifle, with some difficulty over his wolverine coat.  The clothing was warm but cumbersome.  Everything, he groaned inwardly, was different from what he was used to - no familiar landmarks, no rocks and boulders behind which to hide, even the sun seemed a stranger.

 

“He said not long.”

 

“Good.  Let’s walk for as long another hour.  Then we dig ourselves in, make camp, have something to eat and drink.  I want a watch kept throughout so we’ll take four hour duty.  Let’s go.”

 

Nanuq made sure he kept the dogs at walking pace so that the sled and the four men would be close to him.  As Rostov said, it was not as if anyone could attack them by surprise here where everything was flat and smooth, and snow covered.

 

……………

 

“Miss Scott, may I ask you a question?”

 

They were travelling back to Virginia City in the buggy that Barbara hired for her week ends at the Ponderosa.  Peggy’s horse trotted behind them on a leading rein tethered to the back of the vehicle which bounced along the uneven road at a jaunty pace.

 

“What is it, Peggy?”

 

“Did Adam ever tell you about my mother?”

 

Barbara took in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly,  she kept her eyes fixed to the horses ears and the road ahead,

 

“Yes, he did.”

 

“Did he tell you how he loved her?”

 

Barbara blushed a little, and swallowed a lump in her throat.

 

“Peggy, there are some questions young ladies do not ask.  Such a question could be viewed as very impertinent.”

 

“I’m sorry.”  Peggy bowed her head.  It seemed nothing she said or did made Miss Scott happy, always scolding, such a prim school teacher.  She twisted the ribbons on her bonnet which was in her lap.

 

“Don’t fiddle with your bonnet, Peggy, you’ll spoil it.”

 

“Yes, Miss Scott.”

 

They rode on in silence for a while longer and Peggy heaved a sigh.   She thought of Joe who had laughed and joked with her, chatted about this and that, even discussed the relationship between Laura and Adam quite openly.  It seemed only this formidable young woman, whom Adam was going to marry, didn’t want to speak to her about anything at all.

 

“Miss Scott, without meaning to be impertinent at all, did Adam tell you about my daddy?” she glanced at the other woman and noticed how she seemed to relax a little, and being a discerning young lady she realised that Barbara was frightened, a little fearful, of discussing Adam’s previous loves.

 

“Yes, he did.  He said your father died in a riding accident.  He took a fence and the horse fell.”

 

“My daddy,” Peggy said quietly, twisting one of the flowers on her bonnet, “really loved me.  He loved me so much.  He was always telling me he loved me and that I was special to him.  He didn’t love mother.  She was always scolding and crying.  That’s really all I remember about mother - crying and scolding.  Until Adam came along that is …” she glanced hastily at Barbara then, and to her dismay realised she had pulled one of the flowers off of her bonnet.  She hastily attempted to fix it back in without Barbara seeing it and giving her another telling off.

 

“That must have been hard for you all.  Your mother was very  young when she married your father -” Barbara looked down at the girl and felt a softness in her heart for her, a pity for a girl who had grown up in an unhappy home.

 

“I know she was, but she was awful silly.  Daddy didn’t love her after a while and then he died.  I so wanted him to come home.   I wonder if the swing is still in the garden.”

 

“The swing?”

 

“Yes, the swing in the garden at my home.   I used to sit there for  so long.  It faced the road and I would sit and count waiting for daddy to come home.   It was after he died that Adam came to visit mother.  I hated him.”

 

“Hated Adam?  How could you possibly hate Adam?” Barbara sounded shocked, so much so that even when she looked at Peggy she didn’t notice the way she was pummelling her bonnet.

 

“He saw daddy die, and he came and told us about it.   Then he kept coming round to see us.  I thought he was taking daddy’s place.” she frowned, “Then one day he came with a pony and took me riding.  He made me realise daddy was never coming home again.”

 

“Did that upset you?”

 

“Yes.  I didn’t -” she stopped, and sighed.  The flower was back in among the posy on her bonnet and she was back there, on the pony looking down at the graveyard and seeing that headstone. 

 

Again they were silent and the horses jogged along, tossing their heads, making the harness jingle.

 

“Things changed and mother was happy.  I got so that I loved Adam.  I promised him that one day I would come home a young lady and marry him.” Peggy laughed as though the idea even amused her.

 

“He’s far too old for you, Peggy.” Barbara smiled.

 

“I know that, but -” she looked down and smoothed the ribbons flat against her lap, “I never call Uncle Will anything but Uncle, the only other person I could think of as my daddy was Adam.   But if he’s marrying you then he’ll never be my daddy now, will he?”

 

“He would hardly be able to be your daddy now anyway, Peggy.  That’s silly talk.”

 

“I guess so.    Mother and Uncle Will are very happy.  She has the other children and does all the things ladies do …” she frowned, “She didn’t love Adam like I did, or like you do I suppose.” she looked rather doubtfully at Barbara, and then looked at the horses and the road ahead.

 

They lapsed into silence again, both deep in thought .  Neither realising the other was thinking about the same person.   Virginia City started to appear and the horses began to speed up as though anxious to get to their stalls.

 

“Will you get married as soon as he gets home?” 

 

“Perhaps.” Barbara replied with a smile and a soft blush on her cheeks.

 

“Didn’t you ever meet anyone else to love and marry before then?”

 

There was a chill in the air, Peggy shrunk back, and whispered ‘Sorry’ and hung her head.  Barbara said nothing for a while and then looked at her companion with a smile,

 

“There were others, I did have other proposals from some ‘significant others’, but I had duties, responsibilities.  Sometimes one can dream of doing things, going places but they just remain dreams, Peggy.   My parents expected me to support them and I did the best I could.  Oddly enough I never loved any man as much as I love Adam.” she smiled at Peggy then and her eyes twinkled, “So, you see, being an old maid saved me from a fate most miserable.”

 

“You would have been like my daddy and mother, then.  You’d have always been crying and scolding. “ Peggy said in a matter of fact voice, and she looked up at Barbara and smiled, “You look very pretty when you smile, Miss Scott.”

 

“Thank you Peggy, you can call me Barbara.”

 

“Thank you, Miss Scott.” Peggy said and relaxed back into the leather padded seat.

 

They drove down the main street of town and she watched as their reflection passed them by in the shop windows.   People called out to Barbara, waved, acknowledged her by name.  Children ran alongside the buggy

 

“Hello  Miss Scott.”

 

“Have a nice day Miss Scott.”

 

Peggy stopped looking at their reflection in the glass windows and looked about her.   There was Roy Coffee standing on the porch of the Sheriff’s Office, and over there was fat old Widow Hawkins.  Fancy her still being here in Virginia City.   She recognised others as they drove along and sighed

 

“Virginia City sure has grown since I was here last.” she said.

 

“That’s what towns tend to do,” Barbara replied with a smile and drew the horses to a halt outside her house.

 

“I have to send a cable to Mother and Uncle Will.  They would want to know how Joe is getting along.”

 

“Well, it will have to wait until tomorrow.  It’s Sunday after all …” Barbara replied and clambered down , straightened her skirts and lifted a pile of books from the floor.

 

Sunday …. Peggy sighed, thought of Joe Cartwright and felt a twinge of pity for him.  It was so unfair that such a bouncy young man as Joe Cartwright had to be flat on his back while she was here in town.

 

 

Chapter 41

 

Joe Cartwright folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.   The house was very quiet now.  He could hear the sounds of activity below in the yard as they came through the open window, but the sounds were muted as though coming from far away.

 

It had been a strange week-end he thought to himself as he watched a patch of blue sky through the window.  Barbara and Peggy giving him so much attention.  One so caring and gentle, the other so - well - so full of life and easy to be with.   He smiled slowly, how strange that Peggy should come back into their lives again now.  What a funny little thing she had grown up to be.  He sighed, how quiet the house now seemed without her presence and he frowned, and wished that Barbara had not been so insistent on Peggy returning home with her. 

 

They had had so many lovely young ladies staying at the Ponderosa over the years.  No one had ever cast aspersions on their reputations, nor imputed wrong motives as to why they were there.   He noticed a little cloud drifting into his patch of blue and his frown deepened,  it had just been so different having Peggy home.   He had even enjoyed having some of his book read out to him, somehow she had been able to breathe life into the characters in a way that only Adam had ever done before.

 

“Hi, Joe -” the door opened and Hoss came in, a tray of things in his hands which he gently lowered onto the table by the bed, “How’re you doin?”

 

“I’m bored, Hoss.”

 

“Yeah, I guess you would be at that, guess I would be too if’n I were in your position.”

 

“Why did Barbara have to take Peggy back to town with her?   Pa was fine about her staying here until she had to go home.”

 

“Yeah well, you gotta remember Barbara’s bin raised different from us.  She’s a lady and got them proper manners that we don’t.” Hoss frowned and poured out coffee, hauled Joe into a sitting position and plumped u p the pillows before dropping Joe back into them.   There was a definite lack of refined nursing about Hoss’ manner of care.  He poured himself some of the brew and stretched out his legs.

 

“Pa’s wondering why we ain’t heard nothing’ from Adam.  It’s bin some time now, ain’t it?”

 

“He’s always telling us how long it takes for mail to get from a ship to land … remember last time when Adam was gone?” Joe scowled,  sipped the coffee and then grinned, “Big brother sure would be surprised to know Peggy Dayton was visiting, wouldn’t he?”

 

“Even more surprised to see what a fine little lady she’s turned out to be.” Hoss grinned, his eyes twinkled, “Sure caught me by surprise, all them freckles and funny teeth got themselves sorted out real nice.  She’s a proper fine little lady and no mistake.”  Hoss followed this statement by slurping his coffee, “I reckon Barbara wanted her back home with her for company.  They’ll git on jest fine.”

 

Joe sighed, and watched as the cloud covered his patch of blue sky and filled his view with fluffy greyness.  It seemed to sum up everything in his life at that moment … 

 

…………………

 

Nanuq was an expert at building the walls of the primitive hunting lodges of the Inuit, walls of ice and snow which would be used for storing the whale or seal meat, even for protecting the hunters from the blizzards on the rare occasions when they would be caught out in one.   These igloos, not their actual homes, but temporary store areas, served a good purpose.    Now he used his expertise to erect a wall high enough to provide them all with some protection from their expectant attackers.  It took little time to erect as Rostov and O’Brien and Adam soon  learned the technique and helped.  Lawson, with his injured shoulder, kept his rifle on the ready and his eyes constantly scanning for their enemy.

 

The sun was setting, a blaze of oranges and reds that bloodied the snow around them.   Adam remembered the stories of ancient kings who believed that such sights were evil omens, portents of their own deaths.   He watched the sun set, and as it  plunged them into darkness he  longed for the new day to dawn.

 

A cool breeze came out of nowhere about 2 a.m. which brought it’s own misery for the men attempting to get some sleep in their makeshift camp.   When it came to his turn for guard duty O’Brien was quite relieved, anything other than the pretence of trying to sleep, and he took over from Lawson with a smile, a comradely slap on the back.

 

The sun rose bringing with the new day a sense of déjà vu.  Adam scanned the horizon and saw only the endless bleak whiteness stretching out and out to meet the beautifully tinted sky.   He chewed the hard biscuits methodically and ate snow to moisten them.   Ships rations on such a trip as this were basic, and he had visions of his brothers enjoying one of Hop Sing’s hearty breakfasts and the coffee pot being handed around, filling up the pink patterned cups and sending the bitter aroma wafting to their nostrils.   He turned as O’Brien approached him,

 

“Orders for the day, sir?”

 

“Break camp and head for the Ainola.”

 

“Leave the protection of the barricade, sir?” Daniel raised his eyebrows and then shook his head, “Sorry, sir, of course, I’ll get the men to pack up.”

 

Adam sighed, scooped another mouthful of snow into his mouth, and let it thaw and trickle down his throat.   What a miserable existence, he thought, would anyone ever come and settle here?  Would anyone want to build townships among such bleakness?

 

Just suddenly he caught the flicker of movement from the corner of his eye and he scanned the horizon more carefully.   The trouble with so much whiteness and the rising sun was that the effect of it all was blinding, and if anyone came upon them now it would be with the sun behind them, making it difficult for  the Americans to realise as the sun dazzled their eyes.

 

He shaded his eyes with his mittened hands,  and stared too and fro, back and forth.  Then he saw it again, another movement, distinguishable now although some distance away.

 

“O’Brien.   Rostov.  Lawson … get into position. Rifles ready.   Nanuq, here - take your place beside Rostov.    Translate for me, someone.”  his voice punctured the quietness, each word a staccato sound of command.  He heard Rostov’s voice, the Russian words spat out in their urgency.

 

They stood behind the barricade and waited.   The wall, waist high,  was adequate for the purpose, but none of them knew exactly what Lebedev intended, how many would come, how effective a wall of ice and snow would be against bullets.

 

For a while Adam wondered if  he had been mistaken.  Perhaps he also had been afflicted by fear, fear of the unknown quantity, of being out of his own familiar surroundings.    Perhaps he had seen nothing more than the movement of snow which would sometimes roll down a slight slope when the wind caught it.

 

He was about to tell them to relax when the sleds appeared, the dogs yelped and barked.   Dark shapes seemed to swarm from the centre of the rising sun across the snow.

 

Then the sleds stopped, men clambered down from them, dressed in white uniforms,  armed with rifles, and at their head a strutting tall, thin handsome man with a pistol in his hand.

 

“What now?”  O’Brien whispered.

 

“Who knows.” Rostov grunted.  “Nasty piece of works that one…” he growled.

 

The Russians seemed to slither through the snow towards them, their white garments barely discernible against the snow.   The closer they came the more restless the Americans became, waiting for some command from their Captain.  Nanuq gripped his harpoon, and thought he would rather be on the ice tackling a beluga whale than be waiting by this makeshift barricade for the other men to attack them.

 

“Capitan, come, I know how few men you have, you know I have more men here than you.  Why not just throw the papers over to me and then  you can return to your ship unmolested.”

 

“No, Count Lebedev, I can’t do that.”  Adam checked his pistol, spun the cylinder and counted the bullets.

 

“Madam Pestchouroff had no right to take them from her cousin, I was taking back what he wishes to have returned to him.”

 

“And did you leave Madam Pestchouroff in good health, Count?”

 

“Unfortunately the lady seemed in a particular hurry to die.” the Count shrugged, and stepped forward a few more paces, behind him his men approached the barricades with a stealth that was commendable and indicative of the training they had undergone to fight in such conditions.

 

“No further, Count, I warn you.”

 

“Come now, Capitan.” he smiled, waved his hands in an extravagant gesture to indicate the futility of any fighting between them, “Just hand over the papers and we will go.”

 

“After you have given us the same treatment you gave Irena Pestchouroff no doubt.”

 

“Ah pouff, you exaggerate.  There is no point in fighting ”

 

“Then I beg you to return from where you came from, Count, and allow my men and myself to return to our ship.”

 

“You are a fool, Capitan.”

 

“I’ve been called that and worse, Count, by far better men that yourself,” Adam replied coolly.

 

The Count motioned with his hand and his men promptly fell upon their stomachs into the snow, raised their rifles, pointed them at the men behind the barricades.   When the rifles exploded  the four Americans winced, waited to see what impact the bullets would have upon their barrier.  There was another volley and another, bullets passed over their heads as they crouched low and now Adam was commanding them to be up, to fire back,

 

“Fire at will,” he ordered and fired his own rifle without delay.

 

For some minutes the shooting continued, volley after volley.   The sounds of gunfire cracked and echoed through the usually silent plateau, chips of ice flicked from the barrier as the bullets snickered past,  and Adam was wondering whether any of them would survive when the firing from the Russian side ceased.

 

“Stop your firing,” Adam whispered, “Be alert.”

 

Jack’s hands were trembling as he reloaded the rifle, blood trickled from a gash in his cheek, and he wiped it away nervously.   Rostov  was quite coldly reloading his rifle, one eye on the Russian as he did so.  O’Brien was dry mouthed, and took a handful of the snow from the ground to fill his mouth.   He watched Adam who stood up, pistol in hand.

 

“Look, Capitan, this is a foolish thing we are doing.  I could so easily have attacked you when you didn’t expect me to do so.  Now here we are, shooting at one another as though enemies when all I want are a few sheets of paper.   We are not enemies now, are we?”

 

“I don’t seriously think I could consider you a friend of mine,” Adam replied coldly.

 

Count Lebedev sighed, and glanced at his men thoughtfully.  One man was dead, his blood splattered the white mantle of snow upon which he was sprawled.  Several had minor injuries but they, along with the other men, remained steadfast, their rifles pointed at the barricade by which the Americans stood.

 

“Very well, as you wish.” Lebedev sighed, “But remember, Capitan Cartwright, the blood of your men will be on your hands.”

 

Adam’s dark eyes widened as though he didn’t like being reminded of any such thing.  He looked at his three men, at Nanuq, and then shrugged, shook his head, and waited.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 42

 

Rostov was the first to fall.   The resumption of gun fire had gone on for  less than five minutes when the bullet struck him and soundlessly he fell to the ground, clawed at his throat and in silence passed away.

 

It was Jack who saw him fall, and his nerve wavered.  He looked wildly about him and longed for a place to which he could run and hide.   In these brief few days he had learned a lot about himself, and one of the worse things was that he was a coward.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced up into Adam’s face, the dark eyes seemed to burn down into his own,

 

“Rostov -” he whimpered.

 

“Keep your eyes in front of you, boy,  you’ve your own hide to worry about now,  not his.”

 

“Ye - e-s, sir.”  he saw the tall man step back and then, hesitantly called to him “Captain, I have to tell you something.”

 

Adam paused, frowned and looked over his shoulder at the young man.   Indecision once again caused Jack to waver, his lips trembled,

 

“Well?  Hurry, what is it?”

 

“Just that - to warn you - there’s another man on board the Ainola, Jeffrey Metcalfe”

 

“Jeffrey Metcalfe?”

 

Jack nodded and then turned his head.   He had betrayed another man.  Life seemed nothing but betrayal nowadays.

 

Nanuq leaned forward and without a word put down his harpoon and took the rifle from the dead man’s hand.   He looked at Adam, met the other man’s eyes, nodded and replaced Rostov at the barricade.

 

O’Brien looked over at Adam and raised his eyebrows.  This, he was implying, is gaining us nothing.  Out numbered, out gunned, out manoeuvred.    When they were as dead as Rostov,  Lebedev would merely step over their bodies and take the papers anyway.  He glanced at Rostov’s body and then at Adam, who merely turned away from his friends gaze and continued to fire at the men under Lebedev’s command.

 

There was nowhere to hide.   The barricade was inadequate.  The wind was blowing up and bringing in a chill factor  that froze their hands and made their fingers clumsy.   Another of Lebedev’s men gave a cry and fell silent.   Several others began to creep closer towards them.

 

“If they’d only stand up.” O;Brien groaned, “It would make things a lot easier.”

 

Nanuq looked at the men for whom he was putting his life at risk and then at the other men who were slowly advancing.   He put down the rifle and when no one seemed to be noticing crept to his sled.   Within seconds he had the dogs roused up and had turned the sled, jumped onto the runners and was skimming his way across the snows surface.

 

“We’re another man short.” O’Brien said with a calmness that belied his feelings, and he aimed, fired and was satisfied in seeing another man fall victim to his markmanship.

 

“Can’t we just give him the papers?” Jack asked in a voice that betrayed his fears and Adam gave him a scathing look that made his face burn with shame

 

“Sure, we could do that, then he’ll come in and kill us all anyway.” O’Brien replied, taking aim once more.

 

“Not if he’s a gentleman.” Jack said, his hands were shaking now and his stomach churning.

 

“He’s already killed Irena, a woman,  do you think he’ll have sympathy for us?” Adam snapped, “Now, stop your nonsense, sir, and use that rifle.”

 

The reproach of his Captain sent shame burning through Jack and he fired off several bullets without thinking to aim.  One hit a mark, and he was emboldened to stand higher to actually pick out targets.  It was his undoing,  a bullet winged its way and pierced through his clothing,

 

He slithered down beside Rostov,  and he closed his eyes upon the sight of blue skies, and his ears to the sound of gunfire and someone calling his name.  Everything was muffled and far away, and the only warmth came from the blood that flowed from his wound. “I’m dying.” he sighed.

 

O’Brien hesitated, unsure whether to continue firing or to go to Jack’s aid.  He looked at Adam who was reloading his rifle, and he noticed how Adam’s hands were shaking,  not from fear, the resolute look on his face prevented one from even daring to think that possible, but from the extreme cold.  O’Brien returned to his place by Adam’s side, and, having picked up Jack’s rifle, set it to one side so that when he ran out of ammunition he could just pick up Jacks.

 

“I’m sorry, Daniel,” Adam said quietly as he leaned forward to squint down the barrel before firing, “This is a sorry place to end one’s life.”

 

“I admit to having preferred where we had our last adventure, sir.” Daniel smiled, his eyes fixed on the advancing men, and on Lebedev, “Warm sun and sandy beaches, that would have been much better than this.” he fired a shot, “If we gave them the papers -” he hesitated, and noticed the vein throb in Adam’s temple, “do you really think they’ll kill us?”

 

“They won’t want us hanging around, will they?”  Adam muttered and then gave an involuntary gasp of pain as a bullet creased his hand, “I must be getting careless -” he muttered and raised the rifle only to hear the click of an empty chamber.

 

“Here - use Jacks.”

 

“If we could just separate Lebedev from his men -” Adam said, his eyes fixed on the Count who kept carefully out of gun shot range.

 

“Captain -”  Daniel fired the rifle, from somewhere there came a muffled groan, he leaned towards Adam and tugged at his sleeve, “Captain, I just want to say, it’s been a privilege to have known you, and to have served under you, sir.”

 

Adam smiled his warmest smile that brought dimples to his cheeks and made his dark eyes gleam, he extended his hand which Daniel shook,

 

“My pleasure and privilege also, Daniel.  You’ve been a first rate Officer and a good friend.”

 

If his throat was tight and the words came out rather mangled he did not feel the need to apologise.  He stood upright, and Daniel by his side, did likewise, they aimed their rifles and fired, and fired again and again.

 

Daniel slumped forward, the rifle fell from his nerveless fingers, and then he slowly slithered sideways to fall across Jacks’ inert body.   Adam knew there was the one bullet left and he fired it, flung the rifle far from him and raised his hands. 

 

“Now - you see -” Lebedev smiled, and stepped forward, he raised a hand to stop the men from firing at the man, the only man left standing behind the shattered barricade, “Such a waste of life, Capitan, such good men,”  he gave an exaggerated sigh, stroked his beard and stepped forward, reaching into his inner pocket as he did so, and withdrawing a silver case from which he extracted a slim cigar, “Do you smoke, Capitan Cartwright?   You are welcome -” he extended the case towards the American , “They are best Turkish, the very best.”

 

Adam looked at the men under Lebedev’s command,  he counted 9 men.  There were several injured, sprawled or sitting in the snow nursing their wounds,  and there were at least 6 dead.   He shook  his head and stared grimly at Lebedev who now walked quickly through the snow towards him.

 

For a moment the Russian stood at the mass of shattered ice that had formed the barrier and then looked down at the three bodies, then he raised his eyes and met those of Adam, he shook his head.

 

“Such a waste, Capitan.” he repeated and struck a match, put it to the cigar and drew on it.   “Now,  the papers.” 

 

Adam said nothing.   He was looking at the sky and thinking of his father,  drawing some strength from the memory of those fierce dark eyes.   Lebedev stepped closer,

 

“Where are they?   In your jacket?  Speak, man.”  he was close enough now to Adam, and with a white lipped snarl slapped the other man across the face, “The papers, give them to me.”

 

Adam turned to look at the Count, his eyes black with smouldering anger and very carefully and slowly he put his hand into the pocket of his inner jacket.   Lebedev smiled,  shook his head as though in contempt and rammed the cigar back into his mouth.  He glanced over at his men, the triumph obvious on his face, he had beaten his opponent, humiliated him, killed his men, had won back the papers.   He blew a perfect smoke ring from his lips and turned as a strong hand gripped his arm and the cold rim of a pistol barrel touched his temple.

 

 

Chapter 43

 

Adam felt the tension in the mans body even through the thick fur coat he was wearing.    A sudden look of fear in the eyes that was replaced by a darkness, as though some inner light had been extinguished.  Lebedev shrugged and shook his head,

 

“This is not the way to play the game, Capitan.” he said in a very soft quite sibilant voice, a slight lift of the shoulders,  “All you needed to do was hand over the papers.”

 

“You aren’t in any position to bargain now, Count.  Just tell your men to put down their weapons and to get on the sleds and move away.”

 

Alexei Lebedev’s lips thinned and his nostrils whitened,  he shook his head, and squared his shoulders.   Looking from him to the soldiers Adam noticed that one or two were now standing, their rifles aimed at him, but obviously uncertain as to what to do.   Very slowly he moved into a position that put Lebedev between himself and the other men.  The Count once again tensed,  now he realised he was caught between the two and he bowed his head as though he had to think upon the matter.

 

“Tell them now, Count.”

 

“Give me the papers and I shall let you go free.”

 

“Do you really think I’d be fool enough to believe that ?” Adam hissed, and he clicked back the hammer of the pistol, “Tell your men to go or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

 

“Nonsense.” the Russian raised  his shoulders.

 

“Are you that willing to put it to the test?”  Adam whispered and the cold metal touched the mans temple again,  “I’d advise you not to do so, Count.”

 

Lebedev frowned, he glanced anxiously at the soldiers all of whom were now standing and watching the two men, some with their rifles raised.  Each of them knew what was happening now, the plea bargaining for a life, but how it would end  and what they should do left them confused and uncertain.   

 

“As for the papers, Count, you can say good bye to them because I’ve not got them.  They went some time ago.”

 

“Went?  Where did they went - er - go?”  the colour flushed up into the other mans face, and his eyes widened,

 

“The Inuit who was our guide -” Adam jerked his head to where Nanuq had been position with the sled, “You may have noticed he left rather sooner than expected.  He had the papers -”

 

Lebedev swore a string of Russian, and in anger he stepped forward, wrenched himself free from the other man’s grasp,

 

“You fool.  You fool.   To let the papers go with him?”

 

The soldiers moved forwards, seeing the Count stepping free and Adam exposed, there were several rifle shots, Adam raised his pistol and aimed but fell before the gun was fired.

 

“You fool,” Lebedev hissed, and cast down the cigar that had been smouldering between his fingers.

 

He strode away from the ice barrier that was slowly crumbling, waving his arms and shouting directions at his men who were now hurrying back to their sleds.   Russian voices shouted across the stillness of the vast white void.  The sleds made a resonant swishing sound as they turned and the dogs barked, baying in excitement at the enticement of leaving the place where the smell of blood was strong to their nostrils.

 

Adam closed his eyes.    It would be so pleasant to die in a warm place, he thought.   He didn’t think he could possibly feel so cold ever again in his life and then he smiled and the thought struck him that when dead he’d not have to worry about the cold .

 

A shot rang out.   It momentarily cut through the barking of the dogs and the voices of men shouting at one another.  Just a single shot that echoed into the frozen stillness.

 

Chapter 44

 

The silence was broken now by the whisper of the wind that sent spirals of snow sifting over the ice like delicate sugar.    There were score lines bitten deep into the ice from the runners of the sleds that had come to that place where death had seen blood spilled upon virginal whiteness.   Now there were other lines that indicated the way the sleds had disappeared, one of which bore the dead body of the Russian Count Alexei Lebedev.

 

Had he under-estimated his enemy?  Had he been too complacent, too relieved perhaps at having gained his freedom to stop to pause a moment longer and to ascertain just how dead those sprawled upon the snow actually were.

 

Now only the blood splattered where he had fallen indicated his passing.   His men had swooped down upon him and carried him away with a swiftness that indicated the depth of their sense of humiliation and despair. 

 

Not even the sound of their dogs disturbed the silence now.  There was only the wind as it sighed across the snow.

 

Someone was rubbing snow into his face, and rubbing with a vigour that, as he came to his senses, indicated the measure of their concern at seeing him sprawled out upon the ground.    He gave a shuddering sigh, and with an enormous effort opened his eyes.   Darkness of the mind was slowly dissipating,  dispersing like a mist as consciousness returned, and feeling trickled through his body, reminding him of the cold as the warm blood seeped down his flesh.    He looked up and saw a smiling face, big black eyes that shone done at him in a broad face with a flat nose, thick lips and dirty broken teeth.  The apparition widened his eyes and nodded, spoke some gibberish and gently brushed the snow from his face.

 

“Nanuq?” he whispered, “You here?”

 

“I-” Nanuq pointed to himself and nodded again.

 

He was squatting on his heels, and now pulled back on the mittens to warm his hands.  He made a big circle with his arm, indicating that he had taken the sled and gone around them, and he nodded, pleased at his manoeuvre.   He rose to his feet, expecting the man to join him, and when he did not he turned with a frown.

 

“Hurt?” He grunted and put his head to one side as though he should have realised that no one just stays flat on their back for no reason. He sighed and shook his head, and helped the American to sit up.  

 

The stain upon the snow indicated where the bullet had entered, and Nanuq shook his head again and said something in his own language, a smattering of Russian, and a quizzical look on his face.   He pointed towards where they had left the village and shook his head, then he pointed in the direction to which they had been heading, towards the Ainola, and nodded.   To his way of thinking it was a shorter distance and would, therefore, take less time to reach the ship.

 

He stretched out his hand and with his help aided the other man to his feet.   Adam staggered a little and then forced himself to stand erect.  For a while he stood looking around him at the signs of the fight,  the blood beyond their barrier, the absence of the Russians.    He then turned to survey those who had fallen on his side of the barricade and with a heavy heart slowly walked towards them.

 

Josef Rostov - carpenter of the ship Ainola.  

 

He knelt beside the man, and reached for some sign of a pulse, some sign of life.  It was obvious there was none, but he knew he would never forgive himself if he did not take the time to make sure.   He stumbled a little as he attempted to straighten out the man’s limbs and make his appearance more dignified.  The man had died for his country.  He was a hero.  He wasn’t just a carpenter he was a hero.

 

He turned then to looked at Jack Lawson.   Officer of the ship Ainola.   Young,  misled, confused, and he remembered how well the young man played the clarinet, and how he had loved music.   He had done something wrong because he wanted to do something right.   In the end he had died for his country.  He too,  was a hero. 

 

He fumbled a little as he checked the young man’s body and confirmed the death.  He, now assisted by Nanuq who had realised what his intentions were, laid Jack out in a dignified manner.   He straightened out the stiffening legs, closed the glazed and blank eyes, wiped away the blood that had frozen on the rigid face.

 

Then he turned to the next body and found he couldn’t get his legs to move.   This was just going to be too hard.   He looked back at Jack and Josef and bit his bottom lip, before stepping forwards towards this other .

 

“I’m so sorry, this isn’t how it should have been,” he whispered and turned the body over onto its back, brushed away the snow from the handsome face and took hold of the limp hand.

 

Nanuq tapped him on the shoulder and mimed the pantomime - he pointed to the body, then to the rifle which had been revealed when turning the body over, for it had fallen beneath him as he fell.   Now Nanuq mimed the man, holding the rifle, aiming in the direction of the Russian beyond the barrier, firing and then falling …  beyond the barrier the Russian had also fallen.

 

The American nodded, he understood.  His head drooped upon his chest and his eyes became moist.   He knelt down beside his Officer, his friend and once again took hold of his hand.   There came a sigh, long and laboured, it seemed to come from right within the depths of the man and his friend stepped back, glanced at Nanuq, and then back again at the man struggling to open his eyes.

 

“Daniel …  ?” he whispered, “Daniel?”

 

 

Chapter 45

 

Adam gripped his friends hand firmly within both of his, for how limply Daniel’s hand lay within his grasp.  How he longed for  some strength, warmth, life to pass from himself to his friend, and he leaned closer towards the young man just in case he missed anything that was to be said, or even that last final breath.

 

“It’s alright, isn’t it, Captain?”  Daniel whispered, a faint smile drifting over his lips and his eyes fixed upon Adam’s face.

 

“Yes, yes, Daniel, it’s alright.” Adam replied and wondered if O’Brien was asking permission to die, or acknowledgement of the Russians death and the safety of the papers.   “The papers are safe, O’Brien, you saved them.”

 

“I did?”  O’Brien’s pale lips twitched, a light shone in his eyes, “Lebedev …   I thought he was going to kill you.”

 

“No,” Adam shook his head, “No, I’m alright.   He’s dead, your last shot -”

 

“Ahh!”  O’Brien gave a slight nod and closed his eyes.

 

For a moment Adam remained kneeling beside his first Officer, and then he released the limp hand and let it drop across Daniel’s chest.  He stood up.

 

“Help me get him onto the sled.”  he said, and gestured as clearly as he could to Nanuq who quickly came to his aid.

 

The mans body was dead weight.  Once Adam stumbled, the pain of his own wound forced a groan from his lips and the Inuit, used to men being of hardy material, gave him an anxious look as he steadied O’Brien by taking the brunt of his weight.  Then Adam nodded, clamped his teeth tightly together and lifted Daniel into his arms.

 

Slowly they carried him to the sled and after removing the ropes that bound their things to the vehicle, they set him down very carefully upon it, securing him with the ropes and then very carefully Adam removed the heavy fur lined coat he wore and laid it over his friend.

 

“We’re going to the Ainola, Daniel.  It won’t be long.  Hold on, dont give up, fight, fight hard.  You have so much to live for, Daniel.”  and the coat was tucked around him, and then Adam stepped back and looked at Nanuq.

 

The Inuit nodded and mounted onto the running board, the dogs felt the reins move and were up and on their feet, yipping and yowling in excitement.  Adam retrieved his snow shoes and tied them with difficulty over the mukluks, then his  mittens which he pulled onto his frozen hands.

 

He walked slowly to where Josef and Jack lay.  There was no possibility of digging graves there, no chance of taking their lifeless bodies on the sled with them.   He pushed back the big hood of his jacket and bowed his bared head, closed his eyes …

 

“Forgive me for leaving you here, I leave you with faces bare to the sky, no sweet earth to cover you, no gay flowers to bloom over you.  Forgive me for bringing you to this end, a cold and miserable one.  Josef Rostov - Jack Lawson - may God forgive you your sins and weaknesses as I pray He forgives me my own.  As you will live on in His memory forever, so will you be remembered in the memories of all who have known you.   Well done, my men, you did well.  You died well.”  his lips trembled, whether from weakness caused by his own pain, or the cold, or the loss of life there before him.   He drew in a deep breath and searched his mind for something more to be said

 

“From too much love of living

From hope and fear set free,

We thank with brief thanksgiving

Whatever gods may be

That no life lives for ever;

That dead men rise up never;

That even the weariest river

Winds somewhere safe to sea

 

Then star nor sun shall waken,

Nor any change of light;

Nor sound of waters shaken,

Nor any sound or sight;

Nor wintry leaves nor vernal

Nor days nor things diurnal;

Only the sleep eternal

In an eternal night.”

 

He paused, glanced about him.   Then whispered the prayer taught so many years before to twelve men by the Greatest Man who ever lived.   He walked to the barricade behind which they had stood and fought, and then summoning up all the strength he could he pushed against the fragile remnants of the  wall, the crumbling breaking snow and ice toppled slowly, fell, and bit by bit covered the men beneath it.

Strength came from despair and desperation, he pushed again and again, until he was fallen upon his knees and his pulses thudded in his ears and the ground was levelled over and no sight of the two men could be seen.

 

Warm blood flowed down the cold skin of his back, and he shivered,  stayed on his knees and raised his face to the sky.  How cold the sun was, no warmth, no warmth at all.   He closed his eyes and for a moment the world seemed to spin about him, round and round it whirled.   He waited until the sensation ceased and slowly rose to his feet.  There was no point in looking back now, what was done, was done.  It was over .

 

 Chapter 46

 

He fell upon his knees and for  a full minute wondered only why he was there, how it had happened and what could he do about it now.  It took a supreme effort of will to force his mind to activate the weary oh beyond weary limbs to raise him back onto his feet.  

 

He forced one step in front of the other, his eyes fixed upon the tracks that the sled had made running always ahead of him.   One moment his teeth ached, then his ears sent pain so excruciating that he had to hold his head between his mittened hands and press hard to stop his head from exploding.  He struggled to bring to his mind the face of his dear father but the only face that floated before him was that of Josef Rostov.

 

He had to stop and stand for a while to catch his breath.  The wind moaned mournfully tossing light snow into the air some of which brushed his face, got into his eyes and into his beard.   His hair fell in wet strands across his brow, and he wondered where he had left his hat.  He looked about him at the fierce beauty of the place in which he now felt marooned.   The sky was glowing pink, an indication that soon the sun would set, that meagre greedy sun that kept all the warmth to itself and would share nothing with those on this freezing continent.   

 

It was silent now.  He couldn’t turn his head, he was so stiff, so cold.   He remembered once when on a wagon trip - he could remember it so clearly because he had been so cold and he had sat huddled close to Ben.

 

“What’s on your mind, son?”

 

The deep voice sounded in his ear and Adam smiled, unsurprised, after all, what better time for a conversation with Pa?   It wasn’t unusual, unknown, for a father to speak to his son when alone, and God knew, no one could have been more alone.

 

“I was remembering things,” he whispered and he smiled as he saw the dark eyes look towards him and a little frown furrow that dark tanned brow,

 

“Remembering?  What were you remembering?”

 

His voice was gentle, as though preparing to listen to revelations that perhaps he would regret hearing later on.

 

“I was remembering when I was very small.  We were travelling through Illinois if I recall rightly, and we were alone.”

 

“That wasn’t anything unusual, we were often alone.”  Ben replied quietly.

 

“It was very cold, and very dark.   You didn’t light a fire.  We hadn’t had a fire for quite some nights.”

 

“It wasn’t safe.  There are worse things to fear than animals in the forests when we were travelling back then.”  

 

Over 30 years ago, a lot had happened.  Cities had grown where there had been wilderness, wild Indians and predatory animals.

 

“I was frightened, Pa.  I clung to you  because I was so frightened that something terrible would come out of the woods and kill you.   At night, under the canvas in our wagon, I would listen to the howling of the coyotes, and the sounds of other animals.  Sounds, all coming together, as though the wood had come alive, more at night than during the day.” 

 

The dark eyes looked at him, and the smile on Ben’s face seemed to shift, shimmer, fade into the ice that towered ahead of him like a jagged finger.  Adam closed his eyes, swayed on his feet, opened his eyes but there was nothing, no one ahead of him, only that ice tower.  He lowered his head, upon the ground were the tracks that led onwards.

 

“I wish I could turn back the clock, Pa.” he whispered through numb lips.  “I’m frightened, because -”  he stopped, his knees were buckling and he told himself to keep walking, “Keep walking, keep going.  One step, two steps, one, two, three, four - Hop Sing can put the stew in the oven and we can have -”

 

He stopped again.  His legs wouldn’t move. He was falling.   He hit the frozen ground and the ice burnt the skin of his cheek, and the snow that had covered it had drifted upwards and fallen back against him, settling like sugar icing upon the dark hair and the dark blue of his over coat. 

 

“Sorry.” he whispered, “So tired.  Cold.”

 

………………….

 

“Cold,” he whispered.

 

“I know, just relax now, Captain.   It’s alright, you’re safe, you’re on board the Ainola.”

 

The voice drifted over his head.  Someone was rubbing his hands between their own and he could hear sounds.  There was the metal clang of something falling onto a metal bowl.  A sensation of warmth trickling through his hands like fire and he tried to withdraw his hands because somewhere deep in his consciousness he knew that soon there would be terrible pain.

 

“Drink this,” someone said with a deep voice.

 

“Pa?”  he knew that voice, he must be home,  he WAS home and Pa was there, he was safe and close by there would be the big fire in the hearth, oh my and there would be Joe chomping on an apple waiting for Hoss to play a game of checkers and …and ….

 

“Is he going to be alright?”  Timothy Masters asked as he continued to rub his Captain’s hands.

 

“I’ll be able to tell you more when I’ve got that bullet out.” the deep voice of the Doctor  muttered as he leaned over his patient, “That dose I gave him will knock him out for a few hours.  It’ll spare him the pain as his body recovers from the cold.  Keep rubbing his hands.”

 

“How’s O’Brien?”  Richard Friend asked as he pulled a thick blanket over Adam’s body.

 

“I’ll be able to tell you that when I’ve had a proper good look at him.  At the moment he’s holding his own.   Thankfully the cold stopped the Captain from bleeding to death.”  Hugh Williamson rubbed his brow,  and shook his head, “Thank goodness Gibbs decided to take some men out to see if they could catch some seals. There would have been no chance for the Captain otherwise.”

 

“The good Lord looks after those with righteous hearts,” Richard murmured, and he sighed as the other two men looked at him in surprise, “that’s what I believe anyway,” he said resolutely.

 

“There’s no denying that,” the doctor smiled and placed a gentle hand on Richard’s shoulder, “Let’s hope He continues to look after him, huh?”

 

There was a light tap on the door and Philip Thomas stepped into the room,  took off his hat and held it against his chest,

 

“How - how is he?”

 

“Alive, thank God.” the doctor said and turned to face the new comer “How’s O’Brien?”

 

“Conscious, sir.  He’s asking after the Captain.   He’s very feverish, Doctor.” Philip replied, stepping closer to look down at the face of the Captain, “He isn’t going to die, is he?”

 

“Who? The Captain or Mr O’Brien?” Hugh Williamson replied, he rubbed his hands, bony hands, thin fingers that always seemed cold.

 

“Both.  Either.”  Philip said softly.

 

“I don’t intend for either of them to die, Mr Friend.” Hugh said and he walked to the door, “As soon as I’ve seen to Mr O’Brien I shall be back.  The Captain should be conscious by then.  I shall need to extract the bullet.   In the meantime, make sure he doesn’t bleed to death, will you?” he smiled, a grimace that barely touched the dark eyes, and then he left the cabin.

 

………………

 

O’Brien was staring up at the ceiling of the section used by the Doctor for his patients.  He knew he was back on board ship, but the reality of what he had gone through was still too close in his mind, he could see Adam falling by the barricade, the way the arms had flailed helplessly into the air and the dark fur coated figure had fallen.   He closed his eyes,

 

“Mr O’Brien?”

 

He forced open his eyes and stared into the long narrow face of the Doctor.  He had to think hard to recollect the mans name, and when he did he couldn’t get it pass his lips.

 

“Mr O’Brien, you’re safe on board the Ainola.  Welcome on board, sir.”

 

He smiled, closed his eyes, opened them again.  Hard to speak, he hoped the Doctor would understand.   Williamson took hold of O’Brien’s hand, felt for the pulse.  It was strong, stronger than he had anticipated.  He nodded in appreciation,

 

“Mr O’Brien, I’m going to give you something now to make you go to sleep.   I have to extract two bullets from your body.   Do you understand?  Just close and open your eyes if you do.”

 

O’Brien did as he was told.  He looked into the Doctor’s face and relaxed.  He felt safe now, he was home, and here was Hugh Williamson about to perform an operation on him.  He couldn’t have been in safer hands.  He felt the stiff folds of his skin move into a smile as Williamson approached him with something like a glass of wine in his hands.

 

“Drink this, sir.”

 

He drank as he was told, and he felt the cold liquid trickle down his throat.  Then slowly he was lowered back onto the pillow, and even before his head had touched it, his eyes closed and he drifted into sleep.

 

Williamson looked at the two orderlies who were standing close to the bed,  he nodded at them both and turned to the table whereupon lay the instruments he would need now if he were to save the young man’s life.

 

In his cabin, guarded by three loyal watchdogs, Adam drifted in and out of sleep.  His body, under the warm blankets, slowly thawed out.   When his wound began to bleed it was Timothy Masters who placed thick padding over it and pressed it hard down to keep the bleeding to a minimum.   Philip had lit a small fire in the stove, imperative to them in order to warm the cabin.

 

A small smile drifted onto Adam’s lips.   He could see Sport galloping  in the corral,  tossing his head and looking  with mischief in his eyes at his master.

 

“Well, come on,” the beast seemed to be saying, “are you going to take all day or what?”

 

 

Chapter 47

 

“Captain?”

 

Adam forced open his eyes and looked up into the face of the Doctor who was gazing down at him with a very kindly expression on his own face.  Hugh smiled,

 

“Now then, Captain, are you feeling much warmer ?”

 

Adam frowned, nodded.  He couldn’t speak, his tongue felt like it was swollen in his mouth and as dry as a dogs hind leg.   He was aware of warmth,  more than aware of the pleasurable feeling of  snug contentment.   He heaved in a deep breath and gazed about him, then found himself looking back at Hugh.

 

“You’re back in your own cabin, sir.  Gibbs, the helmsman, decided to go hunting for seal meat today.  He and the men came across the Inuit with Mr O’Brien - yes, don’t worry yourself, Mr O’Brien is quite safe -” Hugh smiled reassuringly, answering the unspoken question that had leapt into Adam’s eyes  “This man, Nanuq,  was able to let them know whereabouts you were, and thankfully they found you just in time.  The sun was setting, had it got any darker and colder, we would have lost you for good.”

 

Adam exhaled a long sigh and closed his eyes.    He wanted to lose himself in this warmth and never have to feel cold again.   He wanted to forget what had happened and just get home.  He felt the doctor’s hand upon his shoulder and re-opened his eyes,

 

“Captain, you have a bullet lodged beneath your ribs.  I have to extract it as soon as possible.    Do you understand?”

 

Of course, he remembered now, there had been a gunshot and he had fallen just as Lebedev was walking away, but then there had been another gun shot and Lebedev had been killed.  He could remember the blood on the snow.  He frowned, things were getting jumbled in his mind.  He had to concentrate on one thing at a time and the best thing to do now was to concentrate on what the doctor was saying.   He relaxed a little, saw Hugh Williamson smile and nod as though pleased, and then saw the glass in the man’s hand,

 

“Just drink this and in a while you won’t feel a thing.”

 

Behind the doctor Adam could see two men dressed in the dark uniforms of medical orderlies.   He could vaguely remember seeing them before, hovering in the shadows of the sick bay.   He raised a hand and then dropped it back against the covers. 

 

“I examined you and Mr O’Brien for frost bite, but thankfully you are quite safe from that problem.  A marvel really …”  Hugh placed the glass to the dry cracked lips and an orderly raised Adam’s head so that he could drink the draught down without any wastage.  “You’ll feel a little sleepy, just close your eyes and don’t worry …”

 

A little sleepy!  Adam thought that an understatement but then before he had got to worrying about anything more than that he was totally unconsciousness,  and at the mercy of the men who stood beside his bed.

 

Hugh Williamson was an experienced medical man.  He had served on battlefields during the Civil War and extracted more bullets from more bodies than most doctors would in a life time.   He had seen brave men die and fools survive to collect medals.  As he heated his lancet on the flame of the candle he looked down at the man upon whom he was going to operate and felt a twinge of pity for him.   Then, with a sigh,  he nodded to the orderlies who got into position, one at Adam’s head and another at his feet, just in case the draught had not been sufficient and he started to come round during the operation.   It wouldn’t do for him to start flailing around then, one slip of the lancet and more damage would be done to various internal organs than anything the bullet may have caused.   Bob Cummins gripped Adam by the shoulders and Ted Hunnings had him by the feet and then Hugh leaned down closer to the wound and commenced the extraction.

 

Afterwards they bound him up in clean bandages, removed the soiled sheets and replaced them with clean.   Hugh pulled the blankets over Adam Cartwright and frowned, then looked at the other two men.

 

“Alright, you can go now.  Ask Lieutenant Masters to step in, would you?”

 

He was alone now in the cabin.   The fire needed more fuel and he carefully added some to it.    In the cabin all that could be heard was the crackling of the flames on the new fuel and the shallow breathing of the man in the bed.   Overhead could be heard the sound of footsteps as the men went about their business for nothing stopped the daily tasks of a sailor.  To be idle on board ship was to encourage boredom,  claustrophobia and depression.  His eyes roved around the cabin, glanced at the books lined upon the shelves, at the rather expensive desk with the silver ink pots and pens, papers and books.   He was about to approach the desk when the door opened and Masters entered, glanced with a frightened, concerned look at Adam and then looked at the doctor.  Hugh smiled and nodded,

 

“It’s alright.  The bullet was deeper than one would have hoped but not too difficult to extract.”   he approached the bed and frowned, “You know,  most of our Officers have never been in what I would call the forefront of battle,  and their bodies are as smooth as a babies bottom… if you’ll excuse the expression … but this man” he shook his head, “I dread to think about what kind of life style he had before coming to sea.  There was even a scar from a previous wound just an inch from where I extracted this one.” he pointed to the bloodied piece of lead in a bowl on the side table.  “Anyway,  he’s all yours.   Take good care of him, and if he’s in any pain give him this -” he placed a small bottle in Master’s hand, “If he gets a fever let me know at once.  But -” he shook his head again, “I think he’ll come out of this like a seasoned warrior by the look of it.”

 

Masters stepped back to let Hugh pass him and leave the cabin.   He looked at the man sleeping peacefully in the bed and took a book from the shelf, sat down and proceeded to read.  It wasn’t long before he was snoring himself for the room was so peaceful and so warm that it just invited one to fall asleep, so he did.

 

……………………

 

“How is he?”  Hugh asked Ted Hunnings as he stepped back into the sick bay and approached the bed upon which O’Brien was stretched out.

 

“Feverish, sir.  I checked his dressings and the wound here -” he pointed to Daniel’s arm, “looks rather nasty.”

 

“It was the more difficult one to remove.  Unusual for a bullet to lodge there so tightly.”  he leaned down, bringing a lamp closer to see for himself.   “Clean it out, Hunnings, and put on a clean dressing.”  he scratched his head  “Sometimes it isn’t the bullet that causes the damage but the amount of stuff it takes with it into the wound, that’s what causes the infection.”

 

“Stuff, sir?”

 

“Material, you know, a thread from his shirt, or a strand of hair that the bullet carries along with it into the wound.   That’s what the savages out west fight with as little clothing as possible.  Not as stupid as some would think … ah, let me see now …” he peered closer at the wound and shook  his head, “Yes, you had best keep an eye on that for me.  Let me know if he gets any worse.”

 

There was a scraping of feet upon the steps that led down from the lower deck to the sick bay and a crew man tumbled the last few steps at the doctor’s feet,

 

“Doctor,  I think I broke my ankle - tripped over the hawser -”  he groaned and Hugh sighed, nodded and put a hand under the man’s arm,

 

“Very well now …”  he paused, and shook his head.  It was always a busy life for a ship‘s doctor, a ship with so many men all getting in each others way no matter how disciplined, always provided him with work to carry out, whether it was lancing a boil, setting a broken limb or a cracked head.   At least this had been a peaceful voyage,  so far anyway.

 

Chapter 48

 

Adam slowly opened his eyes, for a while he remained very still as he lay there in the cot, the room was in the mid gloom of an evening before true night fell.  A candle glowed on a side table near to his bed and by the dying embers of the small fire a figure was slumped in sleep.

 

He remained where he was for a few minutes while he thought over the events of the day, or at least, what he thought was a day, and remembered that there were things to do,  things to get done.  He pushed aside the blankets and made the attempt to get out of the bed,

 

“Captain?”  

 

The voice came from the figure who was suddenly alert, fumblingly alert to be true, but certainly making a brave attempt to hide the fact that he had been sleeping.  Masters lit the lamp and turned up the flame, and walked quickly to where Adam was now sitting on the edge of the bed,

 

“Do you need the doctor?”  Timothy asked.

 

“No, thank you.”  Adam smiled, shook his head, and ran his fingers through his hair, “I could do with a glass of brandy, if you could find one.”

 

“Oh yes, indeed, sir.”

 

More fumbling, Adam watched as Masters finally succeeded in pouring some brandy into a glass and bringing it to him,

 

“Get one for yourself, will you?”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

“And bring me my boots, if you would.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Masters poured himself the brandy and looked around for the Captains boots,  surely not the shaggy dirty mukluks, he dismissed those and found Adam’s best leather boots and dutifully brought them over to him.

 

“Not those - the ones I was wearing when they found me.”  Adam sighed wearily, and waited for the poor fellow to locate the other boots and bring them to him.  “Just put them there, thank you.”

 

Masters waited until Adam indicated he could sit, and then they sat  facing one another, cradling their glasses of brandy, and when Adam asked him how had things gone on while he had been away, Masters had told him that everything had gone well.  Everything had been written down in the log book for  him to  check when he returned on duty.    He talked freely, happy to be there with his Captain, proud to be sharing such a conversation over a glass of good brandy.   

 

“How’s O’Brien?”

 

“Doing well enough, sir.  The doctor extracted two bullets.  One is causing a bit of a problem but the doctor is confident that he will pull through.”

 

Adam nodded.  The brandy glasses were empty.  He felt a trifle light headed and that reminded him he hadn’t eaten a decent meal since he had left the ship.   Very cordially he asked Masters to mention to the cook that the Captain would like something hot to eat.

 

The door  closed behind the younger man and Adam listened to the footsteps echo down the corridor before going up the steps.  With a slight smile he leaned down and picked  up his left boot,  after a few seconds he found what he was looking for and then slowly tore the pages into several strips.   There came the sound of voices now,  approaching the cabin.   He looked at the papers in his hands and looked around his cabin …

 

When the door opened Adam was back in his bed, his arm behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.   Dr Williamson approached him and looked down,

 

“Masters tells me you have felt well enough to share some brandy with him, sir?”

 

“Indeed I have, Doctor Williamson. ”  He smiled at the doctor who pulled up a chair, kicked the mukluks out of the way, and sat down beside the bed.

 

Hugh was a proficient doctor,  he took Adam’s pulse and checked the colour of his eyes best he could in the dim light, he listened to Adam’s heart beat and frowned,

 

“Have you been out of bed?” he shook his head, tut-tutted and warned Adam of dire consequences were he to repeat doing so.  “it’s much too soon.  You’ve been through quite an ordeal.  Here, let me see how that graze is doing …” and he raised his hand to look at the cut and bruise on Adam’s face but his hand was arrested by a firm grip as Adam took hold of it,

 

“Don’t fuss -” he snapped, “I’m alright.”

 

“It’s my duty to fuss, and you’re not alright.”

 

“Allow me to be the judge of that -”  Adam snapped, the thing he hated most was being fussed over when he was hurt or injured in any way.   He had suffered and endured far worse than this, although he was unlikely to tell the good doctor anything about that, instead he released the man’s arm, and nodded, “Thank you for your help, but I’m Captain of this ship, and there are things that need to be done.  Now I suggest you get back to the sick bay and make sure that Daniel O’Brien pulls through.   I’ll make an inspection tomorrow morning.”

 

“If you insist, sir.”

 

“I do so insist, Doctor.”  Adam smiled thinly, and leaned back against the pillows.  He closed his eyes and sighed, “Good night.”

 

“Good night to you, sir.” Williamson replied and stood up.

 

As he moved the chair one leg of it hit against the heavy fur mukluks and he shook his head, picked them up,

 

“These do smell rather, Captain, I’ll get them cleaned up for you.”

 

Adam said nothing.   To all intents and purposes he could possibly have fallen back to sleep.   The door closed quietly.   The room was silent and comfortably warm,  a candle flickered, the oil lamp bathed the cabin in a mellow glow and the embers of the fire sunk down with a sigh.   Adam closed his eyes, sighed, and thought of home.

 

Chapter 49

 

The most brilliant sunrise heralded a new day and despite the cold in the cabin Adam awoke feeling optimistic and confident about the things he would need to do .   He was about to throw aside his covers when the door opened and his steward entered the room.

 

“I was about the light the fire for you, sir.”  Abbott said quietly, and knelt in front of the dead ashes from the previous night, “Did you sleep well, sir?   Are you feeling well?   Dr Williamson said I was to let him know immediately you wake so that he can come and redress your wound.”

 

Adam observed the man thoughtfully and as a match was put to the kindling of the fire he assured Abbott that he had slept well, would like breakfast, hot coffee, Lieutenant Thomas to join him and the good doctor could wait.

 

“Oh but he won’t like that, sir.  He was most particular about attending to you.”

 

“For  Pete’s sake, man, I’ve had to contend with worse than this in my life,” Adam said shortly, and bit his bottom lip immediately.  There was little point in taking out his irritation on the man who was only fulfilling his duties as he saw fit, “Thank the doctor but tell him I’m fine for now.  Did he tell you how O’Brien is?” 

 

He looked at Abbott quickly, as the slight hesitation before he answered indicated that the news was not good.  The steward raised his eyebrows and shook his head,

 

“I’m afraid Lieutenant O’Brien took a turn for the worse early this morning, sir.”

 

“And?”

 

“And the doctor is considering -”  Abbott paused

 

“Spit it out, man, what is he considering?”

 

“The infection’s spread badly, it may be necessary to amputate.”

 

Amputate!  The word sent a chill to Adam’s heart.  He involuntarily clenched his fists upon the covers and shuddered.  The pain of an infection was bad enough, but to face the agony of the severance of the limb, the long days waiting for it to heal and the rest of one’s life without use of one’s hand was too much to contemplate.

 

“Does O’Brien know?”

 

“He’s in a bad fever, sir.  Dr Williamson has explained but one can’t say for sure if he understood.”

 

“Get my clothes, I need to get dressed.”   Adam swung his legs over the side of the bed, gasped, bent double and groaned, oh, yes, it was all very well saying that he had contended with worse wounds but that didn’t magic away the effect of the current one.  “It’s alright, don’t fuss - help me get dressed.”  he said in a voice that was laced with the tightness of pain.

 

Abbott did as he was ordered.  With one eye on the fire and the other on getting Adam’s wardrobe organised he succeeded in fulfilling the tasks well.   Adam stood up,  swayed a little, sat down again on the side of the bed.

 

“Oh sir, you just can’t get out of bed so soon, you’ll do yourself more harm than good.”  Abbott even went so far as to wring his hands in his anxiety.

 

“Get Lieutenant Thomas here, right away.   Thank you, Abbott.  Then - then arrange for my breakfast to be brought to my cabin in about an hour.”

 

The steward hurried away.   Adam promptly sagged,  he put his hand to his brow and rubbed at his temple where the pain niggled like a miniscule red hot poker.   His optimistic mood had evaporated away, just as the colours of the sunset had ebbed out of sight and left a grey sky in its place.

 

Philip Thomas stepped into the cabin, removed his hat and tucked it under his arm and saluted.

 

“Awaiting orders, sir.”

 

“Get my cloak, will you.  Help me get on my feet …” 

 

Philip duly obliged and looked anxiously at his senior officer.  He was about to say something  like ‘Do you think you should just stay in bed another day, sir’ when a look from the dark eyes spoke volumes.  He chose to keep his mouth shut, draped the cloak over Adam’s shoulders and gave him his arm to lean upon.

 

As Adam stepped from his cabin and walked the corridor  to the steps that led to the upper deck, he wondered if he would actually reach the sick bay without keeling over.  Each step sent the pain cutting through his body  and he knew that had it been anyone on board ship other than O’Brien he would have remained in his cabin and relied on the receiving of messages only.   But O’Brien had saved his life,  had willingly gone on this adventure with him, had undertaken so much for the sake of his country and for his friendship.  A loyal friend was not one  who, in time of crisis, one turned one’s back upon.

 

“It’s the Captain -”

 

“By jiminy, it’s Captain Cartwright -”

 

“Lads - Captains on deck.”

 

The whispers ran along the decks among the men, all eyes turned to the two figures as they made their way to the sick bay,  there was mumble that rose to a cheer, and greetings and calls of good cheer that made Adam pause, raise a hand, nod his dark head and smile, before urging Philip to continue onwards.

 

Williamson was just turning towards the door at the sound of the cheers when Adam and Philip stepped into the sick bay.  He rose to his feet immediately,

 

“Captain?  What are you doing here?”

 

“I heard that O’Brien had taken a turn for the worse, I wanted to see how he was -”

Adam replied in a no nonsense manner and walked pass the doctor towards the cot upon which O’Brien tossed and turned, muttering and mumbling in his delirium

 

“Oh, darling my sweet,” he whispered, “Maria - “ the words drifted away on a sigh, swallowed up in the groans and grunts of a man in mortal pain.   Perspiration trickled down his face, constantly and gently wiped away by one of the orderlies.   Adam approached the bed and gestured for the sheet to be raised from the injured arm.

 

“There’s little hope -” Williamson murmured, “I may already have delayed too long.”

 

“He’s strong, young -” Adam replied in a low voice as he gazed upon the wound, “what else have you done for him?    Is there no medication to ease his pain?”

 

“He has had all I can give him, Captain.  He can’t be given more now.” 

 

Adam bit his bottom lip.  How hot it was in this wretched place, he thought, and yet there was an ice cold shiver constantly down his back.  He blinked and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve, and then leaned forward again.   The dark line that indicated the blood poisoning from the wound was certainly clearly evident, and the wound was ugly, there was no doubt about that,

 

“Have you tried drawing the blood from the wound?  Hot and cold compresses?”

 

“Sir, with all due respect, I am the doctor on board this ship.  When I step into your office to give orders as to when and how to sail the wretched vessel -”

 

“Enough said, you’re quite right -” Adam sighed heavily, and nodded acquiescence.  “He’s just -” he paused again and stepped away,  “I’m sorry, doctor, I’ve seen worse injuries than this and the limb has been saved.  You must do everything, everything you can -”

 

“For heavens’ sake, man, don’t you think I have?”

 

Adam looked at Williamson with lowering brows,  for a man to talk to the Captain in such a manner could well warrant him a flogging.    It showed complete disrespect and both men, as well as the orderlies and Philip Thomas, realised that as an uncomfortable silence fell upon them.   Adam glanced from the doctor to the injured man, who was whispering sweet nothings to his dear wife and was totally unaware of what was happening, although deep groans punctuated the words he was speaking.

 

“Doctor,  remember to whom you speak - and allow me to say that I have known too many doctors take off a man’s limb too quickly in the past.  I would not want to think that you would be among that class of doctor.”

 

“Sir -” Williamson’s cheeks rouged with anger.

 

“Where I come from bullet wounds are a common occurrence, too common perhaps.  But the doctors there work hard on saving limbs rather than severing them.   This man is my first Officer,  I want you to do all you can to save that arm.”

 

“I’ve already -”

 

“That’s an order.”

 

Williamson swallowed whatever words he was about to utter.  He turned away from Adam and surveyed the injured arm, and then turned back to face the Captain,

 

“If the poison reaches here -” he pointed to a specific area of the arm, “I shall have to amputate.  Beyond that point the poison will run rampant throughout his body,  to his heart -” he turned a dark baleful look at Adam, “he’ll die.”

 

Adam nodded.   He looked down at O’Brien and leaned closer to him, he wanted to say some words of encouragement but it was obvious the young man would not have heard him.   He sighed, and looked at Williamson

 

“Do whatever is necessary, whatever you can -” he paused,  realised that if he didn’t leave the sick bay immediately he would be in the cot next to O’Brien as waves of pain wafted over him.  He turned to Philip, “Your arm, sir.  Let me know,” he said to Williamson “when you decide to operate.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The words were forced between tight lips and as Adam left the sick bay Willliamson strode angrily to the far end of the sick bay to where he had his desk and journals.  He clenched his fists and swore volubly,  the humiliation he had felt as a layman, even if he were the Captain, having  the effrontery to tell HIM what to do threw him into a passion of anger and vitriol.

 

As Philip closed the door  of the Captain’s cabin, Adam gratefully sunk upon the big leather chair by his desk.  He opened a drawer and pulled out a book of poetry, one of his most loved treasures.  He glanced up at the young officer,

 

“Lieutenant Thomas, if I remember correctly you studied geology?”

 

“I did indeed, sir.”

 

“And you can speak Russian?”

 

“Fluently, sir.”  Philip nodded, a few days ago he would have said so with a hint of annoyance, seeing how preference had been given to  Jack Lawson who had been chosen to go on land because of his knowledge of Russian, but as Jack Lawson had not returned and was sadly permanently land bound, he said it with a flourish of self appreciation.

 

“Do you read it as well?”

 

“Yes, indeed, sir.”

 

Adam nodded and beckoned to the chair opposite him.

 

He was about to speak when there was a light tap on the door and Abbott entered with the breakfast things.   Adam waited for him to place everything, invited Philip to stay and share the food with him, and asked Abbott to pour the coffee.   Every so often he glanced at the clock.  It seemed that time was ticking away too slowly, too slowly.    He thought of O’Brien, of Williamson and he longed to tell Abbott to hurry himself and to leave the room.

 

“Now then,” he looked at Philip thoughtfully as soon as the door had closed and Abbott’s footsteps had faded away, “Enjoy your breakfast, Philip, and then I need you to do something for me.”

 

“Of course, sir.” Philip smiled broadly, and began to eat his meal with an eagerness that would, at one time, have brought memories of Hoss to the Captain’s mind.   Instead Adam drank his coffee and struggled to eat what was on the plate before him.

 

Chapter 50

 

Adam waited until Abbott had cleared away the breakfast things, had confirmed that O’Brien was holding his own, and finally left the cabin.

 

“Philip, do you recall anyone by the name of Jeffrey Metcalfe coming on board when we left San Francisco?”

 

There was no point in beating around the bush, time didn’t allow for such niceties.  Philip contemplated the ceiling for a few minutes and then shook his head,

 

“No one of that name on board, sir.   Have you checked - oh, no, of course, you wouldn’t have had much chance of doing so.  I beg your pardon, sir.”

 

Adam nodded,  dismissing the comment for what it was worth, and looking thoughtfully at the rather feeble fire.  

 

“I had a reason for taking Lawson with me although you had mentioned at the time that you spoke Russian.” he paused,  then decided to ignore the questioning look on  Philip’s face by opening his book of poems and withdrawing from its pages a strip of paper, and from between some other pages another strip of paper.  He looked up at Philip, “What I am going to show you is highly confidential.   You must not in any circumstances mention that you have seen this to anyone.  Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, sir.”  Philip reddened slightly around the collar and his Adam’s apple jerked convulsively.

 

“It’s a list of names.   Jack was able to tell me some,  I’d like you to write them down  for me.   Afterwards you can forget all about them.”

 

“I do have a pretty poor memory for names to be honest, sir.” Philip said with total honesty.

 

Adam smiled and handed him a sheet of paper and a pencil.

 

“As quickly as you can, boy, and if anyone comes don’t let them see what you’re doing.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

As the young officer bent over the paper to toil at his translation Adam took from the drawer some papers, among them a list of names relating to the crew that had been signed on before they set sail.  

 

He found himself glancing occasionally at his industrious scribe, who scribbled away fast and furiously, muttering under his breath all the while and never once looking up to see whether or not he was being observed.  Adam carefully checked off the names of his crew, writing deceased carefully with the date against the names of Rostov - Josef and Lawson - Jack.   There had been other deaths due to accidents while on board during storm or illness.   He sighed, there was no Jeffrey Metcalfe mentioned. 

 

He noted the names and addresses of the next of kin of the deceased, he would have to write to them,  and then he carefully put the papers back in his drawer.   The pain from his wound was becoming harder to bear, he could feel prickles of sweat beneath his arm pits, dewing his brow.   He put a hand to his head to still the hammer and tongs that were beating in his temple and then Philip said

 

“I’ve finished, sir.”

 

Adam glanced up,  looked at the young man, and took the papers.   There was something so honest and naïve about Philip Thomas that Adam felt a sudden affection for him.  He could see in the young man’s face the same eager eyed anticipation of praise that he had seen so often in Joe’s face when he had been particularly good over doing his chores or achieving his homework when a boy  at school.  

“Thank you, Philip.”

 

“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

 

“Get the Sergeant of Marines to attend me, and also the gunner.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Philip looked apprehensive but saluted and turned to leave the room.  The door closed behind him and Adam looked through the list of names, and groaned softly, beneath his breath, at several of them.  One he had anticipated seeing, but others he had not and their presence on the list gave him cause for  considerable concern.  He folded the papers, the English translation he slipped into his pocket but the original Russian papers he returned to his book of poems.

 

The gunner was one of five standing officers on board any ship.   The others were boatswain, purser, carpenter and cook.   It was the custom of naval procedure to have these five officers permanently attached to a vessel for the lifetime of the ship, so Gunner Nicolson had known and served alongside the Captain from when he had first stepped on board the Ainola years earlier.    Nicolson was responsible for the ship’s guns and ammunition for which he was accountable to the Navy’s Ordnance Board.

 

The Sergeant at Arms was known as ‘Duke’ among the crew, his real name was Frank Day.  He had under his command a detachment of 20 men,  allocated their own quarters, close to the armoury at the ships stern.

 

Both men entered the Captains quarters, removed their head coverings and saluted.

 

“Nicolson,  have you been practising with your men as is customary on board ship?”

 

“Why, no, sir.  We didn’t think -”

 

“You will start by doing so as from today.   Initially we had orders that should a Russian ship chance to come by we were not to show any evidence of our guns or that we were in a position to defend ourselves were we to come under attack.    That has now changed.   I want you to ensure that the men are well practised, run out the guns every two hours, make sure that they are in prime condition and test for the time allocated between firing and loading can be kept to a minimum.”

 

Nicolson said nothing,  saluted and left the cabin.   His voice could be heard barking orders from the upper deck.   Adam now turned to the Sergeant,

 

“Keep your men on full alert.   Practise drill regularly.  I want them to be able to defend this ship to the best of their ability should we come under attack.”

 

“Is that possible, sir?  We’ve not seen any sign of a Russian ship hereabouts, not even a trawler.”

 

Adam nodded thoughtfully as though in agreement with Duke, but then he raised his eyebrows and gave a slight shrug

 

“I know there has to be a ship somewhere, Lebedev didn’t just appear out of thin air.” he frowned, and looked again at the Sergeant, “Our initial orders were that we were not to fire out guns or commit any act of aggression against the Russians.   An act of aggression has, however, been committed against us, two of my men and a civilian have been killed, another may be dying …”  he looked at Duke with stern features, “I don’t intend this ship to be shot out of the water without defending her to the best of her abilities.”

 

“I understand, sir.” Duke saluted and with just the slightest frown on his face left the cabin.

 

Adam sighed, and then weak and exhausted, he buried his face in his hands for a few moments while he tried to gather his resources.    He had just given orders contrary to those given by Pelman, but having seen the wretched mans name on the list Philip had just handed him, and under the conditions that now existed due to Lebedev’s actions, he felt that there was nothing else he could do but prepare his ship for action against any attack.

 

There was a knock on the door and Williamson stepped into the cabin.  He looked tall and gangly, his head brushing against the cabin ceiling as he stood there waiting for Adam to speak,

 

“How’s O’Brien?”

 

“So far he seems to be steadying up.  He is no longer delirious, the fever has abated.”

 

“And - his arm?”

 

“I’m keeping it under close observation.  It hasn’t got any worse, neither has it improved.”

 

Adam sighed, nodded and looked thoughtfully at the doctor  who was standing and looking rather uncomfortable,

 

“Doctor Williamson, I was out of order earlier.  I hope you will accept my apologies.  I had no right to tell you, a qualified doctor, how to act in your own quarters.”

 

“Thank you, sir, I appreciate that very much and I would like to tender to you my own apologies, I spoke hastily and in anger.  It is a fault of mine, to be impatient and hasty.” he frowned, “And you were correct, too many doctors do amputate limbs too quickly.  Having worked in a field hospital during the civil war, there seemed little time to spend waiting to see if a limb was going to get better or not, it was just a case of dealing with things quickly and then get on with the next man.”

 

“I can understand how it must have been.” Adam said slowly, thoughtfully.   “You were at a number of battles then?”

 

“Too many really.  To be honest, one battle is one too many, especially when it is a civil war.” Williamson frowned, “It should never have gone on for so long, but -” he shrugged, “We can’t change the past.” He stepped forward now with a smile, “I thought I should check on your own wound, Captain.   As it is, I think you have done too much already and should certainly be resting, otherwise you will be ill.”

 

Adam nodded.   He didn’t like to say that he was already feeling far from well,  but there were things to do,  and the first thing was to get the ship turned around, and heading for sea once again.

 

Chapter 51

 

As the third in rank, Philip Thomas found himself on the bridge and temporarily in charge as Adam was forced to remain in his cabin too exhausted physically to fulfil his duties other than to give orders to his officers.   He now  knocked on the Captain’s door, and upon the hearing the command to enter, did so.

 

“Captain, the gunner sends his compliments, practise will commence at 11 a.m. this morning.  The thaw is setting in and there is wind 11-16 knots blowing.  The Helmsman says to tell you that there should be no difficulty with ice at this juncture but as there is so much breaking loose progress will be slow.”

 

“Very good,” Adam fastened the last button of his tunic and then leaned against his desk to survey the map.

 

With his index finger he traced out a route that would take them back to the Bering Straits, without looking up he reached for his jacket and shrugged himself into it very carefully as he gave Philip the orders for the helmsman.

 

He was asleep when the guns went off, and the pounding of them, the yells of the men and the shouts of the officers aroused him with a jolt.   For a moment he was unsure as to where exactly he was and then he drifted back into sleep.  His last thought was that Hugh Williamson’s medication seemed to be very effective.

 

O’Brien also woke up to the sound of the guns.  He grasped at the side of his cot and struggled to get up but found himself to be as weak as the proverbial kitten, and about as ineffectual.

 

“Steady now, sir, steady,” one of the orderlies came and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder,  “They’re practising with the guns.  Captain’s orders, sir.  Now then, you jest set yourself back and rest up.  You’ve been through a very rough time.”

 

“The Captain?  Is he well?”  he could barely get the words through his lips.

 

“Well enough, sir. Like yourself, he’s resting.” the orderly stepped aside as the tall figure of the doctor loomed up behind him.

 

“Ah O’Brien, you are looking a lot better than I expected after yesterday.  You nearly lost your arm you know.”

 

It was a statement of fact that O’Brien found hard to understand, he stared rather oddly at the doctor and then fell back against the pillow, sick to the stomach at the thought.

 

“The Captain insisted that you had more time, he was right, you’ve rallied well and we were able to draw off a lot of the poison.  Thankfully it had not got as bad as we had first thought.” he smiled and placed a hand on the officer’s shoulder, “Rest now, this is the time for recuperation, not heroics.”

 

O’Brien relaxed, the doctor’s voice was gentle, kindly, but stern.  He closed his eyes and realised that for the first time in what seemed an eternity the pain in his body had eased off, was even containable, and thus he allowed himself to slip off into sleep.

 

The sails were lowered and like great sheets they filled out with the wind and brought a beauty to the vessel that one always associated with the clipper ship.  Elegant now she began to take in the wind, which, blowing between 11 - 16 knots was fairly moderate.  Gibbs at the helm turned the wheel and with a great deal of creaking and sighing the great ship began to turn into the direction of the Bering Strait, away from the islands and the snow laden ice of the coast line.

 

The grey skies above slowly seeped away and were replaced by pleasant blue.  The guns roared under the guidance of Nicolson, and the Officers kept their timekeepers in their hands as they took account of the time it took for each gun to be reloaded after discharge.    One after another the guns roared, seals sidled away from their ice floes and sought refuge in the cold waters, swimming away from the disruption of their haven.  Ice calved from the walls of bergs and slid into the sea as the pounding of the guns vibrated time and again, and loosened the ice away from the glaciers.

 

The Ainola seemed to glide slowly from the islands coast line, swayed to an angle as she curved to turn herself away and slip gently into the black seas laden with the ice.  Cautiously she nudged her way through the floes and made her way forwards.  She was going home.

 

…………………….

 

Adam stirred and sighed.  The sound in his cabin was that of sea birds gathering in the wake of the ship, waiting for the tit bits that would inevitably be flung over the side.  His left arm covered his face and his right was flung to the side, overhanging the edge of the bed.

 

The door opened very slowly. Someone entered the room with a stealth that indicated trespass.  Adam, instantly awake, remained still and to all intents and purposes slept on.  There was the sound of drawers opening and closing, the rustle of clothes being moved about, books taken from shelves and pages turned.  It was less than a few minutes and then the door was closed again.

 

Adam sighed again, releasing his breath.  He remained where he was, there was little point in moving now.  He was tired after all and needed his rest.  Whoever it was, would no doubt come again.

 

Chapter 52

 

Abbott was gently shaking him awake.   He started to stretch, groaned, stopped.  He then passed his hand over his face, across his beard and forced his eyes open.

 

“Your  dinner, sir.” the words floated towards him from somewhere far away in the distance.

 

He felt stiff.  It seemed difficult to get his legs to move, to swing them over the edge of the bed and set his feet down on the floor.    From the window opposite the bed he could see blue sky, the brilliant white of the ice reflecting back the suns rays, and the deceptively solid mass of black water heaving away from them.

 

“Did you come into my room earlier, Abbott?”

 

“Just the one time, sir, to check on whether you were sleeping or not.  Dr Williamson wanted you to know that Lieutenant O’Brien had regained consciousness and was doing well.”

 

“I see -”  he frowned and glanced once again out of the window, then he forced his reluctant body to get up and walk to where Abbott had set out the meal.

 

“You didn’t see anyone come to my cabin at all?”

 

“No, sir.   Dr Williamson did say he would come and check your dressing, but I don’t think he has had time to do that yet, sir.   The gunner, Mr Nicolson, was going to see you but changed his mind as the matter resolved itself.”  he sniffed, whatever problem bothered the gunner was of no interest to him.  Gunners and such were not in his class and someone  easily dismissed from his mind.

 

Once he was alone Adam opened the drawers of his desk to check through his paperwork.  His book of poems was in the wrong position,  all the letters he had written in their neat chronological order to his family and Barbara were still in order but to his discerning eye, had been rifled through.   He sat back in his seat to consider what had happened, and to see if he could put a face to the shape that had entered his room.  If only he had been less weary, more alert.  He should have done something instead of just staying put like he had, and  yet, it had been so difficult to move.  Even now his head throbbed at the least action and the smell of the food was nauseating. 

 

He ate a little, just a little, and then forced himself back onto his feet.  He walked to the window and opened it to get some of the cold air onto his face.  Then, annoyed at his lack of activity, he closed it, and picked up his cloak.   Abbott was aghast when he saw Adam fastening the cloak and at the sight of the barely touched meal.

 

“Captain, you’re really doing yourself no favours by going outside.  The wind is -”

 

“Thank you, Abbott.”

 

Perhaps the man was right, Adam conjectured as he made his way along the corridor to the steps, perhaps it would be better to keep to his bed, just for a few more hours, or until the next morning.

 

He had his foot on the bottom step when he was confronted by  the long legs of Philip Thomas,  who came to an abrupt halt when seeing the Captain approaching him

 

“Oh Captain,” he saluted “I came to say that the next practise will be starting in five minutes.   They did very well this morning, sir, but we’re hoping to close the time between shots this time round.”

 

“That’s good.  Give me your arm, Philip, and take me to the sick bay.”

 

The thud of the guns started as he stepped through the door into the sick bay, and the ship shuddered at each volley.  Each gun  was the standard 18 pounder, nine feet long, weighing about two tons.  Ten men would be needed for each gun to handle it.  The force of the recoil from firing would send the gun running inboard on its carriage to the full length of its breeching tackle which was secured to the ships side.

 

The noise of running feet as each man handled their own gun, dealt with their own task with disciplined efficiency and without crashing into each other in the process, coupled with the shouts of the officers as they timed the operation, the gunner and armourer yelling ‘fire’ and the guns blasting off followed by the sound of the wheels running inboard were sounds that were heart stoppingly terrifying to anyone who was boarding a ship for the first time.   Now to Adam it was merely background noise.

 

A white cloud rose skywards and he paused to observe it … a flock of sea birds who had sought the safety of the skies and now reflected the suns rays as they swooped, curved and flew inland.   Such beauty amid such a cruel terrain and he pushed open the door to step into the suffocatingly stuffy confines of the sick bay.

 

“I’ve come to see Lieutenant O’Brien,” he said to the orderly who had nearly dropped the tray he was carrying at the sight of the Captain entering through the doorway, a rush of cold air floated behind him, freshening the room as it did so.  “How is he?”

 

“Recovering well now, sir.”

 

Adam smiled, noticed the cot upon which O’Brien lay, and approached him.  Daniel had his eyes closed,  his face was pallid and had the sickly sheen of agony upon the skin.   His injured arm was bound with bandages that even now showed the stain of blood upon it.  Another bandage was strapped tightly around his chest.  Adam knew that his friend would not be standing beside him for a long time to come.

 

“Daniel?”

 

The eyes fluttered open, a weak smile hovered over the pale lips and O’Brien made a futile attempt to salute, which was arrested by Adam placing a hand upon his arm

 

“Daniel, you had us worried there for a while.”

 

“Yes,” the young man’s brow furrowed, “I thought I was going to die.”

 

“Stay strong.” Adam whispered, smiled and turned away.   He appreciated that O’Brien’s strength was limited and the longer he stayed by the bedside the more reserves the young man was using up needlessly.

 

Williamson appeared, he stepped back to let Adam turn and then took his position beside the Captain.  Together they walked to the doorway where the doctor turned to observe the other man

 

“You shouldn’t be here, you know.  You need to rest, to recuperate.”

 

“Thank you, I appreciate your consideration, Doctor, but there are things to do.” Adam smiled thinly, his mind already on his duties.

 

“The guns - I wasn’t aware that this was a military exercise we were on - I thought orders were -”

 

“Orders change with the circumstances, Doctor.” Adam smiled again, “The men need to practise their timing in the event of hostilities.”

 

“Why should there be hostilities?  Aren’t we heading for  home now?”

 

“Yes, but we are still in Russian waters, in fact,” he gave a slight shrug of the shoulders, “we may well meet up with them very shortly.”

 

“But we were to show a friendly approach to them, weren’t we?”

 

Adam turned to face Hugh, a slight frown on his brow and concern in his eyes,

 

“What approach we show them rather depends on the approach they show us, Doctor.   Mr O’Brien and I didn’t come by our  wounds by being careless and falling over our rifles, you know!  I don’t have two men stretched out upon the ice because of their in expertise with their guns on a hunting expedition.”  his voice was blunt, angry.  It rankled in his mind that Rostov and Lawson  had been left on that iced over tundra, and would, when the thaw really set in, be exposed to the elements.  It made him feel that he had failed them, and that, to a man who pushed himself to excel in everything he did, distressed him.

 

“I’m sorry, Captain, I didn’t mean to question your command.   I was just surprised I suppose, after all, it has been such a quiet journey so far.”

 

Adam cast another look of exasperation at the Doctor , nodded and indicated to Philip that he had need of his arm.  Together they crossed the deck and mounted the steps to the f’c’stle.    From here they could over look the men at practise with the guns,  and although the cold was bitter Adam could smell the freshening sweetness of spring upon it.   He glanced up and looked at the sails as they filled out with the wind now blowing steadily at 18 knots.   When he glanced down there were far more small pieces of ice being tossed in the water as the ice floes broke apart. 

 

The firing stopped and the silence was punctuated by the stiff snapping of the sails, the cries of the gulls and the slapping of the water against the ships hull.   The armourer approached and held up his stop watch

 

“Just on two minutes, sir.”

 

“Excellent, well done, men.”  he turned to Philip, “Lieutenant Thomas, assemble the men.”

 

Philip gave the order and the men were piped on deck.  All stood assembled before the bridge to hear what the Captain had to say.  He could see Williamson and the orderlies standing by the door of the sick bay.

 

“When we began this voyage I gave you the orders that I had been given - that we were to conceal our guns,  we were not to show hostility to any ship that approached us, particularly if they were flying the Russian flag.   Well, the situation has changed.  We’re not here to enjoy the view we’re here to defend our ship, our nation’s honour, should it be so required.   So, men, keep alert.   Keep to your stations.”

 

Someone called out for cheers to the Captain and a rousing medley of voices did just that,  Adam smiled and raised a hand

 

“We shall weigh anchor at 8 bells.  I think we should have time for relaxation, music - and a good hearty meal.  Tomorrow we shall take what comes our way, but one thing is for sure, we’re heading home.”

 

Another hearty cheer and Adam acknowledged it before turning his back and approaching the helmsman, 

 

“Is everything well, Davies?”

 

“Yes, sir, all’s well.”

 

He stood there for some minutes before the need came to return to the cabin.   At least he had made his presence seen before the men, leaving conjecture and gossip unable to fuel any rumour that he was unable to keep his command.

 

“Lieutenant Thomas, could you ask Mr Gibbs to come to the cabin.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Adam sunk down into his chair by the desk and opened the drawer.  It was unchanged from the last time he had looked.  Everything looked perfectly normal.  His bedding had been tidied, and he knew he had Abbott to thank for that, it was one of his duties.  

 

He pulled out a clean sheet of paper and dipped his pen into the ink …

 

“Dearest Barbara -”

 

He paused at the knock on the door and Gibbs stepped into the cabin, clutching his hat to his chest.  He approached the desk and waited, and Adam smiled and stood up, extended his hand towards the helmsman,

 

“Mr Gibbs, I believe my thanks are overdue.  You saved my life -”

 

“Indeed, sir, and thank God for it.” replied the other man, gripping his Captain’s hand and shaking it.

 

“Yes,” Adam nodded, “Yes, indeed …”

 

………………………………....

 

Barbara Scott closed the school house door behind her and turned to go down the steps to the yard.  The children were making their usual noise as they ran homewards bound, freedom at last, although she hoped that she never made any of them feel that school days were that bad, in fact, under her tutelage, even enjoyable.

 

A man stood close to the hitching rail, a little girl of about six years of age stood beside him, her hand clutching hold of his hand and her eyes wide as she stared at the woman now walking towards them.

 

Barbara smiled, and as always the smile illuminated her features.   She had always been a shy person, reserved, and some could have accused her of looking aloof and a little stern, but when she smiled the planes of her face seemed to shift, and her eyes twinkled

 

“Are you wanting to speak to me?” she asked, looking first at him and then down at the girl, whose head she stroked gently.

 

“If you are the school mistress here then, yes.”  he returned the smile, and took off his hat politely, “I’m Andrew Pearson.  This is my daughter, Lilith.”

 

“Hello, Lilith.” she smiled and received a shy smile from the child, her extended hand was shaken warmly by Mr Pearson.

 

“I’ve just recently moved onto a small homestead just out of town.  Lilith and I thought we would come and meet the school teacher . ”

 

“Well, that is good.  I am really very pleased to meet you both.  Is there -” she hesitated, wary about what she was about to ask in order not to cause any offence.

 

“My wife died two years ago.  It’s just Lilith and myself.   We moved from  Placerville.  Had a spread out there but things didn’t seem to do so well once Jessica died.”  his face settled into a stern look, and the grip on Lilith’s hand tightened momentarily, “I guess I just needed to make a fresh start and when this place came available here, I thought I might as well take it up.”

 

“Well, that’s good.  I’ll see Lilith on Monday morning then …” she smiled again, shook the girl’s hand and then Mr Pearson’s hand.

 

“Thank you, Miss -”

 

“I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, Barbara Scott.”

 

“Thank you, Miss Scott.  Pleased to make your acquaintance.” he replaced his hat, tipped it politely and led Lilith to the horse that was nodding contentedly close by.

 

Barbara smiled, hugged her books to her in a familiar fashion, and made her way home.  Peggy had promised to make their meal for the evening, and she allowed her mind to consider whether or not that had been such a wise idea!

 

Chapter 53

 

The Russian Orthodox priest waved the censer too and fro, so that the heady aromatic incense rose about the heads of those assembled for the burial of a hero.  Count Alexei Lebedev  was dressed in his court uniform,  resplendent and rather surreal as he was carefully lifted from the coffin to the board which would lower him into the sea.

 

The officers of the ship had each walked slowly pass him, bowed and kissed him in the Russian fashion.  Now they stood back and listened to the  words the priest was uttering,  while their minds were on the words of their Captain addressed to them earlier that day in his cabin.

 

Those thoughts were rudely interrupted upon the realisation that the priest had stopped praying and that Lebedev had departed for good, the splash that followed confirmed that fact.

 

They waited for one moment in respectful silence for their dead comrade, and then dispersed.   Orders were shouted from officer to crew, feet pounded the deck and the Captain took his position on the bridge.    Slowly the vessel turned towards the Bering Strait, up in the crow’s nest the watchman kept his eyes alert for  a view of the ship that held the man responsible for the death of the Count.  In the sick bay a soldier who had been one of the party that had attacked Adam and his men,  was being given the last rites now,  soon he would also be despatched to a watery grave.  Sadly his account of what had happened had been sufficient to consolidate the Captain’s decision to  blow the Americans to  Kingdom come.  

 

Ignorant of all that had been involved the Captain was only aware that an unprovoked attack had resulted in the deaths of a Russian aristocrat, officer and gentleman and several other Russians who, although of no account as to rank, were still Russian.  Full of patriotic fervour he had shouted his demands and his commands and had set the ship on course after the Ainola.

 

……………………..

 

Adam Cartwright tapped his pen thoughtfully upon the desk top,  he listened to what Richard Friend was reporting, while his eyes were on Timothy Masters and Philip Thomas.   After a while Richard stopped his narrative and Timothy began with his own.     From above there came the sound of music, and when Timothy had finished speaking Adam looked over at Philip,

 

“Very well, thank you for your reports.   Now go and enjoy your evening.   Just make sure that the watchman is alert.  I don’t want this evenings entertainment to be ruined by our being taken unawares by a Russian war ship.”

 

“Do you really think that likely, sir?” Richard asked with some anxiety.

 

Adam shrugged,  and looked down at the letter still half written on his desk.  His long fingers smoothed one corner.

 

“Well,  I would think so, wouldn’t you?  They’ve had their men killed and must feel much as we do about those friends of ours whom we have lost.”  he pursed his lips, “I would think it very likely.   Who has the next watch?”

 

“I take over from Harcourt, sir.”    Richard said with a slight frown.

 

“Very good.  Keep alert.  Let me know if you see or hear anything suspicious.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The three men saluted and left the cabin, closing the door quietly behind them.   Up on deck the men were enjoying  the permission to ‘party’.    Seven men were dancing a traditional sailors dance, there were pipes, a harmonica and an accordian playing a fast piece of maritime music.   Despite the cold in the wind the men were pleased  to  have the opportunity to enjoy association like this, it didn’t happen often, and when it came with the Captain’s permission the men greedily took advantage of it.

 

In his cabin Adam put down the pen, peeled off his jacket and made his way to his bed.    Within minutes he had fallen into a deep sleep.

 

On deck a man separated himself from the groups gathered together for the fun and merriment.    No one seemed to notice him slip away from the lower deck and make his way to the  Captain’s quarters.   Stealthily he put his hand on the door handle and pushed the door open.     It was not yet dark, the cabin was in a position to catch the light from the window to its best advantage.   He stood for some seconds at the doorway before entering the cabin and slowly, methodically searched through the papers on the desk.  He took the blotter apart, and carefully reassembled it.  One by one the drawers of the desk were pulled out and papers scrabbled through, envelopes opened and searched through, booked opened and shaken so that anything hidden would drop out.   He found nothing.

 

The heavy breathing of the Captain indicated that he slept deeply, and not surprisingly considering the injury he had sustained and the fool hardy way he had insisted on trying to conduct his duties during the day when he should have been resting. 

 

He paused at the bed and looked down at the man asleep on the bed.  Was it possible that what he was looking for was actually on the man’s person,  in his pocket or hidden under the mattress.   He bit his bottom lip and hesitated for a moment …

 

“Oh,  Dr Williamson - what are you doing here?”

 

Abbott stood in the doorway,  the Captains meal on the tray ready to be served.  Hugh swallowed the lump in his throat, and stepped back from the bed,

 

“As you can see, I was checking on  how the Captain was after all the exertion of the day.    I’m afraid he really should be resting more.  Isn’t there any way that you can ensure his staying in his cabin tomorrow and resting?” he sounded peevish, as though accusing Abbott of not performing his duties efficiently, and the steward bristled, went rather red in the face and bustled further into the room.

 

Adam stirred and opened his eyes, he saw Hugh and frowned slightly.   Then he sat up, nodded at Abbott and indicated that he could leave the tray and go.   Then he rose to his feet and looked steadily at Hugh,

 

“Well, Hugh, have you come back to find what you didn’t find earlier?” he said very quietly.

 

“I don’t know what you mean, Captain, I came to see how you were as you were not on deck with the Officers I wanted to make sure -”

 

“That I was sound asleep so that you could look for  certain papers that you didn’t find the last time you searched?” Adam murmured as he made his way to his desk and carefully lowered himself into the chair, he rubbed his face and sighed, then looked up and stared thoughtfully at the doctor, “Well, what have you to say for yourself?” he enquired with his eyes half hooded by the heavy lids and the dark brows raised questioningly.

 

Chapter 54

 

Hugh Williamson stood for some time just looking totally deflated.  His Adam’s apple jerked convulsively, and the colour of his skin was mottled by patches of scarlet around the collar, his hands clenched and unclenched as he stood in front of the desk much like an errant school boy sent up before the Head.  Rather nervously the corner of his mouth twitched as though suddenly he had developed a tic, then he shivered and looked into Adam’s dark eyes,

 

“How did you know?”

 

“I didn’t, not for sure.” Adam replied honestly, “But there were several things that didn’t quite add up.  Once that happens it’s just a case of waiting to see what would happen next.   I was awake the last time you came and although I didn’t think I saw you I believe the mind takes in far more of what’s happening, and it smacked a little of déjà vu when I woke up to see you here …” he sighed, “I suppose you were giving me rather large doses of medication to make sure I slept?”

 

“It wouldn’t have done you any harm, I promise you.  In fact, probably more good than anything. You need your sleep.”  Hugh muttered rather patronisingly.

 

“Mmm,  I don’t know about that, I’ve a stinking headache and feel worse than I can ever remember.  Sit down, doctor, you make me nervous standing like that -”

 

Hugh lowered himself into the chair opposite the desk and took in a deep breath.  He then stared at the floor, while he locked his fingers together between his legs.  He looked the picture of dejection.

 

“Any explanation that you would like to give?” Adam’s clipped voice demanded.

 

“I - I don’t know what to say -  where to start -” Hugh paused and darted a look out of the corner of his eyes at Adam , “Do you know what the papers contain?”

 

“Do you?” Adam asked directly, and raised his eyebrows as though indicating he would like a prompt answer.

 

“Not really.   I was just told that if they came on board I was to get hold of them.”

 

“You were working along with Jack Lawson then?”

 

“Yes.   When he didn’t come back -” he licked his lips, “And then you mentioned Lebedev, who was one of our contacts,  I realised that it was left to me to get the papers myself.”

 

“What were you supposed to do with them then?”

 

“Give them to my superior.”

 

“Mmm,  and who was that?”

 

“Captain, you know I can’t tell you that?”  Hugh groaned.

 

“It may be helpful to your case if you did.” Adam replied, and then leaned back into his chair, picked  up a pen and began to roll it back and forth between his fingers, “What is this all about really, Hugh?   Lawson told me some story about die hard Confederates who -”

 

“Lawson  told you what his brother told him to say.   He was partly right -” Hugh bit his bottom lip so hard that a  bead of blood broke through the skin, he shook his head, “You wouldn’t understand.  The Civil War never touched your cosy life back there on the Ponderosa.”

 

“Really?  And what exactly do you know about my life on the Ponderosa?”

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be offensive -” Hugh gulped, shook his head, wiped his mouth nervously on the back of his hand, “My real name is Jeffrey Metcalfe, I served as a Doctor  during the Civil War, under  Major General Sterling Price of the Missouri State Guard.   My first engagement was at Wilson’s Creek, some miles south west of Springfield. It was August 9^th 1861, and a victory for the Confederacy.   The second decisive battle of the war and we won …” he licked his dry lips, and shook his head, “The Generals said we had won, but I was working in the field hospital.  Do you know how many died during those battles?  Over 2000 men were casualties of that engagement.  1093 were Confederates.  And then, of course, the whole debacle raged on for years more, and the number of casualties increased.”

 

He stopped, Adam indicated the water jug and that he should help himself, which he did, gratefully.  After he had gulped down a full glass he shrugged,

 

“I lost count of the number of men I saw killed, the bodies that were thrown into pits all atop of one another. The limbs I hacked off - even now I wake up hearing their screams. I tried to be compassionate but there were so many -”

 

“So how does possession of these papers help ease your conscience, Doctor?”  Adam asked thoughtfully, while he steepled the fingers of his hands and tapped his mouth with them  as he contemplated the despondent figure before him.

 

“Do you know what it is like in the Southern States now?  After all the bloodshed, the misery?  All those blood soaked worthless years?  All those dreams …” he shook his head sadly, “With Russian support we could have taken control of the gold fields that exist in Alaska.   Gold enough to provide all we would need to rebuild the South.”

 

“To fight another war?” Adam asked placing his hands down upon the desk and looking at Hugh in surprise.

 

“No, no,  with the amount of gold available we would be in a bargaining position.  We could negotiate on our own terms.   A coalition Government, restoration of homes and property, of the economy.  Don’t you understand?  It was the only chance the South had …”

 

Adam shook his head as though he felt sorry for the man for having such delusions,

 

“And how would the Russians help you?”

 

“I don’t know what involvement they had, perhaps a proportion of the gold, after all, they’ve suffered their own economic losses recently with the Crimean War.  The Tsar needs all the help he can get, they’ve taken quite a beating.”

 

Adam pursed his lips, shook his head slightly and frowned.  It would make some sense he thought, the immediate cash flow from selling off Alaska, and then the back hander from those who would take control of the gold fields. He heard the knock on the door and Abbott looked into the room,  music still filtered from above decks, and he stepped into the room,

 

“Get the Sergeant of Marines here, Abbott.” Adam said before the man could open his mouth.

 

The door closed and Hugh sighed deeply, regretfully,

 

“You’re placing me under arrest?”

 

“Of course, you give me no choice.” Adam replied, “You won’t be able to escape from here, unless you take a running jump into the sea in the hope that a passing ice floe takes  you to safety.   We still need your expertise as the only doctor on board.  Have I your word that  you will do your best to comply at least with that assignment?”

 

“Of course, I never ever intended anything different.  No one will come to harm by my hand.”

 

“There will be a marine with you at all times.   When we reach America we shall have to put you in chains.  I’m sorry, but -”

 

“I understand.” he sighed, “I just wish you could understand, Captain, you’re a fair man and  I throw myself upon your compassion.”

 

Adam stared fixedly upon the far wall, a nerve at his temples throbbed,  his dark eyes didn’t move to look at him,

 

“Tell me, Doctor,  are there any others on board ship I should know about?  Anyone else who would have an interest in these papers?”

 

“No.” he shook his head, “Pelman -” he froze, his own lips had betrayed him and he darted a look of fear and self disgust at Adam who shrugged,

 

“It’s alright, I already know about Pelman.”

 

“He - didn’t expect you to get to complete your assignment.  Lebedev was supposed to have got the papers before you but -”

 

“Time and unforeseen occurrence, Hugh.  As the good book reminds us -” he looked then at the doctor who was looking more and more distressed, “I’m sorry -.”

 

The door opened and the Sergeant of Marines stepped inside.   Adam stood up,

 

“Sergeant, Doctor  Williamson is under arrest.  I want him to be kept under guard at all times.”

 

“Yes, sir.”  the man snapped out the words although his eyes looked anxious.  He was a soldier however and had obeyed orders for the past twenty years, he wasn’t going to change the habit of a lifetime now.

 

He saluted and then ushered the Doctor from the room.   Adam sighed and buried his face in his hands.  How he wished he were home now, home with his father and brothers, in the big room with the fire roaring up the chimney and hearing Hoss’ boom of a laugh.  He sat down and drew the log book towards him, picked up a pen and began to make the days latest entry . 

Chapter 55

 

“It’ll suit you.”

 

The deep voice just behind her made Barbara jump, and then, recognising the voice as that of Candy Canady, she relaxed and smiled, turned to face him

 

“That’s very kind of you, Mr Canady, but as you have no idea which bonnet I was actually looking at I don’t really think you are in a position to judge.”

 

“Personally, Miss Scott, I’d play safe and say any one of them would look good on you.  But -” he narrowed his eyes and frowned in concentration as he surveyed the array of bonnets in the shop, “I’d say the straw bonnet with the pink ribbons and flowers would be the one  you had your eye on.”

 

“Completely wrong, Mr Canady.” she laughed, it was always easy to laugh around Candy.  She stepped back from the store and looked up at him, “It isn’t often you’re in town, Mr Canady.”

 

“More often that you realise, ma’am, but with you shut up in that school house all day you’re not likely to notice.”

 

He had taken off his hat now, and she could see the blue of his eyes and the dark hair.  He was a good looking man and she was surprised that no woman had yet made a play for him.  They both turned together and began to walk towards the school.

 

“Joe told me about what happened to your Uncle.” he said suddenly, breaking what was becoming an uncomfortable silence between them, “He said Adam felt he had opened Pandora’s box at the time, what with Charley being killed as well.”

 

“It had to be revealed sooner or later, Mr Canady, it was immoral what they had done between them, that other man and Uncle.” she frowned slightly, “How is Joe now?”

 

“Enjoying life.” Candy smiled, he had a wide generous smile that brought the twinkle into his eyes, “Now that he’s downstairs and in a position to give orders everyone’s wishing he were back upstairs again.  The good news is that he’s already getting the feeling back in his legs.  Mr Cartwright’s more pleased than you can imagine.”

 

“Oh, I can imagine it very well, Mr Cartwright lives and breathes for those boys.” she laughed then, and put a hand to her face as though shy, “I’m sorry, they’re hardly boys anymore.”

 

“No, but that’s how Mr Cartwright sees them still.” Candy replied, twisting his hat round and round in his hands as he kept in step with her.  “How’s Miss Peggy getting on here?  I saw her riding out to the Ponderosa, passed her by as she rode on by.   She’s like her father, crazy on a horse.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t realise she was -” Barbara paused in alarm, and looked anxiously up at him, “She always seems so competent.”

 

“She is, thankfully, but crazy with it.”

 

She frowned slightly and together they continued onwards.  She was about to speak when he began first, then they both stopped, laughed at the hiatus that had created, and he nodded to indicate she should start the conversation

 

“I was thinking, Mr Canady, if you would mind very much calling me Barbara.”

 

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Scott, if you would repay me the compliment and call me Candy.   All my friends call me Candy.”

 

They smiled at one another, satisfied with the understanding they had reached together.   It seemed to Candy that Barbara Scott was one of those women that could be under estimated … for intelligence, beauty and sheer niceness of character.  Nor did he forget her industriousness, everyone in town spoke highly of her and the way she had brought the school round after that disastrous Mr Lloyd.  

 

“Joe’s been getting quite a few visitors lately, you know.” he said with another smile, “I don’t think Peggy will be very happy when she gets to the Ponderosa to-day.  There were already two buggies parked in the yard when I left.”

 

She laughed then and her hair seemed to shimmer in the sunlight,

 

“Young ladies, I gather?”

 

“Young and not so young.” he smiled, “Joe is in his element.  Hop Sing is struggling to keep smiling, he’s already threatened to quit twice this week.” he paused then, they had reached the hitching post that stood at the bottom of the school yard.  “Have you - I mean - you must miss Adam a lot?”

 

“Yes.  I do.”  she lowered her eyes, and her heart beat faster, “It’s difficult not having news of him.”

 

“I can understand that -” he frowned and sighed, “I felt the same when Ann -”

 

“Ann?”

 

“My wife - I mean - my ex-wife, when she left me.   |t takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?”  he looked at her and saw that she had the look of a lost child in her eyes and quite naturally he reached out and put a hand on her arm, “Of course, he will come back safely, you’ll see.”

 

“Thank you, I’m sure he will.” she flashed him a smile, one that didn’t touch the eyes, but that trembled a little on her lips, “I am sorry about your wife.”

 

“It took me a long time to even get around to calling her my ex-wife.  Guess I couldn’t face the truth -” he paused as a shadow fell across them and a tall well built man approached them, removing his hat as he drew closer.  Behind him trailed a little girl.

 

“Good morning, Miss Scott.” Mr Pearson smiled, and then looked at Candy rather warily, “I’ve not had the pleasure, sir?”

 

“Candy Canady.  I work for Mr Cartwright on the Ponderosa.”  Candy took the proffered hand and shook it warmly,

 

“Andrew Pearson, I’ve just taken over the Bar X homestead.  This is Lilith, my daughter.”

 

Candy nodded, shook Lilith’s hand very gently, and realising by the way Pearson was standing that he wanted to speak privately to Barbara, made his farewells and walked away.

 

“How is Lilith getting along, Miss Scott.”

 

“Very well,” Barbara began to walk up the slope towards the school, “She’s very gregarious, and is well above average for her age in the three R’s.” she smiled at Lilith who returned the smile with wide eyed sweetness.

 

“Miss Scott, may I ask a favour of  you?  Please say if you feel that I am over stepping the line, but I wondered -”

 

“Yes, Mr Pearson?” she smiled encouragingly at him.  He really was like a little boy standing there all flustered and nervous, but a nice looking boy for all that and tall, with strong shoulders and - she stopped herself, and felt herself blushing.  What must he think of her, she thought, goodness, I’m even ashamed of myself without having to think about what he’s thinking!

 

“Just that there’s a social in the Town Hall tomorrow night.  I wondered if I could take you.”

 

She looked at him with her mouth open, and blinked.   Then she shook her head,

 

“I am sorry, Mr Pearson, I really couldn’t do that -” she said in a low voice, “You have to realise, as Adam Cartwright’s fiancee, I- I couldn’t possibly go with you.”

 

“I am sorry.  I hadn’t realised that you were already spoken for.” he blushed now, and lowered his head.  “I’m really sorry, Miss Scott, please excuse my ignorance.”

 

“Oh you weren’t to know,” she sighed and stopped just by the steps leading to the school house, “It isn’t as if Adam’s here right now,  and not everyone knows officially anyway.  We were going to wait until he came home.”

 

“Will that be soon?”

 

He looked at her right in the eyes, and she could see herself in miniature reflected back.  She blinked, shook her head,

 

“I don’t know when he’ll be back.” she sighed.

 

“Then, in that case, should you go to the social with any other person, would you do me the honour of having a dance with me?” his serious face broke into a wide smile, as though she couldn’t possibly refuse him that request.

 

“I don’t even know if I shall be going, Mr Pearson, but - if I do go - I’d be delighted to have a dance with you.” and at the back of her mind she thought - Adam wouldn’t object, if he were here he would probably encourage me to be friendly to a newcomer.  Then she thought - it would do Peggy good to meet some other young ones at the social. 

 

She walked  up the steps to the school house and turned to ring the bell.  Mr Pearson was still standing there, watching her.  He smiled and she couldn’t but help smile back.

 

 

Chapter 56

 

Miss Petula and Miss Lavinia Barclay, sisters of a ‘certain’ age, simpered over their cups of tea as they sat decorously on their chairs along with Miss Peggy Dayton Cartwright, who was glowering, and Miss Susan Jane Fisher who was seated on the settee beside Widow Hawkins.

 

All eyes were fixed with great attention on Joe who held court from his wheelchair like some 15^th Century Turkish despot.   He was bestowing smiles to left and right, hoping that none of his visitors would feel neglected of his attentions, and complain later that he was showing favouritism.   He was, in fact, quite overwhelmed by the attention he was receiving now that he was downstairs, and see - sawed between enjoying it all, and being rather wearied of it.   He could see Laura glowering and that made him apprehensive, knowing that when the others left she would make sure she remained.   He kept casting looks in her direction to see whether her mood would lighten.

 

“And of course, Joseph dear,” Susan Jane smiled, “there’s the social at the Town Hall tomorrow night, which you will have the misfortune to miss.   Perhaps you would like a little company then as I am sure your brother and father will be going.”

 

“Aw, no,” Joe waved an airy hand and gave a nonchalant shrug, “We intend to stay put here tomorrow.  We’ve a lot planned ourselves.”

 

Hop Sing entered the room at that point and threw a deadly glare at the Tyrant, he placed a tray laden with cookies on the table with a thud so that they bounced rather and all the ladies looked askance at him as he returned, muttering beneath his breath, back to the kitchen.

 

“Is your cook alright?  ‘E seems a bit put out about something?” Clementine Hawkins asked before cramming one of the cookies into her mouth.

 

“Oh, he’s just fine, I guess he’s just a bit snowed under with the cooking.  This is his third batch of cookies -” Joe grimaced, “Please help yourselves, ladies.”

 

Only Peggy refrained from leaning forwards to take a cookie and exclaim about how well they were cooked, how sweet and palatable.

 

She watched Joe ‘holding court’ and slowly simmered with irritation.   She could remember as a little girl when Adam had been in a similar situation and had spent the time with her mother, his family and books.   No buggies clogged up the yard then, no girls came fawning and fluttering around then, just her mother who was already in love with another man and - and the unfairness of it all just made her seethe.  She rose to her feet with dignified restraint,

 

“Well, now, if you’ll excuse me I think it’s time I should leave.” she pulled on her gloves and glared at Joe, scorched all the ladies present with the heat of the look in her eyes, and walked with her head in the air from the room.  The door closed with a loud thud.

 

“She didn’t look too happy, did she?” Lavinia observed to her sister, who sighed and shook her head.

 

Joe smiled, shrugged and mumbled something about how Peggy had pressing business elsewhere and proceeded to ask Widow Hawkins if she had thought of selling her Burma Rarity yet.  This elicited a chorus of interest and unfortunately launched Clemmie into relating the story of how she came into possession of the rare emerald.  Joe sat, smiling occasionally, while his mind sauntered off in other directions.

 

It was, he thought, all very well getting this wonderful female attention, but there was no doubt about it, he was bored out of his skull.   He looked down at his legs and longed for the day when he could just step from the wheelchair and walk away from it.   He wanted to mount Cochise again, and ride over the Ponderosa.   There was the spring already slipping quickly into summer and the weeks had just passed through his fingers like sand.  It was horrible and he couldn’t help let a frustrated sigh slip by his lips.

 

No one noticed as Clemmie’s voice over rode most sounds.   There was a knock on the door and the only one who noticed was Hop Sing who hurried to open it, and to admit another simpering female.   Joe smiled at Lucy Makepiece who had arrived with a pie neatly folded in a gingham cloth which she passed to Hop Sing who accepted it as though it had just come from the oven and scalded his fingers.  Muttering oaths beneath his breath he bustled back to his lair and made more lemonade.

 

“Oh Joe, you look so well -” she cried taking the seat vacated by Peggy, and Joe smiled and thanked her.

 

The mixture of perfumes in the room was quite heady, he could feel his head swimming.   He allowed his mind to wander and as a result didn’t notice that the ladies had done what ladies often did when together, their heads all turned in towards each other,  and the phrase ‘Have you heard …’   ‘Well, would you believe…’  became regularly mentioned and Joe just sat, a captive in the wheelchair and totally ignored.

 

………………..

 

“What do you know about an Andrew Pearson, Hoss?”

 

Candy Canady glanced at his friend who was wiping his brow free from sweat as  he cast the branding iron back into the fire.  Hoss straightened his back and frowned,

 

“Andrew Pearson?  Ain’t he the guy who bought the Bar X a few weeks ago?”

 

“Reckon so -”

 

“I don’t know much about him.  Met him a few times at the Silver Dollar.  Seems a decent kind of guy.”  Hoss wiped his face again on his shirt sleeve, and glanced once again at Candy, “Why’d you ask?”

 

“No reason really. I just met him for the first time in town.  He was talking to Barbara Scott.”

 

“Oh.”  Hoss frowned, “He is a widower, I know that much.  Has children, ain’t he?”

 

“A little girl.”  Candy  recoiled his lariat, and the small calf ran free, bleating for its mother in protest at the treatment that had been meted out to it.

 

“Mmm,  well,  ain’t nothing in that then, guess he was jest settling the girl into school.”

 

Candy nodded and turned his horse around and back towards the herd.  There had been more calves born this season than had been for some years.   He thought of Joe enjoying the company of all those lovely girls and shook his head ruefully.   Trust Joe to find himself the better portion when there was work to be done.

 

………………..

 

Adam had spent some time in the sick bay with O’Brien.   It seemed to him ironic that the one man he felt he could really trust and needed at his side right now was incapacitated.   He had drawn his chair as close to the bed as possible and in a low voice had talked over various things with his second in command, who had given complete attention to his Captain before  slipping back into sleep.

 

Williamson had continued with his duties, and seemed unfazed by the Marine who followed him like a second shadow.   It was still his hope that the Captain would come to understand the situation from a different and less rigid perspective and on that premise he acted as though nothing out of the normal had happened at all.

 

Adam slept uneasily that night.  The cold crept into the cabin despite the fire being lit, and he wondered if there ever was any warmth in what he felt to be the most awful place on earth.   Then as he drifted into sleep the cabin was washed over by the colours of the most majestic aurora borealis display and he chided himself for being so judgemental as his eyes closed on what he could only consider to be a very disappointing day.

……………………….

 

Ben Cartwright paced the floor  of the big room with a restlessness that had been growing more and more throughout the day.    All the time that had passed since Adam had left and there had been no news from him whatsoever.  Nothing!   Anxiety gnawed deep claws into him, and he felt as though something inside of himself was tearing him in half.

 

Hoss glanced up and frowned, bit his lip and sighed.  He knew exactly what was fretting his Pa.    It had happened before when Adam had been away at sea.  No news for so long and then Pa would start getting edgy.   It was like he would soon be eating the carpet out of frustration.   Then there would be a letter, maybe even two or three all coming at the same time and Pa would be like a bird soaring heavenwards, trilling happily for days on end and then slowly slipping back down to earth.

 

Joe picked at his nails and waited for Hoss to make the next move in the game of checkers they were playing.   He also kept casting anxious looks a their parent, and wondering if his father would ever come to terms with the fact that his eldest son was far away from home.

 

Hoss made his move.   A fatal one,  and Joe seized upon it immediately to claim victory once again.   He gave a crow of triumph and grinned.  

 

“Got ya again, Hoss.”

 

“Yeah, sure did.”  Hoss nodded.

 

“Another game?”

 

“Nah, I’m too tired.  I’m going to bed.    Do you want me to take you upstairs, Joe?”

 

The worse part of the day.   Being carried like an infant up and down those stairs.  Joe looked at the stairs with loathing.  

 

“Joe?”  Hoss sounded irritated and Ben turned, shook his head at Hoss as though reminding him that he had two strong arms and legs, and a good back too, don’t get snappy with your little brother.

 

“Sure, you can help me up stairs if you like -” Joe sighed and when Hoss came to lean down and pick him up from the chair Joe said, “I said you can help me up the stairs, not carry me.”

 

“Can you do that, Joe?  Can you really do that?”

 

“I don’t know.  Just quit crowding on me, Hoss.   Here - give me your arm.”  

 

He leaned forward and took his brothers arm, and hauled himself up onto his legs.  They were shaky, weak, and he fell back into the chair harder than he had expected.  Ben was there now, holding the chair steady so that it wouldn’t roll back or tip over. 

 

“Try again, son.”

 

“Alright, alright  - just give me a minute.”   Joe felt his heart was pounding so hard he couldn’t get the words out right.  He heaved in a deep breath, went rather red in the face and with Hoss’ help once again rose to his feet.

 

He could feel the floor beneath his feet as solid as rock.   His knees were wobbly, and his hips seemed incredibly weak, but he forced himself to put a foot forward.

 

“Hey, Hop Sing - come and see this,” Hoss yelled, “Joe’s walking -”

 

Hop Sing came into the room and watched, he nodded his head and smiled.  He uttered the Cantonese equivalent of  ‘Praise be -’ and returned to his room.   Thankfully no more girls needing lemonade and cookies.   He rolled  his eyes and shook his head.  It had been a hard time.

 

Chapter 57

 

He was standing by the helmsman, Gibbs, when there came the first sign of the other ship.  A faint black smudge on the horizon.   He raised his telescope to his eye and fixed it upon their pursuer.  A Russian man of man hove into view.  She was steel plated, steam driven.  He watched as the ship cleaved through the waters like a hot knife would cut through butter.  

 

He knew the men had spotted her.  Some were already hanging on the sides of the ship to take a better look and there were exclamations as to her size and speed.  It was like a tiger prowling after a butterfly.

 

“She’s moving fast.” Timothy Masters observed as he looked through his telescope at the approaching ship.

 

“I didn’t think the Russians had got round to building ships like that yet.” Richard Friend muttered.   “Do you think they have rockets on board?  I heard they used rockets during the Crimean war.”

 

Adam said nothing,  he kept the glass steady and measured the speed at which the Russian ship was moving.   11 knots as compared to their 9.   He looked at Gibbs

 

“Full speed, Gibbs.   Masters, run a halyard to raise the mainsail.” he raised the telescope to his eye again and frowned, “They aren’t pretending that this is going to be a peaceful encounter, are they? “

 

“No sir, I can’t make out her clear, but I reckon she’s still hull-down.”

 

“Aye, she is that - but all gun ports open.”

 

Richard Friend approached, saluted, and waited for orders.

 

“Get the men assembled.” Adam said quietly and waited for the inevitable shouting down the line for the men to assemble .   They came from all directions, all leaving their allotted posts for the time being and waiting to hear what the Captain had to say.

 

“Men,  the Russian ship is on the horizon,  she has a good speed on her, but looks to me rather over loaded with guns which could make her clumsy during any sharp manoeuvre.  Be that as it may, we won’t really find out until she’s close at range.  Prepare for battle.  Open the gun ports, Mr Nicolson.  Get to your stations.  God speed.”

 

He smiled then, and raised  his hat to them.   Then he turned to once again take up the telescope and view the other ship.   He could hear feet pounding the deck, the sound of gun ports being opened and the guns running out on their carriages.   He flexed each shoulder in turn, ignored the pain from his wound, and the cold that burned his throat whenever he opened his mouth. 

 

“She’s closing the gap, sir.” Gibbs said.

 

“Yes.  She has a good turn of speed on her.”

 

Masters came and positioned himself by Adam’s side, ready to take his orders and relay them down to the men.   Adam looked at him and raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.   Gibbs glanced at the younger man,

 

“Have you ever been in a battle at sea, Lieutenant Masters?”

 

“Indeed yes, Mr Gibbs.” Masters replied, “I was on the Kearsarge  under Captain John Winslow.    We found the Confederate Ship Alabama at Cherbourg in June 64, blocked the harbour, then sailed well clear of territorial waters.  We met the Alabama and she opened fire first.  We were 1000 yards or thereabouts and it was a fair raking battle.”

 

“The Alabama lost because of the poor quality of her powder and shell,” Adam murmured, “It had been stored over long.”

 

“Aye, sir, so they say.” Masters replied, “But I think the Kearsarge gained the advantage because of the  added protection we had from the chain cable triced in tiers along her sides at the most vital places.   It only took an hour to sink the Alabama.”

 

“Do you know what happened to the Alabama’s Officers?”

 

“Captain Semmes was picked up by a British ship, sir.  I think about 40 of his men went with him”

 

Adam nodded and glanced over his shoulder to observe his men.  Casual chat on the forecastle between the Captain and his officers enforced confidence in the men, and he could see that he had no worries on that score as his men waited for  what could be the moments that would mean life or death to them all.

 

Once again Adam raised the telescope to his eye and watched as the Russian steamed towards them.   He turned to observe the sails,  ordered that the shrouds be raised to support the masts, walked to the side to observe how the ship was manoeuvring through the ice which every so often seemed to close in around her.   She was making steady progress, to the left of her was the sheer wall of ice from a glacier and to the right ice floes that were breaking up as she cut her way through them.

 

“Steady,  Gibbs.   Steer to starboard.”

 

“Aye Captain.”

 

“I can make out her name now, sir.” Masters observed, as he looked through his glass, “it’s the Kamshatka.”

 

“Very apt for this area then,” Adam said and once again approached the side of the ship.  “Lieutenant Friend -” he called to the other officer who was standing at his station at the head of the guns to port side.

 

“Aye Captain.”

 

“Train your guns on the glacier and bring it down.”  he frowned, “Perhaps we can slow her down somewhat,  at least we can try.” he said in an undertone.

 

Gibbs and Masters exchanged a glance.   If the Captain was making an attempt to slow the Russian ship down did that mean they were going to make an attempt to out run her?   Had the Captain lost his stomach for a fight after all?

 

The guns roared … one, two, three and so forth …  perfect timing.  Nicolson looked at the Captain and waited for the nod of approval.  

 

“Look at her go -” Masters whispered

 

His words were echoed in the minds and mouths of others as they watched the magnificent tower of ice crumble and shatter like so much glass.   Piece by piece tumbled, crashed, cannoned into the sea sending the waters boiling up into great waves that tossed the Ainola as though she were made of paper.   But the Russian ship, much closer to the glacier, caught the full brunt of the cascading ice.   As Adam raised his glass to his eye he saw the Kamchatka seemingly disappear beneath the waters.   He waited, holding his breath, he could hear Masters beside him breathing fast,

 

“Has she gone down?” Masters whispered

 

“No,  she’s up.   But she has had to slow down to make her way through the bergs.” Gibbs grinned, “Don’t seem like there’s going to be much of a fight today, Captain.”

 

“We’ll see,” Adam said, “It depends on the calibre of the Captain and his crew.” he leaned upon the taffrail and looked down at the turbulent waters. 

 

It troubled him to fight against this Russian.  His first orders had been to remain on peaceable terms, but Lebedev had changed all that, Lawson and Williamson as well, they had played their part in changing those orders.   The fact that the Russian was coming after them indicated no peaceable motives on their part, and he was prepared to fight, and fight hard, as he knew his men were prepared to do also, he sighed, and returned to where Gibbs and Masters awaited him.

 

The waters around the Ainola had steadied now and she was keeping to a good speed.   The Russian was still hull down on the horizon, seemingly lumbering along now.    In his heart of hearts Adam hoped that they would outdistance them, and reach a safe haven without having to fight, but lumbering or not, the Russian ship was still in pursuit of the Ainola and that indicated nothing good.  

 

 

Chapter 58

 

“Ice berg ahead”

 

The warning shout from the barrelman posted in the crow’s nest sent Adam to place a cautionary hand on Gibbs’ arm.   The man was excellent at his post, but as Captain, Adam still needed to be in a position of command even when a seaman may think he knows what action to take, he was still under the blanket discipline necessary on board ship.

 

“Take it slowly, Gibbs.”

 

“Aye, Captain.”

 

“Bo’sun, see to your sails, sir.”

 

“Yaar, Cap’n.”

 

“Reef the sails, man.”

 

Now the men began the tasks of reducing the amount of sail on the ship, assisting in slowing her before the wind, and making it easier for the helmsman to steer her past the ice.   Remembering only too well that seven eighths  of a berg was under the sea, Gibbs  had to keep his eye on the sails, as well as the ice that could rip the bottom of the ships hull from under her.

 

The men tensed as they edged closer and closer to the ice.  From the quarter deck Masters and Thomas clutched at the taffrail and held their breath.  The men were pulling hard at the reef points, reducing the area of the sails while the bo’sun, responsible for the sails, ropes and boats on the ship, out hauled as hard as he could on the line used to control  them

 

As they slid past the berg there came an explosion from behind them, and then another.  

 

“The Russian’s firing at us, Captain.”

 

“Just judging the distance, Gibbs.”  Adam replied, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes fixed intently on the vast wall of ice which totally  dwarfed them, “Just concentrate on the task at hand.”

 

“Aye, sir.”

 

Another explosion  and those at the stern of the ship caught the back lash of it as water fell in heavy drops upon them.

 

“Seems they’re judging the distance pretty well, Captain.” Gibbs muttered.

 

“Two points toStarboard, Gibbs.”

 

Masters and Thomas looked at one another anxiously as another canister hit the sea and exploded.   This time some of the shot came with the water and two of the men were hit with the lead balls that had been contained within it.

 

“Two men down, sir.”

 

“How badly?” Adam asked leaning forward to see for himself.

 

“Not too bad -” it was Hanratty, and he gave the Captain a swift salute.  His head was bleeding and Adam nodded

 

“Get that checked out and then return to  your post”

 

“Yes,  sir.”

 

“Huh, would be Hanratty.  He’s a right malingerer.”  Gibbs grumbled as they watched Hanratty and the other seaman scuttle away to get attention to their wounds.

 

The Ainola continued to edge pass the berg,  slowly now, Masters leaned forwards and looked down into the depths of the black sea to try and discern the shape of the berg as it bottomed out beneath the water, but it was inky black and he could discern nothing.     The bo’sun and some other men came with the weighted ropes and tossed them over the side, holding  on to the end and playing them out as they passed the ice.  If they played out to the depth of the ship and more they could consider themselves in reasonably safe waters.

 

………………

 

Captain Pavel Senyavin  lowered his telescope with an air of satisfaction.   He smiled and nodded, and paced the quarterdeck as his men reloaded the guns.  

 

“You see how he runs?  And where does he run to?  Into the jaws of death I tell you, that is where he runs to -”  he smacked his fist into the palm of his other gloved hand and thrust out his chest, “just the thing he wanted to do to us with the ice, he finds himself in the same trap.   So -”  he glanced at his second in command who nodded with satisfying readiness.

 

“Aim - athwart ships”  came the cry from the armourer.

 

“You see - they have to turn out of the wind to avoid the ice berg.” Pavel grinned, “Excellent, they leave themselves wide open -”  he glanced across to the ice bergs that were still crumbling and calving into the sea around them, the vibration of the explosives having a continuous effect upon their weakened seams now so that their ship was tossed high and low as a result of the vast chunks of ice crashing around them.

 

“We need to get away from here -”  Dimitry Doestov murmured, “Or  we will be crushed.”

 

“Captain -” one of the Officers hurried towards the Russian, and Pavel looked with vexation down at him, “More explosives and the whole wall of ice will come down on us.”

 

Pavel hesitated, more than anything he wanted to avenge Lebedev.   It seemed to him unthinkable that an American could insult Russia and sail away, free from harm, when he had it in his power to destroy him and remove the insult.  Certainly he had no knowledge of any papers, of Irena Pestchouroff,  but he knew that Lebedev had been on an assignment for Russia and being a patriot from the roots of his hair down to his toe nails, Pavel sought to avenge him,

 

“We have the ship in our sights - athwart ships it is,” cried the armourer.

 

“Athwart ships it is,” yelled the gunner.

 

The ship rocked from the aftermath of the canisters going off.    Pavel watched with satisfaction as they winged death towards the enemy.   One exploded, the other exploded.  He turned, smiled,  shook Dimitry by the hand

 

“She will sink.  There’s no saving her now.  Curse the American.” and he laughed aloud and only stopped when he realised that Dimitry wasn’t laughing.

 

Chapter 59

 

The helmsman swung at the wheel but it was too late to avoid the horrendous fall of ice that simply collapsed down upon them.   The initial impact thrust the ship away, where it bobbed haplessly up and down upon the waves.   The men were tossed from the decks and sent from one side to the boat to the other, some succeeded in clinging to the taffrail, others to the  hatches over the hold,  down below decks men were tumbled one over the other and made a rush to the stairs to avoid the water that rushed in upon them only to be sent back down as torrents of water and ice thrust them down.

 

Of the Captain there was now no sign, and Dimitry had managed to grip hold of the capstan which had saved him from following wherever the Captain had gone.    The sea was churned up as though some great sea monster had erupted from its depths, and the ship suddenly appeared like a cork twirling round and round the maelstrom.

 

On the Ainola the effects of the heaving seas were also felt as she was thrust against the ice that she had been so gingerly creeping past.   The wounds to her hull from the explosion were now coupled by the splintering wood on her port side beam.  Now the waves tossed her upwards, sending Officers and crew off their feet and sliding, tumbling one upon the other as the waves crashed over  her decks.

 

In the sick bay O’Brien struggled to keep in his cot, failed and fell onto the floor now awash with sea water.   Williamson  waded towards him to give him assistance only to be cast off his feet as the ship was tossed high once again.   O’Brien rolled, grabbed the side of the cot and heaved himself into it as though only within its confines did he feel safe.

 

Hanratty was thrust against the beam ends and then tumbled back with such force that when he landed the position was  such that it broke his neck.   As the water sloshed out of the door and back onto the decking his lifeless body floated out with it.

 

Back she was flung into the water and then tossed high, the noise of the crashing ice, the waves that rumbled and thrust forwards anything in their path, prevented any man on board hearing the loud crack as the main mast snapped and slowly fell, snagged upon its rigging and the backstays that supported it.  

 

The cries of the men as the sea dashed them against the ships sides, or tumbled them into the sea to be lost forever were sounds that filled Adam’s ears more than even the roaring of the sea and the crashing of the ice.  

 

The one thought that went through his mind was that if it went on for much longer there would be no life left, no ship upon which to sail and no hope for any soul there.  Gibbs rolled against him, and grabbed at his hand which Adam seized while with the other hand he held fast to a hawser.   Together they fought against the wash of the sea and clung to the only tangible thing that was at hand.

 

Now the mast cracked again and fell lower, its main sheets hanging like shrouds, filling and then emptying with the water that lashed over and through them.

 

The Russian ship was floundering, more of the crew were in the water than out of it.  It righted itself and listed to starboard, then a wave hit it amidships and tossed it onto its stern.  

 

And then everything stopped.

 

The sea levelled out as the ice ceased falling.   The Ainola steadied up, righted itself, and water began to find its own way of ebbing out of the ship.   One by one the men roused themselves.   Some more quickly than others.   Adam and Gibbs pulled one another to their feet, and shook hands as though the encounter had forged more than the common bond between seamen.  Noticing the wheel was spinning aimlessly and the ship was listing to port Gibbs  flung himself upon it, steadied both himself and the wheel, and struggled to get back his breath.

 

The silence rang in their ears.  All the thunderous noise that had gone on before still filled their heads.  Men staggered to their feet, looked around at one another, amazed to find themselves alive, relieved and surprised to find that others had survived also.  The ship, although damaged, was still afloat and while a ship was still floating  she was repairable.

 

The worse damage was having to face the fact that lives had been lost.   

 

Chapter 60

 

“Mr Masters ?”

 

“Here, Captain.”

 

The officer appeared from some debris of what had been a hatchway, he pulled himself upright and faced his captain who was looking down  at him with anguish large in his dark eyes and black hair streaking his face

 

“Mr Master - organise boat parties, get as many survivors as you can.” Adam’s voice wavered, “Hurry, man, every second counts.”

 

“Yes, sir.”  Masters turned, calling out to men who were still struggling to get their feet, while boats where already being loosened as the men had heard their Captain’s orders.

 

“Mr Thomas -”  Adam glanced around the mess sprawled before him, wreckage from the shattered beams, the sheets and the sails flailed across the decking, burying men, whose arms and legs could be seen, some of the bodies moving as they strove to get disentangled and stagger to their feet.  Mr Thomas was one of them, and even though he was dazed and held a hand to his brow where blood was freely flowing he turned to his Captain

 

“Sir?”

 

“Take a boat,  get to the Russian ship, there may be survivors there - I need you to help them.”

 

Thomas said nothing,  turned on his heel after a hasty salute and snapped his fingers to several men as he passed them on his way to a boat.  He passed Masters on the way who indicated one boat the side of which had been smashed, caught by the rigging of the mast as it came down.

 

“Bo’sun, get the carpenters on deck to repair the damage here.  Fix a jerry mast at least.  Get the men -” he paused, doubled over as the pain caught him sharply from the wound he had received and was now pulled open.    He thrust his hand inside his jacket, and clenched his fist against it, “Get the men seen to -”

 

He watched the bo’sun scuttle away, organising those men still able to move to helping to pull away the debris on the deck and to attend to those men trapped there under.   Adam leaned against the taffrail

 

“Jackson - you there fellow -”

 

“Yes.. Sir?”

 

“Take a party of men and check below decks that there are no men trapped there.  Mr Davies?”

 

“Here, sir?”

 

“Relieve Mr Gibbs  here -” he turned to Gibbs and placed a firm hand on the man’s arm, “Get to sick bay and get checked out.”

 

“I’m alright, sir.”   Gibbs insisted but seeing the set look on his Captain’s face he nodded, “Thank you, sir.”

 

“While you are below, Gibbs, check on the cook and get him to prepare something hot, plenty of it, as soon as possible.”  Adam frowned, it wasn’t going to be easy, there would be a stove to fire up, and the fuel all wet.

 

All wet,  every single thing in and on the ship soaked with the coldest water on earth.  He raised his head and looked at the sky, from no where the birds had appeared and clouds were gathering.   He looked at the water and the vast quantity of ice now floating , converging, merging and melding about them.   He saw the bodies of men, broken timbers, floating in the black water  along with the debris from the other ship.  He wrenched his eyes from the sight and turned to see the progression of the boats now being rowed through the water, but so slowly as they edged around the ice, pushed aside the bodies that were already face down in the water and dead.

 

Adam shivered.  There was a coldness far colder than anything else he had experienced penetrating his whole body.  He looked at Davies who was now in control of the steering wheel.  

 

“Can you set a course for the Kamchatka through this ice, Mr Davies?”

 

“I can, sir.”  Davies replied in a sombre tone of voice which made Adam look at him with a raised eyebrow, “Just that it don’t seem hardly any point.  There won’t be any survivors in these seas, sir.  Seen it before, the shock of the cold water stops the heart within minutes.”

 

“You’re no doubt right, Mr Davies, but we need to make sure.  Even if we can save one life out of this debacle it will be worth the effort, don’t you agree?”

 

“Of course, Captain.”  Davies nodded but he didn’t think the life of even one Russian worth the risk of damaging ‘his’ ship any further.

 

The men had not worked together as a ship’s crew for  as long as some ship’s companies, where the longer they were together the better organised and better disciplined they would become, but they were men accustomed to working as a unit, and getting on with their tasks.   Like a well oiled machine they now laboured together, each at their different tasks, to remove the debris, clear it away, carry the dead with dignity to the far side of the deck where they were lain down side by side for their fellow ship mates to see and pay their respects to later. 

 

Those who were injured took themselves off to the sick bay if possible or were assisted there by those less injured.  There were those who took their injuries lightly and worked along with the others to restore order to the ship.   Sergeant Duke Day and several of his marines had commandeered a boat to search for survivors, his blue jacket bold in colour against the bleak background.

 

Adam went down the ladder to the lower deck and threaded his way through the men and debris, each man he passed he placed a reassuring hand upon their back or shoulder as though in acknowledgement of the hardship they had endured and the industriousness they were now displaying.

 

Soaked through,  dishevelled, frozen with cold every man there bowed their backs to their tasks, warming their blood by action.

 

He went down the ladder to the sick bay which was still ankle deep in water.   He approached the cot where O’Brien lay, and caught at his hand

 

“Captain -” O’Brien whispered, “I feel so useless here - is there nothing I can do?”

 

Adam bowed his head and frowned, gripped the mans hand tightly in his own,

 

“You can tell me that I’m not responsible for all this,” he said quietly, “Tell me that my stupidity hasn’t destroyed the lives of so many and that my actions were perfectly in order for the situation we were in at the time.”   he replied bitterly, “If I hadn’t had the glacier fired upon -”

 

“No,” O’Brien raised himself on his good elbow, and shook his head, “No, you can’t do this now.  You can’t blame yourself, for heavens sake, man, you acted in a way to save this ship, and its crew.”

 

“And succeeded in killing a good third of them.”  Adam’s voice shivered, broke, and he shook his head, “I should have just waited for the Russian to engage -”

 

“And be blown to smithereens as a result?   The same thing would have happened as has happened, sir, the ice would have shattered under the cannonade.”

 

“But not because of my orders -”

 

O’Brien gripped his Captain’s hand and his fingers tightened around Adam’s wrist like a vice

 

“There are times we all have to face a decision and there is ahead of us only one course to take.  We take it praying for a solution to whatever matter we are seeking to resolve.  But we can’t take into account the mind set of any other individual .  If the Russian had hove to instead of opening fire on us, all would have been well. The man was crazy -”

 

Adam shook his head unconvinced.   His head still rang with the sounds of dying men and he knew he would never forgive himself for what he considered a rash and careless action on his part.   He released O’Brien’s hand

 

“And how are you, no worse for all this?” he forced a note of jollity into his voice, but his interest was sincere, for his friend looked unwell, as did, in all honesty, most of the men he had seen during the past while.

 

“I’ll be up and about soon, sir, I promise you.”

 

“In your own time, Daniel.” Adam replied to this rash promise and he turned away, and approached Williamson,  “Well?”

 

The doctor straightened his back and looked at the Officer, shook his head,

 

“A bad business, sir.”

 

“Yes.  How  many injured here?”

 

“Fifteen.”

 

“Dying?”

 

“No, fifteen most walking wounded, fit for duty.”

 

“What else?”

 

“Three dead.   Two dying.”   Williamson looked at Adam with honest appraisal, “There would have been more dying had the Russian ship engaged us in battle, sir.”

 

“You  haven’t seen how many are dead in the water.” Adam growled.

 

“I appreciate that, but I haven’t had to amputate any limbs as yet, nor see any man choked to death by their own blood.   Those men would have died quickly,  snuffed out as though fallen asleep.”

 

Adam looked at the doctor steadily, nodded with a blank expressionless face, and left the sick bay with his head reeling, pain burning from his injury and blood seeping through his wet bandages and shirt into his fingers.

 

He paused on the deck and looked around him.  The carpenters - despite Josef’s critical judgement of them - were working hard, the hammering and sawing going on was commendable,  things already looked clearer and tidier.  A good ship was a tidy ship as the old saying expressed it, and this was becoming , at least, a tidy ship.  He made his way to his own cabin, and once there sunk gratefully into the chair by his desk.

 

Abbott was already there, tidying the room, clearing the mess of papers and books.   He looked at the Captain, and smiled,

 

“Not too bad here, sir, the beds dry and your books not much damaged.”

 

Adam looked at him, shook his head, then observed the desk - there was the log book,  the maps,  his pens and ink wells set out neatly.   He thought of the steward,  a man who scuttled about between him and the crew, taking orders to others,  fussing and twittering, but this was his task, caring for the Captain.  It wasn’t much, not really, not when men risked their lives each day mounting the rigging,  sheeting the sails, but it was his job to make life smoother more comfortable for the master of the ship.  Adam  looked back at Abbott, smiled,

 

“Thank you, Abbott.  It looks - looks very good.”

 

“I’ll see if there’s some hot coffee for you, sir.  Cook has the stove alight .. It won’t be much yet but - perhaps it will  help - a little?”

 

There were tears in the man’s eyes.  He was looking at the Captain as though about to burst into tears.  Adam thought the poor  man must have been terrified by what had happened, perhaps he had lost a close friend, someone  stretched out on the deck, or lying face down in the sea.  He nodded,

 

“Thank, Abbott,  that’s very good of you.”

 

“Yes, sir … thank you, sir.”

 

“I’m sorry this had to happen, Abbott.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault, sir.” Abbott replied, “It was those Russians throwing their bombs at us, that’s what done it, sir.”

 

He left the cabin, left the Captain deep in thought and misery.  ‘Was it though, was it the Russians fault?’ and he clasped his hands together as though in prayer, and only then noticed the blood staining his hands.   His own blood,  but,  he shivered, somehow symbolic.

 

Chapter 61

 

Williamson was in the room and Adam wasn’t too sure when he had appeared, except that suddenly he was there, stripping off the wet clothes and unwrapping the bandages to check on the wound.   It was only when the doctor had prodded around the injury that some sense returned to his mind, and he snapped out of the comatose state he had drifted into.

 

“This has reopened then?  I expected that it would.”  Williamson frowned,  and began to clean the wound carefully, “It isn’t infected.   I’ll keep a closer eye on it for now, make sure it heals.” he glanced up into the Captain’s face and then lowered his gaze,  “Of course, I should imagine there are other wounds not so easily cared for that you are bearing just now, Captain.    You can talk to me, if you wish, I am a doctor after all, and talking is good, they say, for the soul.”

 

Adam’s brow furrowed slightly,  but he turned his head and stared fixedly at the far wall as Williamson continued to prod and then with a murmur of satisfaction padded the wound well before beginning to bind it.

 

“Are you blaming yourself then?  All this that happened?  You wouldn’t be the first Commanding Officer I’ve served under to do that, most decent men do, you know.   They see an opportunity and seize it, and order their men to fight for their lives, without telling them that most of them are actually going to die within the next few minutes.  What you did was done to prevent this ship from being  blown apart, Adam, you took the initiative, the only one available to you.  Had it not been necessary for us to slow down when that berg appeared the Russian would never have dared fire on us.”

 

“I should have noticed the ice berg and realised -”

 

“Chance and unforeseen occurrence, Adam, it happens all the time in life.”   Hugh secured the bandage and then stepped back, he surveyed Adam thoughtfully, “I’ve not heard one man grumble about the decision you took today.   Praise yes, criticise no.   You can’t blame yourself for the actions of others.”

 

Adam glanced down at his hands, then stared at his desk, at the log book.  He shook his head,

 

“I’ve lost some good men today,  and all needlessly.”

 

“Any man lost in war dies needlessly.”

 

“Do you think -” he paused and stopped, then turned his eyes back to the desk, “Have the boats returned yet, do you know, Hugh?”

 

“Not yet.   You’ll know soon enough when they do,” the doctor replied and placed a kindly hand on Adam’s shoulder.

 

Abbott appeared in the cabin with a tray upon which was the Captain’s coffee.  It  brought with it a tantalising aroma that helped remove the other smells that now permeated the whole ship.  Hugh smiled, and turned to his medical bag from which he took out a small phial,

 

“Take the prescribed dose, it will keep infection at bay and reduce fever.”  he looked sternly into Adam’s face and smiled, “I had best return to the sick bay before my guard gets worried.”  He pulled a wry grimace but Adam had already averted his eyes from the man, his mind on other things than the fact that Hugh Williamson was supposed to be under guard.

 

He nodded in agreement however,  and watched the doctor  leave the cabin.  Then he noticed Abbott, hovering by the desk with the tray

 

“Have you had anything to drink yet, Abbott?”

 

“Not yet, sir.”

 

“Why not get yourself something now.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The door closed.  Adam picked up the coffee cup and inhaled the bitter smell, it brought back memories of home, Hop Sing bustling about and ordering everyone out of his kitchen, Joe laughing, Hoss chuckling, Ben - he sighed - what, he wondered, would his father have done in the current circumstances.    As he nursed the hot cup to thaw out his fingers, he replayed in his mind once again his course of action from the moment he had seen the Russian ship upon the horizon, and once again he went over the alternatives, over and over in his mind until the knock on the door  jerked him out of  never ending cycle.

 

 Richard Friend entered the room,  saluted and begged the Captain’s pardon but could he come on deck as  the boats had returned.

 

There had been survivors.  Not many, but each boat that returned had survivors in them.    Each new face was a welcoming sight, and each man received a cheer from the ship’s company as they stepped on board the deck.   They were hurried away to the sick bay, swallowed up into its dark environs, to be given possibly dry blankets, a hammock upon which to rest, medication where needed.

 

Lieutenant Masters approached and saluted.  His face looked pinched and grey, as did the other men who had piloted the other rescue boats.

 

“Beg to report, sir, that we recovered every living soul we could find.   Do you wish us to go back now and retrieve the bodies -”

 

“No,  there’s little point as they will only be returning there in a short while.   You are all exhausted as it is.  Thank you, men.”

 

They saluted and wearily made their way to their quarters, or, if they could, to their work.    Adam took the steps up to the quarter deck and looked over the cold waters, with the menacing ice bergs and watched as a lone boat began to row back towards them.   Philip Thomas was piloting the last rescue boat and among the men pulling the oars there were huddled  twelve other men.   So, some Russians had survived.   He grimaced, shrugged, and approached Davies.

 

Together they watched as the boat drew closer, taking care to circumnavigate around the ice floes.  

 

“Twelve men, Davies”

 

“Aye, sir.” the helmsman nodded and bit his lip, better to keep what one was thinking in ones head at this moment, he mused.

 

They weighed anchor, reefed the sails.   The ship was now at rest.  The carpenters banged and thumped, sawed and chiselled,  and the men went about their duties with the discipline honed over the years.  A seaman is that rare creature who does not linger over death, to mourn over long.  Each man there living had faced death that day, and come out the victor.   True, they had dead companions on the deck awaiting their burial at sea, but even that confirmed the fact that they themselves were living.  It wasn’t long before someone was whistling at his work, and another began to hum along to the tune.   Far from appearing a doom laden ship, it had suddenly become a busy, bustling place to be, far from being weighted down by the cold and the wet, their work invigorated them, sent warm blood coursing through their veins, brought a smile and a laugh and a song.

 

 Adam watched them carefully, he caught Davies eye upon him, he smiled, and the helmsman returned the smile, relaxed and together they  waited for Thomas’ return.

 

………………

 

Dimitry   Doestov  sat in the Captains cabin with a blanket wrapped around him, the mug of hot tea knocking against his teeth as he attempted to drink it.   He sat and listened as the Bo’sun gave his report to the Captain, and then Philip stepped up and gave his report of finding the survivors of the Russian ship clinging to the upturned hull.   It was Philip’s opinion, supported by Doestov , that most of the Russian seaman had been trapped in the interior of the ship, unable to get out because of the swiftness of events.   

 

Dimitry watched the Captain thoughtfully, noticed how the well shaped hands clenched and unclenched during the giving of the reports, but how the handsome face had remained impenetrable.   He drank his tea slowly, savouring the heat as it slipped down into his stomach, and he sat and observed, liking the man seated opposite him more and more.   When the door finally closed Adam turned to wards his guest and smiled,

 

“My apologies, sir, but you understand the importance of getting reports swiftly, being an officer yourself.”

 

“Indeed, Capitan, it is something I do understand.  Being not only an officer but a gentleman also, these things are important as you say.”

 

Adam smiled again, nodded in affirmation and watched the Russian thoughtfully.  Doestov was not unlike Lebedev in some ways, the same rather affected manner which seemed the mode of the Russian aristocrat, the same thin features and dark colouring.   He lowered his eyes and looked at his blotter for a second before looking up to find the Russian staring at him with a rather strange upon his face,

 

“Something you want to say,  Lieutenant Doestov?”

 

“I was thinking of my Capitan.  Pavel Senyavin.” a slight furrow creased his brow, “A fool, an incompetent fool.”

 

“Why do you say that?  Didn’t you agree with his actions today?”

 

“You see where his actions today have led us?” Dimitry shrugged, widened his eyes in amazement that anyone could doubt the lunacy of his superior officer, “He destroyed us.”

 

“What exactly were you doing in these waters, anyway, Lieutenant Doestov,  why were you pursuing us?”  he leaned forward slightly, as though the answers were of great interest to him

 

“Senyavin had his orders as I had mine, and as Lebedev had his … in Russia we do not always know the orders of our fellow officers.  Lebedev we knew had to be taken to Alaska.   He, like myself, belong to a great family in Russia.  Senyavin was not …” a shrug of the shoulders, “he was from peasant stock so he was - as you would say - ambitious to climb the ladder?  Right, da?”

 

Adam nodded, Lebedev then was indeed involved just as he had thought, he shrugged now and leaned back into his chair, toyed with a pen.

 

“So you were ordered to drop Lebedev off at a certain point and pick him up afterwards?”

 

“Da, is right.”  Dimitry nodded, put down his empty cup and began to feel among his pockets, until he found, to his satisfaction,  a silver cigerette case.  He opened it and looked at Adam, “You like?”  when Adam shook his head, Dimitry shrugged, “You permit?”  Adam nodded and with a sigh Dimitry lit his cigarette and began to inhale deeply, “Lebedev was my cousin.   He persuaded me to come because he didn’t trust Pavel. But -” he spat out a bit of tobacco,  inhaled again, “Pavel, like many of his class, was crazy Russian.  Always everyone not Russian is the enemy.  We find Lebedev dead and Pavel goes to soldiers and asks questions.  Not questions to get truth, questions that let him have what he wants, an excuse to pursue American ship.”

 

“About Lebedev -” Adam began but Dimitry was a man who liked to talk,  he raised his hand and smiled indulgently,

 

“I know.  After Pavel goes away I speak to soldiers and ask more questions and I find that Lebedev attacked you, after he had killed Irena.”  he frowned and inhaled deeply, “Irena Pestchouroff.  A beauty when a young girl.  Often she was in the court, many men have heart broken when she leave Russia.  So - I learn from soldier that Lebedev kill Irena, attack Americans, gets killed.   I tell Pavel, he say pah, so what, we go and sink American ship.”

 

There was silence in the cabin now.  Dimitry was a man who liked effect.  He was like the director of a play and knew how to build up the drama.  He puffed at his cigarette, pulled at his blanket and huddled closer to the small fire in the stove that Abbott had succeeded in getting alight.

 

“Did you know why Lebedev killed Irena?” Adam asked.

 

“No.  His orders would not permit him to share with us.” Dimitry neatly plucked a stray strand of tobacco from his tongue with his thin fingers, a delicate movement, then he smiled, “We - the other officers and I - understood why you brought down the ice.  It was a good strategic move.  You play chess, da?”

 

“Yes,  I do.”

 

“Hah,  that is what we say, this Capitan, he is a fox, he plays his move, now we get from this mess, turn round quick and go.   But Pavel, he is -” he drew a circle by his temple with his fingers, and shrugged, “The ice comes down,  the boat she rocks up and down,  we say, before it gets worse we go back, leave the American.  No,  he sees that you are having to slow down.  This then is his chance.  He wants to send you down to the bottom of the sea.  He was mad.”

 

Adam bit his bottom lip,  watched Dimitry’s face closely, was the man playing a game with him, or was this the truth.  He raised his eyebrows, put down the pen and picked up a letter opener instead, he tested the point upon his finger

 

“Had you been in command what would you have done?” he asked blandly.

 

“Well,” Dimitry stared into the struggling flames of the rather pitiful fire, “You were wise to put as much distance between us, you could never have outrun us, you know.  It would have been easy to blow you out of the water.   But my  orders were to let any American ships go unchallenged - is right word, da?   We see you, let you go, this is not Russian land no more.  So, I would  have taken Lebedev back to Russia, for him to be buried at home.   Pavel, no, Lebedev gets thrown into the sea like a common sailor.”

 

Adam bit his bottom lip, anticipated the man to spit into the fire but Dimitry restrained himself and puffed more furiously on his cigarette.

 

“No fighting.  Our country must co-exist.  Russia cannot afford fights with American States.  But Pavel - he wants to make a big name for himself.  He fires off the first round of guns.  We see the ice crack.  We tell him to stop, the gunner comes and says to stop.  No, he has to go on,  fool.   He sees you having to slow down,  you are like the fish soon to be caught in his net.  He orders more guns and ignores our warning.” he sighed, “If I had been the Capitan, and had met your ship I would have said … come over, have vodka, we have talk and good time.  Not Pavel - idiot!” he circled around his temple again and shook his head.

 

There was a knock on the door, Williamson stepped inside, looked first at Adam and then at Dimitry, and again at Adam.

 

“Just to mention that the Russian sailors are going to be alright.  Several cuts and bruises, frostbite, but nothing serious.”  he turned to Dimitry, “Sir, I’m the ship’s doctor, can I be of any assistance to you?”

 

Dimitry pursed his lips and looked at the empty cup, then at the doctor

 

“You have some good vodka, huh?”

 

“No, I’m sorry.  Some whiskey?  Bourbon?”

 

Adam smiled, there didn’t really seem much wrong with his guest.   His eyes twinkled, his head felt clearer, he felt shriven, absolved and his heart was buoyed up as a result.

 

From above decks came the sound of the bosun’s pipe to signal end of day.  ‘Pipe down’  were the words attributed to this custom,  when fires and pipes were extinguished, and the men would settle down in their hammocks to sleep.

 

From the cabin window Adam saw the moon  and the stars,  sounds from above were muted now as the men went to their quarters.  Williamson had taken Dimitry with him, closed the door behind them.   All was well.

 

 

Chapter 62

 

From the bedroom window Barbara saw the moon  and the stars,  sounds from the street below were muted now as the townsfolk went their way to wards the town hall.  She leaned forwards to the mirror and adjusted her ear rings, then stepped back, smoothed down her rose coloured skirts and sighed.   There was a light tap on the door and Peggy stepped into the room,  looked admiringly at Barbara’s slim figure and smiled,

 

“Oh you do look lovely,” she sighed, “That pink colour suits you so well.”

 

Barbara shrugged slightly, a feminine gesture that meant she was flattered but wasn’t going to deign to comment.   She turned to observe Peggy and nodded.  The young girl looked very pretty with her blonde hair piled on her head in contorted tortuous curls and ringlets, with some silk flowers threaded in amongst them.

 

“You look lovely, Peggy.” she moved towards her and straightened the tulle around the  girls’ shoulders, and nodded again,   “I should think there will not be a shortage of young men wanting to dance with you tonight.”

 

“Yes, but it’s such a shame Joe won’t be there.” she sighed and her mouth drooped a littled, “Poor Joe.  I remember when I was a little girl and he danced with me …” she laughed then, “Well, we didn’t dance, he just bounced me around the dance floor and twirled me around.  It was fun with everyone looking on and laughing.”

 

“Well, perhaps he’ll be better for the next dance.”  Barbara said quietly as she picked up her wrap and turned to look back at her reflection in the mirror.

 

‘I’m not doing anything wrong,” she told her reflection, “Just because Adam isn’t here doesn’t mean I can’t go and watch the dancing.   He wouldn’t want me to miss out, he knows I love the dancing and music.”  she pinched her cheeks to get more colour into them, and then nodded, “Let’s go, Peggy.  It never does to be too early or too late.”

 

“Oh, I know, Miss Scott.   We were always told at school to be punctual.”

 

They grabbed at each other’s hands and giggled like two errant school girls, and with their skirts rustling and swishing about them they hurried down the stairs and out into the street.

 

Barbara remembered the last dance she went to and how Adam Cartwright had taken her by the hand, led her into the Town Hall as though she were a Princess instead of the niece of the disgraced Major Scott.   She tried to recall the dark eyes and the way they looked down at her, the curve of his lips as he smiled and the way he had placed his other hand at the small of her back as they danced.   Peggy was walking at her new friends pace with her own face dreamy and with a smile on her lips.   She had fond memories of past dances too, when a child and watching her mother dancing with Adam, and how proud Adam had looked.  She could remember watching him and wishing he would one day look with the same pride at her, but - she sighed - it would never happen now.  No, not in a million years.   She remembered now, as they approached the Town Hall, all festooned with bunting and lights glowing in little glass bowls,  her last dance here, the time Joe had galloped around the hall with her, and how she had watched her mother dance that waltz with Will, her new husband, and Adam, standing beside Hoss, watching.  

 

She turned to look at Barbara who was walking along beside her with a smile on her face and her eyes lit up with anticipation.    She wondered, just briefly, if Barbara were really missing Adam, missing him with all her heart, grieving over his absence, pining for him and lonely for him.   It occurred to her, young as she was, that Barbara didn’t look like a woman who was pining for the man she loved.

 

‘Everyone’s different.’ she told herself, ‘Everyone acts in a way according to how they think is right.   Miss Scott is the school teacher here and she has to be present at these occasions because it’s kind of a sacred duty.” she nodded, enough of being judgemental and critical, tonight they were going to enjoy themselves.

 

How pretty everything looked this evening.  The moon hiding in the clouds and the stars so bright.   But the little candles glowing in their glass bowls and hanging on the trees around the town Hall made even the stars look dull this evening.  Music came from inside the hall, and they looked at one another and smiled, their hearts lightened, their feet anxious to go tapping and dancing across the floor.   Peggy even giggled as they went through the front door and reached for  Barbara’s hand.

 

Andrew Pearson was already there standing beside several other men by the buffet table.  He had a glass of some beverage in his hand which he was raising to his lips as they stepped through the doorway.   He paused in the act of being about to drink, lowered his hand and smiled at her.   To his mind she was just about the prettiest woman there, and he began to walk towards her.

 

 

Barbara saw him and smiled, by her side Peggy stood, her foot tapping in time to the music and her eyes looking around the room to see if there was anyone at all whom she would remember.   Another  girl of her age approached and introduced herself, saying she could remember when Laura Dayton used to go to her mothers to have her dresses made for her, and didn’t Peggy remember how they used to play and sometimes find themselves stepping on pins that had fallen on the carpet.

 

Giggling together the two girls strolled off towards a group of other young people, to whom Peggy was introduced by her friend, Gina .    Barbara was turning towards Andrew when a tall dark clad figure stepped between them.

 

“Miss Scott , Barbara?”

 

She jumped, for a moment it seemed as though Adam had walked in front of her and then she looked up into the blue eyes of Candy Canady, who was smiling at her,

 

“Well, which bonnet did you choose to buy?” Candy asked, “May I get you something to drink?  This punch isn’t to Ben’s recipe but it isn’t so bad.”

 

“That’s very kind of you, Mr Canady.” she smiled at him, and walked towards the table by his side.  

 

He took her elbow and steered her to the punch bowl so that he was walking between her and Andrew Pearson,  and as Andrew had walked away from the table and they were approaching the table, it placed Andrew in the awkward position of either turning around to walk back or to continue on and find someone else to talk to … for the moment at least.

 

He glanced over his shoulder at her and wondered if she were prepared to stay at the side of the cowboy all evening,  he was further dismayed when the tall broad figure of Hoss Cartwright appeared and approached the table, taking Barbara’s hand in his and giving it a very cavalier kiss over which Barbara laughed rather sweetly as she took the glass of punch from Candy.

 

The music stopped, people milled about to talk to one another.  Andrew Pearson, the newcomer, had few people to whom he could approach and speak to,  and stood rather a lonely figure in the place where he had stopped in order to turn and watch the tableau at the buffet.   Hoss, Candy and Barbara were in conversation,  there was laughter, Barbara tossed  her head and the curls gleamed in the light of the lamps.

 

Now the music began again, a stomping barn dance and Hoss took Barbara by the hand and whisked her into the line.  Peggy was taken by the hand by a young man who had introduced himself as  Mike.    They were clapping in time to the tune, and then Hoss and Barbara were twirling down the line, forming an arch for the other couples to pass under, everyone was laughing, clapping their hands.

 

“Good to see people enjoying themselves, isn’t it, Mr Pearson?”

 

Andrew turned, smiled and nodded.  Candy was watching with a smile on his face, his blue eyes following the lines of dancing couples as their pounded upon the floor and the music was almost drowned out by the cheers and laughter when Hoss took Barbara by the waist and tossed her so high that everyone could see her petticoats and white stockings.

 

“Yes, it is.”

 

“Being new in town doesn’t make it so easy, does it?”

 

“No, it doesn’t.”

 

“But you’re settling in alright?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

“You share water rights with the Ponderosa, don’t you?”  Candy smiled at him and Andrew nodded,

 

“Yes, I believe we do.   I shall have to check the maps to see exactly how and where.”

 

“Yes, Mr Cartwright did say to mention it to you, said you were always welcome at the Ponderosa to discuss it with him.  Well, I reckon you’d always be welcome there as a neighbour.  The Cartwrights are a good family to know around here.”

 

“So I’m beginning to find out.”  Andrew’s smile was a trifle tight.

 

“Well, I can only speak as I find, Mr Pearson.   They’ve been very good to me,  like family really.”

 

Andrew nodded.  He glanced over at Barbara who, breathless and flushed, looked prettier than ever.   It just happened that at that moment she glanced in their direction and their eyes met, again.

 

“Do you know that Miss Scott is practically engaged to Adam Cartwright?”  Candy said quietly, and raised the glass to his lips, sipped it, licked his lips.

 

“Almost engaged, Mr Canady.”  he looked directly into the blue eyes, and then back to where Barbara was dancing again with Hoss.   “He isn’t here though, is he?”

 

“He’ll come back, soon.”

 

“I hear it’s a hard life at sea, it’s possible that he won’t.”  Andrew shrugged, “Even if he does, it may not be for a very long time.”

 

There was a tone in his voice that Candy recognised.  This was a man who liked a challenge, and wasn’t prepared to back down when confronted with one, either.  He sighed, shrugged and looked at Andrew’s glass,

 

“How about another drink?” he suggested with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

The music had stopped now and Barbara was flushed and red cheeked, laughing with Hoss and Peggy and the young man called Mike.   Andrew Pearson accepted the glass from Candy and turned to watch them, by his side Candy caught Hoss’ eyes and shrugged, raised his eye brows,  and strolled away to speak to an old friend and his wife.   He glanced over his shoulder as Hoss walked slowly towards the table and then decided he had said enough,  at least Andrew Pearson had been warned.

 

The music restarted, a slow dance now, and Barbara found herself taken by the hand by the father of one of her students.  A pleasant man whose wife was laughing and clapping as she watched them from the side of the hall.  They talked about the children, about school work, and then the man had someone approach and tap him on the shoulder,

 

“Excuse me, would you mind -?” Andrew Pearson smiled at the teacher who smiled back, the other man faded away, rejoined his wife and Andrew took her hand in his and placed his hand in the small of her back as they stepped into the dance.

 

………………….

 

Gibbs,  who was now on his own shift, turned when he heard footsteps approaching him on the deck.  He nodded a greeting to Adam who came and stood by his side before walking to lean against the taffrail.  

 

“A pleasant evening, Captain”

 

“Yes, isn’t it?”  Adam replied as he looked over at the sky and the horizon that was distorted by the vast ice bergs that were floating on the smooth surface of the water.  There wasn’t a breeze in the air.   The cold hung in the air like small ice drops.  It was hard to believe it was spring and there was warmth elsewhere, and flowers blooming so colourfully.   He sighed and was about to turn back when Gibbs said to look ahead and his voice held a note of awe.

 

Adam turned, and watched as the pale yellow light on the horizon gradually spread out and then swirled skywards changing to palest green and then darkening and constantly moving.   The tendril like shapes seemed to dance and spring above their heads, widening out to encompass all the sky that they could see, blotting out the stars and the moon.   Adam and Gibbs stood together on the quarter deck to enjoy the beauty of it for a full twenty minutes before it slowly evaporated like mist.

 

Adam sighed, how beautiful and what a rare privilege it was to see these things.  How wonderful it would have been to have had Barbara here to see it too, and at the thought of  the young woman he had left behind he felt a wistfulness, a longing.   

 

He shivered, closed his mind to his thoughts and smiled at Gibbs.   Then he walked from the bow to the stern of the ship, greeting those men on watch with a murmured good evening, receiving a salute and nod in return.  He paused at the row of men awaiting burial, all now sewn into their canvas hammocks.  Tomorrow morning would  begin on a sombre note, he thought, and then with his hands clasped behind his back he returned to his own cabin.   They needed to be gone and away, he thought as he tried to sleep.  They needed to get home.

 

Chapter 63

 

The evening pulsated with music, dancing, clapping hands that were tingling after each dance, laughter and singing.  It was one of the merriest evenings Barbara had enjoyed for so long that she wanted it to last forever.  Peggy with her new friends felt a freedom that she had not experienced before, an acceptance that she was a young lady in her own right, whose opinions were shared with these new companions.

 

Yet she was concerned too,  there was a cloud blotting out her sun a little.  When Hoss came and took her on the dance floor she noticed how often he would look over at Barbara Scott and her dancing companion.  It made her observe the school teacher more than she would normally, and when she noticed the little frown on Candy’s brow when she danced with him,  and the way HE kept looking over at Barbara she became even more concerned.

 

Barbara however was totally unconcerned.   She shimmered with the intoxication of feeling happy and admired.  It had been a long time since someone other than Adam had shown her any interest and she WAS flattered by Andrew Pearson’s attentions.  He was a good looking man,  strong and tall, amusing, gentle.  She thought he was one of the most pleasant men she had ever met.

 

Hoss came and asked her to dance a slow dance with him and she smilingly accepted.  Her hand was slipped easily into his and she knew that he was light on his feet as many big men usually are, so anticipated a gentle dance around the floor with him.  He didn’t speak for some time,  but kept his face rigidly looking above her head at some point in the room.   Eventually he cleared his throat,

 

“Miss Barbara, is it alright with you if’n we slip outside for a moment.  I sure need to talk to you about something?”

 

A niggle of unease wormed its way into her conscience and with a tight smile up at him she allowed him to lead her out to the yard at the back of the hall.  Other couples were strolling about there, hand in hand, or with their arms linked,  but he led her to a bench seat, upon which she sat.

 

“Yes, what is it, Hoss?”

 

“It’s jest thet -” he cleared his throat again, “Shucks, who is that Andrew Pearson fella anyhow?  Where’d he come from?”

 

“Andrew Pearson?  But I thought you knew him?  He’s one of your neighbours, Hoss.”

 

“Sure, I knows thet, but how come he seems to be so mighty familiar with you?”

 

“What do you mean, Hoss?”   she was glad it was dark, she could feel the heat of her burning cheeks and was grateful that he wouldn’t have noticed.

 

“Wal, seems like he’s been dancing and follering you around all evening.  He ain’t left you alone for a minute.”

 

“Oh come now, Hoss, I’ve danced twice with you already, and with Mr Canady -”

 

“Yeah, and all we see is him standin thar at the table watchin us!”

 

“Hoss,  you have to remember that Mr Pearson is new here.  His little girl comes to the school.  I’m probably the only person he really knows well enough to feel able to dance and chat with,  that’s all.”

 

“I sure hate to harp on about it, Miss Barbara, but he sure don’t seem to have no respect for the fact that you’re engaged to my brother.”

 

“Hoss,” she rose to her feet and looked at him sternly, “At present I am not officially engaged to your brother.    Adam isn’t here just now,  and I’m not a nun.”

 

“There’s ain’t no reason for bringin religion into the matter, Miss Barbara, I know you ain’t no nun, and I know Adam ain’t here, but -”

 

“No but’s, Hoss.”  she could feel her voice wavering,  and the happy feeling she had enjoyed was slowly dissipating like bubbles in old champagne.   “Now, let’s go back inside and forget this conversation has ever taken place, shall we?”

 

Hoss blinked, he wasn’t sure whether or not his conversation had actually made any specific point but at least she had been told.  Without a word he led her back into the hall,  in time to take a last turn of the dance floor before leading her back to the table.

 

She sat down then, and accepted the glass of punch Hoss handed her, and sipped it slowly.   She looked at the other people there, the way they had all strolled off the dance floor, gathered in groups, were chatting together so familiarly.  Andrew Pearson was talking to  Dr Paul Martin,  Mrs Laurenson and Mr Sutherland.  She looked around to locate Peggy who was laughing and giggling with her friends, Mike and Gina and several others.   It seemed that she was stuck in a corner with her guard dogs.  Her evening was ruined.

 

“Barbara, come and meet Mike -” Peggy was there, pulling at her hand, and she got reluctantly to her feet and with a tight smile followed her to the group of youngsters who welcomed her so warmly that she was soon feeling happier,  and was laughing along with them.

 

Andrew Pearson passed them, caught her eye and smiled.  She smiled back and then continued with her chatting to  Peggy and her friends.   She could see him now walking to where he stood alone,  and her eyes drifted to the table where Hoss stood with  a stern look on his face, beside him was Candy but he was laughing and relaxed as he chatted to a young girl with whom he had just been dancing.  Hoss eventually turned to join in with the chatter.

 

It was the last dance of the evening.   Mike claimed Peggy and whirled her away, and Barbara stood there a moment wondering what to do.  She could see Andrew turning to wards her with the intention of  crossing the dance floor and claiming her hand for the last dance.  Hoss was dancing with Sally Jane, and Canady still engrossed in conversation with the other girl.  

 

“May I?”

 

Dr Martin stood before her, a gentle smile on his face and she smiled back, unable to resist his hand as he led her into the dance.

 

“Have you enjoyed this evening, Barbara?” he asked

 

“Oh yes, it’s good to leave the school room behind and just forget about the usual responsibilities of life.   Peggy’s had such fun too,  it has done her so much good.”

 

“She’s become a pretty young thing, hasn’t she?”

 

“I wasn’t here before -”

 

“I’m sorry, of course you weren’t,” he shook his head, “The curse of growing old, I’m afraid, time goes by so quickly, and people come and go,  they change and grow up.”  he smiled “Did Hoss tell you about Joe? No?  Well, I am surprised.  Seems Joe took it into his head to stand up and go walking.  Just like that …  impatient as always.” he laughed a little and shook his head.

 

“It won’t do him any harm will it?”  she looked genuinely concerned, “I mean, his not waiting for you to tell him when he could try walking.”

 

“Oh I doubt it.  Joe’s not stupid, he must have felt some power in his legs and back that made him feel he could use his legs again.   Adam was the same -” he paused, “Have you heard from Adam recently?”

 

“No one has,” she replied.

 

“It must make it difficult for you,  there was a rumour in town that you were going to get married but perhaps we were wrong.”

 

The music ended.  There was clapping and cheering.  The band was applauded and made their bows .     Slowly everyone began to drift away.   The magical evening of music and dance had ended.

 

……………………

 

They chattered and giggled all the way home, arm in arm, like two giddy girls.  Later they sat down and had some hot milk, and she listened as Peggy told her about handsome Mike and gorgeous  Jake.   How nice to be young, so uncomplicated and so free.  She was tired and her eyes were heavy.  She yawned and stretched,

 

“I think we should go to bed now, Peggy.”

 

“Oh  but I couldn’t possibly sleep now, my head is just going round and round …” Peggy laughed and then looked at Barbara with her head to one side, “Barbara,  may I ask you something?”

 

“Mmm,  go ahead?”  she murmured, combing her hair with her fingers so that the ringlets loosened into dark curls.

 

“People were talking about you this evening -”

 

“Were they?”

 

“They said what a nice couple you and Mr Pearson were, and -”

 

“And?”  she didn’t feel quite so sleepy now,  adrenalin shot through to waken her up.

 

“Just that they were surprised.”

 

“Oh really, Peggy, I was just having a nice evening.  Don’t say things that will spoil it all.” 

 

“You do love Adam, don’t you?” the young girls face screwed up a little, “I mean - it made me remember the time he was going to marry Mother, and how Will came along and everything changed for him.   I thought I was going to have a father who loved me, and I knew I could love him, as a father, I mean.”  she sighed, “I - I saw how you looked when you were dancing with Mr Pearson and -”

 

“Mr Pearson doesn’t know many people here yet, Peggy.” she stood up and pulled her wrap closely around her, “Don’t let’s spoil the evening by talking about this, please.  I’m going to bed now, make sure you turn down the lamps.”

 

Peggy nodded and watched the young woman mount the stairs.   Barbara walked with her chin up and her lips tight.  It was just too bad, she thought, people should mind their own business, and  now, for her, the evening was ruined.

 

She went into her room and closed the door.  On the bed was the pink dress she had worn and she picked it up to hang it in the closet.    As she held it close against her she looked at herself in the mirror and slowly drew closer to her reflection -

 

‘I looked really nice tonight,  I felt really special and happy.  Why shouldn’t I dance with Andrew?   Why should people make me feel guilty for dancing with a man, I danced with others there -” she turned and twisted, watching herself in the mirror and sighed, “Time’s passing by so fast, I’m not getting any younger.   What if Adam doesn’t come back,  how long do I have to wait to know that he’s never coming back if we don’t even know where he is.”  she turned away from the mirror and put the dress away, and walked slowly to her bed, “I don’t want to end up an old maid.  A spinster school marm like hundreds of others when I’ve a chance to be happy.”

 

She heard Peggy moving about downstairs and then the footsteps coming up to the bedroom opposite.   A light tap on the door and a whispered ‘Good night, Miss Scott.’       She couldn’t reply.  Her throat was too tight with tears.

 

 

 

Chapter 64

 

“Amen”

 

The chorus of voices echoed Adams at the conclusion of the prayer for those buried at sea.   The last of the bodies had slipped beneath the freezing sea and an ice floe had already floated over the water that had opened up to receive it.

 

The sky was a mixture of tints … blue, pink and gold.   Had an artist painted it no one would have thought it possible for such scenes to be real, with the colours bouncing off the ice and reflected back in the waters.   Some would say he had depicted a heaven on earth, but others that he had seen a glimpse of hell.

 

Adam closed the prayer book and stood for a moment in sombre respectful silence, then remembering that the men would not move until he had he turned to face them all.  His eyes scanned the assembly and he noticed how each man had made some attempt to smarten up for the occasion despite the fact that their clothing would still be damp and utterly uncomfortable, but a seaman’s life was a hard one, and this trip was certainly the proof of that fact.   He noticed O’Brien at the back, supported by an orderly, and close by the Russian contingent, all respectfully clutching their hats or crossing themselves in the  Orthodox Catholic manner.

 

“Thank you, men, dismissed.”

 

They turned, not a sound from them.  This was a sombre occasion, one that necessitated respect for those who had shared their lives for so long and were no longer part of it.   Adam watched them disperse and then approached O’Brien with a smile although his own eyes were heavy from lack of sleep;  they shook one another by the hand

 

“Are you well, O’Brien?”

 

“Yes, recovering well, sir.  It’s good to be up top instead of down in the sick bay.  They’ve pumped out the water but it still stinks like a bilge.”

 

“We shall be heading home as soon as we get the wind.”   he glanced up, “What do you think, O’Brien?  Is that -” he nodded towards the sky with its swirls of colour   “a good omen,?”

 

“I would like to think so, sir, but the saying is rather to the reverse,” O’Brien sighed

 

“That’s what I feared.”  he nodded to the orderly to indicate that he could go and then once the man was safely some distance away, he lowered his voice, “How do you find Williamson?”

 

“He’s a good caring doctor,  a compassionate man.” O’Brien replied honestly, “But - there is something that doesn’t quite add up about him.   Also I noticed that he went out of his way to speak to the Russian, Doestov,  last evening.”

 

“Really?  Well, perhaps to check him over for any injury?”

 

“He had already done that earlier,” O’Brien replied, and he lowered his head, “There was something more clandestine about it, Doestov looked uncomfortable and kept looking around as if he didn’t want to be seen talking to Williamson.”

 

“And it was the doctor who went out of his way to speak to the Russian?”

 

“Certainly.”

 

“There is still a guard watching him, isn’t there?”

 

“As you ordered, yes, but he just clutters things up in there and gets in the way.  We are a mite overcrowded,” he grimaced, “so he often loses  sight of the doctor for a while.  The Sergeant of Marines lost several men too -” he paused, “Adam, Captain, whatever was in those papers certainly must be more important than a few names.”

 

“I think so too,  but -” Adam paused as he saw O’Brien stiffen, straighten himself up and glance over his shoulder.   He turned, “Good morning, Doctor Williamson.  Have you come to see to your patient?”

 

“Mr O’Brien should be resting, yes, indeed.” Hugh Williamson nodded, “And  yourself, Adam, how are you?”

 

“I am well thank you, doctor, and I would be grateful if you would remember to whom you are speaking.  I do not recall permitting such familiarity between us.”

 

“I apologise,” Hugh cried immediately and his face looked stricken, as though he had not realised the enormity of his transgression, “It was purely as a doctor  to a patient that I was speaking, nothing more.”

 

“I understand that, but the situation is as it stands, sir, that you are under arrest -” Adam paused, and sighed, turned away with his hands clasped behind his back. 

 

O’Brien said the man was compassionate, and certainly he was a good caring doctor, but there was something about the man that bothered Adam even more than the fact that he was an admitted traitor.  Adam admonished himself, no, that was wrong, the doctor  had not admitted to being a traitor, only that he was acting in the best interests of his country, to prevent hardship and further suffering for the Southern states.   He shook his head as though wishing himself out of the whole mess and mounted the ladder to the prow of the ship.

 

A movement behind him and he turned to see the Russian approaching.  A dapper man, even in his crinkled slightly damp clothing the Russian conveyed an air of  a courtier, he held his cigarette between his fingers with a rather dandified grace.

 

“Capitan - I applaud you on this mornings service.   I thank you on behalf of my countrymen that you also included those from my ship who had died in this unfortunate melee!” he shrugged slightly, a roll of the shoulders merely, “ But, now, I request you, what are your intentions towards us?”

 

“Towards you?   How do you mean, sir?” Adam turned to face Dostov with a slight puzzlement on his face.

 

“We are not prisoners, are we?”

 

“Certainly not, sir, after all we were not at war - even though your Captain did fire at us.”

 

“True enough.” Doestov dismissed Pavel with another roll of the shoulders, “so  what are we to do?  We have no wish to sail with you all the way to America.  We are Russian - guests? - and would like to go home.”

 

Adam nodded, smiled and stepped to Doestov’s side, together they walked the deck,

 

“I shall certainly make sure that you get home, sir, shall we go to the cabin and plot a course that will take you to some neutral territory?”

 

Doestov frowned, then nodded,

 

“Better if you could take us back to Russia, however, if you choose to go to some neutral territory I am sure that we can find a ship to take us home.”

 

“You have to remember, Dimitry, that inadvertently or not, we did end up sinking your ship, and I don’t really think that your government would appreciate that - we may take you to your country, and find ourselves unable to leave it.” he smiled and took the mans elbow and led him to his cabin

 

“Ah, you are the fox as I said.  Quite right, the Kamchatka was the pride of our fleet, you would not have been received with popularity.”

 

“That’s what I thought -” Adam pushed open the door of his cabin and stepped inside.

 

The ship’s bell was striking time to change the watches.  The barrel man was mounting the rigging to the crows nest and the men were setting to with their work.  Adam pulled out his maps, set down his compass and sextant and then looked over at Doestov who was showing more attention to the books lined up on the shelf than to what Adam was preparing to do.   Adam frowned,

 

“Tell me, exactly what was your position on board the Kamchatka, Dimitry?”

 

“Who?  I?” Dimitry turned, his fingers brought his cigarette to his lips in a delicate motion, and he inhaled deeply, “I was second in command.”  his eyes fixed upon Adam’s like, so Adam felt, a rattlesnakes would fix upon his victim before striking.

 

Abbott pushed open the door and placed a tray of  hot coffee and biscuits on the desk, he glanced at the two men, and then faced Adam

 

“Cook says to tell you that everythings in order in the galley, sir.  He’s preparing your breakfast, shall I request he prepare it for two?”

 

Adam nodded, the door closed, and he concentrated on outlining a route for the Russians disembarkation.  

 

………………………………....

 

Barbara Scott had risen early.   It was Sunday and there was church to attend.  As she sat at her dressing table she opened the drawer where she kept her more personal belongings and took from it a small package.  She didn’t open it, she knew that there was the box with the ring in it, and Adam’s last letter to her.  She just held it in her hands for some moments while she looked at her face in the mirror.

 

She had wanted to do so much in her life, but her choices had been removed by her parents, even earlier opportunities to marry had been thwarted by her parent’s demands upon her sense of duty and her conscience.   Then there had been the situation with her Uncle.   Even that had led to her being forced to take on the responsibility of a man who was suddenly crippled emotionally,  unable to face the world.  She had cared for him and lived several years restricted by that care, by his demands upon her.   Then she had returned here and Adam had stepped into her life.  She clutched hold of the package and stared at the reflection that looked wide eyed and frightened back at her.

 

There was a knocking on the door and she quickly put the package back into the drawer, along with its memories, pulled her wrap around her and hurried down the stairs to open the door.   There was no-one there.  Puzzled she glanced up and down the street, but there was no sign of anyone.  Then she looked down and at the foot of the door was a posy of flowers.

 

“Who was it?” Peggy asked, trailing down the stairs with her hair in disarray and eyes heavy still with sleep.  She yawned and rubbed her eyes, “Anyone we know?”

 

Barbara didn’t answer, she was reading the message that had been tied with blue ribbon on the posy  “To the prettiest woman at the dance last night - from A.P.”

 

……………………..

 

Ben Cartwright listened to what Hoss was mumbling about over his breakfast, and frowned.  Twice he had had to tell Hoss not to speak with his mouth full, but Hoss didn’t seem to be in the mood to tolerate etiquette that morning.   Candy was eating his breakfast with a quiet air about him, nodding at times to what Hoss was saying, and looking serious.  Joe was chomping through his meal with an appetite that heralded good health,  his slow progress with walking ‘gave his appetite a kind of edge’ as he had informed them blithely earlier.

 

“Hoss, it isn’t any of our business -”

 

“But, shucks, Pa, it dang well is our business.”  Hoss protested, “How come she’s dancing with this fella Pearson so much when she’s engaged to Adam?”

 

“She isn’t engaged to Adam.” Joe interrupted and stretched out a hand to take another slice of bread, “There’s just an agreement between them.”

 

“Ain’t that the same thing?   She’s got a ring from him.”

 

“She ain’t wearing it though, is she?” Joe crooked an eyebrow and shrugged, “Adam didn’t ask her to marry him yet, did he?”

 

“Perhaps he should-a,” Hoss grumbled, a frown settling on his brow.

 

“Perhaps, but he thought it fairer not to do so,” Ben said gently, “He wanted her to be free enough to do what she wished while he was away, but with the knowledge that he was interested in marriage and they would discuss it when he returned. Hoss -” Ben raised a hand to halt the flow of words “that’s enough on the subject.”

 

“But, Pa -”

 

“Enough.  Adam will deal with it when he gets home.”

 

“Yeah, but, -”

 

“Hoss, eat your breakfast.”  Ben cast a look at Candy who had been remarkably quiet throughout the meal.   But then he would have considered this a purely family private affair, and decided to keep out of it.  Ben sighed and looked down at his food,  it was congealing on the plate and no longer appetising.  In fact, as he pushed the plate to one side, nothing seemed very appetising just then.

 

Chapter 65

 

“Miss Scott, Miss Scott”

 

Barbara and Peggy both turned at the sound of the child’s voice.  They were at the entrance to the church and John, the Pastor, had been about to shake their hands.  The child ran up to them with outstretched arms, her skirts dancing around her ankles as she jumped up and into Barbara’s arms

 

“Oh Lilith, what a lovely good morning surprise,” Barbara laughed, gave the child a hug, and set her back down to look up as Andrew Pearson appeared, bare headed, holding his hat in his hands.  “If I had a greeting like that every morning at school from every student I would never get lessons started in time.”

 

“Lilith can be a little exuberant at times,” Andrew said with a laugh in his voice, “She was so excited about all the things I told her about the dance last night.   She could barely get through eating her breakfast.”

 

“It was oatmeal -” Lilith sighed and looked up into Barbara’s face with a grimace, then she looked at Peggy, her face broke once again into a wide smile, “You’re Peggy, aren’t you?  Daddy told me all about you too.”  she extended her hand which Peggy shook gravely, “Daddy said you looked very pretty last night.”

 

“Thank you,” Peggy replied and looked at Andrew, “Thank you, Mr Pearson.”

 

“Credit where credit is due.” Andrew replied with a smile that made his eyes twinkle.

 

Peggy glanced at Barbara and was about to speak when she saw the Cartwrights walking towards them.  Excusing herself she hurried down towards them,

 

“Hello Mr Cartwright, Hoss - is it true about Joe?  Barbara told me last night that he had started to walk?”

 

“Yes, quite true, Peggy.” Ben smiled and resisted the temptation to pat her on the head,  it was hard to forget she was a grown lady now and not the little girl he had known,  then again, she also always gave him the impression of being an extremely boisterous puppy the way she bounced about the place.   “He’s doing very well.”  he glanced over at Barbara, and noticed that she was deep in conversation with a tall good looking young man whose little girl clung tightly to the school teacher’s hand, “We missed your visit yesterday.  Miss Scott and yourself usually visit on a Saturday.”

 

“Oh I know.  The thing is that Joe has so many visitors nowadays, and - and we were busy preparing for  the dance last night.”

 

“Of course.” Ben smiled at her and continued to walk on towards the church, Hoss was close behind and had removed his hat, greeted Peggy with a grin, and blushed a little when she slipped her arm through his and fell into step with him.  

 

Barbara turned with a smile as Ben drew nearer, she took a step forward,

 

“Hello, Ben, what good news about Joe.”

 

“Yes, we’re all very pleased about it.”  Ben replied with a warm smile although his eyes drifted to wards Andrew.

 

“Hoss, are you alright this morning?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Hoss mumbled, took a deep breath, nodded over to Andrew and walked into the building with Peggy still hanging onto his arm.

 

“Ben, may I introduce you to Mr Andrew Pearson and Lilith.  They are neighbours of yours now, having moved in quite recently.”

 

“Oh yes, I have been meaning to call by, Mr Pearson, to discuss about the water rights on your land.” Ben shook the other man’s hand warmly, looking into his face and liking what he saw,

 

“It’s good to meet you, sir.  I should have come to see you, but what with settling in and everything, there has just been too much to do.”  Andrew replied, “It’s a pleasure to meet you now though.”

 

“Yes, well, good.” Ben nodded,  looked at him again and then at Barbara who was bending down to speak to Lilith, “And who is this little lady here?”

 

“I’m Lilith May Pearson.” the child replied looking  up into Ben’s face and smiling prettily, “How do you do.”

 

“Very well, thank you. And how are you?”

 

“I’m alright, although I had to eat oatmeal for breakfast.”

 

Ben smiled and nodded, then stepped back to allow Barbara and the Pearsons to go ahead of him.   Perhaps he had expected Barbara to wait so that she could enter the church with him, as had happened in the past, had he done so, he was disappointed for she took Lilith by the hand and followed behind Andrew Pearson.   She did, however, take a seat by Peggy, shaking off the child’s hand to do so.

 

Ben sat down beside Hoss and didn’t look at his son.  He could almost hear what Hoss was thinking.  He glanced over at Barbara as they stood up to sing the first song, and realised that not only was Barbara craving a husband, but she had the natural need to become a mother as well.  There had, in fact, been something singularly poignant about the way she had held onto Lilith’s hand.

 

……………………….

 

Adam walked thoughtfully around the Ainola, his eyes noticing the damage that had been done by the explosion from the Kamchatka, and the upsurge of the sea.  The repairs to the damage was impressive, and he made a mental note to commend the carpenters.  Some damage could not be repaired however and he wondered whether or not this would prove a problem were they to encounter rough weather later.

 

He looked up at the mast that the carpenters had repaired and ran his hand down its smooth sides.  It was good enough for now, he thought, good enough.   With his hands clasped behind his back he paced the deck, noting the work that had been done so well and so swiftly since the previous day.  

 

“Mr Masters, assemble the men.”

 

“Yes, sir.” 

 

The bo’sun was given the order to pipe the men on board deck.   The men in the rigging and on the masts leaned forward to hear what the Captain had to say.  He waited until there was silence and he knew that all who could were assembled,

 

“Men, I want to commend you all for the hard work you have carried out since the events of yesterday.  The carpenters have worked wonders, and all of you, in your own way,  and with your own tasks, have worked efficiently and well.  I think you all deserve to split the main brace, lads (this was greeted with a cheer for it meant a tot of rum as a reward for good work) before we attempt to ghost our way out of here.”

 

Another cheer, the bo’sun piped for the men to return to their duties and Adam smiled over at Masters and Thomas and nodded, the signal to break open the rum barrels for the men to be served their extra ration.    He then mounted the steps to the helmsman.  

 

“No sign of any wind, Gibbs, so we shall have to ghost our way from here.”

 

Gibbs nodded,  and glanced warily up at the sky.  True enough there was no apparent wind, and to ghost, which meant to sail slowly  when there was no apparent wind, wasn’t easy.   He would need to make good use of the current which was strong thereabouts.

 

Masters came and smiled as he handed Gibbs his tot of rum, which the helmsman knocked back gratefully.  He winked at Adam, which could have been considered an impertinence by some officers, but was ignored on this occasion by the Captain.

 

“These are our co-ordinates, Gibbs.” Adam showed him the map with the route outlined carefully, “We need to be rid of our guests as soon as we can.”

 

“Aye, sir.  That I do agree with you.”  Gibbs nodded, and glanced over his shoulder as though wary of who may be loitering about to over hear them.

 

“Weigh anchor, Mr Thomas.”

 

“Aye, aye Captain.”

 

Adam clenched his hands as he leaned upon the taffrail.  He took in a deep breath and smiled, glanced up at the sky and exhaled slowly.  He could hear the great ship creaking as she began to roll,  they were moving at last.  The men gave a cheer, the circumstance of the burials earlier no longer heavy upon their minds.  They had weighed anchor and were heading for home.

 

 

Chapter 66

 

Dimitry Doestov  was quite happy with the way things had turned out.   He stood now on the quarterdeck observing the approach to Nushagak Bay which was one of the reaches of Bristol Bay.    He smoked his cigarette with a languid air, his eyes fixed on the location that he had agreed to be suitable with Captain Cartwright.

 

The left corner of his mouth twitched slightly into a semblance of a smile as he recalled the time they had spent debating on where he and his complement of men could be ‘deposited’.   It was agreed that a neutral territory would take time to navigate, perhaps taking them into the arctic circle and removing them too far from the Russian coastline.   So now, en route to home, they were heading for Bristol Bay,  where a ship to Russia was sure to be located.

 

He liked Adam Cartwright.   The man was uncomplicated because he was so honest, straightforward and uncompromising.  Dimitry liked all those qualities in a man.  He himself was devious, cunning and untrustworthy.   Sometimes a man with good qualities puzzled Dimitry.  He couldn’t understand how any man could have them and yet succeed in life.   He drew heavily on his cigarette once again and with a slight frown turned to face the man who now approached him and disturbed his meditations.

 

Hugh Williamson paused, then continued to approach the Russian.   The Marine who was his guard for that watch stepped back far enough not to overhear what was being said between them, a mark of civility only as he kept his eyes fixed on the doctor constantly.

 

“You have still your watchdog.”  Dimitry said with his affected roll of the shoulders, the dismissive shrug.

 

“Have you thought over what I mentioned to you the other day?”  Hugh replied, dismissing the insulting reminder of his current situation.

 

“I have thought about it, but -” again the shrug, “It does not interest me to go looking through your Captain’s papers for this - what you say? - important documents?”  he scowled slightly, “Why try to inveigle me into your intrigues, Doctor?  Aren’t you in trouble enough already?”

 

“It will benefit you,  that’s why.    It’s what Lebedev died for after all.”

 

“Lebedev was a fool then.” he tossed the remains of his cigarette into the sea.  “I think you should be very careful, Doctor, not to think that all Russians think like Lebedev.”

 

“You’re the fool then,” Hugh replied angrily, “Fool to think that there are not others like Lebedev.”

 

“If there are then they will be found out in time.”  Dimitry looked at Hugh with cold eyes, and then turned away.

 

In his cot by the porthole O’Brien listened to what was being said, the voices drifted down in a whisper but the words were clearly discernible.   He had pushed open the port hole to be rid of the smell that still lingered in the sick bay, the cold fresh air being a welcome refreshment.  He had known the Russian was  on the quarterdeck as soon as the smell of the cigarettes wafted down to him, then he had recognised Hugh’s voice.  He raised his head to hear more,

 

“The documents list all those names -” Hugh said, grabbing at the man’s arm.

 

“You know this for sure?”  Dimitry turned, looked curiously at Hugh, a frown on his face.

 

“Yes, I know for sure that their names would be there.”

 

“So, now, you would betray them?  These Russians who have the same opinion about things as you and Lebedev?”

 

“No - I mean - no, I wasn’t intending to -”

 

“But here you offer me their names, if I find the documents.  If I find the documents then what do I do with them?  Keep them?  Hand them to you?”   Dimitry laughed, a hard non humorous laugh, “Oh, Doctor, you must think more carefully of how you speak things.  You see - you do not know, do you?  Do we perhaps then, share these so precious documents?   I think not -”  he took out the silver cigarette box and opened it, slowly he extracted another cigarette with a slight frown,  his supply was running low,  that was irritating.

 

“Alright, I understand what you are saying.   But if those papers were to get into the wrong hands -”

 

“Capitan Cartwright would say your hands were the wrong ones, my friend.  You in wanting them so much imply that the papers are already in the wrong hands.  Pouf, you have yourself a problem.  For me, I have no problem except to return home in one piece.”

 

Hugh Williamsons face mottled, went white around the mouth, and he turned away abruptly to return to sick bay, followed by the Marine.   The Russian watched him go, a thin smile on his lips, and then he lit the cigarette.

 

O’Brien closed the port hole carefully.   He settled back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling above his head.   The bell sounded for a change of watch.  Feet sounded overhead for his ceiling consisted of the planks that formed the deck above his head.   Men were changing their shifts, there were footsteps on the ladder descending into the sick bay.  Hugh Williamson strode past, followed by the Marine.

 

……………………..

 

Adam was writing a letter.   It was a difficult letter to compose, but one he had considered writing for some time now.   Perhaps it would never be delivered, in which case it would not matter,  for its non-delivery would mean he had died.   He had his left elbow on the desk top and his head resting upon his hand, while with his right hand he carefully and slowly wrote down the words to his letter.

 

He stopped writing when there came a light tap on the door,  and after covering the letter with a sheet of paper glanced up as the door opened and O’Brien stepped into the cabin.  He rose to his feet immediately, a smile of welcome on his lips and concern in his eyes,

 

“Daniel, what are you doing here?   You’re -”

 

“I’m alright, Captain.  Thank you.” Daniel smiled, accepted the chair that Adam pushed towards him, “I am still rather weak, hadn’t thought it would take so long to cross a deck.”

 

“Here, take a glass of brandy, I know it’s early in the day but shall we say for medicinal purposes?”  Adam poured it out and handed it to his second in command, then sat down opposite it, “Something’s wrong?”

 

“Those papers.” Daniel paused, swallowed some brandy and then looked at Adam, “The Doctor was speaking to the Russian about them, I over heard them talking.”

 

“Dimitry?”  Adam raised his eyebrows, a lock of dark hair fell across his brow which he impatiently brushed aside,  “Is he interested in them now?”

 

“He said not,  he implied that Hugh was a fool but -”  Daniel pursed his lips and shrugged, “Sometimes a seed planted can grow strong roots.”

 

“He’d be curious about them, you mean?”

 

“Of course.   Hugh told him that there were Russians like Lebedev who are listed on the documents.  That would appeal to Doestov, wouldn’t it?”

 

“Yes, it would.”  Adam leaned back in his chair, “If he were really of the same mind as Lebedev and Hugh he could be fearful that his name was on the list.”

 

“If he were NOT of the same mind, he would be interested to find out who were the Russians in league with Lebedev and people like Hugh Williamson.  It would give him a lot more authority in Russia, if some of them were prominent people at Court there, he would have the perfect ammunition to get rid of them.”

 

“Yes, I’m afraid Dimitry isn’t what one would call an honourable man.” Adam sighed.

 

“Are they in a safe place?”

 

“So far they appear to be,” Adam replied slowly, he passed his hand over his face, down past his beard that Abbott had carefully trimmed for him that morning.   “Look, I have made an agreement to leave Doestov and his men at Nushagak Bay.   We should be there later this afternoon.    If he wants them then he will have little time in which to find them.”

 

“Adam, I don’t trust Hugh Williamson.  Even with his guard he seems to be able to go everywhere.  Can’t you put him in the brig?”

 

“I’d like to,  but he is still the ship’s doctor  and needed as such, Daniel.  He saved  your life, remember?”

 

“I remember that he was in a mighty big hurry to cut my arm off.   I could hear his voice through the pain,  and in my head was begging him not to.” Daniel spoke grimly, and then tossed back the remainder of the brandy, “That was good,  thank you.  I had better get back to my bed, no doubt I will have already been missed.”

 

“I’ll get Abbott to escort you back.”  Adam replied and went to the door and called for his steward who came promptly at the summons,  “Daniel, thank you for  coming to tell me.” 

 

They shook hands, and then Daniel turned, found himself having to lean upon Abbot’s arm, and left the cabin.

 

Adam paced the floor of his cabin for a few minutes.  It seemed to him that those documents had caused more problems since their inception than anything he could remember.   He went to the window and looked out to watch the waves.   Nushagak Bay was renowned as having some of the highest tides in the world, coupled with the extreme number of shoals, sandbars and shallows made navigation difficult.   He would have preferred to have found a safer more accommodating  area in which to dock ship, but in the end it had proven to be the most satisfactory.   He sighed, at least the area’s frequently strong winds were not present.  The waves were indicative of winds no stronger than force 2, no white horses foamed the wave tops here, at present. 

 

After some moments had elapsed Adam returned to his desk, and had just picked up his pen when there was a light tap on the door.   To his invitation to enter the door opened and Dimitry stepped inside.

 

“Capitan, it seems we are soon to part company.   We are sailing into the Bay.”

 

“I shall come on deck then,” Adam said regretfully, his mind more occupied with what he intended to write in his letter than anything else.  He gave himself a mental shrug and forced himself to deal with the matters on hand.   He reached for his jacket when he heard the familiar click of a safety catch being released and he froze instantly to the spot.

 

“Up with your hands, Capitan.” Dimitry said softly, almost with a sigh, “Just to make sure, you understand, that you are not going to make any silly sudden movements like taking a gun from your desk drawer.”  he cleared his throat, “Turn around, please.”

 

Adam did so,  his eyes looked at Dimitry and the rather thoughtful look on the man’s face puzzled him, he pursed his lips,

 

“Do I have to stay standing here like an idiot, Dimitry?”

 

“No, no, of course not, dear Capitan, of course not.   Just walk a little away from your desk. Very good.”  he sighed, “I am sorry about this you understand, but something happened that changed my intentions.”

 

“Your intentions?”  Adam shook his head, “What intentions?”

 

“To come here to your cabin and thank you for your help and hospitality, of course.  To leave here with amicable overtures between us.  However,” he sighed heavily again, “The good doctor mentioned some documents in your possession?” 

 

The question hung in the air, Adam just stared at him as though the man had lost his wits, and Dimitry stood there holding the gun with a look of  boredom on his face.  He gave his peculiar roll of the shoulders,

 

“Come, neither one of us is fooling the other.   Just tell me where they are.”

 

“Why would you be interested in them, Dimitry?   They have nothing to do with you.”

 

“So - you see - they do exist?”

 

Adam now shrugged his shoulders, placed a hand on his chest and the other on his hip.   Dimity glanced around the room,  then back to Adam’s face and looked into the dark amber eyes.  

 

“Look, I don’t want to shoot you -”

 

“It wouldn’t be much use to you to do so.” Adam admitted with a slight smile, although his eyes never left Dimitry’s face.

 

“If I had the papers, just to look at -”  Dimitry licked his lips, surprised to find that they were so dry, “Just to look at,” he repeated, “I need to see some names, that is all.”

 

“Well,  why didn’t you say so.”  Adam’s smile broadened, “Why not put the gun down first, and then I might consider it.”

 

Dimitry was about to speak when the door burst open to admit Abbott carrying one of his perpetual trays.  The edge of the door knocked into Dimitry, who, caught off balance staggered back.   His fingers contracted around the handle of the gun, the trigger was pulled and the gun was fired.

 

 

Chapter 67

 

The sound of a gun shot was, when a ship was at sea, a rarity so hearing it caused those who heard to pause, look at one another, raise eyebrows and shake their heads. But when it was followed by another  there came instant action as the men left their posts and grabbed at weapons always kept ready to hand on a vessel such as theirs, and crowded towards the Captains cabin.

 

O’Brien in the sick bay heard only the sound of many feet overhead and looked at the Doctor who paused in the act of lancing a boil on the back of one of the midshipmen.

 

“What’s going on?” O’Brien asked, struggling to get out of the cot once again, but finding his legs too shaky to permit him to do so.

 

“We’ll no doubt soon find out,” Hugh Williamson replied with a grim face, as he attempted to concentrate on the task at hand.

 

Timothy Masters and Philip Thomas were the first to reach the cabin where they found the door wide open, Abbott sprawled on the floor  and their Captain rolling on the floor with Dimitry.   The gun, still in the Russians hand, waved from side to side as Adam’s fingers tightened their grip around his wrist in an attempt to wrest the weapon from him.  His other hand  gripped Dimitry’s other hand as the Russian sought some hold on Adam to prevent him getting the advantage.

 

With a mighty heave Dimitry pushed Adam to one side so that the Captain was knocked onto the floor, now Dimitry pulled  his hand free and brought a clenched fist across Adam’s face, Adam brought his arm up and thrust  his elbow into the

Russians chest.  Still the gun wavered from one side to the other, and Adam reached out with his other hand to seize it, brought the Russians arm down, they rolled together, a chair toppled to the floor followed swiftly by a small side table.  At the door Masters and Thomas hovered, both waiting for their chance to seize the Russian  as the Captain exchanged blow for blow.  

 

Masters side stepped Abbott,  was about to lunge forward when there came another gun shot and then another.    The two bodies suddenly became still, the acrid smell of cordite spiralled upwards.

 

“Captain -?”  Masters cried and hurried forward to pull the Captain’s body away from the Russian.   He was closely followed by Thomas, and crowding the companionway the men stopped, frozen in dread of what they would see or soon hear.

 

“I’m alright,” Adam said very quietly as he pushed Dimitry’s arm away and slowly pulled himself away, “Get him to sick bay.”

 

He pulled the gun from Dimitry’s hand, tossed it to one side and then, still on his knees, he turned to Abbott.

 

“Is he -?” Thomas whispered looking down at the bloodstained shattered face and Adam pulled out his handkerchief and covered his steward’s face with what dignity he possibly  could in that overcrowded,  bloodstained room.

 

It was Sergeant Day who stepped into the cabin now, the scarlet jacket of his uniform bright in the sombre lighting of the room.   He had sent the gawping crew back to their stations, which order had been supported by the bo’sun who made good use of his knotted rope, the equivalent of a truncheon, to get the men moving.

 

“Alright, Captain, we’ll deal with Mr Abbott now, sir.” 

 

‘Duke’s’ deep voice penetrated Adam’s mind which seemed to be swimming in a morass of deep darkness.  He leaned upon Thomas’ arm and gained his feet, swayed a little, and then looked at ‘Duke’

 

“Is Doestov  still alive?”

 

“He’s in the sick bay, sir.”  ‘Duke’ gestured to two Marines to carry Abbott out of the cabin with as much decorum as they could, “You’re bleeding, sir, perhaps you should go to the sick bay also.”

 

“No - I’m alright.”  Adam shook his head, raised his hand to his face and gingerly felt with his fingers where it hurt most.   He attempted to smile, failed, “I must be out of practice, haven’t had a fight like that  for some time.”

 

“No, sir.” Thomas was looking at him pale faced, and then suddenly turned to pour out a glass of brandy which he handed to the Captain, “Here, sir, best drink this.”

 

Adam observed his bleeding knuckles with a grimace, wiped blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand, and then accepted the brandy which he drank slowly.  He watched mechanically as Thomas reset up the furniture.   ’Duke’ stood by the door talking in a quiet voice to one of his Marines,  while he watched what was happening with narrowed eyes.

 

“So what set off the foreign gentleman then, sir?” he asked.

 

Adam just looked at ’Duke’ with a cold stare and shrugged, set the glass down on the table and got to his feet.

 

“How far are we from the bay where we intended to leave the Russians?”

 

“We should, according to Mr Davies, reach there in less than two hours, sir.”

 

Adam nodded, looked at Thomas, then picked up his jacket, which he pulled on, buttoned up.   He straightened his back, flexed his shoulders, and left the cabin, followed by Duke, Philip Thomas and the Marine.   At the door Adam paused, and turned to the Marine

 

“Stay  here, don’t let anyone in unless I am with them.”

 

“Yes, sir.”  the Marine saluted, glanced at Duke who gave a quick nod.

 

Adam stepped out onto the quarterdeck and looked around at the men, all busy getting on with their business.  Someone gave a cheer but it faded away, the Captain didn’t look too proud of the business, although it did the men’s hearts good to see that their Captain wasn’t afraid to give and take a beating.

 

He stepped down the ladder into the sick bay where the first sight he saw was Abbott being carefully placed into a canvas bag which the sail maker would sew up later that day.  It wasn’t a pretty sight, so Adam averted his eyes and looked along the length of the room.   O’Brien was sitting up in his cot, his eyes wide and staring, as though he had awakened to a nightmare and was trying to make some sense of it.  When he saw Adam standing at the door  he relaxed, a smile drifted over his face, and he attempted to get to his feet and salute.

 

Adam gave his friend a quick nod of recognition and thanks before striding down to the back of the room where Williamson was examining Doestov who was moaning and groaning with a deal of writhing on the operating table.

 

“How is he?”

 

“A bullet in the groin, and one passed through the fleshy part of his arm.   He won’t die.”

 

“Good.  Patch him up as best you can.   Get him and yourself ready to leave ship.”

 

“What?  Leave ship?  What do you mean?”  Williamson stood up, bumped his head on one of the overhanging beams, his hands were red with the Russian’s blood “I can’t leave him in this condition.”

 

“You’re not going to have to.”  Adam replied coldly, “You’ll be going with him.  He’ll need a physician.”

 

“No,  you can’t do that -” Hugh cried and grabbed at Adam’s arm,  but even as Adam pulled his arm free one of the Marines had stepped forward to pull the Doctor away.

 

On board ship a Captain was the Master, the King of that small empire,  it was on a par to lese majeste to grab at his person in the manner Hugh had just done.   As Adam strode down the aisle to the door, Hugh almost ran after him,

 

“You can’t do this, you know.  It isn’t in the Ship’s Regulations -”

 

“I can and it is.  Good day.”

 

Hugh staggered back a few paces and then wheeled round on his heels, stared at the men most of whom were watching the proceedings with open mouths.  He shook his head and raised his hands as though in despair,

 

“He - he can’t do this - he can’t.” he whispered.

 

O’Brien sighed and returned to his position in his cot.  He put his cold fingers to his brow and felt his temples throbbing beneath them.   He closed his eyes.   Whatever had happened in the Captain’s cabin had certainly rebounded on Doestov and the Doctor.  In his heart of hearts Daniel O’Brien felt pity for the wretched man, until he remembered that were he to remain on the ship and reached home,  he would have been tried for treason, and duly hanged.

 

……………….

 

“Philip,” Adam turned to the young man, he had been washing the blood from his hands and face at a bowl of water, and now towelled himself dry, “who is the senior middie on board ship?”

 

“I think it’s young William Hucknell, Captain.”

 

“And is he efficient?”

 

“Very much so, sir.  He’s nearly 14, been part of the ship’s company for two years.”

 

“Mm, do you think he’d feel being my steward for the rest of the trip a bit of a come down?”  Adam surveyed himself in the mirror, and grimaced.  His bottom lip was swollen and cut, he had a ripe bruise beginning to darken on his left cheek bone,  and a graze on his brow.   He ruffled his hair slightly in an attempt to hide it,   “Tell him he takes up his new duties at 8 bells.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Satisfied with his ablutions Adam now turned, left his cabin and with Thomas behind him he made his way to the bridge.   Mr Davies turned to observe him, nodded, and looked straight ahead in order to hide a smile.  One didn’t often see a bruised and battered Captain on board the bridge.

 

“This is a good calm, Davies.”

 

“Indeed yes, sir.”   Davies nodded, his hands gripped the wheel, and he nodded over to the coastline of Nushagak Bay, “This isn’t so good though, sir.  There’s a mighty plenty number of hidden sandbanks out there.”

 

Adam passed a hand across his mouth and beard, pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as he observed the distance.

 

“How long would it take for a boat to row over to the bay?”

 

“In these conditions, sir?   An hour perhaps.”

 

Adam observed the sky.   It was obvious that he was agitated about something for he scratched the back of his neck and turned away from Davies to observe the coastline from the starboard side of the bridge.  Then it seemed he had come to a conclusion for he called out to the bo’sun to pipe the company on deck, and sent Philip to summon the Sergeant of Marines to the bridge.

 

As the men assembled the Marines formed lines and began to separate the Russians from the crew.  Although doubtful as to what was happening they did not seem unduly concerned, but looked up at Adam expectantly.  He turned to Thomas

 

“Tell them that they are going to be put into a boat, and must row to the bay.  There are ships there that will take them home.   Doestov and the Doctor will be accompanying them.”

 

Philip saluted, stepped down to the lower deck and proceeded to tell the men, in excellent Russian, what was going to happen.   Most of them looked pleased, there were nods of pleasure, some looked up at Adam and made gestures of thanks.

 

“Bo’sun,” Adam looked down at the company, “prepare a boat.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

‘Duke’ had gone to the sick bay and now proceeded to bring Hugh Williamson forward, Doestov followed on a stretcher.   He was conscious now and looked up at Adam whom he saluted with a wave of the hand and a smile.

 

“Lower away.” the bo’sun commanded the men after Doestov and the Doctor had stepped forward and Hugh had taken a seat.

 

The last sight Adam had of the Doctor was that of two baleful eyes staring at him until he had vanished from sight.

 

The Russians applied themselves to the oars, bent their backs with a will.   Adam walked to the side of the ship and observed them as the boat plunged up and down through the waves.   He watched them go and it seemed to him as though a dark deep voice said “You did the right thing, son.”   He could almost smell the tobacco on his fathers jacket and feel his hand heavy on his shoulder.

 

Even so there was a tightness to his throat.

 

 

 Chapter 68

 

 

Adam could see that the Russians would make good time in reaching land.   He watched until satisfied that they had circumnavigated around some of the worse of the shoals, then he nodded to Davies as though approving his being there at his side.  He started to descend to the lower deck when Philip approached him,

 

“Captain, what are your orders now, sir?”

 

Adam surveyed the sky, it was clear blue, there was barely a breath of wind.  He glanced at the ship’s sails, hanging limp like great white dusters.   It was late afternoon,  he would have preferred to have left the bay some leagues behind and sighed, they would have to ‘back and fill’ - that is to say, they would have to make use of the tide as the wind was not with them,

 

“Take her down the peninsula, Lieutenant.  Away from here.   Two leagues at least.”

 

“Yes, sir.”  Thomas saluted and Adam proceeded towards the sick bay, acknowledging the salutes and nods from the men as he went his way across the deck.

 

O’Brien opened his eyes as soon as he became aware of the Captain being at his side, he hurriedly rose to a sitting position and reached out his hand, which Adam shook warmly,

 

“How are you feeling, Daniel?”

 

“I’m getting much better, sir, thank you.”  O’Brien smiled and raised his eyebrows, “That must have been quite a fight.”

 

“Not enough room  in a cabin to swing a cat, let alone a frenzied Russian,” Adam grinned, and glanced to where the sail maker was sewing up the canvas bag in which Abbott’s body had been lain.  “Inadvertently, he saved my life.    Poor man.”

 

“He wouldn’t have wished it any other way.   He thought you were the sun and the moon to his world.  The way he would talk about you -”

 

“Hush now, I don’t want to hear it.” Adam said quietly, and raised a hand to stop O’Brien saying any more, “He had a wife and two children.”

 

“Yes.   He -” O’Brien paused and frowned, “A sea man’s life is not an easy one, Captain.   We serve as best we can and if our lives must be taken in pursuit of that service, so be it.  We know what we have to do -”

 

“Yes.” Adam clamped his mouth shut and lowered his eyes, “When do you think you can resume as my second in command?”

 

“Ask - you know I am available to serve you.”

 

“No,  I want you to be well enough to take - to take on your duties.”

 

“Jamieson will tell you,” O’Brien smiled, “He’s been taking care of me, saved my arm, you know?” he sighed and leaned forward to beckon to one of the orderlies who were talking in low voices at the back of the cabin.

 

Jamieson proved to be a familiar face to Adam,  one of the orderlies constantly in attendance with Hugh.  He acknowledged Adam correctly and listened to what O’Brien had to say with a slight frown on his face.  He looked then at Adam,

 

“Mr O’Brien is being overly optimistic, Captain, in thinking he would be ready by the morning.  But being as there is now no longer a ships’ doctor, am I to understand that as senior orderly I now have that position?”

 

“Until another doctor can be found, yes, thank you.”  Adam nodded.

 

“In that case it is my medical opinion that Mr O’Brien should take at least another 24 hours rest before resuming light duties.”

 

“Very good, Mr Jamieson.” Adam turned to O’Brien, “Do you feel well enough to accompany me to my cabin purely on the grounds of keeping me company, Mr O’Brien?”

 

“My pleasure, Captain.” O’Brien laughed, “If my doctor says I may -” and he gave his charming smile to Jamieson who laughed, shook his head, and nodded,

 

“Just an hour, mind.”

 

Adam provided his arm for the Officer to lean upon and once upon his feet O’Brien nodded,  and pulled his jacket upon his shoulders.   They paused for a moment in respectful homage to Abbott as they passed his body.    Then they made their way across the deck.   The ship was making her way from the bay, Adam cast one last look towards where Williamson’ boatload of men was but a dark dot on the horizon.

 

Masters saluted and informed the Captain that the ship was making good headway, the tide was working with them.   Adam acknowledged the information and led the way down to his cabin.

 

“Close the door, O’Brien.  There’s no one thereabouts, is there?”  Adam’s voice was deep, urgent, and O’Brien, with a twinge of anxiety, confirmed that there was no one in the companionway.   “Now,  I need your help”  he pulled off his jacket, and began to unbutton his shirt which he pulled off and threw to one side, “Help me take off these bandages.”

 

“Are you hurt?  Do you -”  but Adam’s finger to his lips halted any more words and he carefully began to unfurl the bandages, as he did so a slip of paper bound in with them slipped into his hands, “Oh, I see -” he breathed, “And do you still think there could be anyone on board who would try to take these from you?” 

 

“I don’t know.  That’s the problem, Daniel, I just don’t know.  The wretched things -” he took the pages from Daniel and looked at them.  The last was blood  stained slightly,  he rubbed his brow, “I think a glass of something, Daniel, would do us both good.”  and he sat down slowly,  “after which I would like Jamieson to come and put some clean dressings on for I think I have re-opened the wound in that fight.”

 

Daniel nodded, he had replaced the previous wadding upon the seeping wound, and could tell from his friends’ face that he was, indeed, suffering.  Adam carefully put the pages in order, then gave them to Daniel,

 

“Keep them safe, Daniel.  You have carried them with you before - remember?”

 

“Yes, I remember.”  Daniel leaned forward towards Adam, saw the perspiration dewing the other man’s brow,  “You are unwell, I’ll get Jamieson now.”

 

“Hide the papers -”  Adam whispered, “Hide them -”

 

………………………..

 

Sport turned his head towards his master and Adam felt the coarse hair of the horse’s mane beneath his fingers.  He leapt into the saddle and kicked into the horse’s flanks.  The horse, always obedient to his master’s commands, leapt forward and then they were galloping across the field towards the vast thickness of the Ponderosa pines ahead.   The wind brushed against his face, warm and dry, but refreshingly so, he could feel the muscles of the animal working like some wonderful machine, as the legs stretched out and ate up the miles. 

 

Ben turned to face him, riding on Buck, and with his tanned skin creased into a smile,

 

“Took your time, son.”  he chuckled.   “Thought you’d never get here.”

 

“I got delayed.  Had to write a letter.”  he said and pushed back his hat (funny, someone grabbed his wrist,  he had to pull himself free but it was grabbed again, strong fingers holding him and someone calling his name).

 

“Hoss was thinking you’d miss dinner.”

 

“Hop Sing’s roast pork?”

 

“Only the best.  Amazing what he can rustle up in a chuck wagon.” Ben chuckled.

 

“Is Joe with you?”

 

“I’m right behind you, brother.” Joe’s voice came from behind him, there was laugher in his words, “You sure are a slug-a-bed, Adam, any longer and I’d be eating your dinner for you”

 

“I’m sure you would, but I had to write a letter.”  (something cold on his face, he pushed it away, and someone was talking in whispers close to him)  “What did you say, Joe?”

 

“Roast pork with all the trimmings, just how I like it.” Hoss was smacking his lips and grinning .

 

They were standing by the chuck wagon now,  and Adam wondered why he couldn’t remember dismounting from Sport, how had he got there, he was putting something in his mouth, looking forward to roast pork but it was cold, just water.  

 

Jamieson and O’Brien sat beside the bed of their Captain.   They listened to the feverish ramblings, held him down when he threshed wildly upon the bed, struggled to kick off the covers, dashed aside the water they tried to get him to drink.  

 

On deck the men never ceased working.  The Officers whispered orders and the orders were relayed from mouth to mouth.  Everything was quiet.   Everyone was silent.   The ships sails began to fill as a freshening wind blew in from the south and they left the bay well behind, and sailed along the peninsula towards the Aleutian Islands.

 

 

 

Chapter 69

 

A tentative knock on the cabin door roused O’Brien from sleep.  Jamieson, alert as ever, was already opening the door to the youth who stepped into the cabin balancing a tray of food and drink.  William glanced around to find the table upon which to set down the tray.  His lips quivered as he asked them, in a whisper, how the Captain fared.

 

“He’s holding his own.” Jamieson said rather ambiguously.

 

“Tell him  - well - we’re all praying for him to get better soon.”

 

“As soon as we can, we’ll tell him,” Jamieson whispered, trying to push the boy back out through the door.

 

“Cook made all his favourite things for breakfast.”

 

“Thank you, William.”

 

The door closed, Jamieson shook his head, touched by the sentiments expressed by the Middie, and then approached the tray.   He looked over at O’Brien,

 

“Coffee, Mr O’Brien, I think you’re going to need it.”

 

“Thanks, yes - of course,” O’Brien rubbed his eyes, “Did I fall asleep?”

 

“You have to remember you’ve been unwell yourself, sir.” Jamieson passed over the cup of coffee, “There’s plenty of food here, should you be hungry, sir.”

 

“Yes, thank you.”  O’Brien rubbed his face in an effort to get himself feeling more alert, he leaned towards the bed where the sick man drifted in and out of his feverish dreams, “Is he any better, do you think?”

 

“It’s going to take time.   I should think he’s been in a lot of discomfort and pain for a long time, been living on his reserves …”  Jamieson nibbled at some bacon, crisp and still hot.

 

……………….

 

“I’m sorry, Adam -”  Laura’s pretty face was sad, the blue eyes welled up with tears, “If you could just forgive me.”

 

He smiled, took hold of her hand, assured her that he forgave her.  Isn’t the heart treacherous?   Didn’t the good Book tell us so?   She leaned forward to kiss him (something cold and wet slicked over his face, he pushed it away, groaned and tried to recapture her face only for it to be replaced by Joe -)

 

“Letter - Joe, get the letter -”

 

“Yeah, sure.”  Joe flourished a letter between his fingers and when he looked again it was a fish, the scales silver and shining in the sun “Isn’t it just a beaut, our supper for tonight, Adam.”

 

“You must have been fishing all day.”

 

“Mostly - when I managed to get away from Pa and Hoss.”  Joe laughed and he wasn’t Joe anymore, he was a little boy with blond curly hair and blue eyes and myriads of freckles.

 

Adam heaved a sigh, if only the pain would just leave him.  Why were his legs so heavy, he couldn’t lift them.    He forced open his eyes and everything was dark, a face leaned down towards him,

 

“Adam?”  O’Brien whispered, “Can you hear me?”

 

“O’Brien?  What are you doing here?” he whispered through dry cracked lips.

 

“Look, have some water, Adam, you’ve got to drink something.”

 

Jamieson passed an arm behind Adam’s pillows and helped raise him up so that he could drink the water with the medication in it.  Adam grimaced and shook his  head, pushed the hand away,

 

“No -” he whispered and his eyes closed, his lips moved in silent communication but with whom neither man there knew.

 

There was another knock, soft, before it was pushed open and Richard Friend peered in,

 

“Orders for the day, Mr O’Brien?”

 

“Continue on course for Sand Cove, it’s -” O’Brien struggled to his feet and moved to the desk.  

 

There were maps there, and the beginning of a letter, his fingers trailed past it but his eyes caught the “Dearest Barbara …”.  He cleared his throat, covered the letter with the map and traced the route.   Richard nodded, turned and observed the man on the bed.  His face fell, he glanced at  Jamieson, then O’Brien, his eyes moist

 

“It’s not fair -” he whispered.

 

No one said anything, he left the cabin and closed the door silently behind him.  O’Brien returned to his seat by the bedside, and wondered who Barbara was, and then he began to think of his own dear wife, dearest Maria.

 

………………………..

 

The children sat in their seats with their eyes fixed on their teacher.   Jackie Ashe answered very nicely about how to punctuate a sentence and Lilith watched Miss Scott with large eyes.   Miss Scott, she decided, was just about the prettiest, nicest teacher she knew.   She felt a warm glow in her tummy, she had a little present in her lunch box to give to the teacher, and could hardly wait for the lunch break so that she could give it to  her.

 

…………………………

 

Joe Cartwright walked carefully from the settee to the table.   Then after he had leaned upon the back of a chair for a moment he turned, faltered, began to make the journey back. 

 

“Oh, Joe, that was magnifique.” Peggy laughed, and clapped her hands, “I am SO glad you are getting better now.  You seemed so different when you were ill.”

 

“I felt different, nothings worse than being stuck in a bed and knowing you’re so dependent on other folks to fetch and carry for ya.”

 

He flopped into the chair and grinned. 

 

“Joe,  I wish you had been to the dance on Saturday night.  I sure missed you.”

 

“Wal,  I wish I hadn’t missed it, I heard from Hoss that you and Miss Scott were the life and soul of the party.” he laughed, and reached out for an apple.

 

“Oh no, we weren’t, not at all.” she shook her head and her blonde curls shimmered about her shoulders.  Joe thought suddenly how like Laura she actually was at times, and sighed,  “Miss Scott did look lovely though, Joe.  You should have seen her, she was -” she paused as she struggled to think of the correct word, “She was kind of all lit up from inside.  Does that sound odd?   I just meant that she looked so happy and lovely that she shone.”

 

“Yeah, I kinda heard that she - she looked kinda special.” Joe frowned and took a big bite out of the apple.

 

“Joe, I’m really worried about Miss Scott, Barbara I mean -”

 

“How’d you mean?”

 

“I think she’s -” she shook her head, “No, it’s alright, I don’t want to say it.”

 

“Say what?  For Pete’s sake, Peggy,  it’s not anything that would cause your tongue to rot, is it?”

 

“No, no, it isn’t.”  Peggy sighed, “It’s just that it’s only what I think, and I’m afraid that if I say it out loud, it may come true.”  she sat there for a minute looking pensive and then shook her head,  “It doesn’t matter, Joe, it’s nothing to do with me anyway.  I’ve not come here to gossip, I came to see you -”

 

Joe nodded,  smiled, he didn’t like to say what he thought either,  it might just happen to be the same thoughts as hers, and the thought made him feel slightly nauseous.

 

Lunch time, Lilith followed the other children as far as the doorway and then stopped.   She turned and looked up at Miss Scott. 

 

“Oh Miss Scott, I’ve got a present for you.” she whispered, stepping even closer to the teacher as she spoke.

 

Barbara smiled, she wondered what Lilith would have brought for her … an apple, a wild flower?   It was the thought that counted and so she leaned down  to look into the little girl’s face

 

“That’s kind of you, Lilith, I wonder what it is?”

 

“Shall I give it to you now, Miss Scott?”

 

“Why, thank you.” 

 

Lilith opened her lunch box and rummaged around until her fingers clasped a small red box.  She brought it up and handed it to Barbara,

 

“It’s for being a special lady.”  she said in her squeaky voice.

 

“Oh, that’s so kind of you, dear.”  Barbara replied although she was slightly puzzled by  her gift.   She frowned, “Shall I open it now or later?”

 

“Oh now, now” Lilith jumped up and down with excitement.

 

She opened it.  A diamond ring twinkled up at her.  Small.  Not very expensive,  a poor man’s extravagance for someone he had loved.   She stared at it, and then at the child.

 

“Lilith, where did you get this?”

 

“From a box.   It used to be mummy’s.   Daddy said he bought it because she was a special lady.  But you’re a special lady too, arn’t you?  Daddy said how he danced with you and how pretty you were.” she frowned, pouted, “You do like it, don’t you?”

 

Barbara smiled, stroked the girl’s head and nodded.  “It’s very lovely, thank you.”

 

All was right in Lilith’s world.  She gave Barbara a wide smile and her eyes sparkled a she ran out into the playground.  Barbara closed the lid of the box with a little snap.  She would have preferred an apple, or a wild flower.

 

 

 

Chapter 70

 

Jamieson washed the trembling hands with a warm cloth and then wiped around Adam’s neck where the perspiration had gathered at his throat.   He looked anxiously at the Captain’s face, the dry cracked lips, the fever ridden fluttering of the eyelids.  Oh God, he prayed, please help us, I’m not a Doctor, I can’t be responsible for what happens to this man.

 

“Pa?”  the word slipped through Adam’s lips like a soft exhalation, barely discernible. 

 

O’Brien leaned forward, looked at Jamieson, 

 

“What’s happening?   Can’t you get him better?”

 

“I’m not a Doctor,  sir -” Jamieson protested, “I’ve given him all the medication I can think of, it’s just that -”  he spread out his hands in a gesture of futility, “there’s no infection in the wound.  He has clean dressings on.  He has a brain fever, and in that case, all we can do is pray.”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Jamieson, it wasn’t fair that I should expect more from you than you are qualified to give.”

 

Jamieson nodded, rinsed out the cloth and wiped around the Captain’s face.  Adam slowly opened his eyes,

 

“Where’s Doctor Martin?” he asked quite clearly with a puzzled look upon his face.

 

“Doctor Martin?  There’s no Doctor Martin here, sir.”

 

“Then who’s going to look after Joe?  God help me, I didn’t see the wolf there.” Adam groaned aloud, his eyes rolled and he fell back against the pillows.

 

His dark hair, curling from he dampness of his fever, was a dark contrast to the colour of his skin, and dark curls of it were stranded across the pillow.  Perspiration beaded his brow and his hair was wet upon it, he flung out an arm, pushed away the covers, 

 

“Inger,  look at Hoss.  See?  Look at him, your son -” 

 

Jamieson stood up and away from the bed.  He looked with scared eyes at O’Brien, and shook his head.

 

“I don’t know what to do, sir.  I just don’t know -”

 

……………………………….

 

The anchor was sent down as slowly and quietly as possible.   News of the Captain’s condition drifted around the crew, whispered from mouth to mouth from those who had access to the cabin, the Officers and the young Middie, William Hucknell.  

 

They had reached the tip of the peninsula that formed the Bristol Bay and evening was approaching.   Each man turned as the sound of O’Brien’s footsteps approached and he stepped onto the quarter deck.   The Bo’sun was summoned, and told to pipe the men on deck for a funeral.  Mr Jeffrey Abbott was to be laid to rest.

 

The men gathered, pulling off their caps, heads bowed they shuffled into position.  The sail maker and the carpenter appeared with the body, which was placed on the plank overhanging the ship’s sides, the flag was placed over it.

 

O’Brien gave a short speech in  a voice that wavered rather, he offered up a prayer and then the body was tipped into the sea.   It was over and the men stood a moment in respect for their dead companion before returning to their tasks.  

 

“Orders, sir?” Masters asked, saluting O’Brien respectfully.

 

“The breeze is freshening, reef up the sails.”

 

“Aye, sir.”  Timothy paused, “How - how is he, sir?”

 

O’Brien struggled to find the right words, shook his head, shrugged and returned to the cabin.

 

As quietly as they could the men mounted the rigging lines and began to reef the sails.   The wind was indeed freshening as was common in those parts, it made the ship roll, and the bo’sun gave orders for the aft anchor to be lowered.   Then he piped the men down for the night - and softly, quietly they hurried to their quarters.

 

……………….

 

The Pearson’s little ranch house shone white in the sun light as Barbara slowed the horse to a halt, and after a momentary pause, stepped down from the buggy.

 

She had not been too sure what she should do about Lilith’s gift.  After some consideration the only solution was to ride out and speak to Andrew Pearson personally and hope that Lilith would not be taken to task too severely for  her choice of gift.

 

The door opened before she had reached it, and she faltered, mustered a smile and continued onwards.   Lilith stood there, her face wreathed in wide smiles and her eyes sparkling.  Behind her stood Andrew Pearson,  a look of puzzled confusion on his face,

 

“Miss Scott - I mean - Barbara - what reason do we have for the pleasure of this visit?  Please, do come in.”  he opened the door wide and stepped aside to admit her.

 

It was a humble home.  Very clean, very neat.  The furniture was basic,  and some obviously made by his own hand.  She stood in the centre of the room,  a rug at her feet colourful and gaily patterned.  Some of the ornaments indicated a woman’s hand, obviously those his wife had brought to their home on their marriage.  She turned to him and smiled,

 

“You don’t mind my coming, do you?  I would have spoken to you at school but you didn’t come for Lilith today.”

 

“I’ve been busy here.” he wiped a hand down the back of his pants, “I arranged for  the Hungerfords to bring Lilith home with their kids.   Is anything wrong?”  he paused, looked at Lilith, and then at Barbara, “I’m sorry, please sit down, can I get you something to drink?”

 

“Have you some water?”

 

A stupid question, the most basic home had water and it made him smile.  

 

“I think we can manage that, don’t you, Lilith?” and she ran off ,  placing her doll in the chair.  

 

“Mr Pearson -”

 

“Andrew -”

 

“Andrew -”  she drew in a deep breath, “Lilith brought me a gift today.”

 

“Did she?” he smiled and drew the child into the circle of his arm once she had handed their guest a glass of water.

 

“Lilith, dear, why don’t you take your dolly out into the yard while I talk to  your daddy.” 

 

She smiled to soften her words and Lilith smiled,  collected her doll and ran out of the house.   Barbara noticed the way Andrew watched his child leave the house, the look of love and pride that she had seen in so many parents’ eyes.

 

“You said she had brought you a gift -?” he turned his eyes to her  “Well, I’m not surprised, she’s very fond of you.”

 

“Yes, but -” she brought out the box and handed it to him, “I don’t think you would have wanted to part with this -”

 

She watched him as he opened the box,  saw his face change, the blush of embarrassment, the pensive look as memories flooded back of his special lady.   He then raised his eyes to her face, shook his head,

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise -”

 

“That’s alright.  Please don’t scold Lilith.  She acted with the best of intentions and children of that age don’t understand about the value of - of such things.”  she had risen to her feet now and stood just a few inches from him.  He could smell her hair and the fresh smell of the perfume she wore, with an effort he turned away and put the little box into his pocket.

 

“Yes, of course.” he nodded and smiled at her, “As I said yesterday, she’s an impetuous child.  Takes after her Ma in that respect.”

 

Barbara lowered her head and put the glass down on the table.   She cleared her throat, and began to walk to the door,

 

“Thank you for being so understanding, Andrew.  Thank you for the water.”

 

“I hope you come to visit again - soon.” he said, matching his step to hers as they walked out of the house together.

 

“Yes, of course.” she nodded, and looked over at Lilith who was picking daisies.

 

“I’ve been hearing a lot in town  and hereabouts about Adam Cartwright.  Folk think very highly of him.  He’s sounds like a mighty fine man.”

 

“Yes, he is -” she nodded and looked away from him, away to where the clouds were gathering in the blue, blue sky.

 

“And very brave, they say.  Heard he’d been given a medal when he was at sea a few years back.”

 

“Yes, he did.” she smiled slowly, “Adam’s - well - he’s a very unique person really.”

 

“Oh, yes, I had rather got that impression.   When someone’s unique, that means there’s little chance of anyone else measuring up to them.”

 

She said nothing to that remark, but sighed and turned her head to observe Lilith who was singing a song in her shrill little girl’s voice.  

 

“Thank you, Andrew.  Good bye,” she extended her hand and he took it gently in his own,  hardly dared to squeeze it between his rough dry paws, smiled at her and stepped back.

 

As she walked back to the buggy he paused in his walk back to the house and hurried after her, caught at her elbow

 

“The weather promises to hold good, Barbara -”

 

“Yes, I think it does.”

 

“Would - would you like to go on a picnic on Saturday afternoon?   Lilith loves picnics.”

 

“Oh -” she bit her bottom lip,  cast her eyes down to the ground and then smiled,  “Well, there’s nothing I like more than a picnic.   I shall bake a cake.”

 

He smiled, his eyes shone, he released her elbow and watched as she walked to her buggy.   When Lilith ran up to him to wave her teacher good bye he swung her up in the air with the sheer delight of  having Saturday to look forward to now.

 

……………..

 

The light from the moon curved a beam into the cabin and played across the desk, made the silver ink well sparkle.   Only the sound of a man struggling to breathe broke the silence within the room.   They had raised the pillows to ease the air flow into his lungs but still he struggled, his breathing was ragged and harsh.   He no longer whispered words in feverish delirium, what dreams disturbed him now were far more remote for any there to share.   The effort to breathe was all consuming now,  only the flutter of his eyelids and the convulsive movements of his limbs indicated the struggle he was putting up to survive.

 

O’Brien had fallen asleep.  Still weak from  his own injuries, still emotionally drained from  the vigil at his friend’s bedside,  he was exhausted and while he had fought off sleep for as long as he could it had finally claimed him.  He sat at the desk, his arms folded upon the wooden surface and his head rested upon them.  The light from the moon  bathed his features in its softening light as it must have done  upon so many handsome young men.

 

Jamieson paced the floor.  He had sent for a medical book, scoured through it, mentally ticked off all the procedures he had followed.  He had done everything he could, everything.   He looked at the man in the bed, at the tangle of hair, the dark beard dewed by perspiration, the sheets soaked with sweat.  He shook his head, turned his feet and paced back towards the door - somewhere there had to be something he had overlooked, something that he could do.  

 

Chapter 71

 

“Mr O’Brien, Mr O’Brien -”

 

Daniel forced his eyes open and shivered.  He hadn’t realised how cold he felt and then he realised that the reason why was because the fire had been put out and the window opened.  The cold air swept through the cabin with a bite adequate enough to chill any man’s blood.

 

“What’s going on, Jamieson?”

 

“I need your help, sir.”

 

“Certainly, but - but it’s freezing in here.” and he moved as though to close the window.

 

“No, sir, not that - it has to stay open.” Jamieson put his hand out to stop O’Brien whose hand faltered and fell back to his side, “I remembered when I was in Italy once and what the doctor did for someone in the Captain’s condition.  I should have remembered before now but, fool that I am, I was scared of doing something wrong.”

 

O’Brien stared at the man anxiously, then realising that Jamieson was more or less saying he was clutching at straws he hurried to Adam’s bedside and then stepped back in amazement.

 

“Landsakes, man, what have  you done?”

 

“Well, you see, what we had been doing was making it warmer in here, good for us perhaps, but actually we were building the fever - the body temperature I mean - higher as well.  The Captain was getting worse and worse no matter what we were trying.   Then I remembered about what happened in Italy -”

 

“Drat what happened in Italy, Jamieson, you - you could be killing him.” and he turned as though to return to the window, once again he was blocked by Jamieson

 

“No, you don’t understand.  To bring a fever down like this his body needs to be as cold as possible.  I’ve got some men bringing ice up -”

 

“Heavens above, man -” O’Brien raised his hands to both sides of his head as though he were trying to block out what he was hearing.  He shook his head wildly and put a hand on Adam’s shoulder, the flesh was still burning hot, the breathing was still ragged and harsh, there was even a slight wheezing as he struggled to get it through his lungs.

 

The door opened and several men came in with buckets of ice that some of the other men had chipped from the ice floes that, although far less now, still played tag with the ship.  Jamieson had a sheet covering the naked body of the sick man and upon a nod of the head from him the buckets of ice were tipped over the sheet.

 

“Nooo,” O’Brien shook his head as though what he was seeing was his worse nightmare, “You can’t be serious, Jamieson,  you’re going to kill him” and he began to thrust aside the ice,  spilling it onto the rugs.

 

“Mr O’Brien, we were killing him before,  but I assure you, this will help him, please, believe me.”

 

O’Brien stepped back, clenching and unclenching his fists as he looked down upon his friend.  Adam had inhaled sharply, as though even in the deepest consciousness of his mind, he was aware of the ice under which he lay.   Two more sailors came and tossed their buckets of ice over him, looked doubtfully at Jamieson,  and anxiously at O’Brien.  The treatment wasn’t appearing to be that acceptable to them either.  They left the cabin and closed the door.

 

“He’ll get pneumonia.” O’Brien whispered.

 

“Another thing - here, sir, help me raise him up.”

 

“Why, what torture are you going to put him through now?” O’Brien closed.

 

“You’ll see, sir, just help me up here.”

 

O’Brien approached the bed doubtfully, and carefully raised Adam into a sitting position.   He looked even more concerned as Jamieson approached with a large pair of scissor and proceeded, very carefully, to cut away the tousled black curls. O’Brien raised his eyes to stare into Jamiesons face,

 

“If this doesn’t work, Jamieson,  you’ll be more than sorry I can assure you.”

 

“It will work, sir, I promise you.” Jamieson insisted, but his hand trembled as he snipped off another black tress of hair.

 

…………………………

 

Hoss Cartwright ambled over to the door and pulled it open, then blinked in surprise at seeing Andrew Pearson standing on the threshold.  Both men seemed a little uncertain as to how to approach the other, Andrew coughed and Hoss gulped.

 

“I -er - I met one of your hands back of my place, he said your Pa was at home today and I thought it would be a good idea to come on over and discuss about those water rights.” Andrew said, passing his hand over his jaw as he spoke.

 

“Yeah, well, you’d best come on in then -” Hoss said and stepped aside, closing the door behind Andrew when the man had stepped into the room.

 

Andrew removed his hat and looked uncomfortably around the room. He hadn’t expected anything this grand, this well built.   He saw Joe  standing by the hearth and nodded over at him,

 

“You must be Joe Cartwright, heard tell about you, sir.”

 

“Thanks, pleased to meet you too, Mr Pearson,” Joe nodded and watched the man as he turned to look at the far end of the room,

 

“My, this is some grand place you have here.” he said, his voice awed.

 

“Thank you,” a deep voice answered him from behind him, and he spun on his heel to see Ben Cartwright walking from his desk, his hand extended towards him and a smile on his face, “Pleased to see you, Mr Pearson.”

 

“Er - Andrew Pearson - sir,”  Andrew twisted his hat in his hands and smiled, “As we’re to be neighbours, sir, perhaps you could call me Andrew.”

 

“Certainly.   Hoss, ask Hop Sing to rustle up some coffee for our guest.”

 

Hoss cast a black look at Andrew and turned to obey his father while Joe slowly made his way to the big leather chair into which he gratefully settled.   He could see, from there, his father beckoning Andrew to a chair in front of the desk, and then pulling out a map from the drawer.

 

“Right now, Mr - Andrew,” Ben raised his dark eyes and smiled, before looking back down at the map, he stabbed at the thin blue line that indicated the stream that flowed from the mountains down through the Ponderosa onto the Pearson’s homestead and after some miles back onto the Ponderosa.  “Water’s precious hereabouts, Mr - I mean Andrew - especially in the dry season.  If we have drought then it’s even more precious.  Now,  our agreement with the previous owner of your place was that the water, being God given, should continue to flow without diversion by either party.  You see -” he pointed to the stream as it flowed from the mountain and traced it to the borders of Andrew’s land, “if we stopped it anywhere along here, your land would have no water for your grazing stock.   It you stopped it anyplace, or tried to divert it, you’d be denying us free rights to it further down here.” he traced the stream back through Andrew’s land down into the Ponderosa where it then trickled into the Tahoe.

 

“I quite understand that, sir.”  Andrew frowned, “But surely if I tried to divert some of it to flow - as a kind of tributary to reach the drier part of my land, over here for example - without stopping its natural flow onto your land, surely that would cause you no problem?”

 

“At the moment the streams flowing full,  we had more rain than usual during the early spring, but should there be a drought then any diversion from the main stream would precipitate the problem of the water drying up altogether, too soon.”

 

Andrew bowed his head, nodded, and was about to speak when Hoss appeared with the coffee.   He looked at his father and raised his eye brows before muttering something and taking his leave.  The door was heard to close quite sharply and his footsteps sounded hollow upon the boards of the porch.

 

Joe watched Andrew Pearson with some interest.   He had not been totally ignorant of Peggy’s concerns regarding the man, and Hoss’ indignation was evident, but to Joe, it seemed that Andrew Pearson was a pleasant easy going man who was in the difficult position of being attracted by a woman who happened to be engaged to his brother, his absent brother.  He sighed, and sat quietly listening to the conversation between Andrew and his father.

 

He could understand both Peggy and Hoss’ concerns.    Adam had a charmed life in many respects but when it came to women, he just somehow didn’t manage to get himself sorted out right.   Joe chewed on the inside of his cheek, and frowned,  being honest it seemed to be a Cartwright trait.  Perhaps their father  had used up all the romance in the family by marrying three women.   Perhaps that meant they would none of them get married anyhow.   He now started to chew on his thumb nail, it would hardly be fair for that to happen, he sighed.   His mind trickled over to those girls he had loved, and lost, and then he remembered Seebowisha.  His throat tightened immediately and he struggled to cut free from the memories of her, her love, her soft velvet voice.

 

“Joe -”  Ben’s voice cut through his thoughts and almost gratefully he looked up and over at them

 

“Yes, Pa?”

 

“Can you remember where Adam put the papers that were drawn up between Brewster and us?”

 

“No, Pa, sorry I don’t,”  Joe replied and looked at Andrew, threw him a smile and was pleased at the smile he received in return.

 

The two men resumed their conversation and Joe rose to his feet.   He was able to move around the room with greater ease now,  and slowly made his way to the door.  He opened it slowly and stood there at the threshold,  savouring the warm breeze that wafted upon his upturned face.

 

Hoss was leaning against the corral fence, just staring out at the horizon, his face was still, thoughtful, not quite in repose but meditative.

 

“Hey, Hoss -”

 

Hoss turned, saw Joe hovering at the doorway and grinned.  He strode over and helped Joe to the chair on the porch

 

“Hey, Joe, you sure are doing well now, ain’t cha?”

 

“Feeling stronger every day, brother.” Joe grinned and sighed contentedly, “I’ll be back in the saddle by next week, I betcha.”

 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Hoss chuckled and turned to pull up a chair so that he could sit beside his brother and share the warmth of the day with him.

 

“You looked deep in thought just then, what’s on your mind, Hoss?”

 

“Aw, that Pearson fella.” he glanced over at the door, and lowered his voice, “Sure annoys me the way he’s chasing after Barbara, Miss Scott, I mean.”

 

“Look, Hoss, he seems to me a decent enough kind of guy.  Why not give him a break, huh?”

 

“Oh sure, and what do I have to tell Adam when he gets home and finds that Barbara’s gone and done what that Laura Dayton did to him, huh?  And we didn’t do nothing to stop it happening.”

 

   “Some things have to follow their natural course, Hoss.” Joe shrugged and twiddled with a button on his shirt, “Absence doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder you know.  Sometimes -” he frowned and bit his lip, “Sometimes it just happens that it’s out of sight, out of mind.”

 

“Yeah, but Adam’s been hurt enough times, Joe.  He wants to settle down and have a wife, and kids.  Jest the same as me and you, ain’t that so?”

 

“You want to get married and have kids, huh, Hoss?”  Joe grinned and rocked the chair back so that he could stretch his legs, “And you think Pa and me, we could handle that, do you?”

 

“Ain’t nothing wrong wanting to marry, Joe.  Jest that, speaking for myself, I jest ain’t found the right gal yet.”

 

“Plenty of gals in town would want to marry you, Hoss.”

 

“Yeah, but ain’t none of ’em I’d care to wed, believe you me”  Hoss grimaced and then sighed, “But Adam’s found himself a real nice lady, I thought she loved him and now I ain’t so sure.”

 

“Perhaps she isn’t either, Hoss.”  Joe said quietly, “You can’t force love, it isn’t fair.   You’ve got to let it alone, Hoss, in the end it will be between Adam, Barbara and Pearson.”

 

Hoss nodded, sighed and his face crumpled up in the manner it did when he was worrying over something.   Joe shook his head, closed his eyes, and allowed his mind to drift back to memories that gave him more comfort than some he had had previously.

 

 

Chapter   72 

 

“The fever’s down,” Jamieson whispered, “It’s down.  Temperature nearly normal and he’s sleeping.”

 

O’Brien leaned forward to observe the Captain, listened to hear the shallow breathing, the normal breathing of a man in a deep sleep.   Jamieson rubbed his face and shook his head all at one and the same time, he had never felt more exhausted nor more elated.

 

“Best get him out of this bed and into warm dry clothes now.”  he continued, “William, close the window.   Get a fire lit.  We got to make sure the temperature stays at a proper level.”

 

Together they removed the wet bedding, and if Adam were aware of anything he certainly gave no evidence of it.  They clothed him and then set him down on the dry bedding, pulled over the covers and looked at one another with satisfaction.

 

“He may not forgive you for cutting his hair and removing his beard.” O’Brien teased gently.

 

“Well,  I did hesitate in taking off too much hair, to be honest.  The gentleman I saw being treated in Italy had his shaved off entirely.”

 

O’Brien merely smiled and looked at the boy,  William, who was carefully lighting the fire.  Jamieson sat down on a comfortable chair and once again rubbed his face, then looked at O’Brien,

 

“Sir, my advice to you is to get to your own bed now.  I shall stay here and make sure that the Captain continues to make progress,  if there is anything to report I shall send William immediately.”

 

“Thank you, Jamieson.”  O’Brien tossed a smile over to William and quietly left the cabin.

 

He was tired, exhausted in fact.  It was all he could do to keep his legs from buckling from under him.   He was halfway to his quarters when Masters came to him

 

“How is he, Dan?”

 

“Recovering.  Thank God, he’s recovering.”  and before he knew it the whisper went around the crew like a flame igniting whipcord.

 

“And - and what orders for the day, sir?” Masters smiled, back to all things maritime now,  equilibrium was restored.  He saluted the second in command, and awaited orders.

 

“Let’s head for home, Masters.  Tell the helmsman co-ordinates 37:47:36North to 122.33.17 West.    Lower the sails and make best use of that wind.” he looked up at the sky and filled his lungs with good clean sea air as he watched Masters mount the ladder to where Gibbs stood at the steering wheel.   The Ainola was heading for home.

 

With the best will in the world Jamieson fell into an exhausted sleep.   William Hucknell, Midshipman, slipped down to the mess and had a quick breakfast, then arranged a tray of things for the orderly, and the Captain.  Everyone seemed cheerful, no one even cuffed him around the head as they did usually.  The Midshipmen were the most unfortunate of beings on the ships, falling between, so to speak, two stools, being as one seaman put it neither fish nor fowl.

 

He opened the door very quietly, balancing the tray carefully on his arm and hoping not to disturb those sleeping in the cabin.  He was surprised when upon turning towards the Captain’s bed he saw two bright dark eyes staring up at him,

 

“Who are you?” whispered Adam, his voice hoarse, and his eyes slowly  closing although he was making valiant efforts to keep them open.

 

“William, sir, William Hucknell.  I’m your steward at the moment.”

 

“Of course.  I remember now -”

 

“Would you like something to eat or drink, sir?”

 

Adam mumbled something but it made no sense,  he was already slipping back into a deep, comfortable and healing sleep.

 

………………………

 

“What’s on your mind, Hoss?”

 

Hoss Cartwright turned to observe his father  with a slight frown on his face, he pouted slightly and then thumbed his hat to the back of his head,

 

“I was jest thinking how much I’m missing Adam around the place.  Dang it, Pa, we don’t even know where he is -”

 

“True enough.” Ben nodded and steered Buck closer to his son.

 

Side by side the two horsemen looked down upon the valley through which the stream flowed, the stream that had been the subject of discussion with Pearson that morning.

 

“I was looking at the moon last night,” Hoss leaned upon the pommel of his saddle, the leather upon which he sat creaked slightly, and Chubb shook his mane and snorted softly, “Sure was so bright and clear, lit the whole place up like it were daylight.”

 

“I noticed.” Ben smiled, “Made sleep a bit difficult.”

 

“Ain’t’cha missing him too, Pa?”

 

“Of course, as much as I’d miss any of you when you’re not home.”

 

“But it’s different though with Adam gone.  All that water he’s on in that boat -”

 

“Ship, Hoss, he’s on a ship.” Ben smiled gently.

 

“Shucks, Pa, ship or boat, what’s it matter, same difference, both on too much water and both can sink.”

 

“Just because we’ve not heard from him, Hoss, doesn’t mean that his ships sunk.” Ben attempted to recapture the smile but his heart shivered, it were as though a slither of ice had slipped into it, and turned very slowly.

 

“I was wondering if he were looking at the same moon last night and thinking about us all here.  Thinking of - of Miss Scott.”

 

“Really?”  Ben raised his eye brows, so here we were, he pondered, this is the nub of the matter.   He jerked the reins and turned Buck to the side, and Hoss did likewise, together they rode at a walk into the woodland that grew close by.

 

“Guess he’d be thinking of her, and their lives together when he gets back.  Reckon they’ll get married, Pa?”

 

“Is that a question or what, Hoss?   Do you think I actually know the answer?”

 

“Wal,  I don’t know it, that’s fer sure.   Thought they were gonna to, but lately I ain’t bin so sure.   That Pearson fella coming along and chasing after her, and she seems all skittish and such, ain’t no knowing now.”

 

“No,” Ben nodded, “There’s no knowing now, Hoss.  Sometimes we can make plans and forget that - well - plans don’t always go according to how we want them.”  he reached out and slapped his on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, Hoss, it isn’t your problem.”

 

“It sure is my problem, Pa.  Dang it, I can’t git to sleep fer worrying about it.  Adam shouldn’t have to come home and find his woman don’t care for him because of this Pearson fella.”

 

Ben heaved a sigh, shook his head.  

 

“Don’t interfere, Hoss.   Believe me, in situations like this, just steer clear.”  he cleared his throat, “Now, quit your yammering and worrying about things that you can’t do anything about, and let’s ride back home.  Hop Sing will be throwing a fit if we’re late.”

 

…………………

 

Mrs Anderson leaned forwards and whispered into the ear of the woman sitting next to her on the church pew.

 

“Never thought she’d do it, never in a million years.”

 

“Well, she has, and a prettier bride you could ever wish to see…”  Widow Hawkins replied in a not too subtle whisper.

 

“I guess for an older bride she’s ain’t looking so bad.”  Mrs Anderson replied with acid dripping from every word.

 

The church was packed tight.  Candles flickered and made the flowers on the altar and along the pews look golden and scarlet.  She was walking towards the two men waiting at the altar, two tall handsome men.  One turned to look at her and smiled.

 

How handsome he was in his uniform.  He wore his medal at his breast and his black hair curled over the collar, and his hazel eyes were fixed to her face, and she saw him smile, she saw the trust and the love there,  the admiration and tenderness.   Never had his back seemed so straight, he looked slim and tall and as she approached he extended his hand towards her.

 

Ben Cartwright was taking her down the aisle, she could see his face stern and dark and the black eyes were anxious, as though he were trying to puzzle out a conundrum.  She saw Peggy in the congregation, looking pretty in her best gown, sitting with Lilith.   Lilith waved, she carried a rose in her hand.

 

Adam Cartwright’s eyes turned now towards his bride and his hand took hold of hers, he led her the last few paces towards the altar and the Pastor was saying.

 

“Have you the ring?”

 

Mrs Anderson leaned forwards “It won’t last, you know.  She doesn’t love him.”

 

She turned her head and looked down the aisle.  The whisper grew louder … and louder.  It filled the chapel.  It filled her head.

 

“Have you the ring?”

 

 

 

Chapter 73

 

Jamieson was pleased with the progress his patients were making.  O’Brien was eating heartily now, and looking stronger and more confident of taking temporary command.  Adam slept soundly.    All signs of the fever seemed to have departed, and although when he did wake he was physically weak and lethargic,  he was able to drink and eat some thin soup when spoon fed by  the orderly.   He slept on and off throughout Tuesday, through Tuesday night and when the bell tolled for the 6 a.m. watch he awoke, blinked as the light struck his eyes and stretched.

 

“Good morning, Captain.  Would you like some breakfast, sir?”

 

William’s eager face looked down at him, and Adam rather sleepily said that would be a good idea and thank you very much.

 

William promptly left the cabin, leaving Adam alone to look around the cabin before pushing back the covers of the bed.   He stretched again and passed his hand over his face.  He frowned.   He repeated the process, and then felt gingerly around his jaw line.  He got to his feet, swayed, sat back down again and stared at the floor.  He had to think over some of the fragments of memory that seemed to be flooding into his brain now.   There was the fight, the Russian shot Abbott, the papers - he sat bolt upright - the papers and instantly he placed his hands on his torso where the bandages were wrapped around him.

 

He was about to pull them from him when the door opened and O’Brien stepped into the cabin, looked at him and smiled,

 

“William told me you were looking much better, Captain, and to be honest, you surely do look much better, and -”

 

“The papers, Daniel - I can’t remember -”

 

“I’ve got them.  You gave them to me.” Daniel said quietly, and placed a kindly reassuring hand upon Adam’s arm, “It’s alright, they’re safe, although I doubt if there is any great danger regarding them now.”

 

Adam quelled his anxiety, nodded and frowned.  He looked then at Daniel and forced a smile to his lips,

 

“Now then - are you going to try and convince me that I stood on the bridge during a south easterly and it blew my beard off?”

 

They laughed together, and O’Brien shook his head,

 

“Jamieson  decided it was the wisest thing … get rid of anything that could have aggravated your fever.  You’ve been very ill, Captain - we thought we were going to lose you.”

 

“Hmmm,   I see.” he passed his hand over his chin again and frowned, “I was getting quite attached to that beard.” 

 

“Well, I doubt it will take you long to grow another -” Daniel chuckled, “Here you are, sir, a clean shirt -”

 

“No, hot water and soap for goodness sake, I want to be rid of this invalid smell as soon as possible.”

 

He had finished his ablutions when William returned with the morning meal.  Ruefully he looked at his reflection in the mirror.   Yes, he could see he had been ill, his eyes were still sunken in their sockets, and still lacked sparkle, his lips were dry and cracked.  He sighed, and tweaked at his hair, grimaced and shook his head.   His mane of black curls were gone,  but a neat crop framed his handsome face.

 

He shrugged himself into his shirt and pants, and then sat down at the table to eat his breakfast.  He looked at Daniel thoughtfully,

 

“What’s the date?”

 

Daniel told him, and proceeded to relate all that had happened during the Captain’s illness.   They had set their course for San Francisco.   The wind was good,  there was a good speed driving the ship,  the weather was warmer.

 

Adam listened to the report thoughtfully, nodded occasionally, and then pursed his lips, the scar on his upper lip, sustained when he was a youth at college now obvious with the removal of the moustache and beard.

 

“You realise, Daniel, that once we get to San Francisco there will be others wanting to get those papers from us.   Pelman for one …”

 

“But, surely -”

 

“Remember the difficulties you encountered just getting the instructions to me before we even embarked on this assignment?   The men who nearly killed your cousin?”  he frowned and shook his head, “No,  there’s going to be more problems, Daniel, and I don’t think we dare to contact Pelman.    He’ll know when the Ainola docks and I guarantee he will be more than eager to meet us again.”   he tapped his mouth thoughtfully with his forefinger.

 

O’Brien looked thoughtful but couldn’t think of any sensible thing to say.  It seemed such a long time since he had shared that long journey with Jotham, but the more he thought about it the clearer it became, particularly the face of the one man who had escaped from the ambush at the way station.   He glanced at Adam who was ladling sugar into his coffee and stirring the spoon round  the cup very slowly.

 

“Pelman will know that Lawson spoke Russian.   Jack’s brother, being on the list of names would be known to Pelman, perhaps he even manoeuvred that Jack was on this ship.  Possibly,  Pelman will expect us to know something of what is on those papers.”  he frowned and sipped the coffee slowly, “If he suspects that we know something,  he won’t want us to get away with that information.”

 

“Do you believe what Jack and Williamson told you, that this has to do with a hard core Confederate group attempting to regain some power for the South.”

 

“ They told the same story, maybe from different angles - Williamson didn’t want any more war, hoped it would bring about peaceful relations on a more balanced political platform whereas Jack didn’t really seem sure of what he wanted except that his family regained their honour, and, no doubt, their home and wealth.   He was young enough to be that selfish.” he sighed and felt misery overwhelm him at the thought of the young man dead on that snow laden plateau.

 

O’Brien once again lapsed into silence.      He thought of all the dangers they had overcome merely to be messengers, carrying papers that seemed so vitally important to some, but that seemed totally valueless to him.  He shook his head, and stood up, went to the window and looked outside, at the way the water was turning from black and grey, to grey and green.

 

“It seems a bit hard that we have been risking our lives for some sheets of paper with a list of names that -”

 

“A list of names some of whom are very powerful men, and women, Daniel.   Given the resources they could rally the Confederacy, re-start the whole mess again.”

 

“No, I don’t think they would do that, perhaps just - as you said earlier - even up the balance a little.  Prop up the southern states, have a more powerful political voice.”

 

Adam paused with his cup half way to his lips, and he looked over at his friend with a slight frown on his brow,

 

“Really?  Is that what you believe, hope or just think?” he said quietly.

 

“I don’t know.”  Daniel admitted honestly, spreading out his hands in some kind of gesture that indicated his frustration with the matter, “It’s just that so many old families lost everything that their families had worked to build up.  Generations of families -”

 

Adam lowered his cup slowly onto the saucer, glanced at the younger man,  then stroked his upper lip with his forefinger,

 

“And  so,  what side did you support during the War, Daniel?” he asked, and kept his eyes fixed onto the title of a book on a  shelf directly ahead of him.

 

Daniel shook his head, shrugged,

 

“The South.” he replied with a thickening of  his throat, “I - I and my family all supported the South.   My eldest brother died at the first battle of Bull Run.”  he shrugged, “It’s past now, Adam, old allegiances -” again he made a gesture with his hands as though to underline the comment, “they have to go by the board now.   I serve the United States, under President Grant.”  he looked anxiously at his Captain who was looking poker faced, heavy eye lids lowered over dark  hazel eyes, “I know that you sympathised with the North, Adam, but now -.”

 

“But now you tell me that you supported the South, you tell me that you feel it would be beneficial for the South to have some form of support to re-establish the old families.   You could, for  all you know, be one of the names on those lists, Daniel.”

 

“I could be, but I’m not.”  Daniel O’Brien sighed, “I’m not, and I never would endorse a policy that would endanger the United States as it stands now under a united Government.  Adam -” he leaned slightly forward, “I just wanted you not to be so condemning of those who merely want the security that was theirs before the War.  Many of those families are poverty stricken now.  They see their land, their property, exploited by carpet baggers, entrepreneurs, everything going into their pockets and nothing benefiting the South.   I only -”

 

“You want your family to be re-established to their former glory, like Jack?”  Adam raised a cynical eye brow.

 

“No.”  he shook his head, “No,  my family are settled elsewhere now, those who survived the war.   I was -” again he paused, swallowed a gulp, “My wife’s family were very staunch Confederates.   They lost so much and -”

 

“And?”

 

“I’m just worried that my father-in-law’s name would be on that list.   He’s a fine man, Adam, I - I wouldn’t want to be the one who betrayed him.”

 

Adam shook his  head, a worried anxious man.  He had never doubted Daniel about anything, never had cause nor reason to do so.  Now, once again, he was being forced to acknowledge that a friend upon whom he entrusted so much was wavering, could, in fact, betray him.   He looked at Daniel, at the honest, open face, the wide eyes and handsome face.  

 

“What is his name?  Your father - in -law?”

 

“Rupert Meredith Melkevik.”

 

Adam bowed his head, steepled his fingers and tapped his chin thoughtfully as he went over the list that Philip Thomas had written down.  All the names that had been on the list were firmly fixed in his memory and one by one he checked them off.   After some moments had elapsed he looked sternly at Daniel,

 

“Melkevik isn’t a name on the list.” he saw the look of relief on Daniel’s face and nodded, “No,  his name isn’t on the list.”

 

He poured more coffee into his cup, into a cup that had been brought in for Daniel by the thoughtful young steward, he saw the tension ease away from his friend, the smile returned to his face and the eyes sparkled.  

 

“All the same,” Adam said in a voice that appeared quite nonchalant, “It may be a good idea for the papers to be returned to my care, Daniel.”

 

“Happily,” Daniel smiled and pulled the papers from his pocket and handed them to the Captain, who glanced over them casually before placing them on the book shelf.

 

Chapter 74

 

“My brother supported the south,” Adam said when it seemed that the silence was going to become overly uncomfortable between them,  “My Pa used to say the Civil War stops at the borders of the Ponderosa, but no one can stop a man from thinking and making a choice.   I’m 12 years older than Joe, always felt protective of him, thought I knew how he felt about things and then he spoke out for the South.” he frowned, looked down at the dregs of coffee in his cup, pulled a slight grimace, “Of course at first I thought he was just being rather romantically involved with it all because his mother was from New Orleans - but then it got to be more serious and I had to face the fact that my little brother didn’t want, nor need, my protecting anymore.  Even if it meant we were going to go in opposite directions.”

 

“Did he go and fight?”

 

“No, neither of us did that.”  Adam screwed up his face a little as though the memory of that time still pained him, “Every so often there would be under currents and tensions, but I could never have -” he paused and his eyes took on a slightly haunted look, “No, I couldn’t have joined the army anymore than Joe could have left the Ponderosa and fought for the Confederacy.  I’m not saying that we didn’t believe in the principles that each stood for, but we had too much respect for Pa, for each other.  Hoss, my middle brother, he was literally the man in the middle in more ways than one, he was so well balanced.” he smiled and then looked at Daniel “You’d get on well with Hoss.”

 

“Yes,” Daniel grinned, “I think I would, with them both, even if they did wind me up when we first met.”

 

They shared a chuckle together and Daniel relaxed a little more.  It was not often that Adam opened  up to talk about his family, anymore than Daniel could bring himself to talk about Maria.   It would have meant a struggle afterwards to keep focussed on what they were having to do now,  a struggle to stop them being at the forefront of their minds and emotions.

 

“We’ll be in San Francisco in a few days, may be sooner if the wind remains this fresh, what do you think we should do about Pelman?”

 

Adam looked at Daniel and allowed his mind to return to the interview they had had with Commodore Alfred Pelman.   He remembered the way the secretary had entered and slid papers on the desk, the covert glance out of the side of his eyes and he bit his bottom lip, and shook his head.

 

“We may have to let him play the first hand, Daniel.”

 

“Isn’t there any way we could avoid that?   Couldn’t we -” he paused and shook his head, “We need to get the papers to the President, don’t we?  He’s the one who should have them in his possession, not Pelman.”

 

“I believe that if Pelman gets possession of them, Daniel, he’ll merely destroy them, then report that we failed in our mission.  All the lives of the men wasted -” he stopped speaking as there came a knock on the door, and Jamieson entered the room.

 

Adam promptly rose to his feet,  perhaps he had over estimated on how well he was for he swayed slightly, and had to reach out and lean on the table for support before steadying up.

 

“Mr Jamieson, I believe I owe you my life.” he extended his other hand and shook Jamieson’s warmly,  “Thank you for that -”

 

“Well,  sir, I was sorry about the hair and beard, but I’m afraid they just had to go.  Once I’d set my mind on a thing, I like to see it through to the end.” Jamieson replied with a slight blush.

 

“Well, you certainly did that,”  Adam smiled widely and his dark eyes twinkled, “I dreamt I was on an ice floe with several seals who were regarding me with some curiosity.”

 

“No doubt sir.” Jamieson nodded, “I came to make sure you were alright, and to give you some medication,  and to remind you - both - that you need to rest.”  he narrowed his eyes at O’Brien who laughed in protest and then rose to his feet, bade Adam good day and left the cabin.   “Captain, I hope that I am not having to remonstrate with you about this?   If you push yourself too far now,  you will end up even worse than before.”  

 

He measured out some medication into a small glass and put it on the table,  gave Adam and stern look, then demanded to do a medical check.  Adam sighed, it was even  worse than when Paul Martin came to check them over, but he knew better than to protest too hard.

 

……………………..

 

Paul Martin was shaking his head in exasperation as he checked Joe’s back,  the reflexes of his legs, his eyes and even his chest.   Joe submitted to each touch of the doctors hands on his body with a wince, or a groan - not out of pain but because Paul’s hands were so cold.

 

“You Cartwrights, why you even bother with a doctor I don’t know!” Paul expostulated.  “I tell you not to do something and what happens, in no time at all, at a time that suits YOU, you go ahead and do the very thing I said not to do.”  he shook his head, leaned forward and squinted as he stared into Joe’s clear green eyes, he sighed, straightened up and once again shook his head, “Have you any pain?”

 

“My legs still are painful, and my back aches a real lot,  and I can’t walk properly either.” Joe complained, “I shuffle  around like an old man.”

 

“Good grief, boy,  by my estimation you should still be in a wheel chair.   Surely you didn’t expect to walk away from what happened to you  as though nothing had occurred?”

 

“Well, I had kinda hoped.  Adam didn’t seem to have much of a problem getting about once he left the wheel chair.”

 

“Your brothers injuries were different to the one  you sustained.”  Paul said tersely, and tossed his medical paraphernalia back into his bag.  “It’s always the same -”

 

“Yeah, I know, but Doc, when will I be able to get back into the saddle.  I’ve a lot to do around here with Adam gone.”

 

“I don’t know why I bother -” Paul slapped his hat back on his head, and then took it back off,  “Why ask me, Joseph?  If I say in a month’s time, I’ll be seeing you ride into town in two weeks.”

 

He looked at Ben who shrugged and looked sympathetic,

 

“Light duties only, Ben.  I don’t want him to be lifting or carrying anything heavy.  No riding for a month.  A MONTH!” he glared at Joe, who looked all puppy dog eyes at him and gave a winsome smile into the bargain.

 

He left the house muttering under his breath about patients who think they’re the doctor, Cartwrights with heads as thick as cannon balls and bones like India rubber. 

Hoss closed the door and grinned,

 

“Reckon you got yourself a clean bill of health, little brother.” he chuckled, and he rubbed his hands together in glee.

 

“Now then, now then -” Ben cautioned, “I don’t rightly see how Paul said any such thing.   Light duties only, young man, d’you hear?” and he looked sternly at Joe who smiled and nodded.

 

They all turned as Hop Sing came into the room to announce that the meal was ready.  The main door opened and Candy stepped in with a smile, removed his hat and gun belt which he deposited on the bureau.

 

“I saw Dr Martin leaving.  He didn’t seem very happy about something -” he grinned  over at Joe, “Wasn’t you, upsetting him again, huh?”

 

“As if I would -” Joe chuckled, and slapped Candy warmly on the back as they reached the table and pulled back the chairs.

 

………………………………...

 

Adam woke up with a jerk, and for a second or two had to concentrate to recall to mind exactly where he was, and what he had been doing.   How tired he felt, and he closed his eyes again before realising that he was slumped on his desk, his head cradled in his hands.  Someone had come in and placed a blanket around his shoulders for the cabin was cold.   He slowly raised his head, rubbed his eyes and passed his fingers through his hair, so that it stood a little on end as a result.

 

Looking around the cabin he felt a sense of unease. There was the immediate fear that someone had come in and searched for the papers again.  Then he relaxed, rubbed his face again and chided himself for  being such an ‘old woman’.  

 

He sat upright in his chair and looked down at the letter he had been writing.   There was already one letter written and sealed with red wax, the imprint of  the seal his father had given him some time back gleaming up at him.   It was just a simple Ponderosa Pine, their brand mark, and he rubbed his thumb across it fondly.

 

Then with a sigh he returned his attention to the letter on the desk that he had been writing to Barbara.   He dipped the pen in the ink and sat there with it poised above the paper, only to decide that he didn’t like what he had written.  He tossed the pen down and screwed the paper up, tossing it into the small fire.   He shook his head, remonstrated with himself, the letter had to be written,  why on earth was it becoming so difficult. 

 

He pursed his lips, rubbed his chin.  It was difficult because he had never written a letter like it before in his life.   He pulled out another sheet of paper, smoothed it on the desk and once again picked up the pen.

 

“My dearest Barbara,”   he wrote very neatly and precisely.  He turned to look out of the cabin window, and noticed how blue the sky was and that sun was actually shining through into the cabin.  

 

“My dearest Barbara,

 

I shall soon be in San Francisco.    This has been a difficult assignment, and one that has provided a considerable amount of time for reflection.    When I get to San Francisco  I cannot guarantee that I shall be able to return home right away.  I may be forced to remain absent from home for  a considerable time longer.

 

Barbara - it’s important for you to know that I hold you in the very highest estimation”   he paused there, and bit his bottom lip.   Was that too cold, too dismissive?   He tried to imagine how she would react upon reading that sentence.  Would she anticipate what was to follow?   Perhaps if she did it would make it easier somehow.  He dipped the pen back into the inkwell,

 

“ and the greatest affection.    I recall to mind that I wrote to you before leaving home, and now feel that I placed you in a quite unfair position, Barbara.  It was thoughtless and unkind of me to coerce you into being bound to a promise that, perhaps, you may be unable to keep.  Please feel free from any obligations that promise may have placed upon you to me. 

 

There have been times while I have been away here -“ he paused again, and sighed, rubbed his brow, closed his eyes to try to capture the right words.   “when I anticipated my own death, and it has made me realise that I could not expect you to be bound to someone whom you could never be sure could provide you with the security and home life you deserve.

 

I am writing because I do not feel I can leave you with who knows how long before I return to actually speak to you.   Should chance bring to you someone whom you could love and who could love you in the way you deserve -“ again he paused,  should he actually be honest and admit that he didn’t love her in the way she deserved?  Would by omitting that fact leave her waiting and hoping,?  He shook his head, rubbed his brow again and began to tap a tune on the desk with his fingers.

 

“Barbara, love exists in many different forms, and how I feel for you is not the love that I first thought, but that of a true friend.   Believe me I wish you much joy, much happiness, and the chance to have all the love you so richly merit.

 

Forgive me, my dear girl, if I have failed you.  I seek only your  long term happiness and if, I have put written this down somewhat clumsily, please forgive me for that also.”

 

He read it over twice, and shook his head.   It was not adequate, and he imagined her face upon reading it, and felt wretched at the thought of hurting her.  But he knew and had known since some time during that sojourn in Alaska, that he did not love her enough to commit to marriage.   He could never play false to anyone and if that were to mean he would remain single all his life long, so be it.  

 

 

Chapter 75

 

“Thank you, Andrew, it’s really very kind of you.   But, I really should not have accepted your invitation to the picnic.  It’s not fair to you, you see.   I mean, oh dear, this is coming out all wrong.  What I mean is - well, I know Adam and I are not officially engaged but-” Barbara Scott sighed, “but we have an understanding that when he returns home -” she paused again, took in a deep breath, “Adam and I will be engaged then so it would really be very unfair of me to go on this picnic with you.  I do hope you understand?   Of course, I could be presuming too much but -” 

 

She looked at her reflection in the mirror.   She shook her head and gazed out of her bedroom window as she picked up her gloves from the dressing table.  Oh if it had only rained, really heavy rain that could have started during the night so riding to the Pearson’s would have been impossible and certainly have ruled out any thought of a picnic.

 

But it hadn’t rained, in fact, it was the most perfect day for a picnic.  She picked u p her bonnet, a new bonnet, but not the one that Candy had thought she would have bought, it was one trimmed with forget-me-knots and had a silky cream ribbon.  She turned and looked at herself in the mirror.

 

It had been such a strange dream the other night.  Even now when she thought of it her stomach turned over.  She could recall every line of Adam’s face, that lovely handsome face with the well defined mouth, the high cheekbones and dark eyes.  The way he held out his hand to her, such lovely hands.  She had always been impressed by them, could remember even now how tempted she had been to grab hold of them when she had first come to Virginia City and they had sat close to gether with the books, and she had listened to that deep voice, watched his fingers trailing over the pages of the book.  She loved him.  She loved every inch of his being and would gladly have kissed the ground he walked upon but -.

 

That was the problem.  That ‘but -’ !  Who had been the other man in the dream?   She shivered and knew that she could have supplied the name only too well.

 

How could one love someone so much and yet know in the depth of her very being that they could not marry.   What was it?  Something wrong inside her?   Something about him?  Would she have felt the same as this if Andrew Pearson had not come to Virginia City, or would there have been a day when another man would have ridden into her life and made her realise that she could never be the wife of Adam Cartwright.

 

She looked at her reflection again.  This pensive faced, anxious looking woman with the dark hair and large eyes.   She was not an ugly woman she knew that, but she also knew that Adam was a man not attracted by looks.  Some women she knew could be very ugly but some quality within them would have men buzzing about her like bees to honey.  Adam would have seen that quality within an ugly woman, and loved her.  No, it was something else, it was within herself.  She was the one lacking in regard to him, but not with regard to Andrew.

 

She shivered again and clutched the gloves in her hand tightly against her chest.  She was deceiving Adam now, going on that picnic, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to go, she just had to go to find out for herself what it was that made her so confused, so unsure of herself.

 

She remembered some years ago when she had been a young girl and there had been two men in her life then, in her comfortable confined life with her parents.  Both had pursued her with flowers, candy, sweet talk.  She loved one more one day and the other more the next.  She had asked her mother whom should she choose.

 

“Doesn’t your heart tell you?” her mother had replied in a rather uncharacteristically romantic manner.

 

“No, but I wish it would.”

 

“Then if it doesn’t you can’t be loving either of them enough to commit  to one or the other.”  Mrs Scott had shrugged, and continued with her needle point, “That’s a fact.  You get yourself one of them and you’ll be lingering after the other, mark my words.  You’re too indecisive, Barbara.”

 

Too indecisive - Barbara could hear the words now and they made her shiver.

 

Peggy had left earlier in the day, she was going to the Ponderosa to visit Joe, and had left Barbara marking up books and preparing for the school work for the next week.

 

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it, Barbara.  Why not come with me to see Joe?”

 

“I have too much work, Peggy. “ she had replied and had stuck her nose in the air as though the temptation to leave her work had to be dismissed as irresponsible for a school teacher like herself.

 

“What about later?  It’s too lovely a day to be cooped up indoors.”

 

“I may go out later.” Barbara murmured and picked up Tommy Nugents essay, which required close consideration as he did a lot of mirror writing - she shook her head as though it was imperative she studied the essay other than dawdle with chatter.

 

“Well, may be I shall see you later.”

 

“Of course.”   she had turned, smiled and waited for the door to close.

 

Half an hour later she had hurried up the stairs and changed into her forget-me-not sprigged dress that Miss Woollie had made for her.  Just a simple charming little frock that fitted her perfectly.  Then she had put on her new green shoes and stood in front of the mirror …   and it was then she had seen Adam’s face as clearly as in her dream and had felt her heart somersault over.  It was then she had asked herself

 

“Barbara Scott, what ARE you doing?”

 

Now here she was fixing up her buggy, putting in to the trunk a basket with drinks and glasses, some cakes wrapped in a gingham cloth and a pie.   Here she was with beating heart, butterflies playing catch me if you can in her stomach,  and a longing to be sitting by  a river somewhere with someone who may care for her.

 

………………………..

 

It was good to feel such warmth again.  San Francisco Bay was full of ships in the harbour and it smelt overcrowded and overpoweringly rank in places, but it was good to feel the warmth.

 

Adam sat on the quarter deck beside the Bo’sun who was paying the men their wages.  He watched as every name was marked off in the ledger and the appropriate money  was handed over.   He put name to face and watched them as they saluted him before making way for the next man.   O’Brien was standing behind the chair.   He could feel the nervous tension in the man, it seemed to trickle from him through the boards of the deck and into him.  

 

Jamieson stepped forward and took his salary, he turned to Adam and was about to salute when Adam beckoned him over.

 

“I need to see you before you go, Mr Jamieson.   Could you come to my cabin when the men have been paid off?”

 

“Certainly, Captain.” Jamieson nodded, and walked to the sick bay with an anxious niggle in the back of his mind - was the wound causing problems?  A return of the fever, there was certainly something, some kind of suppressed nervous energy about the man.  He looked at the shelf of medicines and tonics, of powers and other pharmaceutical paraphernalia and wondered what the Captain would most need now.

 

Many of the men would be remaining on board as the ship’s main company, but others were being paid off, and looking forward to resuming their lives before they had signed onto the Ainola for the voyage.  They pocketed their wages and their only thought was on how to spend it.  

 

William Hucknell was the last of the Midshipmen to be paid and he pocketed his salary with a mumbled thanks before turning to the Captain, who beckoned him to his side.

 

“Thank you, William, for all your help after Abbott died.  I have something I’d like to give you in my cabin, could you go down and wait for me there.”

 

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”

 

William was watched with several pairs of envious eyes as  he cluttered  his way to the door leading to the Captain’s quarters.   

 

Now the Marines were being paid off.   The Sergeant of Arms, Duke Day, took his pay and turned to salute the Captain.

 

“Are you staying on board, Duke?”

 

“I am, sir.”

 

“Good.” Adam said no more, just nodded and looked very stern.

 

‘Duke’ Day nodded too, he stepped to one side and stood at attention close to the Captain and one by one his men stepped up beside him, forming a close knit unit of scarlet coated Marines.

 

Gibbs and Davies were last to be paid.  Adam rose to  his feet and shook their hands, thanked them both for everything they had done.   They mumbled their own thanks and clutching their caps and their money in their hands made their way to their quarters.

 

The salary was paid out, the men separating.  The Bo’sun packed up the books and table,  folded up his little chair and after saluting Adam, handed over the ledgers and cash box to him.   Adam then got to his feet and walked to the entrance to his quarters followed by O’Brien.

 

He had spoken to Richard Friend, Timothy Masters and Philip Thomas earlier in his cabin.   He would be sending in a report concerning each one of them and they would hear in due course where they were to be reassigned, perhaps it would be back to the Ainola.   He had shaken their hands, thanked them for their help and professionalism on this journey, then they had gone from the cabin and taken part of his life with them.

 

William Hucknell was standing by the cabin door when he stepped into the room.  O’Brien stepped over to be near the window, out of which he kept casting nervous anxious glances.   For some reason William felt uncomfortable, there was tension in the room of a different kind, but when he saw the smile on Adam’s face directed at him, he relaxed and smiled back.

 

“William, I wanted to thank you for all you had done for me since Abbott died.”

 

“Yes, sir.”  William nodded, looked at O’Brien and then back at Adam.

 

“What do you intend to do when you leave the Ainola?”

 

“Oh,” the youth shrugged, “Probably go to the office and see if there’s a vacancy for a Midshipman.  Most of the others will be there as well, probably have to kick my heels a bit until there is one.”  he frowned, “Probably just racket about town with the others until a berth comes up.”

 

“Have you ever been to a working ranch, William?”

 

“What?  I mean - no, sir.” he frowned, “I’ve been at sea since I was a young ‘un.”

 

“Do you know how to ride a horse?” Adam smiled, his eyes twinkled.

 

“No, sir.”  William smiled, “Never needed to ride a horse.”

 

“I was wondering if you would like to take time off to visit my family, William.  I won’t be able to go for a while, and I know they would like to know that we had completed our assignment safely.  Would you do that favour for me?”

 

William blushed.  Part of him wished he could just ‘racket around town’ with the other Middies, but another part was excited at the thought of going to this other place, this other life.  He smiled

 

“I’d like that, sir.”

 

“Thank you, William.”  Adam opened the top drawer of his desk, “Here’s some extra money for you, and - if I may ask another favour - if you would give this to the person to which it is addressed.” he passed over a package, sealed with red wax and the Ponderosa Pine mark on the seals.

 

“Yes, sir, I shall do that for you.”

 

“You’ll like my family, William, you’ll be well cared for.”

 

“Oh, thank you, sir.”

 

“If you could just wait outside now, Mr Jamieson will be here presently.”

 

William frowned, wondering why he had to wait, why he couldn’t go now.  At least he could have had a little bit of a racket about before having to go, but the tension was there again, something he could feel without knowing why.  O’Brien was looking at Adam, then out of the window.    He noticed the First Lieutenant start, as though he had seen something that he had not wanted, or perhaps, something that had excited him.  O’Brien stepped forward to the desk, placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder and whispered to him, Adam nodded, his eyes narrowed, then he glanced at William and smiled,

 

“Just wait a while outside, William.”

 

William saluted.  He knew at that moment that he would gladly die for his Captain.  He looked at O’Brien, he could see from the man’s eyes that he was worried, perhaps, even afraid.

 

Jamieson came into the cabin, passing William as  he did so.    He noticed the boy slipping something into his jacket pocket and closed the door.

 

“Mr  Jamieson, thank you so much for everything you have done for us on this journey.”

 

“Yes, sir, I -”

 

“Time is short, sir, I haven’t much time so have to ask this of you - will you do me a great favour?”

 

“A favour, sir?”

 

“Would you continue to obey orders even though I - I no longer have command of this ship?”

 

“I don’t  understand, sir.”

 

Adam opened the drawer and handed two envelopes to the orderly who accepted them with a slight frown of confusion.

 

“Would you take these letters to the people concerned?   I promised William a holiday on the Ponderosa,  I’d be very grateful if you would take him with you.”

 

“Take William?”  Jamieson shook his  head, not in refusal of the request, but in order to clear his mind, he stepped closer to the desk, and when he did so he noticed O’Brien step closer to the Captain, his hand hovering close to his jacket. 

 

“Captain, it has been an honour and privilege to serve with you on this trip.  I’ve yet to travel with two more honourable men.  Trust me, sir, tell me whatever you wish of me, and God bless you both.” he paused and looked from one to the other. It was true.  He meant every word.   He saw their faces, stern, resolute, as though about to face - what?   He sighed, and waited.

 

“Do you have civilian clothes?”

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

“Change into them, take William, leave the ship directly and get the first stage to Virginia City.   Please, don’t let anyone take those letters from you, Jamieson.  I have to place you in some danger I’m afraid -” Adam looked anxiously at him, at the rather vacuous features of a bumbling orderly who appeared to lack any initiative until pushed.

 

“I said, sir, you can trust me.” Jamieson said with pride and determination in his voice.

 

“When you leave the ship, do so in as inconspicuous a manner as you can.  Perhaps with a crowd of others …”

 

“Goodness,” Jamieson frowned, and nodded, “Well, of course, sir.”

 

Adam smiled and stood up, shook the man’s hand firmly and then as the orderly turned to leave both Adam and O’Brien saluted him.

 

By the time Jamieson had reached William who was obediently waiting at the door, the letters had disappeared into his jacket pocket.   He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and looked down at him,

 

“Captain’s orders, William, you’re to come with me.”

 

“But I’m going to the Captains ranch,” William protested, wriggling free.

 

“Yes, lad, and so am I.”

 

They looked at one another, understood one another.   It was Captain’s orders after all.

 

 

Chapter 76

 

The grass was swaying very gently in the breeze beside the stream.   Wild flowers grew in such profusion that it was impossible to find a square inch that didn’t have a daisy, buttercup or other sweet wild thing sprouting from it.   For a moment Barbara just sat in the buggy to look over the wide sweep of land before her, and she caught her breath as the gentle beauty of it washed over her, removing doubts and confusion and leaving her relaxed, happy and glad she came.  The sky was soft blue with the sun shining through the trees which provided pockets of shadow and shade.  The stream, the much debated stream, flowed and rippled over the stones and pebbles that could be so clearly seen beneath the pure waters.

 

Andrew came round to the side of the buggy and took her hand to assist her down.  She frowned, usually she managed to get down from buggies very well on her own, but the grip of his hand on hers was a sweet consolation.  Lilith had jumped down with great glee and was running through the grass with her hair flying and her skirts going every which way.

 

“She’s a little hoyden,” Andrew laughed as he watched his daughter tumble over her feet and laughing peek through the grasses at them.

 

Barbara couldn’t speak.  Adam had shown her some wonderful views of the Ponderosa,  had taken her on picnics just like this one, and now the shadow of his presence fell over her and the delight of the view seemed to slip away.  

 

“Shall I take the basket?” Andrew asked and smiled at her, and if his hand did brush against her she didn’t flinch nor pull away, just seemed totally oblivious.  He sighed, lifted out the basket she had brought and carried it along with the one that he had stowed away in the back.

 

They walked through the grass to wards the trees, and here they settled down,  while Lilith spun in circles, or ran about before suddenly coming to rest beside them.  It was to Barbara that she settled by, looking up into the woman’s face with a smile and sidling close to her, leaning upon her shoulder and placing a bunch of wild flowers in her lap.

 

“I like your bonnet,” Andrew watched as Barbara untied it and put it to one side, “It suits you.”

 

“Thank you,” she looked at Lilith and stroked back some hair from the child’s face, before looking up at Andrew, “This is such a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

 

“It couldn’t be more perfect.” he agreed and his eyes twinkled at her, “You make it perfect, Barbara, by being here.   Doesn’t she, Lilith?”

 

“Yes.” the child nodded, looked at her and smiled again.

 

Barbara couldn’t help but smile down at the child and turned her attention to opening the basket and pulling out the food.  She smiled at Andrew, and then blushed when she realised that he hadn’t take his eyes from her face since they had sat down.

 

“Is there something wrong?” she asked with the cake poised half way to the ground in her hands, “Is there a smudge on my nose?”

 

“Not at all,” he replied and leaned forward to look more closely,  then looked into her eyes very intently, “Barbara, do you think we could just enjoy our picnic without bringing Adam along?”

 

“Wha -?” she gulped and looked more flustered, the cake hit the ground and broke in half, “Oh, I’m sorry.” she exclaimed in dismay, “What a mess.”

 

“We’ll still enjoy eating it, and the ants can have the crumbs.” Andrew laughed, “I’m sorry too, Barbara, I shouldn’t have said that, it was - well - it was unkind of me.”

 

“No, “ she sighed, “It was honest of you, Andrew.  I guess it’s because of -”

 

“You love him very much?” Andrew asked, a frown crinkled his brow.

 

“Yes, I do love him.” she replied firmly, and she pressed her lips together and stared at the stream as it continued to burble on over the stones, Lilith had gone to paddle there, wriggling her toes and laughing happily, “I can’t help but love him.”

 

“Does it worry you then, being here, with me?”  he reached out a hand and folded it over hers, his fingers slowly entwined within her own.    The fact that she didn’t pull her hand free but just sat there with a faraway look on her face brought a sigh to his lips and he pulled his hand away.

 

“I was wishing it would have rained today,” she said simply, bringing out of the basket the pie and setting it down upon its plate on the ground, squashing several daisies and a butter cup in the process.

 

“Oh, did you?  I wished for a perfect day -” he smiled impishly and was pleased to see the quick smile light up her face, “You know, you should smile more often, you look beautiful when you smile.”

 

“That’s what Adam says,” she replied, “I’m sorry, that was tactless of me.”

 

“No,  it’s true, I’m sure other men have said it as well -”

 

Barbara blushed and shook her head, perhaps they had, she couldn’t remember now.  She looked at Andrew and realised that she really liked what she could see, the clear honest eyes, golden tanned skin with some freckles over the nose, a firm mouth and good strong jaw line.   She looked into the basket and brought out some more food, some cordial and set them down

 

“I wanted it to rain so that I could avoid seeing you and then not having to think about the consequences.” she spoke all in a rush, without looking at him.

 

“What consequences were you afraid of?”

 

“My conscience for one thing.”

 

“I can understand that, but as I said once before, you aren’t actually engaged to Adam are you?”

 

“Andrew,  I just - when I said - you see -” she stammered,  she was acting like a silly kid and she was feeling stupid, embarrassed.  “I said I loved Adam.   I do, very much.”

 

“Go on,” he prompted gently.

 

“I can’t explain it very well.   I wish there were a book I could refer to explain my feelings, perhaps it’s because my feelings are so mixed up just now, perhaps if he were actually here -”

 

“He’d beat me up?  Call me out and shoot me in a duel?   I hear tell  he did that once for a lady he cared about, fought a duel for her?”

 

“Yes, but she died and -” she shook her head, “that’s beside the point.  No, I don’t think he would do either of those things with you, Andrew.  He’s not like that - not really.   You’re not like the man who was chasing after Sue Ellen either.”

 

“I got to hear that she wasn’t the same kind of girl as you.” he turned to observe his daughter who was holding up her skirts clear of the water now and splashing her toes back and forth, “Don’t get too wet, honey.” he called after her.

 

“I won’t, Pa.” her shrill voice carried back to them.

 

“Barbara,” he turned back to her, “Try and forget about Adam just for this afternoon.   He hasn’t got his brand on you yet, you know?  You say you love him, but you’re still here, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes.  And I know that if it had rained today, then there would have been another day, when the sun shone, and you’d have asked me and I would have come.”

 

“You do like me then?” he grinned, his eyes twinkled mischievously.

 

“That’s the problem, I do like you, I like you very much.”

 

“Not as much as Adam?”

 

“Differently.” she replied honestly, “Differently -” her voice faded into a whisper.

 

“Well, I’m not a hero like he is, I’ve never won medals, or done some of the things he has done, I’m just a simple rancher, honest, hardworking, willing to do my bit and more if necessary.   I’m loyal and -”

 

“Please don’t, Andrew.” she placed her hand over his and looked into his face, and smiled, “I don’t need you to tell me all your qualities, I can see them for myself.  That’s why I’m here.”

 

“Daddy, look what I found -”  Lilith shrieked just as Barbara felt that she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer, “Momma,  look see - I mean -”  the childs’ face crumpled, then she rallied and turned from them to look into the water for more treasures.

 

“She misses her mother a lot, doesn’t she?”

 

“Yes,  she cries out for her sometimes.”

 

“I’m not like her mother though, am I?”

 

“Not in looks or colouring.   Some of her ways -” Andrew replied, “But, Barbara, I’m not showing an interest in you because Lilith likes you, or because she sees  you as some  kind of mother figure.  I - I just can’t stop liking you.   I can’t stop caring about you and worrying about you.”

 

“Worrying about me?  I don’t understand?  Why should you be worried about me?”

 

He shook his head, and was about to take hold of her hand again when Lilith ran  up to them,  threw herself down beside him and smiled at Barbara.

 

“Are we going to have a real nice picnic now?” she asked.

 

“Yes, Lilith, that’s just what we’re going to have now.” Barbara replied firmly, “A real nice picnic.”

 

………………………………............

 

“Daniel, I think it’s time for you to go now.”

 

O’Brien looked at his friend in amazement, and shook his head,

 

“No,  that’s not what we agreed, Adam, we started this adventure together, and we’ll finish it together. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

 

Adam shook his head, he approached the window and looked out to the quayside.  A group of men were getting closer to the Ainola, one was looking directly at the window of the Captain’s cabin.  Adam ran his tongue over the edge of his teeth and then bit his bottom lip, he recognised that face alright, the face of the man who had tried to kill them at the way station so many months ago.

 

“I don’t think our friends have come for afternoon tea and a chat, Daniel.  I think you would be better  off out of here.”

 

“I told you, Adam, I’m not leaving here.”  he leaned towards Adam,  and stared hard into the other man’s face, “I can’t leave  you facing Pelman on your own.”

 

Adam clenched his fists, and then opened the cabin door,

 

“Duke -  here, please.”

 

The Sergeant of Marines strode into the cabin with two of his men and looked at the Captain, saluted, and then awaited his orders.

 

“Take Mr O’Brien to his cabin, stand guard over it and don’t let him out of there until the suns over the yard arm.”

 

“Eh?  Oh, yes, Captain.”  he turned to O’Brien, “Captain’s orders, sir.  You had best come with me.”

 

“Certainly not,” O’Brien cried and stepped back.

 

“Come on, sir.”  Duke frowned, and then looked at Adam who inclined his head and walked out of the cabin.

 

It was hard to walk away like that.   Hard to leave his friend who only wanted to stand by and prove his loyalty to him as a friend, and as a patriot for his country.   The quarter deck was clear, empty.   Some of the men who would remain as a skeleton crew on board ship were getting on with their duties and he walked to the side of the ship and looked down.   He could see the six men turning towards the gangplank now. 

 

“Adam?”

 

He half turned his head, saw O’Brien being manually pulled along  by Duke’s men, one of whom was rubbing his jaw.  He gave a half smile, a wink.  O’Brien wasn’t mollified,  he broke free but was instantly chivvied back into line and down to the area where his quarters were, and where two Marines stood posted by the door.

 

Adam turned and watched as the man in front of the other five ascended the gang plank, and was then standing on the deck.   The other men stood  close behind him.

 

“Well,  now -”  he approached Adam, looked him  up and down ,  “How nice you look in your uniform, Mr Cartwright.  A real neat sailor boy.  A bit different from when we last met, huh?”

 

“What do you want on board my ship?”  Adam replied coldly.

 

He could hear the sound of Duke’s footsteps close behind him.  He didn’t have to turn to know that there were a number of Marines closing rank behind Duke.  He just hoped that O’Brien would remain calm and stay where he had been placed.

 

“Commodore Pelman asked me to escort you to his office, Mr Cartwright.”

 

“I fully intend seeing Commodore Pelman.   In my own time and of my own choosing.”

 

“Oh no, I don’t think so.   I was told by the Commodore that if you didn’t come right now,  then you will have to face a court martial for insubordination.”

 

“You can’t enforce that, you’re a civilian.”

 

“Acting under Commodore Pelman’s orders.    Come along,  sir,  and bring along those little items that the Commodore was expecting.”

 

Duke now stepped up towards Adam, saluted and then turned to face the intruders, for such was how he viewed them

 

“Do you  wish us to throw this mangy lot over board, Captain?”

 

“No,”  Adam sighed heavily, “Keep O’Brien on board ship, Duke.”

 

“I will, sir.”

 

“Thank you for everything.”

 

“My pleasure, Captain.”

 

They shook hands, and then Duke stepped back, saluted, and watched as his Captain stepped onto the gangplank and left the Ainola

 

 

Chapter 77

 

A sombre gentleman, who looked familiar to Adam but whose face he couldn’t place, passed them as they walked along the quayside.  He glanced at Adam furtively as they passed, but said nothing, although he appeared to be known to the spokesman of the group for some indication of their acquaintance was apparent even though neither paused in their stride.     Adam glanced over his shoulder to see the man begin to mount the gang plank.

 

“Move on,”  and a push in the shoulder.   Adam did as he was told and ‘moved on’.

 

O’Brien paced the cabin, he was both frustrated and angered by Adam’s action.  He knew that Adam had acted on  his behalf, but that didn’t ease his mind.  He felt angry at the thought that at the very last minute Adam had betrayed him, had left him behind to kick his heels.   He slammed his fist into the wall, and then kicked at a bucket that was close by.

 

“There’s no point in you doing that, sir.  The Captain gave his orders for your own good.” Duke said quietly, peering down at him from the top of the ladder that descended into the cabin from the deck.

 

“What do you know about it.” O’Brien growled.

 

“Well, true enough, I don’t know much about all the secret business you’ve got yourself entangled in, but I know enough to appreciate the fact that the Captain kept you here for a good reason.”

 

“For my own good -” O’Brien hissed.

 

“That and -” Duke descended into the cabin “And perhaps for his too.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, don’t you think that little party that come on board were a mite heavy handed in the way they dealt with our Captain?  They ain’t taking him off for a social do, are they?   I reckon that the Captain knows he’s heading for some trouble.  A bird in the hand -” he tapped his nose and winked.

 

“What are you -?” O’Brien paused, he looked into the man’s eyes, and inhaled sharply.  “He’ll need our help?”

 

“I think so.”  Duke nodded and came down several more steps, “And another thing - there’s a weasel of a man just come on board and gone into the Captain’s cabin.   Could be you may be able to find out why?” he raised his eyebrows (very expressive eyebrows ) significantly.

 

O’Brien nodded and adjusted his jacket, smoothed back his hair, which had got a little ruffled , and ascended the ladder to the upper deck.

 

He approached the cabin very quietly, behind him Duke and two Marines crowded in the companionway.    From the cabin came the non-subtle sounds of books being pulled from shelves, drawers opening and papers rustling.  Someone was obviously giving the cabin a thorough search and not bothered about keeping the place tidy as he did so.

 

“Is there anything in particular for which you are looking?”

 

The sounds stopped, like a trapped rat the other man turned, his eyes widened and his mouth went slack.  Then he straightened himself and squared his shoulders,

 

“Lieutenant O’Brien?”

 

“Correct.”  O’Brien frowned slightly and entered further into the room, “You’re Commodore Pelman’s secretary, aren’t you?”

 

“Jonas Thaler,”  he adjusted the lapel of his jacket and then turned towards the desk, “I’m looking for some documents.   You wouldn’t know where they are, would you?”

 

“If  they are documents that Commodore Pelman requires then I assume the Captain has them in his possession.   Searching through his personal belongings  is an insult to his integrity.  You have no right to be here, Mr Thaler.”

 

“Do you know what Commodore Pelman thinks of your Captain?”  Thaler said, glancing over his shoulder at O’Brien as he pulled another book from the shelf and shook it, “He says he is a maverick.  You do know what a maverick is, don’t you?” 

 

“I’ve heard the expression,” O’Brien replied in a haughty manner.

 

“Mmm,”  a loose page drifted from the book and fluttered to the floor, Thaler pounced on it, then after quickly scanning it tossed it to one side,  “Mavericks like to go their own way, they’re unpredictable, unsafe.  The Commodore doesn’t trust Captain Cartwright to bring those papers to him.”

 

“There’s no reason for the Commodore to distrust the Captain.   Although when the Captain returns I think he will have every reason to distrust the Commodore.”

 

“Oh don’t have your hopes raised on that score -”  the wretched little man shrugged his shoulders with contempt and pulled out a thick book which received the same treatment as the previous one.

 

“What do you mean by that?” O’Brien stepped into the centre of the cabin and snatched the book from Thaler’s grasp, “If any harm comes to the Captain -”

 

“You should be careful, Lieutenant.  You are an officer of the United States Navy, are you not?  You take orders from your superiors and let me remind you that in this instance, your superior is Commodore Pelman.   It would be sad for you if your career came to a -” he sighed, “dishonourable end because of your association with a man like Captain Cartwright.”

 

O’Brien stepped back, his face paled a little as the significance of the remark sunk in, and he opened his mouth to speak but no word came out.   Thaler smiled, shrugged and pulled the book out of O’Brien’s hand.

 

“Now, if you don’t mind, I need to continue with my work.”

 

“No,  I think you have done enough damage and seen enough for now, sir.  Sargeant Day,  escort this man from the Ainola at once, please.”

 

He stepped back for  Duke to advance and stand threateningly by Thaler’s side.  The secretary shrugged and grimaced, turned to pick up some papers he had found of some interest but which O’Brien knew were of no importance, and walked from the cabin without further word.

 

….…………..

 

Pete spat a stream of tobacco into the dust, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before turning to the man and boy standing next to the stage coach.  He frowned,  and pulled his hat lower over his eyes,

 

“You cut it pretty close, Mister, we’ll be leaving in jest five minutes for Virginia City.  You got yer ticket?”

 

“Here -” Jamieson handed the tickets over and Pete gave them both a quick glance over, “Is it far? I mean, how long will it take us?”

 

“Oh, it’s over two hundred miles to Virginia City, mister.   Jest you get on inside and settled in with your boy.    You got any luggage?”

 

Jamieson passed what personal possessions he and William had been able to stow into a typical sailor’s canvas bag, which Pete tossed up on top of the  coach along with the boxes and bags belonging to the other passengers.  Then he stepped aside to  let them board the vehicle.  

 

“That was close,” William released his breath, excitement was beginning to bubble inside him making his stomach jittery, “good thing you knew how to get to the depot, Mr Jamieson.”

 

“Yes,” Jamieson nodded, “Although to be honest it was more by luck than judgement.  Pity you didn’t get anything to eat.  Are you hungry, William?”

 

“I am a bit, sir, but it hardly matters, I’m used to it, and we haven’t exactly been living high on the hog lately, have we?”

 

Jamieson was about to reply when the other passengers began to clamber on board.  A rather fat woman who decided it would be advantageous to sit next to William,  a dusty cow hand who chewed tobacco relentlessly who sat next to Jamieson,  a young woman who wasn’t sure where to sit but squeezed in beside the cow hand.   Jamieson looked keenly at William and winked.

 

William smiled and nodded.  They had already agreed that as soon as they were in the company of strangers they would fall back on the subterfuge of being father and son.  Mr Jackson and Master William Jackson en route to visit friends in Virginia City.   Now there would be no more talk of the Ainola, her Captain, or any of their past companions.  William could barely contain his excitement, his hands clenched and unclenched.  He had never been on a stage coach before, and the thought of actually meeting the Captain’s family made the whole thing even more thrilling.

 

The crack of the whip overhead made him jump, he had been so engrossed in his own thoughts.   The stage rolled back, lurched forward, and then the horses were off.  The fat woman seemed to spread out over the seat, slightly overlapping onto William who moved up slightly, only to find she seemed to flow over the spot he had vacated and that he was now firmly wedged into the corner.   She began to ferret around in her purse and produced a bag of candy which she rummaged about in before finding one  that she popped into her mouth.  She offered the bag to William who dipped a hand in and found a piece of toffee.  The other passengers declined.

 

“Going far?”  the cowhand asked no one in particular.

 

“Virginia City,” the fat woman replied, “I’m visiting a cousin there.”

 

“I’m stopping off at the first way station, got me a job  at the Faraday ranch.  Heard of it, have ya?”

 

They all shook their heads.  The young lady leaned forward,

 

“I’m  going  to Virginia City too.” she smiled, hugged her purse closer to her body, “I’m going to get work there as a seamstress.”

 

All eyes turned to Jamieson, who cleared his throat,

 

“My son and I are going to Virginia City as well, we’re visiting friends.”

 

“Oh, anyone we know?” the fat woman asked.

 

“I doubt it.” Jamieson replied, and turned to look out of the window.

 

William chewed on the toffee, a real good piece of old lockjaw.  He thought how much smoother a ship moved across the sea than this old bone shaker of a stage coach.   He looked up and saw the young lady smiling at him.    He would have smiled back if the toffee hadn’t melded his teeth together, so he raised his eyebrows at her and nodded which seemed to do very nicely instead.

 

……………………………

 

Herbert James led the way through the corridors to where the Commodore’s office was situated.   He looked at Adam, before pushing open the door and entering, then he turned to Adam and jerked his head indicating that he could enter as well.  Adam removed his hat, and stepped into the empty office.

 

He was about to speak when a door at the far end opened and Pelman stepped into the room with a thick folder under his arm.  He looked at Adam, scowled and then looked at Herbert James.

 

“Where’s the woman?”

 

“There wasn’t any woman on board ship, sir.”

 

“There wasn’t?”  Pelman seemed to swell with indignation and then looked again at Adam.   He nodded, “Well, good day to you, Captain.   Please advance and take a seat.”

 

Adam did so, he heard the door close behind him.  Pelman and he were ostensibly the only people now in the room.   Adam wondered when the secretary would emerge and at the thought of this person, he recalled where he had seen the sombre looking gentleman who had passed them on the quayside earlier.  He pursed his lips and frowned slightly as he wondered what the man would have been doing there.

 

“Well, Captain Cartwright.   Returned from your assignment safely I see.   Did you find it interesting?”

 

“I lost a number of men - good men.” Adam replied.

 

“It happens though, doesn’t it?” Pelman made a gesture with his hands to indicate that such news didn’t matter at present.  “Where’s the woman.”

 

“If you are referring to Irena Pestchouroff,  she’s dead.”

 

“Dead?” Pelman’s lips tightened, and he chewed his bottom lip for a second as he surveyed the other man thoughtfully, “What happened?”

 

“A man called Alexei Lebedev killed her.  I don’t know how -”

 

“Before or after she gave you the papers?” he glanced up when Adam didn’t reply, “She did give you some documents, didn’t she?”

 

“She did.”  Adam nodded.

 

Pelman stretched out his hand, but when Adam didn’t move he glanced up from writing something down to observe the other man with yet another scowl,

 

“Well?  Where are they?”  he snapped.

 

“I don’t know,” Adam sighed, and shook his head, “I was injured, unwell.   Things happened on board ship -”  he shrugged slightly, “Some of my crew seemed anxious to get their hands on the papers as well.”

 

Pelman stared at him, narrowed his eyes, unable to believe what he was hearing but unable to disprove it.   He turned the pen round and round between his fingers as he stared at Adam, who remained perfectly calm and his eyes firmly fixed to a point just above Pelman’s head.

 

…………………………

 

Lilith tossed the ball into the air and laughed when Andrew failed to catch it.  Barbara ran after  it as it spun towards the stream,

 

“Run, Miss Scott, hurry before daddy gets it.”

 

Her fingers closed around it and she laughed, and then Andrew’s fingers closed around her hand.  They looked at one another, eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed, laughing.   It seemed to Barbara as though she were suddenly caught up in a kaleidoscope, that shifted colours and shapes and then settled into a regular and beautiful pattern.  They stood up, disentangled their hands and separated, but it had happened, things were all right now,  she was no longer confused nor worried.

 

She tossed the ball over to Lilith who chased after it as fast as her legs could carry her,  and she watched as Andrew ran, his long legs reaching out, stride after stride, until he was nearly caught up with the child.  He reached down and clasped her around the waist and spun her high.   Barbara laughed,  her own voice surprised her as she heard herself shouting,

 

“Run, Lilith, run… don’t let him get the ball.”  and laughing as he grabbed the ball she cried, “Oh Andrew, you cheat.”

 

“Cheat, daddy.” Lilith cried and jumped up at him to catch the  ball.

 

He laughed then, and tossed the ball in Barbara’s direction.   It was easy to catch and dropped into her hand as lightly as could be,  but she saw the way he was looking at her,  the way his eyes sparkled and his mouth opened in a wide generous smile.

 

‘I shall grow old watching him smile like that…” she thought to her self and tossed the ball  into the air.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 78

 

The silence in the big room settled around the two men like a shroud.   Eventually Pelman stood up, and walked around the desk, leaned against it and folded his arms across his ample chest,

 

“Perhaps, if you told me what happened - who is this Lebedev?   Who else wanted the papers?

 

Adam pursed his lips thoughtfully, then drew in his breath and recited the events of all that had happened.  He watched Pelman closely as he told him about getting to Alaska and the meeting with Irena.   He didn’t notice any indication upon the bland features of his superior that there was anything in what he was saying that meant more to him than any other report being relayed by another officer.

 

It was only when he mentioned the attack by Lebedev and the deaths of Rostov and Jack Lawson that a slight change occurred,  Pelman went slightly paler,  and his eyes narrowed, for a few seconds he struggled to return the blank disinterested features he had possessed earlier.

 

“I’ve got this all written down in the log,” Adam said quietly, “it’s all on record.”

 

“And you had the documents on you all the time?”

 

“Yes, all the time.”

 

“Did you see them?  I mean, did you read them?”

 

Adam gave a mere lift of the shoulders, and raised one eyebrow

 

“I don’t read Russian.”

 

“But Lawson -”  Pelman paused, it was an error, they both recognised it as such, but neither commented.  “Continue with your narrative, Captain?”

 

Adam did so, his eyes never strayed from Pelman’s face.   He told him about the attack by the Russian ship, and the man actually broke out in beads of perspiration

 

“I told you not to open fire -”

 

“I know what you told me.  I had my men to protect, my ship to get back and those documents to return.  However, I give you my promise that we did not open fire on them,  they were overturned by a glacier breaking up and calving into the sea and it takes quite a ship to be able to withstand the ice mass that fell upon that one.  She careened over, and most of her crew died as a result.   Some of my men, good men, died also when the wave shock hit the Ainola.”

 

Pelman walked up and down for a moment or two, he struck his head with his clenched fist as though to nail inside his brain the information, the repercussions of what happened,  what could happen.

 

“The Russians could twist this, accuse us -”

 

“They won’t.” Adam replied and watched Pelman as the man returned to his desk and sunk wearily into the chair.

 

“There was a man on board the Ainola, Jeffrey Metcalfe?” Pelman looked down at the papers, fingered through them and then glanced up, “Well?  Jeffrey Metcalfe - you knew him?”

 

“No.”

 

“But you must have done?”

 

“I knew a man called Hugh Williamson.  He was the ship’s doctor.   Turned out he claimed that his real name was Jeffrey Metcalfe.  He seemed mighty eager to get his hands on those document of yours.”

 

Pelman frowned,  he stared at Adam and then licked his lips.

 

“Hugh Williamson, did you say?”

 

“Correct.”  Adam leaned back into the chair, he wondered how long the charade was going to go on for when the back door opened and the man who had passed him on the quayside entered, glanced at Adam, placed some documents on the desk and left the room.  

 

Pelman flicked through the papers,  nervously rubbed his chin, and then looked again at Adam.

 

“Jack Lawson’s dead?   He was the son of a good friend of mine.”

 

“I’m sorry about that -” Adam murmured, “He died bravely.  I’m sure your friend would have been proud of him.”

 

“Did he see the papers?”

 

“Was there any reason why he should?”

 

They stared at one another.  It was Pelman who lowered his eyes and  once again leafed through the papers.  He picked up the top sheet and read the note the secretary had put there, he then looked  up at Adam

 

“Mr Thaler says your second in command, Mr O’Brien, prevented him from carrying out his duties.”

 

“Really?   What were his duties exactly, sir?”

 

“He - I -”  Pelman frowned, “I anticipated that you may have forgotten to bring the log with you.  I sent him to get it.”

 

“Oh, I see.   Well,  Mr O’Brien would certainly not have objected to Mr Thaler having the Log.  Perhaps your secretary didn’t ask him in a polite enough manner.  There is a procedure about these things, of which you must be aware.   Mr O’Brien did nothing wrong in preventing Mr Thaler from taking papers from my cabin, private papers, which I see he managed to retain anyway.”

 

Pelman’s Adam’s apple jerked above the white cravat, and he blinked.

 

“This is getting us nowhere, Captain.  If you would just hand over the documents.”

 

“I can’t.  I haven’t got them.”

 

“So you said, but I’m sure that, knowing you were coming here, as per  your orders, you would have them with you.”

 

“I am obeying orders, sir.  I have not got them.”

 

“Where are they?” Pelman hissed through clenched teeth.

 

“At this precise moment - I don’t know.” Adam shook his head, shrugged and crossed one leg over the other.

 

“My orders were -”

 

“Commodore Pelman,  I had orders from someone who out ranks you.  I’m sorry, but it was his orders I had to obey, not yours.”

 

“Those papers -”  Pelman went a slightly reddish hue, he loosened his cravat, licked his lips, “I need those papers, Captain.   You have to tell me where they are -” he looked at Adam,  who said nothing,  “You don’t understand.  I HAVE to have those papers.  Those documents are vital to this country.”

 

“Hmmm,  well, I can’t help you.”  Adam rose to his feet, “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to return to my ship.”

 

“No,” Pelman stretched out a hand, “No,  you stay right there, Captain.”

 

“Am I under arrest?”

 

“No, no -”  Pelman rubbed his face with a large hand, then looked at Adam furtively, like a man frightened to let his enemy out of his sight but aware that he couldn’t keep him standing there forever.  He once again licked his lips, a wet tongue flicked over his dry lips and he forced a smile, “I think we should have some refreshments and talk over your adventures a little more.   Come, Captain, don’t look so stiff and formal.”  he stood up and extended his hand, rang a bell on the desk,  and waited for the door to open.

 

Thaler entered, listened to the whispers of the Commodore while his eyes flicked over to wards Adam who appeared to be impervious to what was happening.   It was, Adam mused, curious to see how people reacted when they feared their careers, reputations were at stake.  He wondered how far Pelman was prepared to go with the whole crazy charade.

 

“If you will excuse me a moment, Captain.  My secretary, Mr Thaler, will take you to my reception room.  There are several officers there I invited earlier, I am sure they will be more than pleased to meet with you.  I shall be along shortly as I have someone else to see at this point in time.”

 

Adam bowed politely, and followed Thaler from the office.  ’What’ he wondered, ’was the old fox up to now?’

 

 ....................

 

As the door closed behind Adam and Thaler, the other door opened and Pelman turned to face the new comer with a smile

 

"Has he the documents?"

 

"No, or if he has, he isn't prepared to hand them over.  He says he doesn't know where they are." Pelman frowned, "I'm inclined to believe him."

 

"Do you think Metcalfe may have them or Jack Lawson?"

 

"Jack Lawson died and as for Metcalfe -" Pelman shook his head, "We've got to get those papers otherwise-"

 

"You don't have to tell me, Commodore, I'm well aware of what will happen.  Do you have any ideas of how we can find them?"

 

"Yes, one or two -" Pelman smiled suddenly, as though a light had suddenly switched on inside his head, "Yes, but we'll need to be careful."

 

 

Chapter 79

 

Jonas Thaler opened the door to a more ornate room than any Adam had seen previously.  Several officers, ranking from Lieutenant to Commodore were present.  Several were engrossed in conversation by the window overlooking the main street leading off to the harbour.   From a quick glance through the window Adam could see the Ainola berthed at the quayside.  She looked like a toy, a miniature which he could have leaned towards and taken into his hand.

 

“Adam Cartwright?”

 

A familiar voice behind him, he turned and smiled.

 

“Jenkins?”

 

The other man laughed, and extended his hand which Adam shook without rancour, even though he had some unpleasant memories of the man.  His nemesis on board the Ainola all those years ago when it was under the command of Captain Greaves.  Jenkins had been of inferior rank to Adam then, but had succeeded to claw his way to  a Captaincy.

 

“I heard you were Captain of the Ainola?”  Jenkins handed Adam a cup of coffee, hot and dark.  “Just returned from a trip to the north I believe.   Quite cold up there at this time of year, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes, you could say that …” Adam replied warily, and accepted the cup with a bland smile.

 

“Captain Cartwright?”  a rather commanding figure approached with a smile and extended hand, “You may have forgotten me but I certainly haven’t forgotten you.”

 

‘Goodness’ Adam thought to himself as he presented his hand to the Commodore, ‘I seem to be very popular hereabouts!’

 

“No, sir, I have not forgotten you.  Congratulations on your appointment.  I read that you had been made up to Commodore last year.”

 

“Thank you.”  Commodore Jefferson turned to another Officer standing beside him, “Let me introduce you to Captain Hancock and -”  he gestured to a tall handsome man sprawled on a gold sateen settee, “Lieutenant Mayhew.”

 

Adam shook hands with one and nodded over to the other who seemed disinclined to exert himself other than to raise a hand.  

 

“So, Captain Cartwright, I hear you have just returned from an interesting trip up north?   Looking into our new found acquisition, have you?”  Hancock smiled pleasantly,  before taking another sip of the coffee.

 

‘Well, not only am I very popular but it seems everyone knows my business around here also,’  Adam mused although he kept his smile fixed to his face.   He agreed that yes, he had been ‘up north’.

 

“Cold up there, this time of year.” Mayhew muttered, and frowned.   He was obviously not a cold season person.

 

“Very cold.” Adam agreed.

 

“And did you find it lived to expectation?” Hancock asked, “or was it just full of seals and whales and ice?”

 

“Mostly seals, whales and ice, sir.”  Adam turned slightly to glance out of the window. 

 

There was little traffic on the roads, the quayside was thronging with seamen, some returning to their ships, others leaving, there were men loading cargo onto the ships, and small boats, tugs, milling near by.    A cab was trawling its way along the harbour, creeping around obstacles and heading towards the furthest berthed ship … The Ainola.

 

……………………..

 

Daniel O’Brien was talking to one of the seamen that was still working on board the ship when he heard his name being called by Sergeant Day,

 

“Visitor on board ship, sir.”

 

“Very well, I’ll be there in a moment -”

 

“Specially asked to see you, sir.”

 

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

 

“A - er - lady, sir.”  and there was a slight chuckle in his voice as he spoke.

 

O’Brien frowned,  turned and hurried to the ladder to mount up to the main deck.  Of all people he had never expected to see her standing there in front of him.   When she turned to face him his heart just stopped, somersaulted, and then resumed beating but at a much faster rate.  He took several steps towards her but even before that she was running towards him, her arms outstretched

 

“Oh Daniel, Daniel.”

 

He lifted her off her feet and swung her around, kissed her mouth and her nose, then held her at arms length to make sure it was really her,

 

“I can’t believe it.  What are you doing here?”

 

“Oh my dearest dearest Daniel.” she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close, “I’ve been here a whole week in a hotel.  I couldn’t bear being home without you, my darling.  I was so lonely. I thought I would come and stay here until you arrived back.   I couldn’t have been more happy than I was when I saw the Ainola in the harbour.”

 

“Oh Maria, you can’t imagine how glad -” his eyes filled with tears, he laughed, kissed her again and again, “It seems as though I haven’t seen you for so long.”

 

“That’s what I thought too.  I couldn’t bear to be away from you any more time that was necessary.”  she stepped back then and looked at him thoughtfully, then her face changed, her eyes became concerned and she put a hand to his cheek, “Darling,  have you been ill?   You don’t look  at all well.  You’ve lost weight -”

 

He caught hold of her hand on his own, kissed her fingers,

 

“I’m much better now,” he said quietly, “We had rather a rough time of it.  Lost some good friends, good men.”

 

“I am sorry.”  she frowned, “Can you leave the ship now and come back with me.   I have a suite of rooms  there and promise you that I shall take good care of you.”  she smiled, leaned towards him and kissed him.

 

“I can’t leave ship until the Captain gives me permission.”

 

“Oh.” she pouted. “The Captain?  Where is the Captain?  I shall go and ask him, beg him, to let you come with me now.”

 

“He’s not on board ship just now.  He’s had to report to the Commodore.” 

 

“Oh -” she pouted again, and sighed.  “Daniel, where can we go then? I have so much to tell you, to talk to you about.”

 

“Come with me then -” he took her hand and led her into the cabin that he usually shared with the other officers.

 

“How small and crowded it is here,” she murmured, “The ceiling is low,  look, even I have to bend down a little” she laughed and turned to him.

 

She was so lovely, this bewitching young woman.  Daniel remembered the evenings he had fallen asleep dreaming about her, longing for her.   He would dream about her too,  when he was at his loneliest, and during his illness the fever had brought with it images of her face, her voice and now - here she was, his beautiful wife.

 

“My darling, darling girl -” he cried in a low sigh of voice and he caught her up in his arms.

 

………………………

 

Lilith was asleep when they drew up at the Pearson’s house.  She had fallen asleep in Barbara’s arms so that the child had to be lowered down carefully so that Andrew could take her and carry her back to the house.

 

“Are you coming in?” he asked in a soft voice in order not to wake the child.

 

“Not this time, Andrew.”  she smiled, “I have a lot to do at home.   I shall see you  tomorrow.”

 

“Yes,  that’s good.” he raised a hand and watched as she turned the buggy round and slowly took the track towards the main road to Virginia City.

 

He stood there some while with one hand resting on the child’s back, then he turned and walked to his home.   He smiled at the memory of the day, it had been one of those special days that he knew he would keep in his mind until he died.

 

Barbara Scott found herself humming a little tune beneath her breath as the horse trotted along the road, the buggy bounced over stones and the uneven surface but she didn’t seem to notice.   She felt as though she had found the other part of herself.  

 

There were still some books to mark up, and supper to prepare for when Peggy came home.   She wouldn’t think about Adam,  not one little thought, because when she did, odd feelings disrupted  her peace of mind.  She had made her decision now, and did not want any odd feelings creeping into her heart to push her into changing her mind now.

 

………………………

 

Jenkins was talking, telling Adam about the latest voyage he had been on and how he had had to tighten up on discipline.  There was, he maintained, too much laxity on board the ships nowadays.    Didn’t Adam agree?

 

Commodore Pelman had entered a few minutes earlier.   After standing to observe the men in the room he approached Adam with a smile,

 

“Captain Cartwright, if I may interrupt?”

 

Jenkins acknowledged the Commodore with a slight bow of the head and retreated a few paces while Pelman came closer to Adam.    There was a slight look pass between them, between Pelman and Jenkins, that Adam picked  up but couldn’t interpret.  He turned to look at the other men, but they were now all engaged in conversation and even Mayhew had stirred himself sufficiently to get to his feet to talk to Jenkins.

 

“Adam, let us put our differences to one side, shall we?  Come with me, I have something I need to show you.”

 

He put his hand on Adam’s elbow gently, and with his other hand indicated the door.  Adam put down the cup and saucer upon the table, and followed his host to the door.  The door closed and he was led in semi-darkness down the corridor towards another door.  Pelman opened it, pushed it wide and stepped aside with a smile,

 

“After you, Adam.” 

 

Perhaps he had expected something of the kind to happen, perhaps he should have stepped back and retreated.   But, fatally, he did not -  there was a hand pushing him in the small of the back, steps beneath his feet, he stumbled forward, put out a hand to protect himself and then something heavy fell upon the back of his head,  or was it that he had fallen heavily upon something.  He didn’t know.  He was unable to know.  There was just that heart stopping pain and then nothing at all.

 

Thaler stepped up to the door and closed it, turned the key which he passed to Pelman

 

“Rather drastic, but in the circumstances there was nothing else I could do -” Pelman muttered.

 

“Are you going to keep him there until afterwards or what?”

 

“I don’t know.  There’s too much I don’t know about what’s going on, Jonas.  Who gave him orders above my head?   And the documents - where are they?”

 

“Do you want me to go back to the ship and search the cabin?”

 

“Later.”  Pelman rubbed his jaw, “Later,” he muttered and turned back towards where his guests were gathered.

 

Chapter 80

 

Sergeant Duke Day stood on the deck with his hands behind his back, rocking too and fro on the  heels of his boots and whistling.   It wasn’t often that a touch of romance graced the decks of a ship, and it softened his crusty old heart to know that the Lieutenant and his wife were enjoying some private moments below decks.

 

When anyone approached he shoo-shoo’d them away and then watched them scuttle off,  with backward glances, wondering if the Sergeant had taken leave of his senses.  After a some while he went to the galley where the cook was preparing the meal for later and made a request that made the cook’s eyes pop open, but after explaining what was happening he set to with a will and it wasn’t long before Duke was tapping on O’Brien’s cabin door bearing a tray with a bottle of wine and two glasses upon it.

 

It was O’Brien who opened the door and when he saw Duke he blushed just a little and hurriedly raked through his hair with his fingers.   Duke just winked and passed over the tray.  Then the door was closed and O’Brien turned to his wife and smiled,

 

“I think our Sergeant at Arms has gone soft,”  he set the tray down and looked at her again as she sat there on his bunk, with her hair dishevelled and falling in long curls over her shoulders, her eyes looking so smoky and her lips - well, he didn’t want to look to long at her lips, instead he poured out the wine and carried a glass to  her, “I wish Adam were here, I’d like you to meet him.”

 

“Your Captain?”  she sipped the glass, gave a smile of satisfaction, “This is good wine.  Someone knows what good wine is, so not all seamen are barbarians it seems.”

 

“I should imagine it came out of the Captain’s private store.”  O’Brien adjusted his cravat and pulled on his jacket before he sat down beside her, held her hand in his and sipped from the glass, “Adam won’t begrudge it though, he’s a generous friend.”

 

“You’re very fond of him, aren’t you, Daniel?”

 

“Yes, I am.”  he replied and dropped a kiss on the back of her neck as she began to recoil her hair into some semblance of order.  “He’s different from a lot of men I’ve known.  I suppose that happens with the background he’s got.”

 

“You always did speak of him so well.” she looked at him thoughtfully and then picked up some pins which she put into her hair, “Oh, I wish there was a decent mirror here, Daniel.  How can I see what I look like in this little thing?  It’s a wonder you can manage to shave - such a small mirror, such a tiny cabin.”  she handed him some pins, “Put these in my hair, and try and make it look tidy.” and she smiled sweetly at him, her eyes large and long lashed.  “How many shared this cabin?”

 

He pushed a pin into a curl, kissed her neck, pushed a pin somewhere else and kissed her shoulder,

 

“There was Masters, Friend, Lawson, and Thomas of course.”  he put in the last pin and then curled a lock of hair lazily around his finger, “Usually we don’t have so many in a berth, but Lawson came a bit later than -”

 

“What’s the matter?” she looked at him as he lapsed into silence for a moment.

 

“Nothing, it was just odd, that’s all.  But I suppose in view of what happened not surprising.”

 

She turned and looked at him, put a finger to his brow as though in an attempt to smooth away the furrows there.

 

“Why?”

 

“Oh, just that he died.  Jack Lawson -” he raised his eyes to meet hers and forced a smile, “I’m sorry, it brought back some memories I’d rather not have.  Some day I’ll tell you about them.”

 

“Was it the same day you were wounded?” she placed a hand upon his chest, for she had seen the wounds, and had caught her breath in a gasp of that emotion  that captures one when realising how close to death a beloved one had come.

 

“Yes.” he frowned, “The Captain also -” he paused again, his mood now sombre and pensive.

 

“What’s wrong, darling?”

 

“The Captain should have got back by now.  I - I don’t trust -” he stopped, firmed his lips, and rose to his feet.

 

“Who don’t you trust?  Daniel?”

 

“I think I’ll just check in his cabin.  Possibly he may have returned.”  he stood up, buttoned up his jacket and prepared to leave but she grabbed at his hand,

 

“Let me come with you?  I want to meet your Captain,” she smiled, “Can I?”

 

“Yes, of course.” 

 

He smiled, waited as she buttoned on her jacket, slipped on her shoes, and then caught at his hand as he mounted the ladder.

 

………………………..

 

Pelman re-read the telegram that had arrived shortly after Adam had entered the reception room and he had seen his other guest leave.  He swore violently, words that would have been tolerated only by the lowest seaman, and then he slammed his fist upon the desk. 

 

“Well?”

 

Thaler raised his eyebrows and waited for an answer.   He knew from past experience that there was little he could hope to achieve when the Commodore was in such a foul mood.  But at the same time it was understandable.  There had been no time now to wheedle and coax information from Adam Cartwright, no time to persuade him in the gentler manner, now all was haste and hurry, panic and pandemonium.  Had they had the time to think a strategy all well and good, but this telegram had put paid to all that, so Cartwright had been despatched hurriedly, and now plans had to be made in order to cover even that indiscretion.

 

“What do you think has caused him to decide to come here?”  Pelman hissed between his teeth.

 

“Perhaps -” Thaler said quietly, “Perhaps he has anticipated that the Ainola would be arriving about now.  Perhaps he is the higher authority whom Cartwright has been taking orders from …”

 

“In which case he must have suspicions as to why we would want the documents?”

 

“Oh,” Thaler shrugged, “Why go that far?   That’s anticipating too much, I doubt it.”

 

“Let’s hope you’re right.”  Pelman slumped down into his chair, “Well, you had better get things arranged for the President’s arrival.  Hotels booked, all that kind of thing.”

 

“It’s a low key visit,” Thaler reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Then use your discretion, fool, that’s what you’re being paid for.”

 

“And Cartwright?”

 

“I’ll see to him.”

 

Thaler nodded and quietly picked up some papers from the desk, and silently slipped from the room.  Pelman shuddered, there was something he quite detested about that man, but if he had but known it, Thaler was considering exactly the same thing about him.

 

………………………..

 

Adam Cartwright remained where he had fallen.   Once, twice he attempted to open his eyes.  His hand reached out for something but it was numb, without feeling.  He had seen a slit of light from some distant window that was all.   A cool draught drifted over  him but he was unaware of it.      

………………………..

 

The cabin was empty.  There was no sign now of  any disturbance and everything was now in perfect order.   Daniel looked around and shook his head, behind him Maria stepped into the room.    She also looked all around as though not sure what or who she was supposed to see there.  She looked at her husband, and took hold of his hand,

 

“Is it bad, Daniel, that he’s not here?”

 

“I had hoped that he’d be back by now.” Daniel replied, and forced a smile although his eyes remained dark with anxiety, “He didn’t take the log with him.  Probably because they came for him -”

 

“Daniel?  Is something wrong?”

 

“I don’t know.  That’s the problem really, I just don’t know.”  he turned to her and put his hands on her shoulders, gazed into her eyes, “Darling, I’ll just go and ask if anyone has seen him, and then -” he paused, “I’ll  take the log to the Commodore’s office.   It’s procedure, you see.  Adam should have taken it with him?”

 

“Shall I -?”

 

“No,” he put a finger to her lips, leaned forward and kissed her, “No, sweet, I can’t take you there.   Look, stay here and wait for me, I shan’t be long.”

 

“How long?”

 

“At most an hour and a half.” he looked at the clock ticking on the wall, “I’ll be back by 4.30 p.m.”

 

“And if you’re not?”

 

“Tell Duke, the Sergeant at Arms, tell him I’ve been delayed and that the Captain hasn’t returned, although, of course, he’d know that - just tell him, that’s all.   Wait for me, won’t you?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I know.  I love you too…” he hesitated, stroked her cheek with his forefinger and then reached out for the log which he tucked under his arm, “I’ll see you soon.”

 

……………………………

 

Adam rolled onto his back, passed a hand over his face and stared up at the ceiling of the room.  It was dark, the light from the window was fading, he saw a flight of steps leading to a door.   So that was where he had fallen, and into what appeared to be a cellar.   He attempted to stand and the pain in his head forced him to remain where he was, just, he told himself, just for a moment.  Then everything slipped away, slipped away into that darkness once again.

 

……………………

 

Barbara closed the door to her home and put her bonnet on  a peg, along with her gloves.   Her new shoes were pinching her toes after all that running about, so she hurried up the stairs to her room.   She sat at the dresser and looked at herself in the mirror,  and smiled at her reflection.

 

‘There now, that wasn’t so bad was it?   Aren’t you glad it didn’t rain?   See - how happy it all was, how perfectly happy.”

 

She smiled at her reflection and her reflection smiled back.  Her eyes sparkled,  her cheeks were pink and glowing.   The weight on her heart had been lifted.  

 

She pulled open the drawer of her dressing table and put her hand down to take from it a brooch that she wanted to wear at supper.  Peggy would be home soon,  and she glanced down  at the drawer and saw the package.  Such an innocuous package.  But she knew what was inside it,  and her hand hovered over it.   Then she closed the drawer with a force that made everything on the dresser rattle.

 

………………………..

 

Maria O’Brien was seated in the Captain’s chair before the desk.  She had opened the drawers and rummaged through each one and found nothing that was of interest to her.   She used a pin to open the lock of the top drawer, but it contained only a gunbelt of black leather, rolled neatly to fit the drawer, the holster contained a gun  She did look at it rather thoughtfully before closing the drawer again.   Everything was neat and tidy.  The blotter  was untouched.  It was as thought the owner had anticipated that he would not be returning, had, in fact, prepared for visitors who would  look through his possessions as she was doing now.

 

She went to where the ashes of the fire were, and carefully looked through them but there was nothing there that would help  her in her quest.   She looked thoughtfully about her,  looked at the books,  touched them with her fingers as she passed the shelf.

 

Nothing.  It seemed as though the room itself was conspiring against her, refusing to divulge its secrets.   Her eyes went to the desk again and she approached it, ran her hands over its smooth surface.   Her aunt had possessed a desk like this and there had been a day when she had shown Maria all its artful little hiding places where one could hide a lover’s note, or that bill for the new hat that the husband shouldn’t see.

 

She returned to her seat at the desk and removed the central drawer.  By slipping her arm through the cavity she found two small half moon catches and she pulled lightly on each.  Immediately a hollow opened up at the back of the desk.  She smiled.  So easy.  The drawer only went two thirds of the way, and within the other third ?  She groped further and her fingers felt the edge of paper, rough to her touch.  Within less than a minute the paper was in her hands.  She tried again, and another piece of paper came to her fingers.

 

Before she could look at them she replaced the drawer.   There was no evidence that she had been near it now, and she hurried to wards the window where the light shown through.  The first piece of paper was a list of names, the list that Philip Thomas had so carefully written down for Adam, translated from the Russian that had been on the original documents. 

 

The next was a letter marked Private and Confidential …  she opened it carefully, saw the signature and trembled.    She stared at the little slip of paper for some seconds then refolded it, replaced it in the envelope and wished that she had never, never got herself so entangled in this venture.

 

The clock struck 4 p.m. and there were footsteps approaching the cabin.  Hastily she did what most women would do, and pushed the papers down  the front of her dress, then waited for the door to open.

 

Chapter 81

 

Adam exhaled a long breath, then there was silence until he inhaled shallow breaths, slowly filling his lungs as he lay on his back upon the damp cellar floor.   He could barely open his eyes for what light existed brought pain.  It was easier to close them again.

 

He had to think,  concentrate on what had occurred.  Pelman and someone - could it have been that reptile of a secretary of his - had pushed him down the cellar steps.   Why?  It didn’t make sense.    Those documents must have been far more incriminating that even he had thought them to be.  A pity neither Jack nor Philip had translated the papers other than the list of names.

 

Names?  Of course, the names.   He mumbled them aloud like a child would recite a nursery rhyme to keep the shadows at bay.   If he were allowed to repeat those names to the person who had requested him to take on the assignment, then men, like Pelman, would be arrested for treason.  Their reputations, their aspirations, everything would be lost.   It didn’t really matter to them what was on the other documents, it was the list of names that mattered.

 

But it still didn’t make sense that they should push him into the cellar.   It was illogical.  Adam raised a hand to his brow and felt something wet and slick beneath his fingers.   He forced open his eyes and realised that the light had now gone.   He was in darkness, and alone.

 

………………………………

 

The door to the cabin opened and Daniel walked in, looked up at his wife and sighed,

 

“That man Thaler took the log.  I never got to see Pelman.”  he cast his hat onto a chair and stretched out his hand to wards Maria.  “I asked him if he had seen Adam and he said that Adam had stayed on, there was some kind of soiree with some other officers.”

 

“That’s alright then, isn’t it?” she sat down on the floor at his feet, “He’ll be back soon I should imagine.”

 

“I don’t know.” Daniel absent mindedly stroked her hair, as though her presence was like some dream that he was reaching out for but was understood to be nothing more than that dream.

 

For some moments they sat together in silence, each of them deep in thoughts of their own.   Eventually he released her hand and stood up, walked over to the desk and looked at it as though seeing it for the first time.  Then he ran his fingers through  his hair, while a frown settled upon his brow.  Maria, her mouth going a little dry with nerves stood up and walked to his side.  What if he knew about the hidden compartment and that Adam had hidden the list of names there?  What if he went to look for it now?

 

“How tidy it is - I thought when I picked up the log that it was very tidy.   Nothing on the blotter, nothing at all here except the log.”  he said quietly, while she clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into the flesh of her palms.

 

“Which Commodore Pelman now has.”  she reminded him quickly.

 

“Yes.   Everythings in the log.   Everything that we’ve endured over the past weeks, the men we’ve lost,  the misery we’ve suffered.”

 

He shook his head and looked at her then, smiled and took her hand in his,

 

“I’m sorry, Maria, I’m not being the most caring of husbands, am I?   It’s just that I can’t believe Adam would not return here, at least to say good bye,  or -”  he paused again and once more shook his head, “I just feel that something isn’t right here.   Something’s wrong, very wrong.”

 

“What are you going to do?  Can you come now with me to the hotel?”

 

“No, I can’t, my dear,”  he drew her close to him, “No,  I haven’t been signed off, and I haven’t been granted shore leave.  I’m still part of the ship’s crew.”

 

“Oh,  but what does that mean?  Can’t you come back with me now?”

 

“I have to remain on board, Maria, at the moment I’m acting Officer in charge.”

 

“Then I shall have to return to the hotel on my own?”

 

All manner of thoughts passed through O’Brien’s mind at that point, but he pushed most of them away,  kissed her gently and sadly agreed that, yes, this evening she would have to return to the hotel alone.

 

“Do you think, Daniel, that your friend is in danger of some kind?”  she looked at him, into his eyes that always betrayed how he truly felt,

 

“Yes, I think I do.”

 

“Does that mean that you could be in danger as well?”

 

Daniel grimaced, shrugged slightly,

 

“Well, I guess I know just about as much about what’s happened as Adam does,” he replied slowly, and at her sharp intake of breath, he lowered his head, stroked her hair and kissed her, “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.  Duke’s here, we’ll put our heads together and try and work out something.”

 

“How can you?  You don’t even know where you friend is?  And perhaps he isn’t in danger, perhaps he is just enjoying the soiree, perhaps a little drunk and having a good time.”

 

“Yes,  perhaps you’re right.” he didn’t sound convinced and she could see in his eyes that he was worried, that her suggestion had not really been accepted as valid.   “We’ve got so used to being careful, watching our backs, being careful what we said and whom we said it to, for so long now that -” he stopped himself, bit his bottom lip and then shrugged, “that I guess I can’t get used to the fact that we’re back in civilisation now.  I’m seeing shadows where there aren’t any.”

 

She merely smiled, and looked at him before kissing his cheek,

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

He nodded, and she left him, slowly closing the door behind her and hurrying away.   From the cabin window he watched her as she boarded the cab, two bay horses trotted away from the harbour, he followed it with his eyes until it turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

 

Chapter 82

 

There was a light tap on the door but Daniel remained standing by the window his eyes still fixed in the direction that the cab had taken, bearing his wife away.  The door finally opened and the cook peered into the room,

 

“Oh!  Has the lady gone?”

 

“Yes, she’s gone.” Daniel replied, his voice was listless, quiet.  

 

He turned to see the cook who had a pot of coffee and cups on a tray, which he carried into the room and set down on the table.  Daniel watched without taking what he saw too much into account, he was thinking  of Maria, and of the few snatched hours they had shared that day.

 

“I came earlier to see if the lady wanted anything, I’m sorry I missed her.  A lovely lady, sir.”

 

“Yes, she is.” Daniel smiled dreamily, his mind still intoxicated with the memory of her kisses.

 

“Did she find what she was looking  for?”

 

Daniel’s brain did a somersault back to the harsh reality of what life had been all about for the past few months.  His mouth went inexplicably dry and he could barely swallow,

 

“What was she looking for?” he whispered.

 

“I don’t know, sir, she never said.   I asked her but she just smiled and asked for some coffee.”

 

“Where was she - when you saw her looking for something?”

 

“At the desk, sir.”

 

“I see, thank you.”  he frowned, there was something else, “Oh, thank you for the wine.”

 

“My pleasure, sir.” the cook grinned, he would have winked but he could tell from the Lieutenants face that had he done so - well, it wouldn’t have been exactly the wisest course for him to take just then.

 

The desk - looking for something - Maria.   The cab didn’t turn in the right direction for the hotel.  That was why he stood at the window, trying to work out what was wrong, there had been something wrong and it was the cab - it went in the direction of Pelman’s offices.  

 

He felt the perspiration breaking out all over him, nerves seemed to tingle like tiny pin pricks all over his body, his temples throbbed and his throat tightened, almost to the point of choking him.   Maria?   Searching for what?

 

He went to the desk and looked down at it.  So neat and tidy.   Adam had told him that if there were any problems he was to look into a small compartment hidden in the desk.  He had shown him where it was although he hadn’t shown him what he was going to put into it, after all they hadn’t even got to Alaska by then.   He sat down in the Captain’s chair and pulled out the middle drawer.   He groped inside and found the hidden cavity, but no matter how dextrous his fingers he couldn’t feel anything there.

 

Perhaps Adam had not left anything there after all.   Daniel closed the drawer and sat staring at the desk.   He tried to push Maria’s duplicity out of his mind as he tried to concentrate on anything that Adam may have said, or done, that would have indicated a change of plan.  That was when he recalled the conversation they had had a few days earlier -

 

“My wife’s family were very staunch Confederates.   They lost so much and -”

 

“And?”

 

“I’m just worried that my father-in-law’s name would be on that list.   He’s a fine man, Adam, I - I wouldn’t want to be the one who betrayed him.”

 

He remembered how Adam had shaken his head, looked so anxious and worried.  He remembered worrying that Adam may actually be doubting HIM, thinking that he would be the next to betray him.    The relief when Adam had raised his eyes and looked him squarely in the face and asked him for the name of his father in law. 

 

Daniel shivered, he’d given his father in law’s name, and Adam had stopped, thoughtful,  mentally going over the names in his mind until he had looked up and very sternly looked into Daniel’s eyes …

 

“Melkevik isn’t a name on the list.” he had stated very categorically “No,  his name isn’t on the list.”

 

But there had been someone else’s name on the list, Daniel told himself.  Someone whom Adam felt he couldn’t divulge to his friend, perhaps hoping that he was wrong, it may be another woman, with the same name … Maria O’Brien.

 

His hands were shaking, he couldn’t stir from the chair, and his mouth was so dry that he couldn’t speak.   Perhaps, he told himself, he had made a mistake, looked into the wrong compartment, and he pulled open the other drawer and saw the gun snug within its holster.

 

…………………………..

 

Adam  was not sure whether he had fallen asleep or drifted back into unconsciousness.   He was stiff, felt awkward and clumsy, and it was a struggle to get his body to respond to his brains commands.  Eventually he succeeded in turning over and from then he made an attempt to get to his feet.   He failed. 

 

He licked his lips, struggled again, groped for some leverage with his hands upon the ground, but to no avail.  Light was fading from the window now.   He stared at it as though it were a beacon of hope that once extinguished would rob him of any future.

 

Names.  He had to think - and all he could think about were a list of names.    Metcalfe … Jeffrey Metcalfe … why had Williamson changed his name from Metcalfe?  What had he done to need his name changed ?

 

He needed to move and to get on his feet.  He should have brought O’Brien with him, what a fool to have left him on board the ship?    He struggled again to draw his legs up and his feet to gain some hold on the ground, but he could not achieve it.  The best he could do was to crawl, so that was what he did, he crawled closer to the window, dragging himself across the floor, until he could touch the glass of the window with his hand.

 

His fingers groped along the dust and cobwebs that adorned the window sill, until he felt a bar to which he clung to draw himself up a little higher, high enough to see what was beyond the window.   

 

He could hear the muffled sound of sea gulls cawing to one another, some men shouting across at one another, but nothing else.  The last light of day slipped away and the cellar was plunged into darkness.

 

He had told O’Brien that Melkevik was not a name on the list.  But it had been there, bracketed against another  name. 

 

He released his hold on the bar and sunk down upon the floor.    There were lots of names on that list, some of them had been introduced to him that afternoon, Pelman’s associates.  Jenkins.  Metcalfe.  Maria (Melkevik) O’Brien.   There was no mistake.  As his eyes closed he wondered whether he had been wise concealing that fact from his friend.

 

Chapter 83

 

Thaler opened the door to admit Maria O’Brien who approached Pelman in a blaze of  conflicting passions.   However, the closer she came to the desk over which Pelman presided the more quickly the passions died within her, and she eventually reached him feeling emotionally  exhausted and desperate.

 

Pelman raised his eyes to her and scanned her face, perhaps he could see upon her features and in the livid eyes that she was fighting a war within herself because he rose from the chair and moved round the table towards her, extending his hand and smiling as with genuine affection.

 

“My dear Mrs O’Brien, Maria -”  he led her to a chair and turned to Thaler, “Some wine for our visitor, Jonas.   Would you like something to eat, my dear?”

 

She shook her head, perhaps the enormity of what she had done finally scorched her conscience for she felt sick, weak and faint.   Her hands trembled within his and he shook his head, rubbed her hands gently and muttered little sounds much as a father would to an ailing child,

 

“Now, now, child, bear up.   You are frightened and upset I dare say?  Did you find your husband well?”

 

She looked at his face, the sympathetic eyes, the loose fat mouth, and she shrunk back,

 

“I found my husband had been wounded, severely.   He has only recently recovered from being very ill.   The Captain also -”  she turned to take the glass of wine from Thayer and knew from its smell that it was a good quality brandy which she sipped slowly.  “My husband -”  her lips quivered, “If he ever knew I had betrayed him I don’t think he would ever forgive me.”

 

“Nonsense, a man in love like he, with a wife like you?”  he smiled, and patted her hand gently.

 

“No,  no, I don’t think so.  I had never seen him before as he was today.  I had only ever seen him as my handsome charming husband, but today I saw him as - as a man to be respected, honoured, loved for being gallant and - and so brave.  When I saw the wounds on his body -” hot tears rose to her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

 

“Drink some more, my dear, and wipe up your tears.  You have nothing to fear, your dear Lieutenant will never know what you were asked to do.”  he smiled, “I am sure that I can guarantee you that he will be too happy taking command of his own ship as a Captain.   Now, how does that suit you?  Does that not make you happier?”

 

She said nothing,  but sipped some more of the brandy before she looked at him,

 

“My husband is concerned about the safety of his Captain.   Is he here still?”

 

“I don’t really know,” he looked over at Thaler, “Is Captain Cartwright still here, Thaler?”

 

“The Officers and other gentlemen have all left now, sir.  I’m sure that Captain Cartwright went along with them.”

 

“He didn’t return to the ship.”  Maria said faintly.

 

“Perhaps he has been invited back with one of the other gentlemen, to continue with the evening.  Some were rather in their cups I’m afraid.” Thaler smiled.

 

“Seamen !”  Pelman shrugged and smiled good naturedly, “Now, my dear, enough of  this talk, were you able to find anything ?”

 

“Not the original documents.   I searched everywhere for them but -” she paused and produced the papers she had found from her purse and handed them to Pelman, “I found these.”

 

Pelman frowned doubtfully, the thought of the Russian papers still unfound  was not only a disappointment but an annoyance.  He stood up and walked to the desk in order to turn up the flame of the lamp, and after doing so he read the list of names that Philip Thomas had so tidily written down for Adam.   He drew in his breath and shook his head,

 

“You know what this means, don’t you?  It means that our Captain knows the names of everyone on this list, including your own, Madam.    What do you say to that?” and he slammed it down upon the desk, making Maria jump.   

 

Now he took from the envelope that had been marked Private and Confidential the letter that Adam had received at the commencement of his journey.  He read it, frowned, re-read it and then stared momentarily into space as though confused.  Then he looked again at Maria and nodded,

 

“Well done.  This alone guarantees your husband’s promotion.   As for this list - it means that you don’t have to fear our telling your husband about your involvement.  I am sure the good Captain would want to be honest with his friend -”  he shrugged, “There’s little I can do about that, may be your husband knows all ready.”

 

Maria shook her head, she recalled to mind the time she had spent with Daniel on the ship,  and she knew that there was certainly no way he could have acted towards her as he had done, were he to have known .  He was too honourable to be so deceitful.

 

“I suggest that you return to your hotel, Madam,  and see how things  turn out tomorrow.  I am sure that any future developments can only work to your advantage.”

 

She rose to her feet, and pulled her cloak closer to her, before looking from one to the other of them

 

“I - I don’t suppose you’ll need my services any more, will you?”

 

“Who knows?  Who am I to say?” he smiled, shrugged, “At present I would advise you to concentrate on your husband, and do what you can to convince him of what a good little wife you really are.”

 

She shivered at the underlying threat beneath his words, and without a backward glance hurried out of the room.

 

Pelman turned to Thaler, and crushed the letter between his fingers

 

“Grant knows more than we realised.    He warned Cartwright about Lawson, and about Metcalfe.  He’s coming here to put a noose around all our necks.”

 

“He can’t without those papers that Cartwright must still have in his possession.”

 

“Fool!   If he knew about Lawson and Metcalfe, then what else does he know?   And who told him?   Who could have warned him?”

 

“Someone in diplomatic services I should imagine.   A weak link in the chain somewhere -” Thaler frowned, “We need to get the original documents.    Perhaps the Captain should get a visit?”

 

Pelman shook his head and placed a restraining hand upon Thaler’s arm,

 

“No,  not yet.  Let’s leave him for a night without food and water … he may be happier to speak in the morning.”

 

Chapter 84

 

Daniel O’Brien had just paid his cab and stepped back for it to leave the edge of the kerb when he saw a woman leaving the building and getting into the cab that had just passed his own.   Only a man in love could recognise the one so beloved.  The shape of them, the tilt of the head, their bearing …all so familiar to just the one person.

 

He waited until the cab drew near and retreated into the shadows and then, upon some impulse, jumped lightly onto the axle at the back of the vehicle.   How many children had done likewise over the years.   He leaned against the back of the cab and wondered what Maria would say if she had but know that only a thin layer of leather separated her from her husband at that moment.

 

The cab deposited her (and consequently Daniel) outside her hotel.   Without glancing around but with head held high, the young woman pushed open the door and stepped inside, a moment later Daniel did likewise.   From his position behind a pillar in the foyer Daniel was able to see the number of the room from the key that was handed to her by the hotel clerk.  He gave her a few moments and then swiftly mounted the stairs to the landing and was soon tapping on her door.

 

“Who is it?”  her voice was a cautious whisper but his reply was a very stern “Your husband.”

 

There was a pause, then the key was turned in the lock and she opened the door which he closed behind him as soon as he had entered the room.

 

“I didn’t expect you here!” she exclaimed, her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed.

 

“No?  Then who did you expect?”

 

“No one.” she whispered.

 

He glanced at the cloak cast upon the arm of a chair, and then looked at her.

 

“I wanted to see you, Maria.   I wanted to talk about something important with you.  Did you come straight to the hotel?”

 

“Why do you ask?”  she replied defensively and stepped back, one hand to her throat and the other on his arm.

 

“Well, did you?   Or did you visit someone before coming here?  A friend perhaps?”

 

She stared at him as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, as though she were caught in some spider’s web from which there was no return. A deep abyss seemed to be yawning in front of her and she could only open her mouth, close it and tighten her hold on his arm.

 

“Dearest,  I’m sorry.”  Daniel said more quietly “You’re upset, distressed.   I didn’t mean to upset you it’s just that - that such wild fancies have come to my mind since you left.   I needed to see you and - and it was  unfair of me to be dishonest with you.”

 

“You?  Dishonest with me?” her mouth ran dry, how could Daniel have been dishonest with her when the only person in the room guilty of any deceit was herself.

 

“I saw you earlier leaving the Admiralty Offices and came  here - I know you didn’t come straight here from the Ainola. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you questions that would have made things so difficult for  you.”

 

“Difficult - for me?” her voice was barely a whisper and she turned away, “Because you expected me to lie to  you is that it?   Because you expected me to say I had come here and then you would have said - liar, I know  you didn’t?”

 

“I don’t want you to lie to me, Maria.”

 

She lowered her eyes again and turned her back on him,  her head lowered,  a curl disengaged itself and slowly  loosened free from her coils,  to fall  upon her neck and he approached  her, put his hands upon her shoulders and turned her to face him

 

“Can’t you trust me enough to tell me what is going on between you and Pelman?”

 

“Pelman?  Who said anything to  you that I would be seeing Pelman?”  she pulled herself away,  and then once again stopped short,  turned to face him, “Whatever I’ve done was for you, Daniel.”

 

“For me?  What do you mean - for me?”   he didn’t move to touch her, but stood frozen to the spot,  looking at her white face with the red blush upon her cheeks.

 

“I - I can’t tell you.”

 

“I think you must, Maria.  If you want me to respect and trust you at all in our future then I really think that you must.”

 

“You never mentioned - love.” she whispered.

 

“I’ll always love you,” he replied honestly,  and he shrugged slightly, raised his eyebrows, “I can’t help myself loving you.  But as for respect and trust, well, how can I when you lie and deceive me?”

 

She lowered her eyes, but could not speak until once again his hands were upon her shoulders and she was forced to look up into his face and saw there the sadness in his eyes and the grim set of his lips,

 

“Maria, I can’t help you if you don’t trust me.”

 

She pushed herself away and then, as though overcome with weariness, sunk into a chair,  shook her head in disbelief and then produced a small lace trimmed piece of cambric from her sleeve with which she dabbed at her eyes,

 

“Daniel, you can’t help me.  I thought I was going to be able to help you and my family and instead I have placed myself, and you, in the greatest danger.”

 

“In what way?”

 

She couldn’t speak for a moment and it wasn’t until she had drank some water from the glass he handed her that she was able to tell him

 

“You know that my fathers family originated from Norway, and that the family business was connected with a Russian company?”  she looked at him and he nodded, and sat down in a chair opposite her, “During the Civil War my family were on the southern side, as were you and your family.   When the war ended my father accepted that this was now a United country, but I - I couldn’t.   I couldn’t.” her voice rose and she clenched her fists. “I saw so many of my friends and cousins die for that cause.  I couldn’t let go so quickly, nor so easily.  A cousin of mine came and invited me to a meeting one evening,  small cells of Confederate sympathisers were still meeting together, planning how to -”

 

“Go on?” 

 

“It was wild talk at times, the kind of still talk one expects from young hot heads.   But although I could never see anything coming from  such talk, I liked being part of it all.  It was as though I could still maintain some kind of allegiance to those I had known who would never be coming back home.”

 

“Oh Maria -” he groaned and shook his head, reached out and took her hand, “Was this before we were married?”

 

“Oh yes, before we even met.”

 

“And you didn’t tell me?”

 

“Well, there was nothing to tell.   Time went back, the meetings became fewer, people drifted back to real life I suppose.   Then one day, my cousin visited me and asked me if I still wanted to support the Southern cause.  I said it was too late now,  the South could never sustain another civil war, and I wouldn’t want it to either,  not more deaths and carnage, not like it had been - but he said that there was more than one way to win a war, or perhaps,  give support to the South and restore her to her former glory.”

 

“What did he ask of you?”

 

“He introduced me to Jonas Thaler.  I signed an agreement that if I saw or heard anything of interest I would let Thaler know.    My father’s connections with the Russian company meant he was in contact with many entrepreneurs dealing with many different commodities.  When Russia sold Alaska to America I remembered my father saying that the amount of gold  in those territories would be like a second Comstock.  It was just a chance comment said over dinner.  I told Thaler.   Then I met Pelman.”

 

Daniel could barely speak, his throat was dry and his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth.  He rose to his feet and poured himself some water.

 

“He said he had the power to ruin my father with a snap of his fingers, and you too.  On the other hand if I agreed to help them then he would advance your commission to become a Captain with your own ship.”

 

Daniel groaned, sunk into the chair and buried his face in his hands.   He shook his head, looked  up at her and hardly dared to speak.

 

“What did he want  you to do?”

 

“Tell him everything I could about anything to do with Alaska.   My father -”  she paused, a tear trickled down her face and once again she dabbed at it with her handkerchief, “My father’s so trusting, so naïve.  He said one day that when the Russian in charge of the Alaskan territories handed it over to the - I don’t know the man’s name  but  the American Goverments representative,  he placed some documents in the hands of his cousin, a woman called Irena.   I asked him - how did he know that - and he just shrugged and said a business contact of his mentioned it in passing.”

 

Daniel felt his heart hammering beneath his ribs.  How well he could imagine the scene, Maria’s father - yes, a trusting naïve man who despite being one of the most astute businessmen in the world  - trusted his family one hundred per cent, had been manipulated by his daughter into revealing something that Pestchouroff thought had been a safe secret.  

 

“Did he mention to you what was in the documents?” he asked

 

“I asked him if he knew why the documents were so important, and he shrugged, he didn’t know.   I told Jack -”

 

“Jack?”

 

“My cousin, Jack -”  she faltered, couldn’t meet his eyes and looked away.

 

“Jack Lawson?”

 

She bowed her head.   Jack Lawson -  Jack Lawson knew that Maria was involved in the matter, knew how involved, oh - Daniel rose to his feet and struck his brow with his hand, how the man must have been laughing at him all the time.  Through out all that awful journey, Jack Lawson knew that Maria O’Brien was as much a traitor as himself.   And what did it make of him?  A fool,  a manipulated fool.

 

“Did he - was he the the cousin who introduced you to these people?” he asked huskily.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And he knew about you, not telling me?”

 

“I begged him not to let you know.”

 

“Oh Maria - Maria, you break my heart, you break my heart” he whispered in a sound more like a sob  than anything else.  He turned away from looking at her, and stared out of the window.  

 

He could see the lights on the masts of the ships in the harbour, far away from the hotel.   He drew in his breath.

 

“Did you know what the papers were?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did Pelman?”

 

“I suppose so.”

 

He turned and looked at her, his face was white and his eyes seemed dead in his face,

 

“Did you steal some papers from Adam’s desk and give them to Pelman today?”

 

“Yes, I did.”  she nodded and rose to her feet.  “But - but what else could I do?  He said we would be ruined if I didn’t.”

 

“We?”

 

“You and I, my father.”

 

O’Brien stepped back as she reached out for his arm.   When he looked at his reflection in the window he saw a man he could no longer recognise.

 

 

 

Chapter 85

 

The chill of the night air permeated the cellar but the man huddled against the wall seemed oblivious to it.   The vermin that seek out only the dark slunk out of their holes and pattered about,  beetles and bugs trailed their way up and over the body that impeded their progress.   Once he stirred and stretched out one leg,  and groaned in the process.

 

The moon slid behind a cloud and blotted out all the light until a few minutes later when it slipped back into full luminescence once again.    Still the recumbent figure remained collapsed against the damp wall beneath the window.

 

……………………….

 

Duke Day paced back and forth with his hands folded behind his back .   He stopped his pacing at the sight of a cab approaching the Ainola and waited to see who would descend.  When he recognised Daniel he hurried to the side of the ship and waited for him to board.

 

“Have you found the Captain?”

 

“Hasn’t he boarded yet?”

 

They looked at one another and each shook their heads.  

 

“Lieutenant O’Brien, don’t mind me for saying so, but I think there’s something seriously wrong here.”

 

“Go ahead, what’s on your mind, sergeant?”

 

“Just that it isn’t like Captain Cartwright to break with ship’s protocol.   He should’ve been back by now.  In fact,  he should have been back here hours ago.”

 

Daniel nodded, glanced at the moon and put a hand on his companion’s arm.

 

“There’s nothing that we can do just now, sergeant.  If we wait for the morning perhaps we could find out exactly what’s going on then.”

 

The Sergeant at Arms said nothing to that, only nodded gravely.  

 

“Sir?”

 

“Yes, sergeant?”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Yes,” O’Brien snapped shortly, then paused, “Yes, thank you.   I’m alright.”

 

“Would you like some supper brought to your cabin?”

 

“I’ll have something in the Captain’s quarters -” he replied brusquely and strode out of the way of Duke’s solicitous questions.

 

In Adam’s cabin he sunk down into the chair by the desk, buried his face in his hands and gave way to tears.    It seemed that everything he had loved and trusted and cared about  had fallen to dust about him.  Maria’s duplicity would affect his career and  his friendship with Adam, for how could the Captain possibly trust him as a friend now?

 

He could barely bring himself to remember the sight of his wife as she was when he had left her.  Her eyes swollen with tears, her face red and puffy, unable to speak a word  through the breathlessness brought about by her sobs. 

 

“Don’t leave me,” she had turned to him, her hand outstretched towards him as he had crossed the room from the  window, “Don’t go from me, Daniel.”

 

“I can’t stay here, Maria, not now.  I have to go and think about what to do.”  and he had opened the door and closed it sharply with his name ringing in his ears.

 

He wasn’t even sure how he had managed to find a cab and return to the ship.  He felt like a man who had drunk far too much,  light headed, stumbling,  slurred of speech and muddled in head.   Finally he rubbed his face free of tears, went over to the basin of water and doused his face, dried it and forced himself to appear composed  when the supper things arrived.    He kept his back to the seaman who brought it in, mumbled a thank you,  and waited for the door to close.

 

He had to think and he had to find the Captain.   Whatever was to happen after that, would at least be with Adam’s connivance in the matter and although he dreaded telling Adam about Maria he was well aware that there would be no solution to the problem unless he did.

 

………………….

 

“Well, my friend, have you slept well?”

 

The voice seemed to echo inside his head, and slowly Adam opened his eyes, saw Jonas Thaler’s face leering down at him, and promptly closed them again.

 

“Go away”

 

“Tchah.”  Jonas shook his head, “Captain, that’s a very childish attitude.  Now, come along,  sit up.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“You haven’t tried, have you?”

 

Adam coughed, cleared his throat and opened his eyes again.  He struggled to get into a sitting position and then put his hand to the back of his head.  He winced when his fingers touched a bloodied mass of hair, and reproachfully he glared at Thaler.

 

“Where’s Pelman?”

 

“He’ll be here soon.”

 

“This isn’t how you usually treat your guests, is it?  I mean, the Officers I met yesterday haven’t all been bundled into these ‘oubliettes’ , have they?”

 

“Certainly not.” Thaler replied coolly.

 

“No, I didn’t think so.  I couldn’t imagine Jenkins here for a start.”  Adam touched the back of his head again and winced.  He wiped his bloodied fingers down  the front of his jacket in an absent minded manner and then sighed

 

“So?    Why the panic?”

 

“No one is panicking, Captain.”

 

“I disagree.  When an Officer is being entertained one moment with other Officers and the next he’s shoved down a flight of stairs into this hole … one can only assume that something happened in the interim and you and Pelman are panicking.  If you aren’t, then let me go.”

 

“Sorry,” a voice from the top of the stairs announced Pelman’s presence, and the ponderous steps of the Commodore were evidence of his descent, “we can’t do that - as yet.”

 

Adam fixed Pelman with a blank stare and then looked at Thaler.  He shrugged,

 

“So what exactly is it that you want from me?”

 

“Your silence.” Pelman replied, and he walked to the window,  looked out and smiled slowly, “I think your life is worth your silence, don’t you?”

 

“My silence about what?”

 

“About the documents.”

 

“I don’t know what you mean?”

 

“The documents you brought from  Alaska.   Tell me where they are now,  and we’ll all pretend that they never existed except in the mind of one delusional lady.”

 

“A delusional lady?  That sounds interesting.    Who exactly is this delusional lady?”

 

“You mean you don’t know?”

 

Pelman leaned towards Adam with his toad like eyes boring into Adam’s face,  but the younger man shook his head,

 

“Most young ladies I know are never delusional -” he said coldly, matching stare for stare.

 

“If you tell us the whereabouts of the documents and then forget that you ever had them - let’s say, for instance, that Lebedev took them from you in Alaska or that you never even had possession of them, that Irena Pestchouroff had handed them to Lebedev before you reached her, then you can go free, safe.   The young lady will come to no harm and your friend will be none the wiser about her either.”

 

Adam turned his head away and stared at the corner of the cellar at a hole from which he was sure a rat had appeared during the night.   He glanced again at Pelman, a rather larger rat in his opinion, and shook his head,

 

“I don’t know where the documents are.” he replied quietly.

 

Pelman’s hand struck him across the face, catching him beneath the eye and knocking him slightly backwards.  He blinked, raised a hand to his face, and blinked again, the blow had been sharp and had brought tears to his eyes. 

 

“Where are the documents, Captain Cartwright?” he hissed.

 

“I don’t know.”  Adam replied once again and steeled himself for another blow.

 

“Is it that they are lost, or because someone else has possession of them?  Were they stolen from you?   Captain Cartwright, do you know what was written in those documents?”

 

Adam kept his mouth closed, clenched his fists and was about to launch himself a blow at Pelman only to have Thaler stamp hard down upon his hand, so hard that he couldn’t refrain from gasping in pain.

 

“This is getting us nowhere -” Pelman cried in exasperation, “Send some men to the ship and tear the cabin apart until you find them.  Rip the whole ship to pieces if need be -”  he leaned closer to Adam, “You and your friend, will rue the day you crossed me.   Tell me where the documents are or by heaven -”

 

“I don’t know where they are -” Adam repeated,  each word uttered through clenched teeth.  “They’ve gone, that’s all you need know.”

 

“They’ve gone?   And where have they gone?  Where?” once again the hand was raised and Adam tensed waiting for it to fall, but Pelman didn’t strike the man but brought his hand down slowly as though he had had an idea, “You gave them to someone else for safe keeping, didn’t you?”

 

Thaler grabbed a handful of Adam’s hair and yanked his head backwards, Pelman stepped closer “Who did you give it to?  No one left on board ship - there’d be no point in that, someone who left the ship - ?   Someone you felt you could trust?”

 

Adam said no more,  his lips were a thin line and his eyes blazed defiance.   Pelman smiled and shrugged

 

“It hardly matters, we’ll find out.”   he straightened himself , pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows,  “When the President gets here, wondering where his maverick Captain has gone, well - we’ll just have to tell him that the Captain failed in his duty - couldn’t face up to the disgrace - very sad but there it is, what can one do?”   he smiled, “”We’ll find out who has the documents, Adam Cartwright, don’t  you fret.   We know it isn’t Mr O’Brien who I am sure will soon have troubles of his own to contemplate.  We’ll find the documents and remain safely as we are, and the President will be none the wiser.  He’ll wonder, of course, but Presidents are very busy with many other problems, you’ll soon be forgotten, as will the documents.  Presidents trust those who tell them what they want to hear -”  he straightened his cravat, “Believe me, Adam, I do know what I’m talking about in that respect.”

 

Adam remained silent, his eyes never left Pelman’s face.   When Thaler and Pelman walked up the steps to the door  he watched them go every step of the way.   Then Pelman paused, took a gun from his pocket and placed it on the top step.  He smiled down at Adam

 

“You’ve failed, Captain.   This gun has just one bullet in it.  I’m presuming you won’t want breakfast - ?” he laughed then but Adam’s face didn’t change a muscle, he just watched as Pelman closed the door.

 

Chapter 86

 

Adam winced as the door slammed shut.  He raised his hand to his face and wiped away blood from the newly acquired cut courtesy of Pelman.  He shook his head as though to clear his brain and struggled to get to his feet.  It was an effort, his legs kept giving way at the knees and he wondered if he had broken something.  When he took a deep breath he felt a familiar pain and was able, from experience, to ascertain at least one broken rib.

 

He groped once again for the bar across the window and hauled himself into a better position.    He could see a pale sky, indicative of rain, and then groped in his pocket for his watch.   He wasn’t surprised to find it had stopped and the glass had broken.  Slipping it carefully back he squinted to locate the sun and was able to place the time of day as morning,  about 8 a.m.    He looked as best he could at the sight in front of him, not many people about,  several Marines doing what Marines were expected to do in a military establishment.   

 

He passed a hand over the glass of the window, slowly as though he were clearing away the dust of years, then he turned to regard the stairs once again.   The gun was there, balanced carefully on the top step.

 

……………………………..

 

O’Brien straightened his jacket carefully and adjusted his hat.   Behind him Sergeant Day and four Marines were behind him.    A sentry stepped forward but Sergeant Day out ranked him, and hissed at him to step back and to let them pass.

 

Pelman looked at the entourage with raised eye brows.  He had been leaning over his desk to shuffle through the papers there, checking which were to be dealt within order of importance.  When he saw O’Brien he smiled, and beckoned to him to advance.    Day and the Marines stopped by the door while O’Brien approached him   Another door opened as though on cue, and Thaler stepped into the room, his hands full of some papers and letters.  He stopped in his tracks when he saw O’Brien and then, after a quick glance at Pelman, approached the desk.

 

“Mr O’Brien, how pleasant to see you again and so early -”  Pelman smiled as though he had just had the pleasure of seeing his closest friend  enter the room,

 

“I want you to tell me where Captain Cartwright is - sir”

 

“YOU want?   Dear me, so formal!”   he chuckled and sat down,  beckoned O’Brien to come even nearer, “Now then, Mr O’Brien, let me tell you something - I saw your lovely wife yesterday.  Beautiful girl.   I’m sure you must have seen her by now?”  he paused and looked at the blank face of the young man, and raised his eye, “What?  You haven’t seen her yet?  Come now, that is rather remiss of you.   A lovely girl -”

 

“My wife is really no concern of yours, sir.  I’ve come to ask you to release Captain Cartwright.”

 

“No concern of mine?  Dear me, Mr O’Brien, how discourteous can you be?   Your dear wife has been my concern for many years now. We’ve formed quite a close acquaintanceship in that time.”  he leaned against the chair and watched the colour mounting O’Brien’s collar. 

 

He looked down at the desk and began to rummage among some papers, then with a smile produced a document which he held up with a flourish

 

“Mr O’Brien, let me congratulate you on your commission.   You are now the Captain of a ship.” he stood up as though to hand it to the young man but O’Brien didn’t move, the poor fellow felt as though his feet had been nailed to the floor, and he could only stare at Pelman in disgust and disbelief, “Captain O’Brien, please accept your commission - you could say it is for services rendered.”

 

“Keep your commission.”  Daniel said in a voice thick with emotion,  “Keep it, and be grateful that I’ve still enough self control not to take it and shove it down your throat.”

 

Thayer stepped forward but his movement was matched by Day and his Marines.   Each man froze to the spot and it was Pelman who was the first to move,

 

“You won’t find Cartwright here, Mr O’Brien.   I promise you - the last I saw of him he was with some fellow officers in my reception rooms.”   he shrugged “You can search the building if you wish?”

 

O’Brien glanced at Thaler who maintained a resolute stance behind Pelman.  

 

“What are your orders, Mr O’Brien?” Duke asked from his position close to the door.

 

“Sergeant - I’d be careful if I were you.” Pelman said coldly, “I still happen to be your commanding officer, your superior.   It may have escaped your officers attention this morning, but he is obviously upset so I shall forgive him this one lapse.  But - only this one lapse.”   Pelman squared his shoulders and seemed to swell in size, “You had all better leave, now.   Come again and I’ll have everyone of you arrested for insubinordination.”

 

O’Brien stepped back, saluted coldly, swallowed a lump in his throat and turned to leave, when Pelman called to him to accept his commission he didn’t break his stride as he marched from the room.    Sergeant Day and the Marines fell into step behind him.  The door closed and only the sound of their retreating footsteps could be heard.  Pelman smiled, relaxed and glanced at Thaler.

 

“Well now,  quite an arrogant puppy,  isn’t he?”  he observed.

 

………………………

 

Adam held the gun in his hand and weighed it carefully.   He had checked the cylinder and noticed the one single bullet.  He then carefully inched himself down the steps again and leaned against the wall looking at the window.

 

It had been an effort to reach the gun.   Every step had been an ordeal and now he raised his arm and wiped his brow which was dewed with sweat.   Standing at the door he had wondered about using the one bullet to break the lock but then realised that it would have availed him nothing.   Beyond the door would have been Marines under Pelman’s command, and he, staggering about and looking a mess, feeling so miserably weak, would be no match for even one of them.

  

He raised his head and looked once again at the window before making his way towards it. His legs felt steadier now, steady enough to hold him up. He could barely move the fingers of one hand, perhaps some smaller bones were broken or badly bruised, thanks to Thaler’s big feet. He inhaled a deep breath, ground his teeth together and then, with the damaged hand he gripped the bar and hauled himself up to the level of the window. Then he carefully turned the gun so that he was holding it by the barrel. Without pausing any longer, he smashed the handle of the gun against the glass.

His previous testing of the glass had revealed that there was a weakness to it, but not weak enough for him to have broken it under hand pressure alone. The gun, ‘Thank you, Pelman’, had been more than adequate. As the glass splintered and shattered he lowered himself onto the floor, then stepped back to see how much room existed now between the bar and sill. Barely enough.

He sighed, a shuddering long drawn out sigh. Then willing himself not to feel the pain he grabbed the bar once again with his injured hand and crashed the handle of the gun against the existing glass. As he tumbled back onto the floor the glass splintered, and fell in shards about him.

He had rolled a little way from the wall when he had landed, his arms covering his head, and the glass fell without any harm to himself.   Now he had only to remove several large pieces from the sill area, which he knocked out with his gun, before grabbing at the bar and carefully inching his body between the brickwork, the bar and the sill.  The cool air of a morning breeze kissed his skin, and along with it the first shower of fine mist laden rain.

 

………………………………

 

O’Brien’s face was still burning with the intensity of his feelings.   ‘For services rendered -’ Pelman had said, and he felt sick at heart to even imagine what the underlying meaning lay behind those words.   

 

Sergeant Day was at a loss on what to do,  or how to help.  He was under orders and therefore unable to act under his own initiative.    He looked at his officer and felt intense pity touch his heart for the young man.   Having served in the Marines for many years he knew from experience just how hard it was to take the orders from a man one could not respect.  Even without knowing what was the main problem that existed between them, he knew that his officer was suffering now from extreme emotion distress.

 

He gained O’Brien’s side and touched his sleeve,

 

“Begging your pardon, sir, permission to speak?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I think it may be just a good idea if you were to take it a little easier on yourself, sir.  There’s a bench over there,  why not sit awhile and gather your thoughts, sir.” he beckoned to a wooden seat that was positioned by the wall of the building, facing towards the harbour.

 

“It’s alright, Duke,” O’Brien said quietly, “I’ll be alright.”

 

“I know you will be, sir.  But if you don’t mind my saying so, you do look as though you may collapse any moment now.  A rest on the bench won’t do no harm.”

 

“Do I really look that bad?” O’Brien mustered a vague smile and then nodded, followed Day and sunk down upon the bench.  

 

“Drat,” Duke muttered beneath his breath, “And now it’s started to rain.”

 

………………………………

 

For  a while Adam remained where he had fallen.   The wind had been knocked out of him and the pain in his ribs was an agony of fire.   Nothing he had not suffered before, he told himself, best get up, walk, find O’Brien - no - get a cab.  

 

He slowly raised his hand to his pocket and felt for his pocket book.  It was still there, with enough money to pay for  the stage coach fare all the way home.  He rolled onto his back and the rain touched his face.   He knew that his inclination now was to drift back into that strange comatose kind of sleep he had endured during the night and previous evening.   Everything in his body seemed to be screaming to close down , it came in drifts of waves, trembling over his limbs and his body.

 

Biting down hard on his bottom lip he pushed himself onto his feet, stumbled against the wall, and had to push himself away.   He picked up the gun that had fallen upon the ground and gripping onto it tightly he lunged forward.   It was just a matter of putting one foot before the other.   He frowned.  Memories flittered across his mind like so many cards being shuffled in his hands.  Memories of forcing his feet through the snow and telling himself … just one foot before the other, and then he was a child again, hearing his father’s voice saying ‘Just another step forward, Adam, just one more step to go, son.’

 

Some men looked over at him, muttered between themselves.   A Marine whispered to another that the service was going to the dogs when Officers were able to stumble around drunk in public.    An Officer, on hearing the whispers, turned his head and rose from the bench upon which he had been sitting.  He took off his hat and the rain fell upon his face and hair as he stared at the stumbling figure of the Officer who was waving, rather dangerously, a pistol in his hand.

 

There was something familiar about the way the tall bedraggled figure collapsed onto the ground, strove to regain his feet and then succumbed to the weakness that seemed to paralyse him.    Sergeant Day was already running, followed by his men, and then, O’Brien, thrusting his hat back upon his head, was running too.  

 

Duke was the first to reach the Captain and gently turned him onto his back, gently removed the gun from his hand.   He looked up at O’Brien and shook his head, his hand was  upon Adam’s chest, and there seemed to be no movement,  no indication of life anymore.

 

“Shall we take him to the Ainola, sir?”

 

O’Brien shook his head, he turned to a Marine

 

“Get a cab immediately.   Sergeant Day, help me get the Captain to his feet.”

 

“But -”

 

“No, don’t say it, Duke.   He isn’t dead.  He isn’t -” O’Brien shook his head, he felt as though he were going mad, his body was shaking with strung out nerves as taut as the strings on a bow  “Help me get him to the cab.  Then take your men back to the Ainola, and wait for our return.”

 

Chapter 87

 

Maria O’Brien opened the door to the sound of her husband’s furious knocking and calling of her name.  People from other suites in the hotel were opening doors and peering out to see what was the cause of the commotion, then tutted and closed their doors quickly.  Obviously two drunken naval officers causing a ruckus.  There would be complaints left with the management.

 

“What’s wrong?  Daniel, who’s this?”

 

“It’s Captain Cartwright.   I can’t get him to speak.  He’s in need of a doctor.  Maria, help me to get him to a bed.”

 

“But he can’t -”

 

“Forget about the niceties for the moment,” O’Brien looked into her face, his eyes too angry and the words so bluntly spoken, quelled her protests and she hurriedly opened the door to the other room in the suite.  

 

With some help from Maria, Daniel finally succeeded in getting Adam onto the bed, pulling off boots and jacket and flinging them to the floor.  He loosened the cravat at the Captain’s throat and without looking at his wife ordered her to get a doctor.

 

Without a word Maria left the room and then ran down the stairs to the receptionist clerk who listened with some surprise to the request and then cut through Maria’s babbling by saying there was actually a doctor  in Room 113, perhaps it would be a good idea to ask him for help, it would certainly be quicker than sending one of the staff to locate one.

 

Dr  Cleminson was a young man, still young enough to be idealistic and to have the desire to save the world.   Being called upon by a pretty young lady to attend to an injured man prompted him to abandon  his late breakfast, to grab at his medical bag, kiss the wife and hurry across to the room  Maria indicated.

 

Daniel was bathing Adam’s face and neck when Cleminson entered the room.  He looked at O’Brien and then at the man stretched upon the bed.

 

“Come, sir,” he said quietly, and moved to Daniel’s side, “I think I should take over from here, don’t you?   Why not get yourself some thing hot to drink, you don’t look too well yourself.”

 

Daniel glanced up at the young man and looked doubtful as to his abilities, then rose to his feet and stepped to one side.

 

“It’s alright, sir,”  Cleminson smiled reassuringly, “My name is Martyn Cleminson, and I’ve been practising medicine almost as long as you’ve been practising being a seaman.”  he placed a kindly hand on Daniel’s arm “Now, I presume this young lady is - perhaps - your wife?”

 

Maria stood at the doorway her eyes fixed on her husbands face, her fingers twisting the ribbon in her blouse.   When Daniel bowed his head and turned towards her she wondered whether or not he was actually going to ignore her, but instead he put his hand on her elbow and led her into the other room, leaving the Doctor to tend to his patient.

 

“Thank you, Maria.” he said quietly, “I didn’t know where else to go.  It was kind of you to help us.”

 

“Kind?  What do you mean - kind?   Isn’t it the kind of help you should expect from me?  I’m your wife -”  she stopped, her face twisted and for a moment it looked as though she were about to burst into tears.  “Daniel,  I’m so sorry -”

 

“Don’t, Maria, I don’t want to hear about it.”  now he did turn his back on her and walked to where coffee still steamed in a pot, he poured some out and it was only then that he realised how much his hands were shaking.

 

“You must, Daniel, you must let me speak.” she clung to his arm now and pulled at him, forcing him to turn and face her, “Daniel, I love you.  I love  you so much that - that your  anger at me is killing me.  Please, please, darling, please forgive me.”

 

“I saw Pelman today.   He offered me a commission as Captain of a ship, he said for services rendered.  He intimated that - you and he  - had a close relationship.”  his voice was cold, withdrawn and once again he couldn’t face her but stared at the things on the table.

 

“He’s lying.   Can’t you see that he’s lying?   A man like that uses lies to trap people, to draw them into his - his horrible way of life, and to cause as much harm as he can -”  she pulled once again at his sleeve, “Daniel,  you can’t believe him, surely you can’t?  Look at the way he’s lied to you and to your Captain all this time?  Do you really think he’s going to revert from how he has always been to some paragon  of truth now?”

 

Daniel heaved a deep sigh and bowed his head before slumping into a chair and burying his head into his hand, he felt her take hold of his fingers, and the longing to kiss her, to forgive her, to love her without the shadow of Pelman trammelling over them was very strong, very strong indeed.

 

“I want to believe you, Maria.  But you lied, you deceived me, you made the most treasonable arrangements and saw me go off on this past assignment knowing that your cousin was on board who knew more about you than I did?  Can’t you see that what you have done has destroyed us?”

 

“I can’t believe that, Daniel.   You don’t seem to see it from  my point of view at all.  I - I didn’t realise all the things involved with this.  I didn’t tell you because I was ashamed of my past involvement with them and then - then I thought it would help you, and keep father safe.   I never thought it was treason.”

 

“How could you not?” he turned to her and his eyes were large in his pale face, “How could you not?” he repeated and pushed her away.

 

………………………………...............

 

Peggy looked thoughtfully at Barbara and sighed, then she drank some more coffee and picked at her breakfast.

 

“Barbara, I think I have to go home soon.”

 

“Home?” Barbara looked surprised, “But I thought you were going to stay here?”

 

“No, there’s little point in my staying here.   Adam isn’t here, and he’s the one I wanted to really see.   I’m very fond of Joe and Hoss,  but, although it’s great fun to know that Joe is on the mend at last, once he’s up and about he’ll be busy on the ranch, like his Pa and Hoss are, so he won’t have much time for me.   Anyway,  you’ll be getting married soon -”

 

“Married?” Barbara blushed.

 

“Yes, once Adam comes back.”  Peggy frowned, “I know that it may be a while yet, but he’ll come back, you’ll get married and settle down together.  There’s really no point in my being here anymore.”

 

“When do you think you’ll go home, Peggy?”

 

“Sometime this week, I think.  I’ll book my tickets tomorrow morning.”  she glanced over at Barbara, “You’ve been very quiet, Barbara, are you alright?”

 

“Yes, I’ve just got a lot to think about, that’s all.”

 

“You must miss him.   It’s a pity he can’t write to you, from wherever he is.  Ben was saying how hard it is to communicate with seamen.  He was a seaman himself once you know?”

 

Barbara said nothing to that, she concentrated on her food and nibbled  at some bread, sipped some coffee.   Then she looked thoughtfully at Peggy,

 

“Are you going to visit the Ponderosa today?”

 

“Yes, later on,” she smiled, “They’ve missed you, they always ask where you are, I think they got used to you being there at the weekends.”

 

“Perhaps so, but they don’t need me there now, do they?”

 

She rose to  her feet and left the room, and Peggy, left on her own,  was left to consider matters according to her own ideas.   

 

Barbara was staring out of the window when Peggy joined her a few minutes later.  She didn’t speak, nor turn although she must have heard Peggy entering the room.   Instead she kept her eyes on watching the people as they went about their business and kept her hands clasped tightly together within the folds of her skirts.

 

“I hope you don’t mind my saying this, although probably you will, but you seem to have changed since that dance last week.”

 

“Well, Peggy, if I have, it’s really none of your business is it?”

 

“I suppose not.   I just wanted to mention it, that’s all”  and without another word Peggy  hurried to the stairs and made a quick exit to her room,

 

Barbara walked away from the window and sat down.   She sat very still for a moment or two as she gathered her thoughts together.  It was true,  she had changed.  How could she explain that to Peggy when it was hard enough to explain it to herself?

 

………………………………..

 

Cleminson closed the door of the bedroom and walked into the other room.  It wasn’t difficult to sense the atmosphere between the couple and he wondered momentarily if the man in the other room may have been the cause of the restraint between them

 

“How is he?” Daniel cried, instantly upon his feet and his hair dishevelled from his habit of raking his fingers through it so much.

 

“Very unwell to be honest.    Injuries - consistent to a bad fall, broken ribs, one hand may have some small bones broken, bruising to his body, legs, shoulders.  Bad cut to the skull.”

 

“But he won’t die?”   Maria asked softly,  stepping closer to her husband, “Will he?”

 

“I wouldn’t like to think so, Madam.” he smiled, “I think it would be better if he were in a hospital here rather than keeping him here in the hotel.   I’m going  to send for an ambulance to take him to the hospital here, the doctor  is a personal friend of mine.”

 

“Id rather he -”  Daniel paused,  looked at the floor, “He’s the Captain of a ship in harbour here.  He should be on board there.”

 

“Is there a competent doctor on board?”

 

“No, not at present.” O’Brien groaned in response.

 

“Then it’s hardly sensible to suggest such a thing.  As you have placed him under my care, he’s my patient.   I shall arrange for him to be transported to the hospital right away.”

 

They could do nothing but watch him leave the suite and close the door behind him.  Daniel looked at his wife who was standing  nervously near him twisting at a dainty handkerchief that was now destined only for the fire.   He approached her, put his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his arms.

 

“I’m sorry, Maria.” he whispered and held her close, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Do you forgive me?   Please?”  she lifted her eyes up to his face, and tears trickled down  from her lashes.

 

He couldn’t speak.   There were too many conflicting emotions raging through him for him to put his thoughts into words.   He just held her close, and buried his face into his hair.  One thing he did know was that he could never bear to lose her, he loved her far too much.

 

In the other room Adam opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling of the room .  It was different from what  he had expected.   He moved slightly and felt the numb sensation of pain held at bay by some medication.   He raised his hand and saw the neat bandages that swathed it, touched his brow and rough bandages greeted his finger tips.   He closed his eyes.

 

His last thought as he drifted back into the comfort of that dark womb of unconsciousness was that he was home, and Doc Martin had been tidying him up - again.

 

……………………………..

 

Pelman sat at his desk and listened with a face that resembled that of the carved wooden Indians outside tobacconists shops as Jonas Thaler relayed the facts to him.  There was no sign of the Captain Cartwright anywhere in the building nor  on the Ainola.   Their men had turned the ship over thoroughly while Sergeant Duke Day and his Marines had stood by and watched.   Lieutenant O’Brien was also unavailable and had not been seen since leaving Pelman’s office earlier in the day.

 

“He can’t have disappeared.   He got out of that cellar, and someone must have seen him.” Pelman growled.

 

“We don’t know when he left the cellar -”  Thaler said quietly.

 

Pelman scowled,  he clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace the floor.  No one could disappear that thoroughly - could they?

Chapter 88

 

“What’s the matter, Peggy?   Cat got your tongue?”

 

Joe looked up from carefully braiding a new lariat and smiled over at his young companion who was eating an apple, reading a book and being very silent.  There had been a total dearth of conversation since her arrival and it seemed as if she had totally lost her former ‘joie de vivre’.   She scowled and looked at him as though he were the cause of all her troubles which only elicited a chuckle from him as he returned his attention to the lariat.

 

“That’s alright, my back is broad,” he chanted with a chuckle in his voice, “I don’t mind being blamed for whatever has gone wrong with your life.  No need to confide in me anyway.”

 

“Oh, it isn’t you, Joe.  I’m sorry.  I‘ve been really unsociable today haven’t I?”

 

“Yep, you have -” Joe nodded, and tugged the braid taut to ensure the pieces were all neatly in alignment.

 

“Well, you know I told you I was going to go back home this week?”

 

“I vaguely recall you mentioning it.” he glanced at her and winked, for the girl had wept as she had told him and he had been forced to give her a comforting hug and many assurances that they would keep in touch.

 

“I told Barbara today.”  she tossed the apple in the wood box and closed her book. 

 

“Oh, was she upset?”

 

“No.”  she leaned forward and shook her head,  “It’s as if she  really couldn’t care less.  Something’s wrong with her, Joe.”

 

Joe looked up and found himself confronted with a pretty little face all screwed up with freckles and disappointment.  He frowned,  raised his very expressive eyebrows, and shook his head,

 

“Perhaps she’s missing Adam more than we realised.   After all, we find it hard enough but it must be even harder for her, being a woman and having all those feelings for him.   It’s been some time since he left and although it’s not unusual for the mail to take a while reaching us, it’s even worse when a man’s at sea.”

 

“Joe, do you think she still loves him?”

 

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he smiled and put his hand on hers, “Isn’t that what they say?” 

 

She looked at him thoughtfully and wondered if, when she left, his heart would grow fonder.  Probably not, she told herself, Joe would have too many ladies to resume dating, and going to dances and work as well.  He would be more inclined to forget  her as soon as the stagecoach turned the corner.

 

“Joe, what if she doesn’t love him now?  Wouldn’t that be very hard for Adam to accept when he comes home and finds her not wanting to marry him after all?”

 

Joe flicked a look that conveyed some irritation at her.  He didn’t want to think that Barbara Scott would be faithless like Peggy’s mother had been, he didn’t want to imagine the hurt that Adam would experience, again.   He pursed his lips thoughtfully,  and recalled the time after Laura had married Will .   He remembered how Adam had reacted, almost as though his romance with Laura had happened to someone else.  Then there were others whom they had thought Adam would marry but had, like his own loves, faded away in may be more ways than one.    Adam had just immersed himself in work, new projects, new journeys, work and more work.   Joe looked at Peggy and shook his head,

 

“Let’s not go down that road, huh?   I don’t really want to think about it.”

 

“But don’t you think she’s changed?”

 

“I haven’t seen her for quite a while, Peg of my heart,” he quipped, “Perhaps then she has, I didn’t think she would stay away from the Ponderosa this long, considering how much time she spent here a while back.”

 

“I just wish Adam would come home right now and marry her right away.”  Peggy frowned, and then re-opened the book.

 

It was a pleasant scene, the young couple sitting on the porch together.  He in the old chair with the Navejo blanket cushioning the back, one foot on the edge of the planter while his hands braided the lariat, and his dark hair catching the sun’s rays as they played over his golden tanned skin.  His fingers worked deftly, and his eyes only occasionally glanced up to observe the girl seated on a chair near the table beside him.   Pretty in her pink skirt and white blouse, Peggy looked as young as she was, and quite sweet besides that with her blonde hair caught up in a ribbon at the nape of her neck.    They fell now into a  companionable silence with only the flutter of a page from the book to disturb them.

 

…………………………..

 

The brusque knock on the door brought Daniel to his feet and he smiled over at Maria,  who had also risen to her feet.

 

“That must be Cleminson and the men from the hospital,” he muttered and opened the door.

 

Both of them seemed to freeze to the spot as the sight of the man on the threshold chilled their blood.   Daniel eventually moved to close the door, but Pelman put his foot  in the gap and pushed it open.

 

“Good to see you again, Lieutenant.” he turned to Maria and swept off his hat, “My dear lady, how lovely you look so deshabille.  You look like Aphrodite rising from the sea -”

 

Maria shrunk back and pulled her jacket closer around her as though to protect herself from any observations of his, but then he turned to Daniel with a smile and shrug,

 

“No point in waiting for an ambulance, sir, I told the doctor that there would be no need for one.  This is a military affair and we take care of our own.” he glanced once again at Maria, “Don’t we, my dear?”

 

“I - we - don’t want you here, Commodore.” she said as calmly as she possibly could, “Please leave our room.”

 

“We?  Our?” Pelman raised his eyebrows, “Oh,  has some pact been made between our two love birds?  Is all forgiven between you both?  How sweet and how noble.”   he stepped further into the room before pausing and observing them both.

 

“Commodore, I don’t know why you’re here, but as Maria said, please leave the room.”

 

“Not until I have what I came here for,” Pelman frowned and looked thoughtfully at Maria, “Does your husband know about the list of names you found in the Captain’s study?   Does he know that your name was on the list?”

 

“I know -” Daniel said immediately and stepped closer to Maria who looked as though she were about to start crying again.  “It doesn’t matter to me.”

 

“Well now, that’s interesting.” Pelman frowned again, “Perhaps I was mistaken in you, O’Brien, perhaps your name should have been put on the list as well?”

 

Daniel felt the anger mounting within him and he turned away as though to reopen the door but Pelman gripped his arm and prevented him from doing so.

 

“You had every chance to make something of yourself, O’Brien.  When you refused that commission you signed your court martial papers.”

 

“Nonsense, Pelman, you can’t court martial me.   There’s nothing I’ve done wrong, nothing that you can accuse me of that would see me standing trial.  On the other hand -”

 

“Yes?”

 

“On the other hand I have enough information about you to see you hanged.” and he pulled his arm free with a look of such repugnance on his face for  his former Senior Officer that Pelman was both surprised and angered.

 

“I want the documents and the man you have hidden away here.  Immediately.” he demanded, looking at both with such a cold look of hatred on his face that Maria stepped back in alarm.

 

As she did so she inadvertently collided with a small table which toppled over and landed with a crash upon the floor, the ornament which adorned it smashed sounding much like a pistol going off in the room

 

In the other room Adam stirred, opened his eyes and concentrated on the sounds around him.  The low murmur of voices, a thud as though someone or something had fallen to the floor or against a wall.   He pushed himself into a sitting position and instinctively reached out for his gun.  It wasn’t there, where he customarily would have placed it.  Anxiously he looked around for it and then saw a pistol that had been placed casually upon  a nearby table, over which his jacket had been draped and his boots placed beside it.

 

He had reached it and was checking the chamber when the door opened and Pelman stood in the aperture with a satisfied smirk on his face.  

 

“Captain -” he pressed his hands together, a subconscious expression of smug self congratulation, “We’ve been looking for you.  So?    Here you are -”

 

“So it would seem -” Adam replied, and took the safety catch off the gun.  

 

“Are you going to give me what I want or do I have to -” Pelman pursed his lips, stroked his chin, and turned his head slightly to reveal Maria held fast by the arms in the hands of a tall Marine who looked quite confident in his role as Pelman’s associate.   Behind them Adam could just glimpse the body of O’Brien on the floor.

 

“What have you done with O’Brien?”

 

Pelman gave a croak of a laugh, and shook his head,

 

“Cartwright, does it really matter?   Just give me the documents or tell me the whereabouts of the documents and I promise you this charming couple can go free.”

 

Adam cleared his throat,  he had to narrow his eyes slightly to keep everyone in focus, and his mouth was dry.   He raised his bandaged hand to his brow as though he had to pause a while to think about Pelman’s suggestion.   Pelman waited, one hand now in his jacket pocket and the other studying the time on his watch. 

 

Pelman looked thoughtfully at his opponent who was seated on the edge of a crumpled bed, unkempt, unshaven, eyes sunken in their sockets and darkly shadowed, and obviously so weak that he could barely hold the gun that was in his hand. 

 

“I see you still have my pistol.  A pity you didn’t use it.” he said smugly, “Now then -” he looked at the Marine who yanked Maria’s head back by her hair so sharply that she was  unable to avoid the cry that came involuntarily from her throat.

 

“Don’t - don’t hurt me - please - don’t hurt me.” she started to beg,  and the tears trickled down her face and she started to shake uncontrollably.

 

Adam spun the chamber of the gun with his bandaged hand and then raised it so that it pointed at Pelman.

 

“You’re a big target, Commodore.   I won’t miss at this range.” he said quietly, “Let the woman go.”

 

“Now you’re being stupid, something I didn’t expect from you,  Captain.” Pelman shrugged,  “Apart from which you seem to have forgotten that there’s only one bullet in that gun.”

 

Adam said nothing.  His bandaged hand spun the chamber again, and he raised it to point at Pelman.

 

“Never heard of Russian Roulette, Commodore?”  he raised his eyebrows questioningly and could see Pelman looking baffled,  Maria was now whispering ‘Please, please’ like a litany and the Marine was looking uncertainly at Adam and then Pelman.  “You only need one bullet for the game.   You see - I point the gun at you and -”

 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Pelman laughed, although without any mirth, his eyes were watchful and nervous, flicking from Adam to the Marine to Maria.

 

“Bang” Adam said and pulled the trigger.

 

Even Maria was quiet, her eyes wide as she stared at Adam in horror.  Behind her Adam could see O’Brien beginning to stir, a movement of the leg, a muffled groan.

 

“Put the gun down, Adam.   I’m ordering you as your Senior in Command -”

 

Adam spun the cylinder once more, his face remained impassive.  He raised the gun and pointed it at Pelman

 

“If you don’t put the gun down I’ll have the Marine break her neck -”

 

Adam pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows and pulled the trigger.      Maria was now shaking with fear, her long coils of hair fell over her shoulders and her face, and her skirts were rustling from the amount of trembling in her legs.

 

“One more time -” Adam said and raised the gun.

 

Pelman could see the gun’s barrel aimed at his chest and stepped back.    He gestured to the Marine to release Maria who collapsed in tears upon the floor.   Uncertain now as to what to do Pelman gave Adam a long hard stare before turning and walking out of the suite, followed by the Marine who was looking rather uncertainly at Adam.

 

As the door closed Adam said  ’Bang’ and pulled the trigger.      Then he slipped back the safety catch and tossed the gun onto the chair.   O’Brien was standing at the door of the room,  his eyes alternating between Adam and Maria, and then, having decided that his wife needed some reassurance he knelt by her side and placed his arm around her shoulders, then he looked at Adam with a wry smile.

 

“That was a risk, Adam.”

 

“Life, it seems, at the moment, to be full of them, O’Brien.” Adam replied with a shrug of the shoulders, “Any  chance of some coffee?”

 

“As soon as I get Maria comfortable.” O’Brien replied and carried his wife to the settee in the sitting room.   He smoothed her hair, kissed her brow, forced his hands free from her grasp and then returned to Adam having poured out some rather lukewarm coffee.   Adam gratefully seized it and then looked up with a smile at his friend,

 

“Don’t worry, the gun wasn’t loaded.”

 

“I wish it had been -” Daniel replied soberly and pulled a chair closer to the bed.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“As though I’ve gone ten rounds wrestling with my brother Hoss.” Adam replied and placed the cup on the table before sinking back into the bed.

 

“He’ll be back.    With re-enforcements.”

 

“May be.  But there’s no point in you staying here, is there?   Take a weeks leave, Lieutenant.” Adam closed his eyes and flung his arm over his face, “Take your wife with you.”

 

“Adam - Captain?”  O’Brien paused, “About Maria -”

 

“I know.   Her name’s on the list.  Perhaps I should have told you but there were other things happening at the time.   There seemed little point in bothering you about it then.”  Adam frowned, “Can you get me a cab?  I need to get out of here.”

 

“There’s a doctor here, he wanted to get you to the local hospital - don’t you think -”

 

“No,” Adam shook his head slowly, “No, I don’t think so.   Horrible places hospitals - dirty and over crowded.   I’m going back to the Ainola.   Is Sergeant Day still there?” 

 

“I should imagine so.   About Maria -”

 

“Maria’s your wife, Daniel.”  Adam replied quietly, “I’ve other things to think about at the moment and - to be honest - I’m really too tired.    Just you deal with her - as you feel fit.”   he closed his eyes, “Return to the ship in a weeks time -”

 

He couldn’t continue.  He’d run completely out of steam.   Every muscle ached and every ache was a pain.  

Chapter 89

 

Sergeant Day hovered over the bed while his Captain wrote something down on a scrap of paper, handed it to him with a thoughtful expression on his face.

 

“The man you give this to will probably be Tom Selby.  Tell him Adam Cartwright wants this sent off to the Ponderosa immediately.  He’ll understand -” his lips twitched into a wry smile “I think he’s kinda gotten used to it.”

 

“I’ll see to it right away, Captain.”

 

“Make sure you’re not followed -”  he would have said to be careful but knew that one didn’t say that kind of thing to a Marine after having given them an order.

 

Daniel stepped forward now

 

“Any orders for me, Captain?”  his handsome face looked weary, emotionally drained.  Adam had seen that self same look on Joe’s face too often not to recognise it now and he narrowed his eyes in consideration,

 

“I thought you were on a week’s leave, Lieutenant?”

 

“No, sir.    Someone had to bring you back to the Ainola.” O’Brien forced a smile to his lips,  but somehow it seemed difficult to enjoy banter between himself and Adam now, it seemed as though there had been a barrier erected between them by their own knowledge of Maria’s actions.

 

Adam glanced thoughtfully at his second in command and then looked around the cabin to see a long faced young man skulking in the rear, O’Brien immediately volunteered the information that this was Doctor Cleminson from the hotel.  He had insisted on accompanying them to the ship to ensure Adam’s safety.

 

“I see.” Adam replied in his deep clipped voice and he thanked Cleminson very much but assured him that he was now well and had no need of any doctors on board the Ainola.

 

“ I have to differ, sir.   You’ve -”

 

“Some cuts and bruises no doubt,” Adam frowned, “I do appreciate all you have done and can assure you all I need now is to sleep.  I’m really very tired.” he raised his eyebrows and looked at them both as they stood before him.  “Daniel, you need to go and take care of your wife.  Take her somewhere safe, somewhere a long way from here.”

 

“I - I’ve already dealt with that matter, sir.” Daniel replied and if his voice were a trifle deeper than usual Adam appeared not to notice but gave him a long thoughtful look before turning to the Doctor,

 

“Thank you once again, Doctor.” he nodded to indicate that was the end of the matter and Cleminson, with a sigh, picked up his bag and turned to leave, “Send me your bill.”

 

“Yes.  Thank you, Captain.”

 

The Doctor left the cabin, stooping a little to clear the door.   Daniel hovered and looked at Adam who was now fully stretched out on his bed, his eyes closed.   He bowed his head and sighed, then turned to go

 

“Daniel?”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

He turned to see Adam observing him from the bed, two dark eyes stood out from the paler  than usual face with the dark bruise upon the cheek bone.

 

“Would it have helped if you had known about Maria earlier?”

 

Daniel considered for a moment and stepped closer to the bed,

 

“No, sir.  Not really.  It would have been a distraction from other things.”

 

“And - are you both alright?  I mean -” Adam sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to plant his feet upon the floor, “I mean, has she explained her involvement satisfactorily to you?”

 

“As best as she is able.” Daniel replied hesitantly, “There are some things that need further explanation but -”  he bit his lip, “she was very young and impetuous, her cousin was Jack Lawson -”

 

“Jack Lawson?” Adam’s eyebrows shot up and he gave a low whistle, narrowed his eyes, “Then I should imagine it was Jack’s brother who would have worked on her more, Jack lacked the initiative to have done that effectively.  He was more a follower than an instigator.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Daniel nodded.  “I don’t think Maria realised until recently just how much harm was attached to what was happening.   She thought she was involved in something  - well - a bit romantic perhaps, and she knew she was protecting her father from harm.  That was what she was told anyway.”  he frowned thoughtfully, “I get the impression that after a while, when she realised the connection between Pelman and myself, that she could advance my cause with him.    He offered me a commission for a Captaincy.”  he looked up into Adam’s face and saw the intense way Adam was listening, the pursed lips the furrowed brow and hooded eyes, all indicative of wrought attention.

 

“It’s a pity.” Adam said after a while, “They manipulated a young impressionable girl to do what they wanted and now you are left with the consequences.”

 

“Yes, sir.”   Daniel nodded.

 

“Have you forgiven her?” Adam looked at his friend, “I’m sorry if that’s an intrusion into your privacy, O’Brien,  but if you want to salvage your marriage then you will need to forgive her.”

 

“She committed treason -”

 

“Hardly treason -”

 

“She stole from you -”

 

“Under intimidation.”

 

“She deceived me.”

 

“Ah, well -” Adam’s eyes flicked up to look again at O’Brien, “Only you can deal with that issue to your mutual satisfaction.”

 

“I do love her but -”

 

Adam left the silence to hang in the air for a while before he began to loosen his cravat with his good hand, and O’Brien thinking the interview over turned to leave, not without giving his Captain a very smart salute.

 

“Daniel, I really do think you need to get your wife away from here.  Pelman has a long arm - at present.”

 

Again, O’Brien paused at the doorway and turned to look at his Captain, he nodded

 

“I know.  As I said, I have made arrangements about that already.”

 

“Are you going with her?”

 

“I thought  you would require my services still but if  you prefer that I leave now, sir, then I shall go.”

 

“You are on a week’s leave.” Adam frowned and swung his legs up onto the bed. 

 

“My wife is leaving this evening for Paris.  She has friends there with whom she is staying.  I met a friend of ours who agreed to take her when they sailed -”   his throat thickened and he stammered over the last few words.

 

“Then you had better get there to say your goodbyes.  When you return, and if Duke is back by then,  take the Ainola out of the bay.   How many men do we have on board?”

 

“Fifty, including ourselves and the Marines - a skeleton crew.”

 

“But sufficient.  That’s good.  Thank you, Daniel.”  he sighed, closed his eyes and Daniel left the cabin.

 

O’Brien stood outside the door and heaved in a deep breath.   No matter how understanding Adam had been there was certainly a restraint between them.  He really felt that the friendship that had existed previously, was no more.  He hurried across the deck, down the gangplank and walked along the harbour to where the clipper ship bound for Paris was berthed.

 

…………………………..

 

Mrs Selby scowled darkly at the tall thick set Marine as she opened the door,

 

“Don’t you know it’s Sunday?”

 

“My apologies, Ma’am.   I have an urgent telegraph that must be sent off right now.  Is your husband here?”

 

“No, he isn’t  -” Mrs Selby snapped and was about to close the door when Duke saw the dark shape of a man hovering in the doorway behind the woman,

 

“Mr Selby?  Ian Selby?”

 

Grumbling beneath her breath Mrs Selby stepped back for her husband to appear and listen to the Marines request.  He took the slip of paper and frowned,

 

“Adam Cartwright did you say?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

Ian nodded and led the way to another door  through which was the Telegraph Offices.   He put on his peaked cap - as this was official business - and sat behind the counter.  He glanced again at Duke, and sighed,

 

“Mrs Selby sometimes gets on her dignity.  She’s not happy about living above the business.”

 

“That’s alright, sir, I understand.”

 

“This cable won’t be delivered until the morning.”

 

“Quite understood, sir.”

 

Ian nodded and began to tap out the message.   Ben didn’t know it but he was in for a Monday full of surprises …

 

………………………..

 

Adam slept deeply.   To his way of thinking anything could be cured it one slept well and long.   Once one could get through the nuisance of dreams and settle deep into the darker and more healing sleep, he was convinced he would awaken feeling fresh and energetic.   He slept so deeply that when Duke arrived to inform him that the cable had been sent he had to lean close to Adam to make sure he was still breathing.

 

Daniel bade his farewells to his wife.  It was hard to let her go,  to see the thick veil over her face to hide the swollen eyes and the tears that were still being shed.   He kissed her tenderly and assured her that as soon as time permitted he would join her.

 

Eventually she left him and hurried to her cabin where she threw herself upon her bed and sobbed anew.  She had slipped a little letter into his hand before parting, a letter in which she begged him again to forgive her, and to be assured of her deepest love.  A tear stained the corner and smudged some words.

 

Daniel felt as though his world was being turned upside down and inside out.  He left the little ship and began to walk with weary steps back to the Ainola.   As he reached the gangplank a man detached himself from the shadows, and took off his hat,

 

“Lieutenant?   Can I speak with you and your Captain - on a matter of great urgency?”

 

Daniel took a step backwards, opened his mouth as though to shout for assistance from Duke, then paused as Jonas Thaler stepped towards him.

 

 

Chapter 90

 

Adam was startled awake by someone shaking his shoulder, he tried to shrug them off while half asleep but it continued so he finally forced open his eyes and struggled to focus them upon Daniel’s anxious face.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“We’ve a visitor -”  Daniel murmured and stepped aside to let Thaler advance into the cabin. 

 

“Turn up the lamp, Daniel -”  Adam  blinked, forced his eyes open and peered at Thayer, “Oh -  so it is Mr Thaler.   What are you doing here?  Where’s Pelman?  You two are usually closely attached aren’t you?”

 

“Pelman doesn’t know I’m here.” Thaler said quietly, but with an air of self confidence that was more irritating than anything else about his demeanour,  he looked at Adam before tossing his hat onto a table and taking a seat.

 

“Well, why are you here Mr Thaler?” Adam asked wearily and rubbed some life into his face with his unbandaged hand.

 

“I’d like to apologise first of all for my part in causing you any personal injury.”

 

“Very kind I’m sure, very untrue I’m also sure -” Adam muttered in a deep tone of voice, “What did you really come to say, Thaler?”

 

“Pelman’s panicking.  You were right this morning when you said that, he’s scared.  He wants those documents or, at least, to know that the documents have been destroyed.” Thaler glanced over his shoulder at O’Brien “Is it safe to talk in front of him?”

 

Adam cast his eyes up to look at Daneil and nodded,

 

“I’d trust Lieutenant O’Brien with my life, Thaler, so continue with what you were saying.”

 

“He had a telegram to say that the President was paying us a visit, would be due here any day.   He wants the documents.  Pelman -”  Thaler brushed off some dust, imagined or real, from his pants, “he doesn’t want the President to have them of course.  If he can’t produce them he has to have a good reason why not.  He received the letter that Grant had written to you.  It was given him my Mrs O’Brien -” he glanced over at Daniel, a slight sneer on his face, “with the list of names you must have had translated.  Pelman’s assuming you had the other documents translated as well.”

 

“He’s wrong.”

 

“He wouldn’t believe you about that, Captain.”

 

“So exactly what are you here for?”

 

“To warn you.   Pelman won’t give the documents to Grant even if he gets possession of them.   He’ll need a scapegoat -” he looked thoughtfully at Adam, “he reckons on pinning the blame on you.”

 

“That’s logical.  I already know all that anyway.”  Adam shrugged, pulled a wry face, “It isn’t difficult to understand how Pelman thinks - he’s made a mess of things and like all men of his intelligence he has to cast around to blame someone and offer them up as the sacrificial lamb.   Well, it won’t work this time -”  Adam looked down at his bandaged hand, then at Thaler, “So what else have  you come here for?”

 

“I could help you.”

 

“How?”

 

“I know things about Pelman that could be useful to you.”

 

“I see.” Adam coughed, shrugged, “Close the door on your way out, Thaler.  Daniel, make sure he’s off the ship within five minutes.”

 

“What do you mean?  I’m offering you a chance to get off the hook.”

 

“Thaler, I’m not on any hook.   Now, just go away.”

 

“Cartwight,  think for a moment about what I’m offering.   Think of the list - you didn’t see my name on that list, did you?”  Thaler’s eyes lit up with pride at thinking of such a thing on the spur of the moment but the light soon dimmed as Adam just looked at him as though he had suddenly smelt something foul in the cabin,

 

“Mr Thaler, Hugh Williamson’s name was not on the list as Hugh Williamson -”  he said, “Your name is irrelevant.   Now, it seems to me that you’re panicking even harder than Pelman.  You’ve come here to strike a deal so that when the crunch comes on Pelman you already have a safe berth with us.  It won’t work, Thaler.”

 

“President Grant will want those documents and you won’t be able to give them to him - aren’t I right?    What do you think he’ll have to say about that?    I could give you -”

 

“Nothing.  Nothing at all.”  Adam exhaled a deep sigh and shook his head, “Go away, little man, go back to the rat that sent you.”

 

“Pelman didn’t send me -”

 

“Well, you had best make sure he doesn’t find out you came here of your own accord, hadn’t you?”

 

Thaler went red, his swagger had gone now, he picked up his hat and scampered out of the cabin, casting a long last look at Adam who was leaning forward to lower the flame in the lamp,

 

“You’ll regret this.”

 

“Mm,  g’night, Thaler.”

 

Daniel paused at the doorway and looked at the Captain,

 

“Thank you for what you said about me, Captain.”

 

“It was true, Daniel.  You’ve proved it time and again.” and Adam gave his friend a warm smile, “When he’s left the ship, cast off into the bay.  Then set up a night watch.  Turn in and get some sleep.”

 

“Yes, sir.  Thank you.”

 

The lamp was extinguished.  He heard Adam ‘s bed creak and a silence follow.  He quietly closed the door.

 

…………………………..

 

The stage coach rocked back and forth on its suspension and the driver clambered down to open the door.    The seamstress came out first, clutching her hat that had fallen over one eye during the coach’s coming to a stop.   Then came the fat lady, wheezing a little and waving a handkerchief too and fro under her nose.   William bounced down next followed by Jamieson.

 

Everyone milled about for a while, getting their bearings and wondering where to go to next.  Then the seamstress went one way and the fat lady went the other.  Jamieson put his hand upon Williams shoulder,

 

“Guess we’ve arrived, son.  This is Virginia City.”

 

The driver grinned at them both, tossed down the canvas bag to them, which Jamieson caught deftly enough.   William frowned,

 

“Guess I had better deliver my letter while I’m here, sir.”

 

“I think so, William.  I’ll go over and see if I can hire a buggy and driver to take us to the Ponderosa.”

 

They parted company, with William running in the direction of  the main street and asking a woman for the directions to the school house.  It was Monday morning, nearly noon time.  It couldn’t have been a better sunnier morning to arrive in Virginia City.  The smell of horse dung hadn’t got too bad, and the noise from the mines wasn’t too deafening.   There was music playing from the honky tonk players and quite a bit of hollering from the saloons.  

 

He turned in the direction of the school  house and hurried along the high street, taking the turning to the hill that led to the white washed building.   He paused half way up the hill and turned to look down at the way he had come.  He couldn’t remember what it was like to live in a town,  having been at sea since a boy of ten years of age.   It was all alien territory and so noisy.   He turned and continued onwards to the school.

 

The lady who sat at the desk reading from a book was pretty.   Her hair was drawn back into a neat chignon,  and there were wispy curls near her ears.  As he began to walk down the centre aisle he found himself the centre of attention as every eye turned towards him.   The teacher looked up and observed him thoughtfully, very seriously.

 

“Is there something you wanted?”  she asked him in a rather imperious tone of voice.  “Are you a new student?”

 

“No, ma’am.”

 

“Well then, what are you doing here?”  Barbara stood up and surveyed him anxiously.  “Are you sure you’re not a new student?  How old are you?”

 

“Fourteen.  But I ain’t the new student.  I’m the Captain’s steward.  He said to bring this to you.” and he hurried the last few steps up the aisle and passed her the letter that Adam had found so difficult to write so long - or it seemed so long - ago.

 

“From Adam?” she gasped, and her face changed colour as she stared at the writing on the envelope.

 

There was a murmur in the classroom that became louder by the minute.  William looked around him in concern, and then looked at her,

 

“He said to give it to you right as soon as we got into town.”

 

“How is he?  Is he alright?”  she asked and then turned to the children “Enough noise, now.  Enough” and then “Go and have your lunch time recess now.”

 

She waited until the last child had gone, and William, sensible boy that he was, waited also.  She repeated the question and Williams’ face creased a little as he concentrated on what he was saying,

 

“The Captain was shot bad.  Took really ill.   Mr Jamieson and me, we helped pull him through alright though.   He’s going to be alright now.  He was most particular that you got this letter, Miss.”

 

“Is he in town?”

 

“No, Miss, Ma’am, he’s on board ship.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“I have to go now, Miss, I gotta go with Mr Jamieson to the Ponderosa where the Captain used to live.”

 

“Of course, thank you.”

 

She watched him go and as soon as the door closed she sunk down on the bench closest to her.   She wasn’t sure what to do about the letter.  She held it in her hands and stared down at the writing and felt her breathing going faster and faster, and her heart beating quicker.   She closed her eyes and put a cold hand to her brow,

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Looking up she saw Ben Cartwright looking down at her, his hat in one hand and his other hand stretched out towards her, about to touch her shoulder in kindly comfort.

 

“Yes.  I’m alright.” she whispered.

 

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

“No, no,”  she shook her head, forced a smile, “Nothing like that.”

 

She had slipped the letter into her pocket, hopeful that he hadn’t seen it.  She couldn’t think straight, and looked at him as though wondering why he was there, Ben, realising her predicament smiled,

 

“I was in town this morning and just came by to see if you were alright, Barbara.  It seems a while since you visited us at the Ponderosa.  Young Peggy’s been a good reliable visitor but we’ve missed you.”

 

“Thank you, Ben, that’s very kind of you to say that -”

 

“No, no, I mean it.” he smiled and put his hand on her arm  “We’re very fond of you, my dear.  I can’t tell you how pleased I am particularly that Adam -” he paused, “Well,  when he gets home -”

 

“I understand.” she forced a smile, “I have to get on with work, Ben-”

 

“Of course” he smiled his warm smile, and she returned it sincerely, in fact she leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.  

 

His footsteps were still ringing on the wooden  flooring as she ripped open the envelope and pulled the letter free, smoothed it upon her lap and began to read it.

 

A light tapping on the door as she was half way through the letter caused her to put it back into its envelope and rise to her feet.   Andrew Pearson was opening the door as she did so and stood there, for a moment, framed in the doorway.  

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked in a kindly voice, “I saw Ben Cartwright just now -”

 

“Yes, he came to see me.   Andrew, I have received a letter from Adam.”

 

“Oh, I see -” the brow crinkled and the mouth changed from a smile to a grimace.

 

“I - I think he’s telling me that I’m free from my obligations to him.” she pulled the letter out again and re-read it as he walked towards her, and when he was at her side she looked up at him, “He said if chance brought someone else into my life -”

 

He said nothing, nor did she.  Neither could speak.   His hand cupped her chin and raised it so that her lips keep meet his …

 

………………………………...

 

Ben had just tethered Buck to the hitching rail outside the General Store, when he heard his name being halloo’dHe turned to see the Telegraph Clerk running towards him, waving a slip of paper between his fingers.

 

“A cable came first thing this morning, Mr Cartwright.”

 

“Oh Thank you, Eddy.”  Ben smiled and reached out a hand to take it.   He hated cables, there was always a sense of something not quite right about them.

 

“I would have sent my boy to the Ponderosa with it but recalled you would be in today.”

 

He wiped his hands down the back of his pants, eager to see the reaction on Ben’s face when he read the words written upon the paper.  He wasn’t disappointed.  Ben’s eyes opened wide and he gave a shout of delight, then he re-read the cable again to make sure -

 

PA stop AINOLA  BERTHED ‘FRISCO  stop  LETTERS SENT URGENT COURIER  stop  ADAM

 

………………………………................

 

There was only one person in town he could think of who would be as delighted as himself.  He unhitched his horse and mounted the saddle, and galloped through the main street to the school house.  He ignored the other horse hitched to the rail, just hurriedly slung the reins over the rail and hurried up the steps to the door.  He turned to  look at the children as he pushed the door open and then smiled as he entered the school room.

 

Then he froze, his smile slipped from his face as he watched Andrew and Barbara break their embrace and stare back at him in embarrassed horror.

 

“I - Barbara -” he paused, the words stuck in his throat.  Adam - betrayed again.   Someone so respectable and pleasant.  He shook his head, failed to disguise his disgust and turned to hurry out of the building,  slamming the door behind him.

 

“Ben -”  Barbara cried but Andrew grabbed her hand, “I have to explain -”

 

“You don’t have to explain anything, Barbara.”

 

“But he’s doesn’t understand -”

 

“Barbara - we don’t need any Cartwright’s permission to fall in love.”  Andrew murmured, and drew her back into his arms.

 

Chapter 91.

 

Joseph Cartwright was parading Cochise round in the corral by a leading rein.   It was just good to be able to stand and walk, and to be able to lead Cooch out of the stable and exercise him like this; it not only exercised the horse but strengthened Joe’s legs.  He could only stand for twenty minutes at a time, but it was enough.  He turned at the sound of a buggy driving into the yard and then paused altogether when two strangers peered at him over Hank’s shoulder.

 

“Hi Joe,  these here strangers wanted me to brung ‘em over to the Ponderosa.  They need to see your Pa.”

 

“Pa’s in town.”  Joe released Cooch from the leading rein and looped it over his arm before limping towards the corral fence, “Can I be of any help, gents?”

 

“I really need to see Mr Ben Cartwright.” Jamieson said with concern written all over his face.

 

“Well, he won’t be long.”  Joe grinned, “Why not come on inside and have some coffee, the young ‘un can have some of Hop Sing’s lemonade.”

 

Jamieson and William looked at one another, nodded and clambered down, pulled their bag from the buggy, paid the driver and then followed Joe into the house while Hank turned the buggy and drove off.

 

“Hop Sing -”  Joe yelled as he walked into the cool interior of the house, “We’ve guests.”  then he paused and turned to look at their guests, “I’m sorry, I’m Joe Cartwright.” he extended his hand and Jamieson shook it, then William in an odd quaint manner.

 

“Jeffrey Jamieson.”

 

“William Hucknell.”

 

“Well, that’s good - introductions over.” Joe grinned again, and looked over at Hop Sing who had appeared now, “Hop Sing, some coffee and lemonade - and cookies. Thanks, Hop Sing.” he grinned and winked at their cook, who disappeared into the kitchen wiping his hands on his apron as he did so.

 

“So?   Mr Jamieson and Mr Hucknell, what can I do for you both?  Or  would you rather wait for my Pa to come back?    Do sit down, by the way.”  he smiled his charming smile and watched them both as they took their seats.

 

William was looking around the house with wide awed eyes.  He had never seen a place like it before, not as a home.  He had been on shore leave at times and seen some wonderful castles and other buildings but this was a home, his Captain’s home, and it was just so different from anything he had imagined.

 

Jamieson just sat with his hands gripping the canvas bag and his brow furrowed.  He had once possessed a house just as grand in Charleston,  it had been the home he had been born in and reared in, and he had taken his wife to it upon their marriage, and there his three children had been born.    But the war had stolen all that from him, all the joy of home and family.  He sighed bitterly as the memory of the blazing house, the charging soldiers chasing more soldiers across his grounds, the cannon and the explosions all reared up horribly into his mind.

 

“Mr Jamieson?”  Joe asked for the third time and wondered if his guest, one of them anyone, had escaped from a mad house.

 

“I’m sorry,”  Jamieson cleared his throat, accepted the cup of coffee from  Joe’s hands and sighed deeply, banishing his ghosts back to where they came from, deep in the recesses of his mind.  “I’m your brother’s orderly on board the Ainola.  This is William, Midshipman -”

 

“Captain’s steward., you mean -” William said scornfully.

 

Joe listened, heard and then went through it in his brain because it all suddenly seemed more unreal than it possibly could be, then he jumped up with a great exclamation of delight

 

“You mean - Adam’s back?  He’s back?”

 

“No, I mean, yes, kind of in a way -” Jamieson mumbled.

 

“Well, where is he?  Riding home I suppose - has he met up with Pa in town?” Joe’s eyes were wet, he wiped them on the back of his hand and realised his nose was running as well, so that was wiped on his sleeve, “You couldn’t have brought better -” he paused, looked at them both and frowned, “He is alright, isn’t he?” he felt a flutter of anxiety gnaw at the back of his mind.  His face went from one to the other of them and he gulped back a thickening in the throat, “He is, isn’t he?”

 

“Yes,  sir, he’s alright.   He’s - well  - it was a rough assignment.”

 

“We went to Alaska.” William said excitedly, “Just about as cold as could be I reckon.  The Captain was mighty ill -”

 

“Shush -” Jamieson dug him in the ribs.

 

“Adam never liked the cold much -” Joe said quietly, sinking back into the big leather chair, “He - he was alright when you left him, wasn’t he?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Jamieson said firmly and looked at William very sternly.  “He gave us some letters for you all, and for your Pa.”

 

“Why couldn’t he come home with you?  Why’d he have to stay there?  San Francisco isn’t it?”

 

“Yes, sir.  He’ll explain it all in his letters, sir.”

 

Joe stood up and clapped his hands together, and grinned,

 

“Wait till Pa comes home, hot diggitty, he’ll be that excited.  And letters, did you say?”  he laughed and hurried into the kitchen, “Hop Sing?  Guess what?  Adam’s back - well - almost -  and our guests will be staying here awhile, so cook up a real good feast, huh?”

 

“I make plenty big feast -” Hop Sing exclaimed and disentangled himself from Joe’s hands as the young man had grabbed him by the arms and attempted a jig around the table with him.  “Now you go ‘way, no more jiggering and pokering, I go cook, all time I cook.”

 

………………………..

 

O’Brien had left Adam to sleep throughout the hours of morning.  The decks had been holystoned, ropes refurled, brass fittings polished.  The Ainola was anchored far out in the bay where no one could sneak up upon her and no man could creep aboard her.   He sat in the chair opposite the low bed upon which Adam lay, and wrote out his report, occasionally glancing up to look at the man sleeping opposite him.

 

Occasionally Adam had groaned in his sleep, no doubt when he had moved and the ribs had pained him, or he had lain awkwardly upon his injured hand.   In the main he had slept soundly and opened his eyes to a sunlit cabin at mid-day.

 

He rubbed his face, yawned, started a long stretch and groaned.  Then he saw O’Brien watching him and smiled,

 

“Good morning, O’Brien, or is it afternoon?”

 

“Mid-day, Adam.   Time for something to eat?”  O’Brien replied, putting down the report with the pen and ink, and rising to his feet, “The cook wanted to prepare you something special for lunch -”

 

“Oh,  excellent.” Adam shook his head, passed his fingers through his hair and blinked rather like an owl as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the cabin.  “Are you alright, Daniel?   No regrets about any decisions you have had to make?” he looked earnestly at his friend who shook his head,

 

“No regrets, sir.”  he replied and smiled upon the realisation of just how light hearted he now felt about the matters that had, only hours earlier, weighed so heavily upon him.

 

……………………………….......

 

The sound of hoof beats brought Joe back to his feet and with a smile he hurried to open the door,

 

“Hey Pa, you’ll never guess -”

 

“Adam’s sent a cable -”  Ben laughed and waved the slip of paper, “He’s in San Francisco.”

 

“Yeah, sure -” Joe nodded and watched as his father dismounted and then looked up at him with a puzzled look on his face

 

“How did you know?”

 

“We’ve some visitors.”

 

“Visitors?”  Ben raised his eyebrows and his heart beat faster in anticipation.

 

“Two of Adams friends.” Joe  led the way into the room  and stepped aside for his father to enter and to see Jamieson and William who had risen to their feet out of respect in meeting with the father of  Adam Cartwright.

 

Ben regarded them both thoughtfully and then smiled,

 

“So - you know Adam?” 

 

He stood in the centre of the room with his hands on his hips and his dark eyes going from one to the other,  he smiled with particular warmth at William,  remembering the years of hardship he had endured on board ship at the boy’s age.  Jamieson promptly introduced themselves and Ben threw down his hat and gun belt on the bureau as he spoke, nodding all the while.

 

“How is Adam?” he asked as he settled himself down  into his chair, “Is he well?  Has everything gone as it should have done?”

 

Jamieson took a deep breath and explained briefly about the journey to Alaska, how the Captain left the ship with some men and returned barely alive.   How they were attacked by the Russians and finally made it to San Francisco.

 

“It’s a beautiful place, sir,” Jamieson said, “But it isn’t any place I’d like to go to again.”

 

“And  Adam is - has recovered?”  Ben asked with a slight quiver in his voice.

 

“Yes sir, not exactly 100 %, and I should know, having been his doctor - well - orderly for the past few weeks.” Jamieson frowned, “Fact is, sir, the Captain wanted me to bring you these letters.   But he said to give you this package first - he said it was urgent that you saw it first.”

 

Ben reached out and took the small package from Jamieson, looked up into the man’s face, then at the boy.  His eyes looked down at the small parcel and a smile suddenly appeared,

 

“Hey, Joseph,  remember last time he went away?  He sent a package then, didn’t he?” he grinned, his deep voice had the lilt of a man who was proud and happy, as he began to tear the paper.

 

“Shouldn’t we wait for Hoss before opening it, Pa?”

 

Ben paused, looked at Jamieson who was at that moment biting his bottom lip and watching Ben thoughtfully,

 

“Well, perhaps we should -” Ben said and was about to put it to one side when William piped up

 

“But you got to open it, the Captain said you was to open it right away.   He said you’d know what to do -”

 

“Well, “ Ben raised his dark eyebrows, and grinned “In that case I’ll open it right here and now.” and he pulled away the paper that had been so carefully wrapped around the documents by Adam that long ago day.

 

“What is it, Pa?”  Joe asked, leaning forward to see.

 

Ben grimaced and put down the strips of paper, one of which was blood stained and soiled.  He shook his head and then looked at Jamieson

 

“Do you know what they are?”

 

“Russian.”  Jamieson pointed to some words that he must have recognised or appeared familiar, “But I’d know it was Russian anyhow, seeing how it was them that were so eager to get hold of them all the time.    Mr O’Brien was delirious at some point and let slip a few things that otherwise he’d have never revealed even under torture.    Seems that Captain Cartwright had to get these documents from a lady in Alaska and then bring ’em to America and give ’em to the President.”

 

“What?  THE President?” Joe nearly fell off the arm of the settee, “As in President Grant?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“And did Adam say -”  Ben began to speak but Jamieson interrupted quickly,

 

“Captain Cartwright never mentioned them.    As I said, Mr O’Brien would not have said so much had he not been delirious with fever.   Nearly lost his arm to Butcher Williamson -”

 

“Who?”  Joe blinked rather rapidly.

 

“That’s what we called him in the sick bay.   Always pretending to be so kind and sweet talking when the Captain was there but quick to lop off any arm or leg he chose.”  Jamieson scowled and then shrugged, “Anyway,  Captain Cartwright soon sorted him out.”

 

“I think you’re going to be a very entertaining dinner guest, Mr Jamieson.” Ben chuckled, and then leaned back towards the table to look at the documents.  A piece of paper with his son’s writing on it was discovered among the wrapping paper that he had torn off in such haste earlier.  He smoothed it out and began to read

 

“My dear Pa

 

This is written in haste.  I am sending you these documents via a man I know I can trust.  I don’t know how you will do it, Pa, but I am asking you to help me in this respect.  Please get these documents to the President.  Don’t mail them.  Don’t entrust them to anyone other than Joe or Hoss.  I am sorry to have to involve you in this but I am - so to say - between the devil and the deep blue sea.     In haste - your ever loving son

Adam”

 

 

Chapter 92

 

“What do you think Pelman will do now?” 

 

Adam shrugged his shoulders and scratched his nose while a slight frown furrowed his brow.   He and O’Brien were leaning against the taffrail looking over to the city of San Francisco.    A harbour pilot boat had approached them to ask why they had left their berth and what had they intended upon doing, to which Adam had replied they were just waiting.   He didn’t say exactly what he was waiting for and the pilot seemed hesitant about asking for any more details, but touched his cap and returned to harbour.

 

It was his boat that they were now watching as it disappeared between two ships and reappeared closer to the quayside.  

 

“What would you do, Daniel?   He knows the President’s on his way here,  doesn’t know exactly when but hasn’t the documents to show him.”

 

“Doesn’t have you -?” O’Brien said with a smile

 

“No, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he’ll not accuse me of failing in getting them.   He could provide Grant with all manner of lying excuses -”  Adam chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment and sighed, “He’s got a lot to lose.”

 

“Have you ever met his wife?” 

 

“No.  Have you?”   Adam darted a quick look  at his friend and returned to stare at the buildings that teetered on the edge of the harbour.

 

“Once.   She’s used to good things in her life, she won’t want to lose out on them now.”

 

“Hmmm,”  Adam nodded and tapped with his fingers on the solid wood of the ships side, then glanced up at the masts, “She did pretty well on this last trip, didn’t she?”

 

“Yes, sir, she did.”

 

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sight of her sailing through the Bering Sea in all that snow.   She looked like a ghost ship -”

 

“I was more concerned about how cold I was feeling -” O’Brien chuckled.

 

They were silent for a while, staring down at the waters and their minds wandering to other things.  

 

“Pelman won’t let this rest.    That harbour pilot boat didn’t come out here just to enquire after our health -” Adam said eventually.

 

“Do you think we should return to our berth?”

 

“No.”

 

“What do you think Pelman would say about Thaler’s visit to us?” 

 

“If he knew about it -” Adam paused, “Odd  how people do that, run out on people.  He was prepared to sell Pelman out to us, and that can only mean that he could see that Pelman’s running scared.   He’ll do or say something  rash like most people do when they get scared.    Perhaps -”

 

“What?” O’Brien looked at his friend anxiously, watched the tell tale signs that something was brewing in Adam’s mind as he tugged his ear lobe,  narrowed his eyes and stared far beyond to the horizon as though the key to the problem was all there … out there … somewhere.

 

“I was just thinking that perhaps I should get back there, stay with some friends of my Pa’s.”

 

“What would that achieve?”

 

“Well, I don’t like waiting for things to happen, I feel like a sitting duck here.   If I was back on land I would feel more in control of what’s going on.    Pelman moves in society, he doesn’t sit in that office forever and a day, if he has a wife she likes to be out and about, entertaining, being entertained.   She will have been told about Grant’s visit, and she will be getting things organised socially -  won’t she?” again he turned to Daniel, and smiled.

 

“I guess she would be,” Daniel said slowly, “Do you intend to go alone?”

 

“Someone needs to stay here -”  Adam pursed his lips and twitched his nose as though to say ‘sorry,  but yes, I’m going alone.’

 

………………………………...

 

Ben was not too sure exactly what he should do nor how to go about it.  Any thought about Barbara and Andrew Pearson had long been forgotten in the wake of receiving the letter along with the documents from Adam.  He looked at the clock on the wall and chewed his nails, paid only half the attention he had and would have liked to have done, on the things Jamieson and William were telling them about some of the things that had happened on their voyage to Alaska.

 

It weighed heavily upon him that his eldest son had been put to such danger, had been so ill, and yet he had been so far away, so unattainable and beyond their help.   The responsibility of the documents and the task that Adam had placed upon him nagged at the back of his mind.   How was HE to find President Grant?   What if he undertook the journey all the way to Washington to find that Grant had gone travelling someplace else?   The list of ‘what if’s -’ piled higher than a stack of Hop Sing’s flapjacks before Hoss had had a chance to wade into them.

 

They had eaten a good lunch and were now seated in the main part of the room.   Joe had taken William to see the horses, even promised to teach him to ride, something William was not too sure he wanted to undertake but he liked Joe and was prepared to humour him.

 

Ben placed the documents on the table once again and then looked over at Jamieson who was looking at the medal that Adam had been awarded some years earlier,

 

“Mr Jamieson, do you have any idea what these papers are all about?”

 

“No, Mr Cartwright, none at all.  I only know what I have already told you.  The fact that the Captain has endured so many difficulties just getting them and bringing them here merely underlines the importance of them.   I recognised that they were written in Russian only because I’ve seen the Alphabet, but other than that I can’t help you.”

 

Ben shook his head and carefully moved the papers so that they were spread out like so many cards from a pack.   He pointed to one and then another

 

“These look as though they were torn in half -”  he frowned, “Someone tore the pages in half at some time.   There’s blood stains on only one half of one -”  he shook his head, “An attempt to conceal them perhaps?”

 

“More than likely.  Captain Cartwright would have done anything to make sure that no one found them.”

 

“Well, even if I could put them back together they still wouldn’t make any sense to me.” Ben sighed once more, “I wish Adam had been able to return home  and explained more about what this is all about.”

 

“Perhaps he has done so in his letters to you, Mr Cartwright.”  Jamieson pointed to the neat pile of letters on the small bureau in which Ben kept his pipe and tobacco.

 

“Knowing my son, I doubt it very much.”  but he turned to took them,  smiling at the way each envelope had been neatly and chronologically marked.

 

“He wrote to a Miss Scott as well.   William delivered it to her before we came here -”

 

“Adam wrote to Barbara?”  Ben’s dark brow furrowed and he was instantly reminded of the scene he had witnessed earlier that day, of Barbara being in Andrew’s arms and the intensity of their kiss.

 

“Yes, he stressed to William that it was very important.”

 

Ben scowled, pouted slightly before shaking his head in bewilderment.  Even though he had no idea of what message had been contained in the letter to Barbara, he still considered that her conduct was deplorable.     He gathered the Russian papers together and replaced them in their envelope,  which he took over to the safe in his study area.   Jamieson heard the click of the cylinders as Ben spun the wheel round and locked the safe.   He smiled over at his guest,

 

“Right, at least I know they’ll be safe in there until I can think of what to do about contacting Mr Grant.”   he squared his shoulders and thrust out his chest, the proud owner of the Ponderosa once again, and not just the worried father  of a man destined to find trouble in all walks of life.  “Well, Mr Jamieson, would you like me to show you some of the finer sights of the Ponderosa?”

 

“Indeed yes,” Jamieson rose to his feet, and received a hearty slap on the back from his host which made him wince.

 

……………………………….........

 

Hoss Cartwright looked down from the top of a boulder strewn slope and watched as two coaches rolled along the track beneath them.  He turned to Candy and shook his head,

 

“You’d think by now these folks would know not to trespass on Ponderosa land, wouldn’t ya?”  he scowled and pushed his hat to the back of his head, “You’d think they’d know better and have more respect.”

 

“Well, some folks just think they’re a law unto themselves, Hoss.  Those are mighty dandy coaches and good horses -”  Candy leaned forward over his horse’s head to see more clearly the direction the two coaches were taken,  then he grimaced, “If they’re not careful they’re going to find themselves riding slap bang into that box canyon just past Frenchman’s Creek.”

 

“P’raps they’re out for a picnic?”  Hoss grinned and adjusted his hat, “Best go along anyhow and tell ‘em to git back to whar they cum from.”

 

 

Chapter 93

 

 

“Hey, Candy, if we ride up along we kin cut ‘em off before they get into the box canyon.”

 

Suiting action to words Hoss urged Chubb along the rim rock with Candy closely following behind him.    They’d not gone so far when Candy gave a yell

 

“Hey, Hoss, look -” and he pointed down to the coaches.

 

“Shucks, good thing they ain’t travelling at speed,” Hoss muttered, as he observed the rear wheel of the coach in front developing a definite wobble, “May be we kin git down there before it actually comes off.”

 

By the time Candy and Hoss had reached the track along which the coaches had been rolling, one wheel was found to be ‘rolling’ on while the coach had floundered.  The second coach had pulled up behind it and six men had disgorged from within it.

 

“Shucks, I ain’t seen so much hardware since I was in the gun smiths -” Hoss muttered.  

 

“I’ll collect the wheel -” Candy said and turned his horse to pursue the errant wheel which was beginning to suffer from speed wobble.

 

By leaning from the saddle it was not difficult to grab at the wheel and halt it’s lonely progress.   He had to dismount however to wheel it back along to the coach from which several men had now descended.  

 

“Looks like you could be needing a hand thar -” Hoss declared in his usual bon homie way of introducing himself, and he swung a leg over the saddle to dismount only to pause as there came the ominous click of what seemed an army of guns all pointing at him.   “And you kin jest put them guns down easy too.   In fact, you shouldn’t even be here anyhow.  Don’t you know this is Ponderosa land and you’re trespassin’”

 

“We - er - we do apologise,” one of the men stepped forward now, and indicated to the men to put their guns back.   “We’re actually on the way to San Francisco -”

 

“Shucks, then you done got yourselves lost then.”  Hoss knit his brows and pushed back his hat, before looking at all the men crowded on the pack. 

 

Some of them looked decidedly shifty and uneasy.  Hoss snorted slightly in annoyance, he was going to be late for supper which was not a good thing,  and this many armed men made him nervous, which was a bad thing.   He turned his head as Candy arrived with the wheel and a wide grin on his face, 

 

“Wheel ain’t broke, Hoss.”

 

“Good, bring it over here then.”

 

Hoss spat into his hands and rubbed them together and walked to the coach, pushing aside one man, dark haired with a beard and a fancy frock coat,

 

“Outa the way, my man.  We’ll git this here wheel on fer yer and then you kin git back to the road to San Francisco and off our land.”

 

“Your land?”  the man with the beard queried raising his eyebrows as he did so.

 

“Yup”  Hoss nodded, and after stretching his arms and rubbing  his hands together once again he grabbed at the back axle “Right, Candy, soon as I got this here lifted you slip in the wheel.”

 

“Fine by me, Hoss.” and Candy rolled the wheel to the designated area, waited until he could see the rear of the coach slowly lifting.  “Ain’t far enough yet, Hoss.”

 

“Dang it, but this here coach is mighty fine and dandy but blamed heavy as well.  Right, now, heeaave -” and with bulging biceps, red neck and face, sweat popping all over, Hoss raised the coach until Candy could thrust the wheel into place.

 

“Thar  you are, my man, now you kin git on with your journey -” Hoss took off his hat and wiped his brow on the back of his hand.

 

One of the men was showing Candy where the nut and bolts had come off and helping to put them back into place to ensure the wheel did not repeat its trick later on.  For good measure all the wheels were checked by Candy and Hoss before Hoss declared they were sound.  The man in the frock coat who appeared to be the leader of the men had stood by watching it all in quiet contemplation, and was now puffing at a cigar.

 

“Did you refer to this Ponderosa as your land?” he asked eventually.

 

“That’s right.  I’m Hoss Cartwright.  This land belongs to my Pa and my brothers.”

 

“Adam Cartwright being one of them?”

 

“S’right.”  Hoss frowned, “Do you know my brother?”

 

“I do, sir.”  the bearded man smiled and thrust out his hand, “I’m mighty pleased to meet you, Hoss Cartwright.   I know we’re heading for San Francisco but I’d heard so much about the Ponderosa that I thought we’d make a detour and see it for ourselves.  May be have the pleasure of meeting Adam and his family.”  the smile was genuine, and the eyes twinkled pleasantly.

 

“Wal,  Adam ain’t home right now.   He’s - er - he’s absent.” he looked at Candy who nodded to confirm the statement, “But you’re more than welcome to come and see my Pa.   Any friend of Adams is a friend of the family -”  he smiled and released his hand

“What did you say your name was agin?”

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t - My name’s Grant.”

 

If he made a slight gesture to the other men for their silence niether Candy nor Hoss noticed as they were already turning to mount their horses.  Hoss, however, paused and looked at the crowd of men, at the guns and rifles and frowned,

 

“You ain’t figuring on starting any trouble are ya?   Travelling around with that much armour looks like fighting talk to folks like us out here.”

 

“I’ll tell you what, Mr Cartwright,” Mr Grant said “I’ll get these men to go into town and find a hotel.   My secretary, Mr Gowan,  and myself will accompany you.   Would that reassure you that we - er  - come on friendly terms?”

 

“Wal, might be a good idea.  I ain’t sure what Hop Sing’s cooking up for supper tonight but it sure would be spread mighty thin if you all came trundling in -”

 

“Hoss,”  Candy leaned from the saddle over to the big man, “I’d best carry on to Mr Hoeffner.  He wanted me to check on that stud bull of his, remember?”

 

“Oh sure.” Hoss nodded and waved a hand as Candy turned to resume their interrupted journey to the Hoeffners.   The other men were already boarding the coach, although one was talking in urgent tones to the bearded man.  Mr Gowan was already in the coach, looking slightly nervous.

 

“You alright, Mr Grant?” Hoss bellowed as he mounted Chubb, “You jest follow me.” he said to the coach driver who was holding onto the reins of the horses as though his life depended on it.

 

………………………………......................

 

Adam Cartwright stepped out of the boat and shook Duke’s hand.   The boat then pulled off back to the Ainola while Adam strode down the quayside.   Despite O’Brien’s anxiety and attempts at persuasive arguments for remaining on board the ship, or at least, allowing him to go along  Adam’s insistence on proceeding with his rather vague plan remained firm.

 

“Sometimes you just have to carry the fight into the enemy’s camp.” he had protested.

 

“Not at risk of your life.” O’Brien had countered.

 

Adam had shaken his head, and waved any arguments aside.  

 

“If the President is on the way to San Francisco I want to be able to assure him that the documents are safe.    Pelman can’t be allowed to have his say unchallenged now, can he?”

 

So now he was striding along the quayside, bruised and battered though he was;  he had removed the bandages from around his head, insisting that Dr Martin had assured him he had the Cartwright skull (which meant nothing to O’Brien whatsoever), and that his hat would protect the damage currently done to it.   At the cab rank he boarded a vehicle and gave directions to one of his father’s best friends in the centre of the city.

 

He leaned back against the padded seat and watched the buildings as they rode by, he wondered if his father had received his letters yet and if Barbara had received the one he had written to her.  Would she feel angry or relieved?   He pondered the matter for a while until the cab drew up outside a very elegant white painted building and jolted him back to reality.

 

Mr Andre Eugene was delighted to see Adam.  He shook  Adam’s hand warmly and lamented at the sight of the injured hand, asking Adam very kindly if he needed a doctor to see to it.

 

“I know this is an liberty, sir, but I’m on leave for a day or two and wondered if, instead of booking into an hotel, I could catch up with you and your family instead.  How is Mrs Eugene?”

 

“Very well, my boy.  Well, to be honest, in a bit of a flap.  We’ve just heard, through the grapevine, that the President is paying an impromptu visit here before he goes on his European tour.    There’s to be an evening’s entertainment for me - but it’s all very hush hush for some reason.” he beckoned to Adam to follow him, “so all the ladies are rather twittery.”

 

“In which case I feel I’m imposing rather on your hospitality.”

 

“Nonsense -”  Andre smiled “An Officer and a gentleman are always welcome,  and one of  Ben Cartwright’s sons even more so.”

 

Adam could do nothing more than give a slight bow in ackowledgement of the compliment and followed his host up the long winding staircase to the reception room above.

………………………..

 

Mr Grant was very impressed with what he was seeing as he sat in the comfortable coach, the Ponderosa was, he decided, a jewel in any man’s crown and by the time the coach pulled up in the yard he had finished his cigar, and felt very relaxed and expansive.

 

“Pa.”  he heard the man called Hoss yelling from quite close by and glanced at Gowan who rolled his eyes, “Pa?”

 

Ben Cartwright emerged from the ranch house with a wide beaming smile which rather faltered when he saw the coach, he looked rather bewilderedly at his son,

 

“What’s all this, Hoss?”

 

“Oh, the wheel came off, and they needed some help gitting it back on.   He said he knew Adam and had come along to see him and us, so I thought it better that they came along now and had some supper with us.”

 

“Really?”  Ben’s smile widened and he slapped his son warmly on the shoulder, “Well, we’ve already got some guests staying, Hoss, seems they’re friends of your brothers too.”

 

“Really, Pa?” Hoss’ eyes widened like two blue marbles, “Shucks now, ain’t that a co-incidence?”

 

“It surely is,” Ben chuckled, and turned as the coach door opened and the man in the frock coat stepped down, straightened his coat, and approached Ben with a wide smile,

 

“Mr Cartwright?”

 

“Indeed yes, welcome to the Ponderosa, Mr -?”

 

“Grant - this is my secretary, Gowan.”

 

Ben nodded an acknowledgement to the man called Gowan and turned to look at the other man who was looking at the ranch house in admiration,

 

“Well, this is a nice place you have here, sir.”

 

“Thank you, we think so -”  Ben smiled, although he had a vaguely uneasy feeling stirring in his mind, just something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.  “Well, don’t stand out here, please come on in -”

 

Mr Grant nodded, and followed by the hapless Gowan, stepped smartly along behind Ben.

 

“So you know my son, Adam?”

 

“Yes, I understand he isn’t at home at present?”

 

They were now standing on the porch and Ben pushed the door open,

 

“No, but we’ve just had a friend of his arrive with letters from him.   That’s always very welcome.” 

 

“And he’s well?  Your son, Adam?”  the voice, deep and clipped, was slightly gentled  and Ben turned to the man, nodded,

 

“I hope he is, sir.”

 

Grant and Gowan stepped into the big room and Ben took their hats, placed them on the bureau.  Joe was sitting on the settee concentrating on a game of checkers with William, and Jamieson was standing at the book case, an open book in his hand.  It was Jamieson who, upon looking up at the newcomers, gave a gasp and dropped the book onto the floor.

 

“Mr President -” he exclaimed.

 

“President?” Ben boomed and stepped back from his guests.

 

Joe and William promptly rose to their feet, turned to observe the two men who had entered the room.   Hoss, who had gone into the kitchen to discuss the extra guests with Hop Sing, strolled back into the room nonchalantly chomping on an apple.

 

“I jest squared it with our cook, you guys sure are in a for a treat.  Hop Sing’s done cooked his roast pork -” he looked around at them, from one to the other, “What’s up?  Don’t’cha like roast pork?”  he asked innocently.

 

 

Chapter 94

 

“Jeffrey Jamieson.” Grant exclaimed and his face lit up with a smile, a genuinely warm smile, “Excuse me, Mr Cartwright, if I may -” and he strode into the room and gave Jamieson a hearty hand shake, “I never expected to see you here.”

 

“Nor I to see you here, sir.”  Jamieson replied, now suffused with blushes.

 

“Mr Cartwright -” Grant turned to his host who was looking more bewildered and bemused than ever, “Do you realise you have here a unique man?   A man I can not speak more highly of -”  and he shook Jamieson’s hand again, “for  integrity and courage.”

 

“Well, I certainly didn’t know he was on such good terms with the President of the United States, sir.” Ben replied, tugging rather self consciously on his ear lobe and looking quickly at Hoss and Joe in the hope that they were both looking presentable.

 

“Shucks, you mean, you’re the President?” Hoss exclaimed, nearly choking on the apple he had been eating.

 

“I am, Hoss.  It’s a privilege to know  you too, sir, and many thanks for your assistance on the road here.” Grant laughed and shook Hoss’ hand and then went around the room shaking everyone’s hand.

 

Once he was seated in the big leather chair and handed a glass of very good whiskey, the President surveyed Jamieson once again,

 

“How did the assignment go, Jamieson?  Was there much trouble?”

 

Ben glanced at Hoss, then at Joe, once again he had the feeling that something had happened which he had missed, or perhaps not, but certainly the familiarity that existed between the two men was vaguely discomforting.  It had a quite surreal context, that the President would plunge into a discussion on a topic about which they themselves knew so little and had been hesitant in what enquiries they could make.   He cleared his throat and Grant,  turning to Ben, frowned slightly before giving a smile,

 

“Mr Cartwright, I hold your son in very high estimation and don’t want you to think that I sent him off on an assignment without someone on board watching his back.   Mr Jamieson was the best person I knew for doing just that -”  he struck a match and lit a cigar upon which he puffed for a few moments.  “Although Mr Jamieson was not told exactly what Captain Cartwright’s assignment was,  he was told about its dangers.  Your son and his men would encounter danger, and I had no right to expect him to do so without someone to vouch for him and help him out where possible.”  he puffed a while longer and then looked at Ben, “Perhaps you know more about what has happened on board the Ainola than I already -.”

 

“Mr Jamieson has told us a little of the dangers they faced.” Ben replied, and he left the words hanging there without looking at either man.

 

“I’ll tell you how it all started -” Grant said waving the cigar in the air and sending a spiral of blue smoke ceiling wards, “We got news that there were some ex-Confederate loyalists getting together in order to do as much damage as they could to the newly formed Government.   They touted for support from wherever they could and received some from Russian sympathisers who resented the sale of Alaska to us.  I can’t blame them after all they were making a fortune from the seal hunting business, trade for them had been exceptionally good.   Pestchouroff was very helpful for us, he compiled a list of names and some other information that we desperately needed.   The names were of men and women who were collaborating with whoever ran this anti Government party.”

 

“Ex - Confederates?” Joe muttered, just a little red under the collar.

 

“Well, if they had all been ex Confederate Officers, men and women - it could be understandable.” Grant frowned, “We’ve gone through an exceptional period of time here in the United States, a Civil War, the assassination of a President - yes, an exceptional time in our history.  A cruel time,” he paused his frown deepening, “so it would be understandable that there would be those who would seek to fight on. However, others began to show an interest.   It seemed every rag tag ruffian with an axe to grin wanted to be involved.    For some Russians a powerful nation like ours was too big a threat, they wanted to capitalise on the interim period of after the war and prior to a complete unification.   By that I don‘t mean every state but every man, woman and child feeling that they could identify as a citizen of  the United States of America.”  he tapped some ash into the wood box and then put the cigar into his mouth and drew upon it a while  “We had to have the names of those men and women and find out what their plans were.  Pestchouroff knew the names,  he was a good ally to us.   But he wasn’t able to pass the documents to our man - unfortunately he’d been killed.”

 

“The documents -” Ben exclaimed, and jumped to his feet, “Talk about  all that’s wonderful -”

 

He hurried to his safe and within minutes had returned with the package which he handed to the President.  His dark eyes looked into the face of the man destined to enjoy two terms in office.

 

“My son sent these to me, trusting me to give them to you. I was - I was wondering how on earth I would manage to do that but - well - miracles do happen.”

 

“It seems so, Mr Cartwright, it seems so.”  Grant replied slowly, and looked at Jamieson, “How ironic that Adam Cartwright entrusted these to you, Jeffrey?”

 

“He knew he could trust me, sir.” Jamieson replied, and then smiled at William, who had played his part too in bringing the letters to the Ponderosa.

 

“Gowan -”  Grant turned to the secretary who had been keeping as much in the background as he could, “See about translating these right away -.”

 

So the precious documents were placed by the President into the hands of his secretary who, after asking very politely for Mr Cartwright’s permission, removed himself to the desk and began to study, decipher and write out the translation of the papers.      

 

President Grant smiled thoughtfully, and looked at Ben who was sitting very straight backed opposite him.

 

“It must seem very strange that I can order men to their deaths just for some scraps of paper, don’t you think, Mr Cartwright?”

 

“I know my son nearly died in order to get them, Mr President.   I only hope that they are worth all the lives that were lost over them.”

 

“Well,  as in war, Mr Cartwright, there are always deaths.   We can’t restore their lives but we can ensure that others are spared.”  Grant replied in a very sober, serious tone of voice.

 

“Let’s pray so, sir.”   Ben replied and never had his voice been deeper or more heart felt.

 

Chapter 95

 

The sumptuous bath house built into the Eugene’s elegant white house was one of the luxurious Adam Cartwright had seen for  far longer than he cared to admit.   Jeannette Andre insisted that he make as good use of it as possible (she obviously had a sensitive nose) and join them for dinner when he was ready.   She eyed him up and down and with a smile, a nod, and a gesture led him into what was her husband’s walk in closet where she quickly put together clean shirt, jacket and pants which she set down upon the bed in the guest room.

 

“I’m not putting you out at all, am I?” Adam asked with some attempt of a conciliatory note in his voice although he could guess at the way she was acting that she was not put out by his visit at all.

 

“It is our pleasure, Captain Cartwright,” she smiled and flashed big eyes at him, “In the morning Andre’s valet will have had  your own clothes laundered and you will be your  usual smart self again.”

 

She drew closer to him, and stood just inches away from him.   He could smell her very expensive perfume, it was very musky, almost intoxicating.  She reached out and touched his injured bandaged hand with her fingers,

 

“Oh your poor hand.   It’s going to be rather difficult for you to manage that bath -”

 

“I can manage.” Adam replied firmly and gently removed her hand, “Thank you, Mrs Eugene.”

 

“Jeannette.” she reminded him with a slow smile that made him shiver in a way that she did not actually intend. 

 

He waited for the door to close before locking it quickly behind her, then he had to unbolt it again to admit the servant who was bringing up pails of hot water.

 

He re-entered the guest room and walked to the window.  So far things were working out much as he had hoped.  Andre had been a friend of Ben for a number of years, he was extremely wealthy and the contracts he had entered into with the Ponderosa had always been successful ones.  He was also the brother of an Officer who knew the Pelman family well.  As he stood at the window overlooking the gardens to the house, Adam ran through the names on the list he had had Philip write out just to make sure that there was no one on it by the name of Henry Eugene.   He sighed, not that it proved anything,  Williamson had certainly invalidated that matter.

 

When there had been sufficient water ferried up into the bath tub and the maid had smiled coyly at Adam to indicate all was ready for him, he pushed himself away from the window and entered the bath room.    The pleasure it gave him to shed his uniform, to very carefully unwind the bandages around his ribs, to cast off boots and socks and to allow his body some clean air was like a weight lifting from his shoulders.  

 

He slipped down into the hot water which had been scented discreetly by some oils.  It was a style of bath known as a slipper bath, and more comfortable than some he had known  as he leaned back, his head just above the surface of the water, and the pain in his ribs ebbing away .   ‘This won’t do,’ he told himself in a business like fashion, ‘stay much longer than this and I’ll fall asleep and probably drown myself’  but it was so pleasurable that he found himself languishing there just a while longer before he finally grabbed at the soap and got down to the business of removing the dirt and grime from his body,  he ducked into the water and thoroughly washed his hair, winced as hot water stung the deep cut in the back of his head but succeeded in surfacing without making too much mess.

 

Bath tubs and indoor plumbing was still in its infancy but Andrew Eugene was a man who liked to be considered a forward thinker.     He had fascinated his neighbours with the installation of this ‘indoor wash house’ and had now set a trend.  It’s interesting to note that only a few months later in Tucson, when the population had spread to over 3000 there still existed just the one bath tub!   But not in the Eugene’s house, here the very latest design, and copied strictly to the pattern of Queen Victoria’s bathroom in England, had been installed and was currently being enjoyed by their guest.

 

Adam shook his head, and ducked down under the water again, keeping his injured hand well above the water level.   His thoughts now had turned from the mundane to the more purposeful.  With a slightly smug smile  he thought of several ways to inveigle Jeannette Eugene into inviting Mrs Pelman to her home, and to meet himself.  He  had wondered and pondered on how to probe beneath Pelman’s façade and to expose him for what he truly was - a traitor at worse, a charlatan at best.

 

He stepped from the bath and picked up the towels, dried himself carefully and then struggled manfully to rewind the bandages around his ribs.   He could see for himself the mass of bruising that discoloured his flesh down his left side, and could only wonder at the amount of damage that had been done  internally.   When he had finally managed to complete the bandaging he began to concentrate on dressing.

 

Jeannette had done well with her measurements, for the clothing she had provided him was a good comfortable fit.    He fastened the last button of the shirt and carefully pulled on the jacket.    He struggled into his shoes, and thought to himself that this was obviously why rich men had valets, because when they got too fat or too drunk or in dire straits someone else could do it for them.

 

Eventually he was done.   He now discovered that his ribs ached worse than ever and the pants were not so comfortable as he had first hoped.   But, he told his reflection in the mirror, nothing ventured, nothing gained.    He passed his hand over his chin, and frowned, the beard was progressing along very well.

<><><><><>
Chapter 96

 

Adam Cartwright woke to sunlight streaming through the windows.  His head throbbed and it ached when he moved it.   He tried to stay as still as he possibly could so that the pain would just go away while he tried to remember exactly what happened the previous evening.

 

“What time would you like your shave, Captain?”

 

The voice rumbled over head and he forced his eyes half open to survey the dark blue pants of someone standing by the side of the bed.   That was as far as he could lift his eyes.  It felt as though someone was swinging on every eyelash and he could only groan “Is that you O’Brien?”

 

“No sir, it’s O’Flaherty.   Mrs Eugene has asked me to be your valet while you are staying here.   Are you - er - wanting some breakfast?”

 

“Isn’t it too early?”  Adam wondered if he were going to have to push his eyelids up with his fingers they were so heavy.    He closed and opened, closed and opened them several times before he was able to get them fully open and then he attempted to lift his head.

 

Everything inside his skull seemed to clang to one side, reverberate and then clang back and hit the other side before slowly settling into some form of equilibrium.  He blinked at O’Flaherty, widened his eyes and yawned.

 

“Is it very late then?”

 

“Late for breakfast, sir.”

 

The reprimand was all in the voice.  Adam remembered thinking how long serving servants were often more snobbish than their employers and those four words merely confirmed the fact.  He ran his tongue over his teeth, and shuddered.

 

“I’ve a bit of a headache.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“I think I’ve swallowed someone’s shaving brush.”  he shivered, and closed his eyes just to make sure that the room wasn’t really rocking, but in the dark behind his eye lids it felt even worse.  “Did I drink very much last night?”

 

“Not so much last night, sir.” O’Flaherty sighed as he pulled back the bed covers, “Early this morning you packed quite a bit away, sir.”

 

Adam practised opening and closing his eyes again, until he could focus on O’Flaherty properly.

 

“How -  herrrrhummm - how’s Mr Eugene?”

 

“Under the bed, sir.”

 

“What?  Under the bed?  My bed?”

 

“His own bed, sir.”

 

“Is he often under his bed?”

 

“Only when naval gentlemen call, sir.  He seems to have a strange fascination about the sea - always thinks when one talks about the sea one should have regular tots of rum along with it.  A habit he got into some years ago.” 

 

Adam stared at the rug and concentrated on the colours until they stopped running into each other.  O’Flaherty was walking across the room and it sounded like half the Ponderosa herd.  

 

“Were we alone?”

 

“No,  sir, that was the trouble, Mr Harry was there as well.”

 

“Where’s Mr Harry now?”  Adam asked, trying to remember at what time in the evening Mr Harry had arrived but finding that there was a total blank gone from his memory.

 

“Late, sir.”

 

Adam rose to his feet and rather carefully was navigated to a chair where O’Flaherty surveyed him thoughtfully for a moment or two, before starting to lather up some shaving foam.  Adam watched in a detached kind of way as O’Flaherty then began to sharpen the cut throat razor on the leather strop.   His eyes were closing again, the chair was comfortable and quite honestly it was just too difficult to think straight.

………………………….

 

Ben Cartwright had never imagined that there would be a day when the President of the United States breakfasted with the family at the Ponderosa.   Hop Sing had never imagined that he would one day cook breakfast for the President of the United States.   Consequently the flapjacks burned, bacon frazzled and the coffee was bitter.  Nothing went right in the kitchen and they breakfasted accompanied by frenzied Cantonese from the kitchen with the clangs and bangs of various saucepans being slammed about the stove and table top.

 

Everything was amazingly quiet when the coach finally pulled out of the yard and by the time the dust had settled it was hard to believe that there had actually been such an august guest in their home.  Ben sighed and put an arm around each of his son’s,

 

“You know, that has been quite an honour.    I only wish that Adam had been here as well.”

 

“Yeah, so do I, Pa.” Joe grinned before he turned back towards the house, “I just wish that - well, Pa, don’t you think that there could be something we could do here?  We know Adam’s in San Francisco,  that’s just a stone’s throw away.”

 

“And some -” Hoss muttered,  he passed a  hand over  his jaw and grimaced slightly before turning blue eyes to his father, “But it’s an idea, Pa.   We could go - couldn’t we?”

 

“Not you,  Joe.” Ben said solemnly, “I doubt if Dr Martin would agree to it just yet, all that bouncing about in the stage coach won‘t do you any good at all.  Besides there’s a lot to do here.”

 

“But, Pa -” Joe’s face fell by a yard and a half, he glanced at Hoss in appeal but his big brother just shrugged and rolled his blue eyes, “I’m quite fit -”

 

“For staying right here and doing some work around the ranch.  Joe - I’m not taking any risks with your health.   It’s bad enough having one son to worry about -” Ben muttered beneath his breath but loud enough for Joe to hear as he stomped back into the room.

 

“Why do I always have to draw the short straw” Joe lamented, and Hoss sighed, shook his head and wrapped an arm around his little brothers shoulders before lifting him off his feet “Just put me down, you big ox”

 

“Hey, who are you calling a big ox -” Hoss laughed and then paused as William appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling, “Hey, Beansprout, how’re you liking it here on the Ponderosa?”  and he promptly dropped Joe on his feet.

 

“I like it just fine, thank you, Mr Hoss.  Mr Jamieson and me, well, we were thinking we were about ready to go back to the Ainola now.   Guess this will be the last chance I have to you teaching me to horse ride, Mr Joe.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Joe frowned and looked at the boy thoughtfully, “You don’t have to go back, do you?”

 

“Sure I do.  When the Captain gets a new steward I’ll go back to being a Midshipman again.  That way I move up the ship by taking my exams to be an Officer in a few years time.”

 

“But you’re just 14?”

 

“I know, but I want to be a Lieutenant before I’m 18.”

 

“You like being on board a ship?” Hoss asked, looking at the boy as though he couldn’t believe anyone could prefer a ‘boat’ to riding around the Ponderosa on a good horse.

 

“Yes, sir.”  William smiled, “There’s always something happening on a ship.  Things to see.  I like it just fine.”

 

Joe and Hoss could only look at one another, roll their eyes and grimace.  But William was happy, he went back into the house whistling with his hands in his pockets quite unconcerned.

 

“Do you reckon that’s how Adam feels right ?” Joe said quietly

 

“I hope not. “ Hoss muttered sincerely.

 

………………………………

 

“Black coffee, Captain.”

 

O’Flaherty nudged Adam’s elbow and  the Captain woke up with a start, looked at O’Flaherty, and then at the coffee.  He took a cup gratefully and emptied it within seconds.  The second cup was emptied just as quickly.  He nodded,  took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror.   He leaned forward and squinted hard.  Apart from the shadows under the eyes there was no evidence of the previous nights hard drinking.   He looked reasonably healthy apart from the deep graze and bruise on his cheek.  When he raised his hand to run along his jaw line, which was now as smooth as any jaw line could be, he noticed that the bandages had been changed.

 

“Martha cleaned your hand, sir, and the dressings for you.”  O’Flaherty murmured, “My wife -”

 

“Oh, well, thank her for me, will you?”

 

“She made the coffee for you too, sir.”

 

“Obviously a very thoughtful lady, O’Flaherty.”

 

“Very thoughtful, sir.”

 

Adam cast another anxious look at himself in the mirror and sighed, ran his fingers along his jaw line again - and forced a smile at the valet’s reflection in the mirror.

 

……………………..

 

He followed the sound of voices and found the two brothers Eugene in the drawing room.  Andre looked up at his guest and gave a shout of laughter,

 

“Ha, Captain, good day to you, sir.  Come down for  the hair of the dog?”

 

“No - er - thank you.”

 

“I should think not, indeed.” Andre laughed again, a boisterous shout of a laugh before turning to his brother.

 

Harry Eugene wore the uniform of a Lieutenant and gave Adam a smart salute before he relaxed into a smile.  They were not unalike to look at, these two brothers, but Harry was the more retiring by nature, more reserved.  He was also the one who was not so well able to hold his liquor as he looked decidedly the worse for wear.

 

“I didn’t really get the chance to meet you properly last night,” he said to Adam, “I do apologise if my behaviour was in any way inappropriate.”

 

“Well, it’s good to meet you now - in the cold light of day.” Adam smiled, and extended his hand which Harry shook gratefully.

 

“The Captain’s on shore leave for a few days, Harry.   Just in time for the President’s visit.”

 

“Hush, Andre, it’s not meant to be public knowledge.” Harry blushed, and glanced anxiously at Adam who smiled blandly, “Although I suppose when the women get here that will be all that they’ll be talking about.”

 

Andre sighed, and shrugged,

 

“I think I’ll go and visit my club for the rest of the day.   Our wives and Mrs Pelman -” he shuddered rather theatrically, “Adam, you are more than welcome to join me.”

 

“Thank you, Mr Eugene   - I mean - Andre.   I have other business to attend to,  perhaps another time.”   he smiled, rocked back and forth on his heels and looked at Harry thoughtfully.  There was no doubt about it, but the poor man looked more than a little concerned about something and Adam could not help but wonder if it had anything to do with the fact that Mrs Pelman was coming to the house.   If so, why would it worry Lieutenant Eugene so much?

 

“What ship are you attached to, Lieutenant?”   he had approached the other man and sat down on a chair be side him, closer in order to observe him.  Andre had wandered over to the window to observe the gardeners and to bang on the glass if he saw them cutting off anything that he felt they shouldn’t.

 

“Oh, I’m not attached to any ship at present, Captain, I’m an attache at the Admiralty Offices.”

 

“Interesting work.”

 

“Yes.  Sometimes.”  he glanced at Adam quickly, rather nervously, “You’re the Captain on board the Ainola, aren’t you?”

 

“I am.”

 

“You’ve been to Alaska I believe?”

 

“I didn’t know it was common knowledge.” Adam replied rather coldly, and looked at the other man with a more cautious air,  more restrained. “What made you think I had been there?”

 

“Pelman can be indiscreet at times.   I overheard him shouting the odds yesterday.”  Harry blushed, he was, Adam surmised, an extremely nervous person, and was about to speak when the thudding on the window made both of them jump.  Andre had seen something he had disagreed with and was now striding out of the room muttering under his breath.  Harry gave a nervous laugh,

 

“My big brother - too much money in the bank and too much time on his hands.” he glanced at Adam, “I mean - well - you know what I mean?”

 

Adam frowned slightly and rubbed his chin, ‘yes‘, he thought, ‘I know exactly what you mean, and you’re wishing you were the one with the money and the time rather than having to work in the office, running around doing what you’re told,  which is probably what you have been doing all your life for someone or other.  You poor wretch …

 

Chapter 97

 

“Joe?”

 

Peggy Dayton Cartwright tossed her bonnet into a chair and looked around for Joseph Cartwright only to find him seated at his father’s desk with the ledgers open and a disconsolate look on his face.

 

“Hello Joe.” she said in a sigh and approached the desk slowly.  

 

“Hello, pumpkin.” Joe replied without even looking up at her. “I suppose you know Pa and Hoss have gone to San Francisco?”

 

“I saw them getting on the stage.”

 

“Yeah, great, isn’t it?” Joe tossed the pen onto the desk, causing a blob of black ink to splurge over a page of the ledger, “Some days aren’t worth getting up for -”

 

“I know -”

 

“Leaving me behind -” Joe scowled, “I can’t believe they’d just  up and leave me here on my own.”

 

“You’re not on your own, I’m here and Hop Sing.”

 

He looked up at her, grinned slowly and nodded,

 

“I know, sorry.” he stretched and interlocked his fingers above his head, “I just hate book work.”  he picked up some blotting paper and carefully began to repair the damage the ink blot had created, “Shows how desperate Pa is to get away, leaving me in charge of these.”

 

“Joe?”

 

“Yes, Peggy?”

 

“Did you know about Miss Scott?”

 

“What about her?”  he looked up and frowned, “Are you alright, Peggy?  You don’t look very happy?   Is it because you’re leaving us?”

 

“I’m staying a bit longer now - for the wedding.”

 

“The wedding?”  Joe raised his eye brows, “The wedding?” he repeated in a perfect falsetto.

 

“Yes, Barbara’s wedding to Andrew Pearson.”

 

Joe gulped so loudly that it sounded as though he had swallowed his father’s ink well.  He shook his head,

 

“She can’t - she can’t, Peggy.”

 

“Well,  she is, she told me this morning.   She and Andrew went to see about the banns yesterday afternoon.  Joe,  Adam’s going to be  heart broken.” she clasped her hands together, “She even told me that she had Adam’s permission.  Can you believe that?  She said Adam had written to her and said she was free from any obligation to him.”

 

“He wrote to her?”

 

“Yes.  She said so.  But surely he would have written to you as well?   I mean, how could she have got a letter if you hadn’t?”

 

Joe slumped back into the chair and once again tossed the pen down upon the desk.  His mouth hung open for a second or two and his eyes looked a trifle vacant, then he shook his head and groaned before burying his head in his hands,

 

“He has written to us.   Two of his crew came here with the letters, I remember now, William said he had delivered a letter to the school teacher.  So -”  he looked up at Peggy and shook his head, “seems to me my brother has a serious case of  -”

 

“Of?”

 

“Fear of commitment.  That’s what it is, he’s scared of committing himself to a woman.  Darn it, Peggy.”  he bit his bottom lip and stared at the far off wall, “I have to get to San Francisco.”

 

“No, you can’t, Joe.”  she stepped forward and put a restraining hand on his arm, “You can’t unless you want to end up permanently in that wheelchair.”

 

“Someone’s got to save him from himself, don’t you see -”

 

“No, Joe, it’s you who doesn’t see -”  she stepped back, away from him and twisted her fingers together, “Barbara really loves Andrew Pearson.”

 

“She said she loved Adam not so long ago-”

 

“She still does, in a way that doesn’t include marriage, Joe.”

 

“Well, that doesn’t make sense at all, you either love someone or you don’t, and if you do, then you get married.”  Joe scowled, bit his lip again and began to chew on his thumb nail, “That Andrew Pearson has been working on her, hasn’t he?  Always hanging around and Hoss was dead to rights when he said that he didn’t like Pearson, now I can see what he meant.”

 

“Oh Joe -” Peggy sat down in the chair opposite the young man and shook her head, “If Adam wrote that she was free from any obligation to him, that was his way of saying she was free to marry someone else, even you if she had fallen for you.  Don’t you see, he must have realised that perhaps he didn’t love her enough, or that - that he wouldn’t be home any time soon and it was unfair to keep her just waiting for him.  It could be he even loved her so much that he didn’t want her to be unhappy and -”

 

She stopped at the look on his face, a look of anguish, fear and misery.  Once again she rose to her feet and went to his side,

 

“What’s the matter, Joe?   Have I said something I shouldn’t have done?”

 

“It - it’s alright, Peggy.  I just got an awful feeling that he thought he wasn’t going to come home, that he was going to die or something like that - you know?   If he died and we didn’t know we - and Barbara - could waiting for years, never knowing  for sure.  She would be too old to marry by then.  Don’t you see?”   he looked away from her and tried to stand but his legs betrayed him,  as they often did still, for he sat back down again very quickly.

 

“Joe,  I don’t think he’s dead, I’m sure he’s alright.”

 

“My Pa doesn’t think so -” Joe rubbed his left thigh vigorously,  pummelling it as though to force it to regain some strength “He’s gone to San Francisco because the President -” he stopped,  looked at her and shook his head, “I really wanted Adam home again,  and happy.”

 

“So did I, Joe.  Barbara does too,  it’s just that she can’t love him in the way a wife should, that’s what she said to me.   She loves Andrew Pearson -”

 

“Do you think my Pa knows about her ?”

 

Peggy nodded her head slowly,  “Oh yes, Barbara said your Pa knows - well, he knows something anyway.”

 

Joe scowled again, he began to massage his other thigh now, cursing beneath his breath at his weakness and inability to be in a position to help his brother.  He looked at Peggy with eyes like that of a wounded puppy, and his lips quivered

 

“It’s not fair, Peggy, I feel so useless -”

 

……………………………….....

 

Daniel O’Brien hurried to the quarter deck when the sound of thudding feet and yells, shouts and the alarm bell ringing sounded aloud through the ship.  He was struggling to pull on his jacket when he reached the deck and came face to face with Duke, who had obviously been about to fetch him from the cabin,

 

“We’ve trouble, sir.”

 

Daniel followed the pointed finger and turned to see the burning hulk of a long derelict ship drifting inexorably towards them. 

 

“Raise anchors” he cried, “Raise anchors now”

 

“Raise anchors” the cry went out and there came the sound of the anchors fore and aft being raised.

 

“We can’t lower the sails, sir,” Gibbs said quietly, “One spark from that ship and we’ll be in flames ourselves.”

 

“There’s not enough current, Lieutenant O’Brien, for us to ‘ghost’ from our position.    We’ve raised the anchors and the current, what there is of it, will take us out of  the bay, further out to sea, but we’ll only be running a parallel  course to her -” Niocolson, the gunner, jabbed a thumb in the direction of the flaming hulk which seemed to be drifting ever closer to the Ainola.

 

“Bowse the main sail -” O’Brien yelled

 

“But, sir -”  Gibbs protested, and looked fearfully at the continuing progress of the other ship “If the -”

 

“Do as I ordered, Gibbs, we’ve got to make  use of what wind there is, and the main sail is -”

 

“No, sir -   Look -”

 

The burning ship was now close hauling onto the Ainola, the heat of the flames indicative of her close range.  

 

“She’s careening over, sir -”

 

“I see her, Gibbs -”  Daniel cried, shouting now to have his voice heard about the sounds of the roaring fire, the wind it was creating within its own inferno, and the yells of the men “Club haul the ship -”

 

Lowering an anchor, club hauling the ship, would have the effect of getting the ship to slew around, to avoid the oncoming vessel.    The fireship, as vessels of the kind were called, was beginning to careen to the starboard, her blazing masts, in part white hot, were now burned through and Daniel watched in horror as it split in two and began to descend down towards the Ainola.

 

“Abandon ship -” he screamed at the top of his voice so that all could hear and take the necessary evasive action.

 

“Abandon ship -” the cry was picked up and echoed throughout.

 

There was a rending crash as the mast thundered down upon the foredeck.  The Ainola shuddered, quivered, as though in her death throes.  Men hastened to cast on buckets of water to douse the flames and to give themselves some chance to lower the port side boats and to escape what was now an inevitable conclusion.   O’Brien, thrown off his feet by the force of the blow now scrambled up, and ran to assist the men in lowering the boats.    The fireship was now a glowing white spectre enveloped with the flames that roared skywards into a billowing black mass of cloud.   Onwards it came, onwards … there was a crash and the sound of splintering wood as the blazing ship rolled onto her beam ends and the bow smashed through the Ainola, carving a welt alongside her, and slowly hauling her over

 

“She’ll be awash soon -” Gibbs cried, and there was the sound of a sob in his voice for he had served many years on her, she was wife and daughter to him, and to many others who had served on her.

 

“Mr O’Brien - ?” Duke looked at the young man in horror, “Mr O’Brien -?”

 

“I gave the order, Duke, abandon ship.” 

 

The Ainola tilted, she was groaning as though a living creature in pain, Daniel felt his feet scrabbling upon her tilted decking and grabbed at the taffrail in order to save himself from slipping unavoidably to his death in to the furnace of flames that had now engulfed his ship.

 

“Jump, sir -   jump”  Duke cried and without another word he grabbed the younger man and hauled him overboard into the water.

 

 

 

Chapter 98

 

Andre Eugene returned from his foray with his gardeners and settled himself into his most comfortable chair, lit a cigar and demanded that there were some refreshments provided.    A visit to his club seemed to have slipped his mind, but as he had imbided the most heavily of the three such forgetfulness on his part was to be taken for granted.

 

Harry Eugene observed his brother with a somewhat jaundiced eye before turning to Adam  to regard him with some thought, finally remarking that he had not realised the Captain Cartwright he had heard so much about was also the Adam Cartwright from the Ponderosa.  

 

“My family owe a great deal to their - our - relationship with your father, and yourself, of course.   Do you recall the time in ‘61 when our father suffered some reversal in fortune?”

 

“Vaguely.” Adam smiled and helped himself to some coffee, his stomach had yet to settle enough for food although he did have a great yearning for some of Hop Sings pancakes.  “If I recall rightly your father had entered a contract with my Pa which carried a really good bonus at the end of it.  But -” he pursed his lips and frowned, “your father’s stocks went down on some deal he had made?”

 

“That’s right,” Andre sat up, taking notice now of what was going on, “if your father had decided to back out of that contract we’d have been ruined.  Your father, on the other hand, would have been even better off than he was but he didn’t budge.  He was a good friend  and my father never forgot.”

 

“No,” Harry said and looked once again rather thoughtfully at Adam. “No, he never forgot, and every year on the anniversary of the day the bonus came through, he would  remind us of what we owed the Cartwrights.”

 

Adam, always embarrassed when such things were raised, was however pleased that such an action on his father’s part had been so well remembered.  He sipped some of the coffee before embarking on another line of conversation,

 

“What ship have you served on, Harry?”

 

“Oh, none.” came the swift reply, “I have always served in the offices, strictly administration.   I would have preferred to have served on board, but -”

 

“Harry suffers from claustrophobia and mal de mer -” Andre snorted with some contempt, he puffed hard at his cigar and almost disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke as a result.   “Father bought his commission because it has been a family tradition that one of the sons should go into the navy.”

 

Adam raised his eyebrows and turned dark eyes towards Harry who was inwardly cringing at his brother’s comments that were obviously designed to both sting and humiliate the younger sibling.  

 

“It couldn’t have been easy for you,” he murmured, and the unfortunate younger man shook his head

 

“No, it hasn’t been.   It’s always been a family tradition for one son in the family to enter the navy.  One of our great grandfathers was an Admiral -” he shrugged “Not that I’ll ever attain to that rank, but at least I do what I am able to do.”

 

“What about you, Andre, didn’t the sea appeal to you?”

 

“Father wanted me to stay in the business with him, he could see I had a good head for business and in all honesty the sea didn’t appeal to me.   However, our sister married into a naval family with a long tradition of sea farers.   That made father happy enough -” he smiled slowly,  “The Metcalfe’s have sea water in their veins, and it looks like Virginia’s son will be packed off to sea before long.”

 

“The Metcalfe’s?”  Adam cleared his throat, and glanced from one to the other, “I don’t know them , do I?”

 

“I doubt it - they’re down south.  But we’ve got them to thank for helping Harry get his appointment with Commodore Pelman.   Now -” Andrew waved his cigar in a wide circle, “that’s a man who’s going places.  I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the President wasn’t coming here to give due recognition to him, a brilliant strategist, excellent tactician, and a man I hope Harry -”

 

“For  pities sake, Andre, shut up.” Harry cried, his voice broke and a shudder ran down his back that was so violent that Adam actually stepped back in surprise at seeing it, “You haven’t the faintest idea what kind of man Pelman is, if you did you wouldn’t talk about him in that way.”

 

Andre looked shocked, the look on his face registered the same slack mouthed amazement as only a man totally surprised could display, he shook his head,

 

“Harry, I think you’re forgetting  how much you owe the Commodore -”

 

“I owe him nothing, nothing.” Harry practically spat the words out of his mouth, “I don’t want to be owing him anything either.  He’s an egotist of the worse kind, and -”

 

“And he happens to be married to our cousin, so perhaps you should restrain yourself.” Andre put his hand on Harry’s arm, and Adam could see the way the knuckles tightened that it was not an affectionate gesture for Harry shrunk back, his eyes dark in his white face.

 

“I’m sorry, Adam” Andre turned to their guest,  “It seems that my brother’s hang over has made him forget his manners.  Please accept my apologies -   and his -” he glanced at his brother who merely bowed his head and turned away, leaned against the mantle and looked thoroughly miserable.

 

“Of course -” Adam replied, and was about to speak further when the door opened  to admit a young woman,

 

“Excuse me, sirs, Mrs Pelman is here to -”

 

She said nothing more but was swept imperiously to one side by the entrance of the aforesaid Mrs Pelman.    The entrance - an entrance - of a woman of great beauty, elegance and poise.  Her whole appearance was one of  that bespoke wealth, the poise of her head, the garments she wore, all indicated a woman who was totally confident of her role in life, and her effect upon others.   She seemed, as soon as she stepped into the room, to fill it with energy and colour.

 

Adam narrowed his eyes as he observed the difference in the brothers’ attitude towards her, Harry turned from the mantle to look at her and bow slightly, deferentially, but Andre swept towards her and Adam saw upon his face the briefest glimpse of covetousness, greed and lust. 

 

‘Well,’ he thought to himself, ‘ so that is how the land lies … cousin or not, it would seem friend Andre has an even higher regard for Madam Pelman than he has for  her husband.’

 

Mrs Pelman paused at the entrance to the room and having swept an imperious glance over each man standing there, she addressed Adam

 

“Captain Cartwright?”

 

“At your service, Madam.” he bowed slightly while his eyes met hers and saw within them a coldness, an arrogance that was quite chilling.

 

“There are two ships burning in the harbour - one of them, I believe,  is yours!”

 

Chapter 99

 

Just for an instant Adam froze.   Henry Eugene put out a hand as though to seize hold of his arm, and Andre gasped and stepped towards him but as a thousands things tumbled around in Adam’s mind the matter most important to him was his ship and his men and with that thought in mind he ran from the room.   It was the same reaction that was created at the cry of ‘Forest fire’ on the Ponderosa.  Nothing else mattered because nothing could be quite as devastating as fire and on a ship - on HIS ship - and his men’s life at risk, he knew if nothing else he had to get to the Ainola.

 

He blamed himself.  Even as he ran, saw a groomsman currying a horse, pushed him to one side and leapt upon its back, so he blamed himself.   As he gripped the horse’s mane and sent it soaring over the hedge that bounded the front garden of the property Adam cursed himself.   The horse, sensing that the rider on his back, knew what he was doing and was in complete control of him, galloped into the main thoroughfare, weaving in and out between carriages, coaches, buggies and cabs.  All the time there was an tightening squeezing feeling within Adam that was fighting to be released … a howl, a cry, a scream of anger, so great that had he been Icarus he would have challenged the sun.    As it was he left a certain amount of chaos behind him  as he urged the horse onwards through the traffic towards where a plume of black smoke heralded the demise of the Ainola.

 

By the time he reached the harbour the horse was lathered with sweat, and Adam slipped from its back and was running once again through crowds that were thronging the quayside.  He elbowed them aside, pushed against them, until he had succeeded in reaching where the harbour master stood with other men on the pier side.   A boat was drawing in towards the pier with twelve or more men on board and Adam could see some that were injured, Gibbs was lolling against Davies, and the burns on his body were indicative of just how intense the fire had been.

 

Along with others Adam leaned forward to haul at the hands of the men from the boat and bring them to shore.  Gibbs was dying, there was no doubt about that, and it was Adam who lifted him from the boat and carried him to where some of the dead, retrieved from the sea earlier, had been set down.

 

“Captain?”

 

Gibbs opened his eye, the other, fused with the burned flesh that had seared from his head to his waist.  He groped with his hand and gripped Adam’s very tightly

 

“I’m sorry, Captain, should have noticed - I didn’t -”

 

“Hush, be silent now.   There’s help coming -”  Adam said in a deep bass that quivered with emotion.

 

“Couldn’t warn  -”

 

Gibbs hand tightened on Adam’s,  he mouthed words but no sound was heard, then there was a rattling in his throat, his grip tightened, loosened, and then his hand was limp in Adam’s and fell to his side.   Adam raised him up into his arms and carried him to the row of men, set him down and stepped back.   He looked at the faces of the men there - recognised them all, knew their positions on board ship, remembered some features about them.  Hawkins - tended to irritate his ship mates by being petty over things that didn’t matter;  Parsons - played the accordian and had a good bass voice;  Make piece - 13 years old, cabin boy, could climb the rigging faster than anyone else on board ship.    His eyes scanned each face, he knew them all, and now they were dead.  

 

“Adam.”

 

He had his head bowed, but now he wiped away the moisture from his eyes and cheeks and then turned to see O’Brien striding towards him.   If ever grief and guilt could be etched into any man’s face it was certainly scored deep into that young mans for O’Brien was white faced, shaking with shock and misery as he strode towards Adam.

 

“Adam, it was my fault -”  his voice was trembling, “My fault - I didn’t see -”

 

“No, no, it was my fault.”  Adam insisted, seizing hold of the other man’s hand in both his own, “Are you hurt?”

 

“Not at all.  Duke grabbed me and threw me into the sea -”

 

“Is Duke alright?  Did you see you afterwards?”

 

“I saw him fall into the sea with some others.”  O’Brien’s eyes filled with tears, he turned away his head, he didn’t want to see, even in memory, the sight of those burning bodies as they fell into the waters,  he released his grip on Adam‘s hand and then turned to look at his friend, “I didn‘t see what was happening.   It was my fault, Captain.”

 

“No, it was mine.  I should never have left the ship.”  Adam said quietly, but O’Brien shook his head,

 

“No, no, don’t say so.  You make me feel that you didn’t think me capable to taking on the responsibility then, and that you feel right to have thought so.   This happening -”

 

“Enough,” Adam raised his hand for silence, “Don’t say anymore, there are too many ears listening, and too many who will be very quick to attach blame.”

 

“But -”

 

“Captain -”  a familiar voice, and Helmsman Davies was approaching them, stopped and saluted, “Captain - it was the derelict ship.”

 

“Yes, so it would seem.” Adam nodded

 

“But - it’s been there for years.  Someone must have boarded her during the night and set up some explosives and a timing device.  I heard the  first explosion myself and gave the warning right away.  Someone slipped her anchors - caused her to drift towards us -”  Davies glanced from one to the other of them, “I know | didn’t see anyone, I can’t prove it - but no derelict ship just explodes like that for no reason, and it takes a human hand to raise the anchors.”

 

Adam nodded.   Shook Davies’ hand and turned his face towards the sea.   His heart felt tight with the misery and sadness he felt now at the sight of his ship blazing to her death, he saw the great masts collapse upon the decks, sparks flew skywards, it was a fantastic pyrotechnic display of the first order and he looked at O’Brien

 

“She’s dying.” and the two words were spoken in a quivering bass voice.

 

O’Brien nodded, bowed his head, and despite an attempt to say something could only make a deep growl in his throat.

 

“It was done deliberate, sir.”  a man’s voice behind them and Adam turned to face the harbour master who looked at him with a long miserable face.

 

“I have no doubt of that, sir.” Adam replied in his clipped voice and his lips very compressed together.

 

“A boat was found pulled up on the shore above from where the old ship had been berthed all these years.   There was a still night, no squall nor gale to set her loose from her moorings to make her drift towards the Ainola.   I shall have to make out a report of our findings, Captain Cartwright, an investigation is now under way.”  he extended his hand and shook both Adam’s and O’Brien’s, “There could have been more lives lost, sir, had your men not acted as swiftly as they did.”

 

Adam could only nod.  As far as he was concerned, even one man’s life was one life too many and the memory of young  Makepiece’s face came to his mind.  No child should have died as he had done,  especially when on board his - Adam Cartwright’s - ship.

 

He turned to watch the Ainola in her last agonies.  Davies and O’Brien flanked him on either side.  He was aware of other people on the pier now, the injured being cared for, taken away, but the dead remaining, laid out upon the hard stone  in the same manner as seamen pack herrings in a box.    A shudder ran down his spine.   Last night he had been on shore and got drunk - and it broke his heart to admit it - last night he should have been on board with his men, on his ship.

 

   Chapter 100

 

 

They came for him late that afternoon.   The charges were Dereliction of Duty and

Conduct unbecoming an Officer.   He made no protest but left under escort to the Naval Prison where he was read his rights,  and led to his cell.

 

Once the door clanged behind him Adam Cartwright went to the bunk and sat down to think.  He had made no protest because he had felt in his own heart of hearts that he was guilty as charged.    Even though he had left his ship in the capable hands of a qualified and efficient officer , had the right as the Captain of the ship to take shore leave, he still felt guilty.    As for conduct unbecoming to an officer, well, he had allowed himself to get drunk, but it had been in a private home, and so far as he knew, his conduct had not been unbecoming.  Nevertheless,  he couldn’t contest it because he had the deaths of 9 men, two boys,  on his conscience.  There was also the matter of seven men whose injuries were so severe they would never work again.  Plus five bodies still to be recovered.   It could not, he felt, get any worse so why waste time worrying about misconduct because he was drunk.

 

There were things to think about too.  Things he needed to set out in order in his own mind,  and then he would be able to think of other things, straighten them out as and when required.

 

It all centred around Commodore Pelman.   He drew a pyramid in the dust on the floor with his forefinger … Pelman.    His wife was a cousin to the Eugenes.   That gave Pelman a connection to one of the wealthiest families in the state of California.  He put down her name and that of Andre and Harry.    Then there was Metcalfe.  He chewed his bottom lip and frowned,  could it possibly be  the same family ?  If by any stretch of the imagination Jeffrey Metcalfe had been the cousin of the Eugenes then was it not possible to go one step further and assume that Mrs Pelman was Jeffrey’s sister?

 

He leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes.   Now if he could only remember what had happened the previous evening at the Eugenes.   

 

……………………

 

Cassandra Pelman removed her ear rings and began to unravel her hair.   There was no doubt about it she was beautiful.   Her mirror confirmed that fact every time she looked into it.   She gave herself a vague half smile before looking up at her maid and giving her the signal to commence brushing her hair.

 

She had not expected Captain Adam Cartwright to be such a strikingly attractive man.   That had caught her by surprise.   The horror and dismay on his face when her news had crystallized in his mind had actually caused her to feel a pang of sympathy for him, and the way he had ridden that horse - even now her heart missed a beat at the memory of him and the horse soaring over the garden borders.   

 

It was just so unfair the way life created these dilemma’s.   Pelman and Jeffery had got themselves into a mess and had expected her to think of a way to get them out of it.  Where was Jeffery anyway?  

 

“Not so hard, what’s the matter with you tonight,?”  she looked at the girl in the mirror and shook her head, “Go away, I’ll do it myself.”

 

It wasn’t fair to treat the girl like that, she told herself, it wasn’t her fault after all.  She pulled the brush through the thick hair, curled the end of each strand around her finger.

 

“Pelman -” she looked over at her husband who was reading through some papers on the other side of the room,  “do you know where Jeffery is?”

 

“No and I don’t want to either.  He’s been trouble for years, nothing but trouble.  Caused me to lose a lot of money during the war.”  Pelman scowled and then looked over at  her, smiled and rose to his feet.

 

She didn’t like his fat hands clawing at her and braced herself not to recoil when he placed each hand on her shoulders, dropped a kiss upon the top of her head, and smiled at her (or was it his own) reflection in the mirror

 

“That was a good idea of yours, my dear.  It worked wonderfully.  Our  maverick is now corralled safely in a cell awaiting a court martial.  It’s all worked out just as I had hoped.”

 

“Except that you had wanted him dead, Pelly.”

 

“Yes,  but dead is dead isn’t it?   With the disgrace of a court martial hanging over his head - well, he’ll have to live with that all his life.   It won’t be easy for him to do that, and  that suits me fine.”

 

“Hate’s an odd emotion -” she murmured, “Do you really think it’s as close to love as they say?”

 

“I can assure you there isn’t a flicker of love in the hate I have for him.” Pelman scowled,  “You’re talking nonsense - love and hate - what put that idea into your head?”

 

“I don’t know.  Some poetry I read -”  she twitched her shoulders, the signal for him to leave her alone, and when he had stepped back and away from her, she recommenced brushing her hair.   “I’d not seen him before, he’s very attractive.”

 

“All the Cartwright’s are handsome men.” Pelman admitted.

 

“So why do you hate him so much?”

 

“Why do you have to keep asking me?”

 

“Because you won’t tell me and I’m curious - after all, I am a woman, and women like to know these things.” she smiled over at him and  then returned to study her reflection in the mirror.    “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to -”   she put the mirror down and rose to her feet.

 

Pelman loved his wife, she was the most beautiful thing to happen in his life and even if he accepted the fact that she didn’t love him, it didn’t matter.   Like any egoist a possession was a possession, and marriage to her had elevated him into wealth and power.   He now marvelled at the sight of her once again,  and stretched out his hand towards her

 

“Not tonight, Pelly, I have a head ache.  There’s been just too much going on today and I still haven’t organised who to invite to the dinner for the President.   You haven’t even told me the dates yet for his visit.”

 

Pelman wasn’t interested in the President’s visit.  He picked up his papers and without a word to his wife, left the room.

 

………………..

 

Mr and Mrs O’Flaherty were sitting on the settee in their room.  She had her head resting upon his shoulder and he was gently stroking her hair.   It had been a long day, but now they had a little private time together and this was how they liked to end each day before retiring to bed.

 

“Seamus ,  that poor gentleman -”

 

“Hush, it isn’t any of our business.  Don’t think about it any more, my love.”

 

“I can’t help but think about him.   Him being so ill -”   she frowned, “I ‘ll have to go to the priest tomorrow, Seamus, truly I will.”

 

“And get us kicked out of here?  This is a good position, Kate, we can’t afford to lose it.”

 

“I’d rather lose it and live in a hovel than have a bad conscience.”

 

“Whist, girl, you’ll be the ruin of me.”

 

“And what about him, and him being such a fine gentleman and not knowing  what day of the week it is with what we did to him?   Poor man.  Then the news of his ship being burned to bits.   They say there are bodies floating all about the harbour -”

 

“People will say anything to make news.  Don’t listen to them, my dear.”

 

Kate O’Flaherty shook her head, and stared at the pictures of the various saints on her wall.   All the way from the homeland they had come and hadn’t she just disgraced them all?   Heavens forbid, it would be to the priest she would have to go in the morning despite anything Seamus said.

 

Seamus stared at the rug on the floor and felt anxiety gnaw at his stomach.   If Kate went to the priest surely to goodness the master would be fuming.   He wouldn’t understand that priests have to keep things said in the confessional secret.   He’d think Kate had told the world.  Seamus felt suddenly nauseous, things could get dangerous.

 

……………………

 

Harry Eugene stood by the window and stared out into the darkness beyond.  Here and there lights twinkled.   He took a long swig from the glass of whiskey, and felt it burn its way down his throat.  If only he could burn out his memories that easily, he thought, if only he were more like Andre and able to forget one’s obligations and loyalties.   Father had been a great one for remembering things like that, people and events.  But Andre only used people, just like Pelman did, and Harry - hapless Harry they called him - he was one they used and he hated it, hated it.

 

…………………..

 

Daniel O’Brien paced the floor of his hotel room and longed for peace of mind.   When Adam had been arrested and taken away it seemed as though the world had gone mad.   There had to  be something he could do - someone to whom he could talk?

 

He sat down and buried his face in his hands.  Life had been a nightmare now for weeks on end, he wasn’t sure whether he could bear many more weeks like it.

 

Chapter 101.

 

As the light faded from the cell, Adam stretched out on the bed to try to sleep.   He opened his eyes and stared into the gloom about him, his mind once again caught up in the turmoil of all that had taken place.

 

“Why a fireship?  They would have known it would kill people.  I can’t be held responsible for that surely?     There has to be a weak link in this chain somewhere?” unconsciously his restless fingers began to pick at the bandages that bound his injured hand and he thought of the morning when O’Flaherty had woken him, even mentioned that his wife had cleansed and rebound up his hand.  But wasn’t O’Flaherty the Eugenes butler?   When would a butler consent to be a valet for a mere guest?

 

He sat upright now, and once again leaned against the wall as he drew his knees up against his chest and folded his arms upon them.   O’Flaherty who shaved him and gave him coffee … no, said his wife had made the coffee.  But why?  Uncommonly good of her, but not usual.   Had he slept after he had drunk the coffee?   He passed his hand along his jaw line, there was stubble there now, pricking against his fingers.  But he had been given a very close shave by the willing butler cum valet.

 

Why would a butler / valet’s wife be so kind and helpful?  It just was not customary.  He remembered how weary he was, not just weary, his whole body had felt heavy and he had had to lean a lot on O’Flaherty to get from the bed to the chair. 

 

What could he remember from the previous evening?  Why bother thinking about it again, had he not already turned it over and over until it was near to driving him mad?  He remembered the meal, not as good as Hop Sings but pleasant enough.  His host and hostess were there, Henry had come not long before they were to sit down to eat.   Anything unusual in that?  He had come and spoken to Andre in low tones, and Jeannette had taken Adam’s arm and led him to the window to show off the garden, and talked a lot of rubbish about some play that was being shown.  The meal had been eaten in near silence.  Henry had been particularly so, not meeting his eyes, not wanting to talk but this morning he had been willing to talk enough - hadn’t he?

 

Andre and Henry Eugene.  He had known them both when much younger,  when they had not had the wealth they enjoyed now.   If Ben had not been so loyal to his friend then perhaps the two brothers would never have had the money they now possessed.   Didn’t Henry mention that ?  Yes, he had but what was the point the had been making?

 

After the meal they had gone into the next room, drinks had been poured, Jeannette had left.  Adam forced his mind to see the four of them in the room - Jeannette laughing about something, leaning towards her husband, a look that passed between them - not a loving look, not one that a wife would share with a husband but -  Adam shook his head, was he being fanciful now.?

 

He had been drunk once in his life.  He had been thirteen years of age and had sneaked a bottle of cherry brandy out of the house.  He recalled how he had crept up to the hay loft with the booze,  a book,  and one of Ben’s pipes.  He was going to be a total rebel and try every vice he could think of - or rather - that was available at the time.    He remembered the rather blissful state of slowly slipping into intoxication, puffing at Ben’s pipe, feeling sick.   He abandoned the pipe, got thoroughly drunk and fell out of the hay loft.  The hay had gone on fire. 

 

Ben had administered the necessary discipline once he was considered well enough to handle it.   But that wasn’t the point he was dwelling upon now…  the fact of the matter was that he had never been drunk since then, had never wanted to lose control of himself and any situation in which he happened to be, whether a card game in town, or on his own on the trail.     No.   Adam Cartwright needed to be always in control of whatever was happening.   But last night there had been no blissful slide into intoxication.  No stupid head whirling, knees weakening, nothing.  Just black shut down.   Total cut off.   Just one minute picking up his glass, the next he was waking up to O’Flaherty talking nonsense about beds.   And all the time his ship was burning, his men were dying.   And they knew …

 

………………………….

 

Daniel O’Brien woke up with a jolt.   The knocking on his door was loud and persistent, and so with bleary eyes he stumbled across the floor and pulled it open.

 

“Jotham?”

 

“Daniel -” Jotham Morton stepped into the room and then proceeded to give his cousin a bear hug of a greeting.  “I have looked high and low for you, cousin.   This is the sixth hotel I’ve checked at -”

 

“Jotham!”

 

“Yes, I know, it’s me -” he laughed and then looked at his cousin, his eyes scanned the haggard face, the sunken eyes, the tousled hair,  “Great Scott, Daniel, you look awful.”

 

“Then I look as I feel,” Daniel replied, and grabbed at his cousin’s arm, “What are you doing here?” he pushed Jotham into a chair, and pulled up a chair opposite to him, “We left you at the way station and I never heard from you since.”

 

“I know - but I didn’t know where you had gone except onto the Ainola.” he sighed and shook his head, “She’s a real mess now, isn’t she?  I saw her remains smoking away in the  harbour.   What happened?”

 

“I’ll tell you the whole sorry story over breakfast.   Just tell me what has happened to you since we parted.”  Daniels’ face broke into a smile, “I am pleased to see you , Jotham.  I was beginning to think there was no one left here that I could trust.” and he leaned forward to give Jotham’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

 

“Well, I was pretty ill after  you left me.   Not much good for a while, and the Nesbitts got me into a wagon and took me to the nearest doctors in a place called Genoa.  It’s a pretty small place.” he frowned, shrugged, obviously Genoa didn’t make much of an impression on him, “Then when I got back to full health I got the stage to ‘Frisco.  I got a posting onto a ship under a Captain Jenkins - not the most pleasant of men to serve under, believe me.”   he sighed, “Anyway, I got back a few days ago.  Had no idea you were here.” he looked at his cousin anxiously, “Then when I saw the Ainola this morning, I just had to find you to make sure you were safe.”

 

“I’m safe, thank God.” 

 

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw your signature in the register, I didn’t really want to spend too long tramping around town looking for you, so once I recognised your name I ordered room service.  You can tell me all your adventures while we eat …” and he rose to his feet to open the door as a polite tapping had  been heard for some time.

 

………………………….

 

Kate O’Flaherty still had her head covering on when she hurried down the steps from the church.   She had made her confession to the priest, offered up her prayers (five Hail Mary’s, an Act of Contrition, and a promise to do her rosary twice every morning) and was thinking over what the priest had said in the way of advice to her and her husband (to be sure when will we be seeing our Mr Seamus O’Flaherty at church again, Mrs O’Flaherty?  You be telling the good man he’s missed’)

 

“Kate.  Kate -” there was Seamus, all red in the face, grabbing at her arm and roughly pulling her down the last two steps “What are you doing here, girl?  Are you trying to ruin us?”

 

“No, Seamus, not at all, but I have to have a clean conscience, and even though I’ve said me penance, I still can’t feel right.”

 

“Shame on you, girl.   Didn’t I tell you last night not to be bothering the priest?   Do you want to lose your job then?”

 

Kate O’Flaherty shook her head, and shook her arm free for good measure, then tight lipped and chin held high she walked briskly back towards the long tree lined avenue with Seamus hurrying alongside her.

 

“Kate, if Mr Eugene hears that you have been here, he’ll think you are telling tales about things that are strictly private.   Didn’t he trust me?   If he trust me, don’t you think you should trust me also?”

 

She stopped and looked at him, stared into his eyes, shook her head again as disappointment and misery rose within her,

 

“Seamus, I have always trusted you.  But look where it has got me?   You don’t go to church, you get involved in something that is very wrong,  you could get into even deeper trouble if you stay in that household.  Seamus, please believe me, I had to tell the priest and do my penance.   But I won’t have a clean conscience until I have completed it.”

 

“Completed it?  What do you mean, you stupid girl?”

 

“The father said I was to go to the police and tell them what we did.”

 

Seamus reeled back, his face white and stricken, he lost his voice - not good for an Irishman - and croaked something unintelligible before grabbing at her wrist and pulling her along with him.

 

“Leave me be, Seamus.  Leave me be -”

 

“Don’t you realise, Kate, what you’ve done?” he hissed into her ear as they made their way back to the Eugene house, he pulling at her and she struggling to be free, “You will have ruined us both, and the master too.”

 

“The master has the money to pay his way out of this mess, Seamus.  Who do you think he’ll put the blame onto?   He’ll say that we put the mickey finn into the gentleman’s drink in order to rob him.”

 

“You’re going crazy.  Another word from you, girl, and I’ll beat the hide from ye.”

 

Kate was crying now, blubbing like a baby, pulling at his grip on her wrist, frightened by the priest, terrified of her husband, she knew that she would have to agree to what he said, he had beaten her once before and just the threat of it was more than enough now.

 

……………………………….

 

The door to the cell opened and they brought him some food.  Each man clean and smart, they set down the food and saluted him politely.   They respected his office, but the man - well, there was a big question mark over the man.

 

He drank the coffee, pulled the bread into pieces and ate them slowly, had more coffee, pushed away the plate of food.   He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace the cell, up and down,  up and down.   Think of poetry, some poems … think of home, think of Hoss and Joe and Pa.   He paused - had they got his letters?  Had they received the documents?    If they had then, thank God, there was light at the end of the tunnel after all.

 

 

Chapter 102

 

The door to the cell opened and an Officer stepped inside, waited as two men came to place a small table and a chair in the centre before they stepped back to guard the door.  Adam watched such actions with some slight bemusement, and then stood up politely to accept the salute which he reciprocated as the Officer was of equal rank to himself.

 

“Captain Cartwright, I’ve just come to - herhum - go through some of the procedure with you, and to ask if you have anyone representing you?”

 

“I know that as my ship is lost I would have been called upon to bring about a court martial in order for there to be an explanation for the loss.” Adam replied and sat down on the chair that had been provided for him.

 

“That’s correct, whether or not you were in any way responsible for the loss is irrelevant,  and no blame would be attached to you -” the officer paused,  “David Sewell by the way.” 

 

They shook hands over the table, and then David began to pull out papers and explain various aspects of procedure and method which was extremely deep and to Adam’s mind irrelevant.    He listened attentively however and finally agreed that he would appoint a lawyer that had represented the Cartwrights for a number of years in business matters.  

 

“Now, we come to the charges against you -” David Sewell looked at the Captain and frowned, “they are serious.”

 

“But without foundation.”

 

“There are witnesses that will be called to attest against you.”

 

“Have you their statements already?”

 

“Some of them.” David replied quietly, “Some very prominent people -”

 

“I can call my own witnesses to attest on my behalf.”  Adam replied, although he said so very quietly.

 

“Very well, sir.   Commodore Pelman wanted the proceedings to take place before the visit of the President.   Will you have time to prepare your defence?”

 

“It depends on how much time that is -” Adam drawled, and twisted a pencil between his fingers.

 

“In two days -”

 

“Two days?” Adam sat bolt upright, “That’s a ridiculously short time.”

 

“It isn’t against procedure.   Sometimes there can be only 24 hours notice.”

 

Adam scowled but said nothing, he asked for some paper and wrote down the name of the Lawyers, and some names of those whom he hoped would testify for him.  He gave them to Sewell, and stood up as the audience had obviously come to an end.

 

“You look as though you’ve been in the wars -” Sewell nodded towards the bandaged hand, then looked with respect at Adam “I heard through the grapevine that you had been involved in some particular assignment - if I can be of any assistance at all let me know.”

 

“I’d like to speak to my first Lieutenant, Daniel O’Brien.”

 

“Anything else?”

 

Adam looked at Sewell, was about to speak but stopped.  He didn’t know the man, and now he didn’t really know whom he could trust anymore.

 

………………………

 

Jotham  had stopped eating half way through Daniel’s narrative.   One of his greatest gifts was that he born to be a great listener.  He allowed Daniel to talk until he had run himself dry, and then he gently probed with questions - tentatively asked at first, but growing bolder the more freely Daniel expressed himself.

 

He was shocked at the disclosure about Maria, but was wise enough to sympathise and say nothing more.   He agreed that Daniel had done the wisest thing in putting her on a ship to France.

 

“And what about the Captain?  Where is he now?”

 

“That’s the problem - they’ve arrested him.”

 

“What for?”

 

Daniel proceeded to tell Jotham the whole sorry story,  before getting up (for about the third time) to pace the floor,

 

“I’ve never seen the Captain drunk, never.   I’ve never known him to do anything that would disgrace the service.   Jotham - Pelman is determined to ruin Adam’s reputation because of those documents.  He doesn’t know where Adam’s put them and he’s scared witless.”

 

“Well,  that’s what we’ve got to prove then.” Jotham replied, “It won’t be easy, Daniel.  Pelman has a lot of influence and a considerable amount of prestige among  the Officers, Captain Jenkins thinks he’s next best thing to the President.” he frowned, “Having said that, I probably should have said to General Lee, I’ve a feeling Jenkins had Southern sympathies.    He knew Captain Cartwright from some  years back when they sailed together under Captain Greaves.”

 

“Well, if he‘s on the panel with Pelman then Adam stands little chance of a fair hearing.”  Daniel groaned.

 

“Where was the Captain when he was told about the fire?”

 

“Some people called Eugene.”  Daniel slumped back down onto the chair and picked up the coffee pot, then proceeded to pour them both what remained in it.

 

“Henry Eugene?”

 

“That sounds familiar,”  Daniel frowned, “But I think Adam was staying at some friends of the family - Henry was the younger brother.”  he took a sip of the nearly cold coffee and grimaced, “It was Mrs Pelman who  told Adam about the Ainola being on fire.”

 

Jotham  didn’t speak for a moment.   Some minutes ticked by before he did speak again after returning the cup to its saucer, and leaning towards his cousin he said

 

“I know Henry Eugene.   Scared of his own shadow.   I could put it to him straight that I know he’s up to his neck in dirty dealings involving Adam Cartwright.” his mouth twisted into a not too pleasant smile, “Friends of the family - huh.  Henry wouldn’t know how to be a friend to anyone unless his brother told him. “

 

“Shall I come with you?”  Daniel bounded up from his seat, feeling more optimistic now and  hopeful that there would be some positive outcome from Jotham’s plans.

 

“No, two may intimidate him.   But I tell you what may be a good idea -”  he frowned as he thought through his plan “Go to the Eugene’s house”

 

“Talk to the brother do you mean?”

 

“No,  don’t do that, we don’t want to show them our cards - not that we have many to be honest, but they needn’t know that,  the best people to talk to are the servants.   See if you can chat up one of the maids or the butler.   They’re loyalty only amounts to the dollars they’re given.”

 

Daniel smiled, and placed a hand on Jotham’s shoulder just long enough  for his cousin to know just how much his advice was appreciated.   

 

“If the Eugene’s are part of Pelmans little group here, then I can guarantee that Henry - or Hapless Harry as he’s known in the ranks - will be quivering in his boots.”

And Jotham  gave his cousin a light slap on the back as he passed him on the way to the door.

 

Two good looking young men, bearing the similarity in looks that can be found in cousins, they left the hotel room together, and at the steps leading down to the main street they parted.

Adam put down the papers that Sewell had left for him to read and rose to his feet slowly.   He rubbed his brow and began to pace the floor.  From beyond the walls of his cell he could hear the chime of a church clock, it was already nearly four o’clock of the afternoon.    He walked with his head down, his eyes fixed to the flagstones,  his mind turning over facts, events … shuffling them like so many cards in his head.   

 

The door opened and his guards entered the cell accompanied by a man in civilian dress who looked at Adam rather severely before breaking into a smile, he extended his hand

 

“Hello, Adam, good to see you again.  What kind of mess have you got yourself into this time?”

 

Mulholland sat down, adjusted his pants so that the creases weren’t mussed up, and produced some papers from a case he had brought in with him

 

“Very thorough those chaps.  Inspected everything in case I had smuggled in a gun or something.    They’re acting scared -”

 

“That’s good to know -” Adam replied dryly and sat down on the bed opposite his lawyer, “I’m glad you came,  Ernest.  Have you dealt with a court martial hearing before?”

 

“Several times.”  Ernest smiled honestly, and then he shrugged, “The thing is, Adam, those cases were pretty straightforward.   This one is complicated -”  he looked at Adam thoughtfully, before spreading the papers out onto the table, “For a start the Commodore wants to hang your hide up to dry, and he’s gathering witnesses from all over to attest against you.”

 

Chapter 103

 

Cassandra Pelman and Jeannette Eugene were strolling arm in arm along the lawns of the big house when a horseman cantered along the drive to the stables.  Niether woman did more than cast a cursory glance over at him as they were both far too engrossed in their conversation which revolved around clothes, food and President Grant.  It was as though by mutual consent both women had chosen to shut their minds from the more sordid dealings of their husbands and to concentrate on the more pleasing aspects of their lives.  

 

Both knew that recognition by the President would stand them in great stead, elevate them to a better class of people - although they would never had admitted not being part of such a class already.

 

Daniel O’Brien continued towards the stables having noticed the women as he had entered the driveway.   Returning the horse had been the best opportunity he could have had to gain entry and he cursed himself for a fool in not having thought of it much sooner.    No one seemed to take much noticed of the young man dressed smartly in the uniform of a Naval Officer riding the horse into the driveway.   It wasn’t until he had dismounted and looked anxiously about him that a man, the groom, emerged from one of the out buildings.

 

“I’ve returned your horse -” Daniel smiled and held out the reins with an obliging air which the groom accepted at face value as he took the reins back, “My Captain sends his apologies for the delay in bringing him back.  He’s been well fed, watered and such.”

 

“Aye, sir.  I can tell from the cut of  your gib that you don’t know much about horses, sir.  Else you’d know this was a female horse -” and the groom  gave a chuckle deep in his throat, “Mind you, the other gentleman, he did know his horses, the way he rode out of here was a sight none of us will forget in a hurry.”

 

“Is that right?” Daniel replied having hastily lowered his gaze to confirm that yes, the horse was indeed a pretty little mare.

 

“Flew over that wall.  Never thought our  Jonelle would have been so obedient to a strangers touch, but she certainly didn’t put up any fight with him.”

 

“Have you - did you talk to Captain Cartwright at all during his stay?”

 

“No, not this time.  Have had in the past when he and his Pa used to visit on business with Mr Eugene’s father.    He’s a good man, is the Captain, despite what they say.”

 

“Despite who says what?” Daniel asked with a slight hardening of the voice, and his eyes narrowed despite his attempts to appear relaxed and casual.

 

“Talk about his being drunk and falling all over the place.   I don’t believe it for a minute.”  he caressed Jonelle’s soft nose gently with a calloused hand, “Some strange things go on at times, not that I know anything, because I don’t, but it has to be said, I don’t believe that Mr - I mean - Captain Cartwright would ever do anything that would disgrace his name, let alone his office.”  he glanced over the mare’s neck and grimaced, “Best say no more, sir, if you know what I mean -” and he gave Daniel a wink of the eye and quickly turned the horse around and led her to her stable.

 

Daniel was about to follow, wondering why he had so quickly decided to depart when he heard a voice behind him

 

“Is there anything I can do for you, sir?”

 

Turning slowly Daniel found himself looking at a thickset man dressed very smartly in the uniform or as some would call it, the livery, of a butler.   He raised his chin challengingly having noticed that behind the deferential tones the butler was looking at him with unwarranted coldness and hostility.  He flashed his most charming smile,

 

“Thank you, I was returning the - mare - to the stables.   She’s been well cared for, I promise you.  The Captain sends his apologies for the haste in which he took her, but I’m sure your master must appreciate the circumstances.”

 

“Yes, indeed, sir.  Horse theft is still a hanging offence in these parts, sir.” O’Flaherty sniffed as though smelling a bad odour, and he glanced towards the harbour where a plume of smoke still rose skywards, “Pity about the ship, sir.”

 

“More the pity to those who caused it to happen I would say,  and for the poor souls they murdered as a result.” his voice was harsh, harsher than he had intended.  He was aware of the fact that Jotham would be shaking his head by now,  and he wished that he had some of Jotham’s ability to wheedle information out of people.

 

“Murdered?  No, I don’t think so, sir.” O’Flaherty stammered, just slightly, and his jowls had reddened.  He cleared his throat, “Haven’t heard about any murders, sir, beg your pardon.”

 

“Oh yes, murders alright.   Nine dead so far, good men too.   I could have been one of them -”  his voice trailed away as he saw the way the man’s eyes had widened, the furtive blinking, and the moist mouth, he stepped forward and O’Flaherty took an abrupt step backwards, “I suppose you couldn’t get me a drink of water, could you?  I get rather distressed when talking about it, if you understand?”

 

O’Flaherty looked at him, considered for a moment, and  then nodded,

 

“If you would come this way, sir.” he murmured.

 

Daniel followed the other man from the drive way to the back door, obviously the tradesman’s entrance, and was politely ushered into what was the kitchen.   A big red armed woman was stirring what looked like cake mix in a bowl and glared hostilely at him, while two other young women looked, smiled, fluttered their eye lashes.

 

“Mable, get this gentleman a glass of water.” O’Flaherty said, and then looked at O’Brien with a rather strange smile, “Unless you’d prefer some beer?   Water isn’t always that drinkable up here.”

 

A footstep upon the stairs and O’Brien turned to see a young woman with red hair step from the upper rooms into the kitchen.   She was quite an attractive woman but her looks were spoilt by the swelling around her eye which was severe enough to close it entirely.   O’Brien could see her hands were shaking as she put down a tray upon the table.  Glancing quickly over at O’Brien, for his body obscured the light from the small kitchen window, she jumped, and gave a cry of alarm

 

“Mercy -” she whispered.

 

“That’s enough, Kate.” O’Flaherty stepped forward and put a hand on the woman’s air, the pressure, O’Brien could see was hard for she gave a low cry of pain.  “My wife, sir, she has strange fancies at times.”  he explained to the Officer, who had appeared to be about to interfere, then he turned to Kate “Go back upstairs.  Do something  with that face of yours -” he hissed.

 

With a frightened rabbit eyed look at O’Brien Kate turned and hurried up the steps, stumbling occasionally as she did so.  O’Flaherty gave O’Brien the beer, and smiled,

 

“She fell over and bumped her face -” he said quickly but O’Brien noticed the swift look that passed between the cook and her two assistants as he raised the tankard to his lips.

 

“Thank you, Mr -” O’Brien paused and waited for the manservant to give his name which he did,  “Well, it seems we both have a connection to the old country, Mr O’Flaherty.  I - being an O’Brien.”

 

“Indeed, sir.” O’Flaherty smiled but his eyes grew warier, in the back of his mind he could recall this name being mentioned by his master and mistress, he cast a quick glance at the bells above the  doorway, then back again at O’Brien, “If you’ll excuse me now, sir, I have to attend to my work.”

 

“Of course.  Thank you for the drink.”

 

O’Brien put the tankard down, intended to linger but O’Flaherty, as though he suspected O’Brien’s actions to be exactly that,  remained in the kitchen with a blank look on his face and that vacuous smile.

 

O’Brien left and returned to the driveway, he looked over at the stables where the horse and groom had now disappeared.  He stroked his chin thoughtfully and as he turned to make his way down from the house he smiled.  He knew exactly who he would be calling on next for a little tete a tete, but not just now for he sensed that O’Flaherty was nervous,  and too much too soon could be even worse than not enough.      He walked thoughtfully towards the gate that would lead him to the main road.   O’Flaherty - a good Irish name and no doubt Kate was a good Catholic girl, who would never miss attending the confessional when her conscience troubled her.  He nodded, and she was troubled, her reaction at seeing him, or rather his uniform, was certainly confirmation of that fact.

 

……………………

 

Henry Eugene swallowed, gulped, nearly choked.  He shook his head warily from side to side,

 

“Look, Morton, I don’t know what you’re talking about,  all this business has nothing to do with me.    It shouldn’t have anything to do with you either, so why are you here?” his voice ended in a squeak, he was indeed a very miserable speciman of a man.

 

Jotham, perched on t he corner of a desk and swinging his legs back and forth, looked at Henry with anxious eyes and he sighed, shook his head sorrowfully.

 

“I am sorry for  you, Harry.   You’ve really got yourself mixed up in the worse kind of mess.   Don’t you realise that this matter involves the President of the United States?   Don’t you realise, also, that compared to Pelman and your brother, you’re just a little fish in the mess?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean - I just wish wish you would go away.” Henry bleated, sadly no other word to describe it, he bleated.

 

“Let me spell it out for you then - you work here,  as a clerk.  You’re a lieutenant - not truly earned, not in the way a good hearty seaman earns his commission, but purchased by your rich ‘’daddy’.   You know, the real seamen, and officers, rather think your type not worth bothering with, that’s probably why Pelman decided you were such an easy target to use.   Who did he approach first - you or your brother?”

 

“He didn’t -” Henry snapped, pulling out some files from a drawer and slamming them down upon his desk.   He glanced nervously around and longed for someone else to come into the room and save him from this interrogation, “He didn’t approach me. I don’t know what you are talking about -”

 

“Yes, you do. “ Jotham swung down from the desk and walked to the other man’s side, “Look, they won’t care about you when this is all over.  You’ll be the first they’ll throw to the dogs when they get found out.  They will get found out, Harry.   The documents -”

 

“What do you know about any documents?” Harry blanched, and his eyes widened, “What documents?”

 

“The documents that’s got you all so worried.  The documents Pelman can’t find.    The documents that has seen the deaths of good honest seamen, Harry.  Men whose boots you aren’t fit to lick -” Jotham stepped back, and shook his head, “You’re disgusting.”

 

He made to walk away, his shoulders rounded, his stance that of a man who could no longer stand being in the presence of the other.   Henry watched him go, papers from one of the files he held, slipped through his fingers and onto the floor.

 

Jotham Morton sighed.  It hadn’t been so successful after all.   He had hoped for much more than that, and regretted not being able to find the right lever to get the wretch to speak up.  As he made his way down the wide staircase to the foyer,  he appreciated on thing at least, Henry was scared, and scared enough to talk to others.   If he went to Pelman, or Andre, it hardly mattered.  At least they would know that there was some support for the Captain, and not everything they had done was that safely hidden away.

 

………………………..

 

Jonas Thaler slid into the office and leaned down to pick up some papers that had slipped from a file onto the floor.

 

“Thank you,” Henry stuttered and then dropped them again, “Oh, Mr Thaler, it’s you.”

 

“Exactly.” Jonas smiled coldly and placed some papers in Henry’s hands, “What did he want?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Don’t be stupid, Henry.  You know who I mean -”

 

“Oh, he was here, just asking some questions.”

 

“Questions?  What about?”  Jonas’ narrow eyes squinted into slits and his face was now almost nose to nose with the younger mans, Henry quailed,  he could smell garlic on the other man’s breath.

 

“Questions about - about when President Grant was expected here.  He needed to know some things -”

 

“Such as -?”

 

“I - I don’t know exactly.  He’s on Captain Jenkins ship- he’d know.”

 

Jonas frowned.  It was obvious Henry was scared, but then it didn’t take much for Henry to be scared of anything.  He had warned Pelman that Henry was a weak link and couldn’t be trusted, but Pelman had insisted that his wife knew her cousins well enough to trust and rely upon.  Even so -?   Thayer gave Henry another dark glance and turned to go,  he paused at the door and glanced back to where the other man was fumbling through the papers.  He was too nervous for his own good, Thaler thought,  far too nervous.

 

……………………..

 

Adam was chewing the end of the pencil and listening to Ernest Mulholland who was reading aloud from the papers in his hand.  At the end of the reading Ernest looked up at the other man and frowned,

 

“Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?”

 

“Quite sure.”

 

“These are really very serious charges, Adam.”

 

Adam shrugged, a twitch of the broad shoulders, a quick pout of the lips.  He looked up at Ernest,

 

“They’re true, though.” he cast the pencil back onto the table and stood up, gave a wide sweeping gesture with his hands, “I’m not going to sit here and let Pelman have the satisfaction of thinking he can just walk over me.  I’m not scared of a rat like him, and he knows it.   Send those papers to his lawyer.  I’m charging him with everything I can think of - from slander, to murder, to treason.  If he thinks he can hang a Cartwright out to dry, he’s going to learn the hard way that it won’t happen.”

 

“But, Adam, treason?”

 

“Is treason less important than murder?” Adam’s voice was harsh, clipped, deep.  He thumped his clenched fist upon the desk, “I’ve seen good men killed because of him.  Dang it, he burned my ship!”

 

“Very well.” Ernest collected the papers together and smiled, “We’ll put in a counter claim.  This will really upset the panel -” he saw the slight frown on Adam’s face and nodded, “Oh yes, Pelman has the panel all set up ready to preside over your court martial, Adam.  He’s really anxious to get this over and done with -” he slipped the papers into his briefcase and stood up, “I’ll get this organised right away.”

 

“And don’t forget to cable my Pa.”

 

“I won’t.”  Mulholland shook Adam’s hand and grinned, “I wish I could see Pelman’s face when he receives the papers informing him of your counterclaim.”

 

Adam smiled too,  then raised his eyebrows, and shrugged.   He watched as Mulholland left the cell and the door closed behind him.  Then with a thoughtful countenance he resumed his seat on the bed, leaning against the wall with one leg drawn up upon it.    

 

Chapter 104

 

The Manager of  one of the most exclusive hotels in San Francisco was slightly annoyed at being called out of a business meeting by his receptionist clerk.   The bearded gentleman standing in the foyer looked familiar, but was well spoken, obviously very wealthy and had an entourage of two other men with him.  One of these men took the Manager to one side and whispered something in his ear, produced a document which the Manager avidly read through and almost passing out with apoplexy hurried to usher his ‘extra special guests’ to the best suite in the hotel.

 

“Who was that, sir?” the clerk asked, glancing up with a slight frown and wondering why there was such an element of secrecy.

 

“I - er - hum -” and the Manager wandered off into his private office, closed the door and pulled down the blinds, then treated himself to a stiff drink.

 

The clerk looked at the register that had been signed by one of the three men and read “Mr John Smith and Company.  Washington”

 

…………………………..

 

Eddy at the Telegraph Office in Virginia City read the cablegram and frowned.  He looked over at the sheriff who was rummaging about the papers for some message he had meant to send and forgotten,

 

“Hey, Sheriff, I jest got a cable from Adam Cartwright -”

 

“Oh?” Roy peered over his glasses at Eddy who peered down his nose at Roy.

 

“He says it’s urgent that his Pa git to San Francisco soon as he can with the papers.”

 

“So what’s the problem?” Roy took off his glasses and polished them robustly, before replacing them and peering through them at Eddy,

 

“Wal, jest that Ben should be there by now -”

 

“Then send a cable to Adam and tell him so -”  Roy shook his head, he didn’t know what youngsters were like nowadays, just no initiative about them at all it seemed to him.

 

“Right, I guess I’d best go ahead and do that -”  Eddy nodded and set to the task of replying to Adam Cartwright, care of Mulholland, Duchane and Rutherford,  San Francisco.

………………………….

 

“D’you know, Pa, last time I was at this here hotel they served up jest about the best lunch I ever did have side from Hop Sing’s roast pork.”  Hoss looked around the hotel with a wide smile on his face, “Yes sir, I reckon that I could jest about eat my way through a whole hog by now.”

 

“I daresay you could, Hoss.” Ben smiled and signed the register, took the key and turned to his son, “Let’s get settled into the hotel and then organise our day.  First of all, I want to see Adam.”

 

“Yeah, but how’s we to know where he is?”

 

“He’ll be on board his ship, of course.” Ben smiled and picked up his valise.

 

They mounted the stairs to the room allocated to them, unlocked the door and put their bags down.  It was a large and airy room, with a good view of the harbour.  Ben walked to t he window and looked out, then grimaced,

 

“What’s wrong, Pa?”  Hoss ambled to the window and peered over his father’s shoulder, “Shucks, that ain’t exactly a pleasant sight, is it?”

 

“No it isn’t, Hoss.” Ben scowled darkly and shook his head, “I wonder what happened.  Looks like two ships collided and burst into flames.   I’d not have liked being on board either one of them.”  he turned to his son and smiled, “Hungry, Hoss?”

 

“Pa,”  Hoss looked crestfallen at his fathers lack of memory, “Didn’t I jest tell you how good this place was for food?   Last time I came here with Adam, we ate high on the hog I kin tell ya.” 

 

“Well, come on then, we’ll have something to eat and then go and visit Adam.” 

 

………………………

 

Daniel O’Brien and his cousin lingered on the steps of the Catholic Church nearest to the Eugene’s home.  The board outside had given the time for Confessions  and it was getting close to the end of sessions.  Jotham was becoming impatient, striding up and down the last few steps, up and down,  he looked at Daniel and shook his head,

 

“I don’t think she’s coming.”

 

“If she doesn’ it’ll be because she isn’t able to come.    That O’Flaherty looks the kind of man I hate, he’d never hesitate to strike a woman, particularly his wife.”

 

“If she doesn’t come what do you suggest to do?”

 

“Go to the house and demand to see her.”

 

“As her husband he has every right to tell you to clear off, and use his fists if need be.” Jotham muttered.

 

Daniel shook his head, and kicked against the stone step with his booted foot, he hated to admit it but Jotham was right.  He should have seized what opportunities he had the previous day.   Then Jotham grabbed his arm

 

“Is this her?”

 

A young woman, with red hair peeking beneath her shawl which she held over her face so that no one would see the discolouration and swelling on her face.   Her eyes were furtive and darting from one  side of the road to the other,  Jotham twitched at Daniel’s sleeve,

 

“I’ll leave you to  her, I think she’ll feel too overwhelmed if we both go to talk with her.  I’ll go and see the harbour master and find out if he has anything further to report about the fire ship.”

 

O’Brien nodded and listened to his cousin’s footsteps receding down the steps, while he watched the woman coming closer to him.   Just as she began to mount the steps towards the church he approached her and stepped to her side.

 

“Please, Mrs O’Flaherty, don’t be frightened, but I must talk with you.”

 

The poor woman jumped back, clutched nervously more tightly to  her shawl and looked as though she were about to faint with fear.

 

“For mercies sake, sir, if my husband were to see you talking to me he’d have you arrested.”

 

“I don’t want to frighten you, Mrs O’Flaherty, but I really need to talk to you.”

 

“Then follow me into the church- not too close - just in case.”

 

She entered the building first, took a candle and lit it, placing it in its sconce, genuflecting and then hurrying to take a seat at the back of the nave.  Daniel followed her, sitting in the seat just in front,  but seated in such a way as to see who came and who left the church.   He had no wish in making the woman’s life any more difficult for her, and should O’Flaherty have appeared it was Daniels intention to quietly slip away.

 

“Is it about the Captain?” she whispered.

 

She was kneeling on a hassock, her head bent as though in prayer, close enough for him to  hear her every word.

 

“Yes, it is.   Mrs O’Flaherty, I really need to know exactly what happened the other evening when he was visiting your place of employment.”

 

“I understand.   The priest said I was to go to the police but my husband -” she glanced hurriedly over her shoulder towards the door, her hand gripped the back of the pew upon which Daniel was seated.  “I can’t go to the police but I will tell you everything I know.”

 

“Is your husband very involved with the Eugenes, Mrs O’Flaherty?”

 

“He’s been with them a long time, sir.” her soft Irish accent softened the words and he had to lean forwards now to catch them, “I think he has been involved in some things he has never told me about, things that perhaps he would not want the police to find out.”

 

“What happened to the Captain?”

 

“A fine handsome man, sir.  And so pleasing kind too.”  she sighed, “Mrs Eugene came out of the dining room and looked at me, told me to go into the kitchen, but I was supposed to be clearing away the dishes so I went out of one door and through into the dining room by another door.  Mrs Eugene was talking very quietly to my husband.  I saw her give him something, just slipped it into his hand and he wasn’t even looking at her but at the door ahead as though if anyone came by it would seem she weren’t talking to him at all.  Then he walked into the other room -”

 

“You didn’t see what happened?” Daniel said anxiously and cast a look at her face, seeing how pale she was, her lips were trembling.   Once again she raised her head to look over at the door,

 

“I was in the dining door and the door was open to the room where the gentlemen were - Mr Andre was sitting in the big chair smoking a cigar, and Mr Henry was standing by the mantle, he was looking upset and nervous.   They were talking about -” she frowned, then shook her head “I don’t rightly remember, a long word about mines.  My husband came in and poured out drinks, he gave a glass to Mr Andre, Mr Henry and then he said to the Captain “Whiskey, sir?”  and he said yes, that would be good.  I saw my husband pour out the drink and something in his hand went into the glass.  Then he handed it to the Captain.”

 

There was silence for a moment.   Two nuns were taking seats close by, their faces shrouded by their wimples.  They sat down and their dark habits caused them to merge into the shadows as though they were shadows themselves.   Mrs O’Flaherty looked as though she was about to dissolve into tears, her nerves were falling apart.

 

“Can you tell me what happened next?”

 

“The poor man - his hand was hurting and he put the glass down on the table to adjust the bandage, I watched him, and was thinking to be sure he was in some pain there, then he picked up the glass and drank it.   I saw Mr Henry look at Mr Andre.  He was frightened.  It’s easy to tell with him, he’s like a little boy still, scared of shadows.  He’s scared of his brother, but even more scared of his cousin -”

 

“Who’s his cousin?”

 

“Mrs Pelman.”

 

Daniel glanced away from her, stared fixedly at a statue before clearing his throat.  Mrs Pelman and the Eugenes?   He had never thought of that connection.  Had Adam?  Was that why he had gone there or had he gone because of previous old family ties only?  

 

“What happened then?” he whispered.

 

“Captain Cartwright didn’t drink his whisky right away, but after he had finished drinking it -” she licked her lips, then placed her hands over her face, he could see her shoulders shaking, and a tear trickled between her fingers, “he tried to stand up, he put his hand to his throat, shook his  head as though trying to clear it.  Mr Henry stepped up to him and asked him if he was alright, and he said no he wasn’t and then he fell from the chair onto the floor.”

 

“Then what happened?”

 

“Mr Andre got up and they looked through all his pockets.  Then they got my husband in and together they carried him to his room.”   she wiped the tears from her face, and looked appealingly into his, “it was hard for him to come round next morning. I cared for his poor hand, that was all I could do.  I thought - I was afraid -.”

 

Daniel nodded, he wanted to reassure her, put his hand on her shoulder, anything, but there was nothing he could do for her. She wiped her face on the corner of her shawl.

 

“I don’t know nothing more honest to God, sir.  I told it to the priest - but O’Flaherty found out and beat me.   If he knew I had told you, he would do more than just beat me.”

 

“Can’t you leave him?  Go somewhere safe?”

 

“Where would I go to, sir?   And he is my husband.”

 

Daniel nodded, touched her hand gently,

 

“Thank you, Mrs O’Flaherty.   I hope you’ll be alright, I’m sorry if -” he paused, he didn’t really know what else to say but turned hurriedly from his seat, and left the church.  

 

Kate O’Flaherty stayed where she was, then after a quick glance about her rose from the pew and hurried to one of the Confessionals.

 

……………………………

 

The harbour master licked his pencil and ticked off something on the papers he held, before looking at the Officer standing at the door of his hut. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, young man.” he said in reply to the question Jotham had put to him, “I wasn’t here the day of the fire.”

 

“Then  can’t you look it up in your log?”

 

“I could -” he stared coldly at Jotham “But I won’t.  It isn’t any business of yours as to what’s put in the log.”  he settled back onto his chair and attempted to turn back to the desk except for Jotham grabbing the arm of the chair and preventing him from doing so.  “Now, just look here, young man, that won’t do you any good. If you want to know what happened that day, you’ll need to go and see Mr Matthews, the previous harbour master.”

 

“Previous harbour master?”

 

“That’s right.  He’s no longer employed by the Company, lost his privileges - got to drinking it seems and when he drunk too much he got to fancy he was seeing things, like boats pulled up on the beach.  Things like that -”

 

Jotham stepped back, narrowed his eyes and stared hard at the other man who shrugged and smiled rather insolently at him

 

“That’s right, he got drunk, talked about things he may or may not have seen, then had an accident.  Fell over something, cracked his head.   Sad really - now he has no memory and no job.”

 

……………………………..

Hoss was somewhat perplexed. Right in the middle of their lunch Mr Jamieson and William had appeared looking distressed, and upon seeing them had rushed to their table

"Mr Cartwright, something terrible has happened." Jamieson had blurted out in such a loud voice that several other diners had turned round to watch and listen. "The Ainola, she's been burned out. Nine men killed - others injured -"

"Adam ?" Ben had jumped up from his seat, knocking it back with a thud onto the floor, "Any news of my son?"

"He wasn't there -" Jamieson lowered his voice, "He was visiting friends - Mr and Mrs Eugene."

Ben relaxed, his shoulders lost their tension and he sat back onto the chair that William had picked up for him. He couldn't concentrate on eating now but got to his feet, threw his napkin down and declared that he would have to go to the Eugenes and see Adam there.

"He isn't there now, sir." William piped up.

"Isn't there? Then where is he?"

"We don't rightly know." Jamieson said, "We're trying to locate Mr O'Brien as well. He was on board the ship but got off safely. The last anyone saw of Captain Cartwright was at the pier, getting men out of the water."


So now Hoss Cartwright walked around the city, he wanted more than anything else to get to see Adam, but before he could his brother had to be located. Jamieson and William went to look on the south side of the city, and Hoss had agreed to look along the main part, calling on on the hotels and checking registers. It was tedious, boring and he was getting hot and bothered doing it. Ben on the other hand had decided to take a cab to the Eugenes house and make enquiries there.

They had decided upon a time to meet and Hoss, realising that the time was drawing close to when he was to meet up with his Pa began to walk back along the way he had come. He quite liked the bustle of the city, people coming and going, brushing past him, the chatter and the laughter. He liked it but at the same time it made him realise how much he loved the Ponderosa. He knew all its secret places, all the places where he could be alone to think, where the birds gathered and sang the most merrily, where the flowers bloomed the prettiest.

He was walking along thinking about Adam, wondering what it was like to be out there on the sea in what he always felt were rather untrusty wooden affairs with bits of sheet strung on them when he saw a sight that always made him madder than a hornet.  A woman was struggling to be free from a rather thick set man who was pulling her by the wrists down the steps from a church.

 

People stopped, paused, went on their way and ignored it.   Still she screamed, pulled to get away, while the man now grabbed at her hair and shook her like a terrier would shake a rat.   Hoss  strode towards them, and as the man, none other than O’Flaherty brought back his hand to strike her, Hoss grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him around to face him.

 

“You skunk, if there ain’t anything I hate more it’s the sight of a man hitting on a lady. Here - take a taste of your own medicine.” and Hoss swung his clenched fist which connected solidly under O’Flaherty’s jaw sending the wretched man sprawling down the last two steps into the gutter.  “And that’s jest where you belong -” Hoss declared before turning to the woman.

 

Kate had fallen upon the steps, and lay there in a posture that indicated an inability to move.   Her shawl had fallen from her, blood clotted about her head and pooled upon the cold stone stair.   Very gently Hoss leaned down to lift her head into his arms,

 

“There now, little lady, you’ll be alright now, Hoss’ll make sure no one will hurt you agin.” he said very softly, and when her eyes flickered open and she looked up at him, he smiled, “There now, you ain’t got nothing’ to worry about now.  I’ll jest take you along to someplace where you’ll be looked after real fine.”

 

She couldn’t really hear a word he was saying.   For some reason something odd had happened inside her head, her sight was blurring and her hearing was fading.  She smiled, felt the safe security of his arms about her and allowed her head to loll upon his broad shoulder as he raised her from the ground and began to carry her away from the church.

 

When O’Flaherty regained his senses the only evidence of his wife’s presence was a

Discarded shawl and a pool of blood upon the steps to the church.

 

 

 

Chapter 105

 

As he passed the harbour in the cab en route to the Eugenes, Ben looked long and sadly at the wreckage of the two ships entwined in their blackened death throes.  The sight touched him deeply, not only because one of them had been Adam’s ship, but because he had loved the sea and the sight of the clipper ships and frigates with their billowing sails had always stirred his heart.

 

He sighed deeply and wondered yet again about the depths of a man’s heart when it stooped to actions such as those that had caused the fires on those ships.  Total disregard for life.  Needless wanton destruction of property.  A heartless disregard for another man’s reputation.  It troubled Ben deeply for he was a man of strong moral inclinations, the ethos of a strong Puritan upbringing as a child had never left him, and his sense for justice was like steel running through him like a back bone.

 

He stepped from the cab, paid the driver and mounted the steps to the front door.  He paused a while before knocking to look around him and to see what changes had been made to the property. His knock seemed to echo eerily for some seconds and he was wondering if perhaps the owners were absent when the door opened and a young woman stood there smiling at him,

 

“Yes, sir?  Sorry to keep you waiting, sir, only Mr O’Flaherty ain’t here -”

 

“I see,” Ben smiled his gentle smile reserved for young ladies, children and old biddies, “So you are butler for the day then?”

 

“Oh only until he comes back.” she smiled more widely, “Can I ask who it is who is calling, please.” she asked the question in the manner of a child who had learned her text for the day and Ben stepped inside and gave his name while handing her his hat,  “Only Mr Henry is home just now, Mr Cartwright.”

 

“Then it’s Mr Henry I would like to see, if I may.”

 

Despite etiquette requiring that he should wait in the hall kicking his heels until he was told whether or not Mr Henry would be pleased (or not) to see him, Ben chose to follow the girl down the hall and to the room she led him.  Rather shyly she looked over at him and then knocked before she pushed the door open,

 

“What is it?”

 

“Mr Ben Cartwright here to see you, sir.”

 

Before Henry could say a word for he was totally struck dumb with fright at the thought of Ben appearing, Ben did just that, he appeared and Henry stared at him as though the avenging angel had flown through the door

 

“Hello, Ben.”

 

“Henry -”  Ben waited for the door to close and then approached Henry Eugene with a deep frown on his tanned face, the black eyes seemed to bore into the other man’s who cringed back into his chair, “Well now, Henry, how are you?  I see you are an Officer in the Navy, congratulations.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”  Henry cleared his throat and glanced nervously about the room as though from somewhere help would appear.  None did.  “I’m afraid Andre isn’t home just now.  He’s preparing for a visit from the President -   President Grant that is - of course.”

 

“Of course.” Ben smiled slowly and his frown deepened, he leaned back in the chair he had appropriated and regarded Henry thoughtfully.  The man was as nervous as a kitten, something serious must have happened here at one time for him to have changed so much.  “Is anything wrong, Henry?”

 

“No - nothing,” the reply trembled in the room and Henry forced a smile as though he realised what he had said was ineffectual, “I - I was just surprised to see you.  Is everyone well in Nevada ?”

 

“Yes, very well, thank you.  Although I believe you saw my son, Adam, recently?”  it was a direct to the point question, but with a man as inclined to nerves as this one Ben felt he could have been dancing around with questions for hours and never getting any where.  He could see Henry’s eyes widen, the pupils dilate, the breathing grow more rapid.

 

“Yes,” Henry nodded, obviously thinking it easier to be honest than not, “Yes, Adam paid us a visit the other evening.  But he left - very quickly - the ship being on fire and him wanting to get to his men.”

 

“I see.”  Ben nodded, “And he was alright, when he left here?”

 

“Perfectly alright.” Henry clasped his hands tightly together in an attitude of prayer, sweat gleamed on his brow, and his lips twitched.  He glanced over at Ben in an almost ‘please leave me alone’ plea which puzzled the other man while at the same time touching his heart.

 

“Henry, what’s happened to you?  Is there something I could do to  help you in any way?”

 

“No, nothing”  Henry shuddered, “I appreciate your visit, Mr Cartwright, but I can’t help you.”

 

“Do I need help then?”  Ben narrowed his dark eyes and looked into Henry’s face once again, “Henry, I repeat, what has happened to you?   For heavens sake, man, you are a shell of a man compared to the one I last met.”

 

He leaned forward, his hand on the arm of Henry’s chair while he looked compassionately at the other man.   Henry shrunk back, then bowed his head, raised a trembling hand to his brow,

 

“Mr Cartwright, please don’t look at me like that -”

 

“Like what, son?” the deep voice was gentle, it vibrated with the compassion that Ben often felt for those less strong than himself and he certainly felt compassion for this young man whom he had known since a youth. 

 

“You looked like my father then.   Reminded me of him - he was always kind.  I just always wanted so much to please him and make him proud of me.  I - I know I’m a disappointment to him, he’d probably disinherit me now.”

 

“I don’t understand what you’re meaning, speak plain, boy.”

 

“You and he were good friends, weren’t you, Mr Cartwright?”

 

“Yes, we shared rough times together before things improved for us both.   You, Andre and my boys, you had good times together, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes.  I’ve good memories of those times” Henry smiled, somehow a trickle of strength flowed into him as his mind dwelt upon those happier, rougher times.  “Pa never forgot all the help you gave him, your loyalty.   But when he died Andre took over the business.  There was the war -”

 

“Something happened during the war?” 

 

“Andre supported the Southern cause.  It’s understandable really, he’s always been besotted by our cousin Cassandra, and she’s down South, and then he married Jeannette because Cassandra married Alfred.” his brow creased, “He said that father would be proud if one of us fought for our beliefs so I joined the Militia and went to war.”

 

“You fought in the war?”

 

“Yes, at Shiloh.  It was horrible, Mr Cartwright, all that carnage.  I still dream about it”

 

“Go on -” Ben prompted, while at the back of his mind he was ever conscious of time ticking away, and still no word about Adam.

 

“I was wounded, they sent me back home here” he bowed his head, it was obviously not a hero’s return, and he had suffered ever since the ignominy of failure.  “Cassandra and Andre - well - they were involved in something to do with the war, getting money through to support the cause, buying up weapons, that kind of thing.  There was something else but I’ve never found out what it was but Alfred did.    Then the war ended.   Father had already purchased a commission for me into the navy before he died, it was a tradition in the family that one son would be a seaman, so Andre and Cassandra arranged with Alfred for me to work for him. I knew it wasn’t really because of any tradition, it was because it was useful for Alfred and Andre at the time, and because Alfred knew about him and Cassandra.   That’s why we do what we’re told now.  So when Adam came -”

 

“Go on - what happened when Adam came -”

 

“Pelman -” he paused at the sharp intake of breath Ben had uttered, “You know him?”

 

“I’ve heard of him.”  Ben said grimly.

 

“He said we were to drug Adam and make sure he stayed here, didn’t return to his ship. He said he had plans and didn’t want any interference from him.   So that’s what we did.” he looked beseechingly into Ben’s now very stern face, “He wasn’t hurt, Mr Cartwright, I mean, he was, but we didn’t do it.”

 

“He was?  What do you mean, he was?”   Ben grabbed at Henry’s arm, “Henry, what do you mean, was my son hurt?”

 

“Pelman said he’d fallen down some steps the previous day - sometime - broke some ribs and his hand, but he was alright, honestly, Mr Cartwright, he was alright while he was here.  The drug didn’t harm him, not at all” a wistful smile drifted over the weak face, and his pale eyes lit up,”You should have seen him on that horse, the way he went over that wall to reach his ship.  It made me think of  -” he stopped, shook his head, and sighed, “I know I’m a weak man, I’m frightened of Pelman and Andre, but I didn’t want Adam to be harmed.”

 

“Do you know where my son is now?”

 

“Yes, he’s in the prison under guard.  Pelman’s having him court martialed.”

 

Ben opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by a commotion from the hall, the door burst open and O’Flaherty floundered into the room with a bloodied handkerchief held to his held and the left side of his face swollen with the promise of wonderful bruising to come

 

“They’ve taken Kate.   She’ll tell them everything, everything.  Where’s Mr Andre?” he gazed around the room, his eyes rested upon Ben, a man he had met before and whose presence one would never forget, he gulped, “Ben Cartwright?”

 

“The same.” Ben rose to his feet, “Who are you?  Oh I remember, you’re the butler.  And what exactly is it that Kate is likely to tell, sir?”

 

Henry rose to his feet, put a hand on Ben’s arm,

 

“It’s alright, Mr Cartwright, you already know anything poor Kate could have told you.”

 

Ben’s lips tightened into a grim line, he looked with disgust at O’Flaherty, and with pity at Henry, then turned without a word from the room.

 

……………………….

 

Hoss clutched his hat tightly to his chest as he left the hospital building.  He could remember being there before, bad memories, best forgotten but now reawakened.  He’d been there when Margie Owens had delivered her baby and died.  Little Margie whom he had loved so much.   He wished he hadn’t gone into the wretched building now but something had to be done for that poor woman.  Kate O’Flaherty her name was, and a sweet little woman she had been too.

 

He glanced up at the sky and realised he would be late for meeting his Pa, so turned his feet in the direction of the restaurant where they were going to meet, Jamieson and William would be there too.   He heaved another sigh and then paused in the middle of the street.  Why did people have to act in the ways that they did?   Why the cruelty?   He remembered the hurt done to Margie, and now that poor little Irish lady - he shook his head, and remembered how she had held his hand so tightly and her blue eyes had looked at him with such trust - just like Margie all those years back.

 

But it hadn’t stopped the inevitable.   He sniffed, rubbed his face against his sleeve.  Kate had told him enough, before she had died, before she had closed those blue eyes, squeezed his fingers.  And he had thought of Margie Owens then and had wanted to weep, and had done.

 

 

Chapter 106

 

The cell door opened and a tall young man entered, a tall young man with ginger hair and a moustache, dressed soberly in the very latest style of suit.   He looked thoughtfully at Adam who was engaged in playing a game of chess with one of the Marines.  

 

“Captain Adam Cartwright?”

 

Adam glanced up, nodded, and returned to look at the chess board with the most intense scrutiny.   He pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows, lowered them and then picked up a piece which he moved very carefully into position.  The Marine nodded, and leaned over the board to consider his move while Adam rose to his feet,

 

“Yes, sorry about that - what can I do for you?”

 

“I was asked to deliver this to you, sir.”  Adam nodded, smiled and took the letter.  He glanced at the handwriting on the envelope and then at the other man who was about to turn  and leave,

 

“No reply required?” Adam asked in a quite whimsical manner while he tapped the envelope against his injured hand.

 

“No, sir.   Mr Smith says he will see you very soon.”

 

“Oh, good.  Many thanks -”  Adam pulled a wry face and watched the cell door close behind his visitor.  

 

He looked once again at the envelope and bit his bottom lip thoughtfully.  He had seen the writing before, on a letter written to himself at the beginning of the voyage to Alaska, and now here was another missive.   He sighed and weighed it in his hand before taking his seat, looking at the chess board and resuming the game.

 

………………………………....

 

Ben and Hoss Cartwright listened to their own foot steps as they walked down the corridor to the cells.    The Marine they were following finally stopped, unlocked a door and pushed it open.  When both men stepped forward to enter  the Marine raised a stick which was intended to prevent Hoss from going further.  Hoss snorted down his nostrils, went slightly red in the face and clenched his fist which he would have used had not Ben raised a hand and quietly told him to stay outside.

 

“Sorry, sir,” the Marine said quite politely as Hoss stepped back and took a seat, “But only one guest at a time.”

 

Hoss didn’t dignify the comment with any response.  He merely turned his head and stared at the far wall.

 

Adam turned at the sound of the key locking in the door.  He had half expected Ernest Mulholland to be there but when he saw his father he stood as though transfixed, like a man caught in a dream.

 

“Pa?”

 

A dishevelled haggard man with dark stubble on a bruised face,  but sounding like the boy who had so often been at his side through so many dangers.   Ben had to inhale deeply, take a deep draught of air into his lungs so that he could speak

 

“Hello, son.” he said very quietly, and then he smiled and the black eyes seemed awash with what must have been tears as he stepped forward “Adam,, my boy.”

 

Adam could not find his voice,  he struggled to clear his throat, then gripped his father’s arms as tightly as he could before pulling him into a close embrace. 

 

“Pa, I didn’t think you’d be here this soon.”  and his voice had some laughter in it, although there was some other emotion as he stepped back to look at the other man who was now regarding his son with a close scrutiny.

 

“We arrived this morning.   Hoss is with me.”

 

“Sit down, Pa.” Adam pulled the chair towards him, smiled, the dark eyes scanned the face before him with the same scrutiny that he had himself just undergone,  he smiled again, “Did you get my letters?”

 

“Yes, we got them all.”

 

“The documents -?”

 

“Delivered safely.”  Ben smiled at the surprised look on his sons face, “Yes, sometimes fact is stranger than fiction, son.   The President came to visit us en route to San Francisco.  Your timing could not have been better.”

 

“Do you know what the documents are all about?”

 

“No, not at all.  The President handed them over to his secretary to translate, but it was not for me or anyone else to ask about their content.  Adam -” he stopped speaking and put his hand upon his sons arm,  while his eyes looked down upon the bandaged hand  “It’s been a hard time, hasn’t it?”

 

Adam lowered his eyes,  turned his head slightly away from his father before nodding, again there was the familiar pout, the thinning of the nostrils and the contracted brows.

 

“Yes, it has been, Pa.  I -” he stopped speaking, too full of emotion at that moment to continue, although he wished to but there was so much to say, and for some reason he could not find the words he needed.  “I’m glad you’re here, Pa.   The worse thing of all was never knowing whom I could trust anymore.”

 

“You trusted your own instincts though, son.  They didn’t fail you, did they?” Ben smiled slowly, his eyes taking in the thin countenance, the shabby clothing,  the outward signs of a man almost beaten by the system in which he now found himself.

 

“No,  not quite.”  Adam allowed a brief smile to touch his lips before he looked at his father again,  “Jamieson - was he alright?”

 

“He is, and William as well.  Both quite upset about the ship being burned out.  What happened ?”

 

“One of Pelman’s ruses.    An Officer has to order a court martial if a ship is lost, no matter the reason, it’s a procedure just to evaluate costs etc.   it gave him the opportunity to add charges of his own.”

 

“Did you know that he is connected by marriage to the Eugene family?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“ I saw Henry Eugene earlier, Adam.  He admitted that they had put a drug into your drink the evening you were there.   You weren’t meant to leave the house until the ships were totally ablaze.  Does the name O’Flaherty mean anything to you?”

 

“Yes,  a man and his wife - a butler and servant.”

 

“The woman died a short while ago.   O’Flaherty was responsible for her death.  Hoss  has been to the Marshall  and they are going to make an investigation into it.    I should think that there’s wholesale panic in the Eugene household at present.”  he smiled, placed his hand upon his son’s arm once again, felt helpless and unable to say all that he wanted to say.  One can, at times, be quite crippled by emotion. “Adam,  what do you intend to do? ”

 

“Well, Mulholland and I have put forward a counter-claim against Pelman.  But other than that there’s not much I can do, Pa.  I have to obey orders -” he picked up the envelope and held it between his fingers,  “I have been ordered to attend the court martial as required.   To face the charges and to put forward my own -”  he looked at his father and smiled slowly, “Perhaps the President likes playing chess … we’re the pieces he picks up and moves about at his whim.”

 

“It may seem so at present, but be patient, son,  there must be a reason behind that order.” Ben bit his bottom lip, a trifle perplexed, lost for words.  “I’ll have to make sure you are smartened  up, Adam.” he forced a smile, “Haven’t you a dress uniform?”

 

“Not now, it got burned  up in the fire - it was in my cabin.”

 

“Then I’ll see that you are properly kitted out for the hearing.”

 

Adam said nothing.  He merely looked down at the ground, and for some while the second ticked by as the two men sat together, not needing to speak, only content that each was there for  the other.  Finally Adam raised his head and asked about Joe,  and Hoss.  Ben filled in a few minutes retailing the story about Joe’s accident, and then mentioned that Hoss was outside, hoping to see his brother.

 

Adam smiled, unconsciously rubbed his injured hand slowly with his good one as he watched his father get to his feet,

 

“Hoss would want to see you, Adam.  I’ll be back tomorrow.” he hovered by the table for a second to look down at his son’s face, and then smiled, “We’re here now, it’ll be alright.”

 

“Yes,” Adam nodded,  again a brief smile touched his lips, “Yes, Pa, I’m sure you’re right.”

 

Hoss bounded into the room and without even looking at Adam he was across the room in a few strides and had his arms around his brother, lifted him off his feet while he exclaimed “Dang it, Adam, what tom fool thing have you got yourself tangled up in now!”

 

………………………………...............

 

Jotham Morton and Daniel O’Brien pushed the door of the restaurant open and looked around for somewhere to sit.  As they paused at the doorway a man and youth entered behind them, paused and stepped towards them

 

“Lieutenant O’Brien, sir?”

 

“Jamieson?”  Daniel’s eyes widened in amazement, “You here?”

 

“Indeed yes, and William also as you see.”

 

Hands  were shaken, introductions made and a table quickly sought and found.  Daniel leaned forward

 

“When did you arrive here?”

 

“This morning, sir, with Ben and Hoss Cartwright.”

 

Daniel and Jotham exchanged looks, nodded, and then returned their attention to Jamieson and William,

 

“We’ve found a few things out that are important in this case, Jamieson.  Do you know where the Cartwrights are right now?”

 

“Yes, sir, they’ve gone to visit the Captain.” Jamieson replied, “Mr Cartwright couldn’t do any more than he has done without going to see his son.   But he has found out enough to put the Eugenes behind bars.”

 

“I was able to speak to a Mrs Kate O’Flaherty -” Daniel paused at the look on Jamiesons face, “What’s the matter?”

 

“She died.  Not long ago.  Hoss Cartwright took her to the hospital.  Her husband will be charged with her murder.”

 

Daniel sat upright,  he shook his head sadly, “Are you sure?  In that case I’m just as much to blame.   Was it near the church?”

 

“Yes, sir.   On the very steps -”

 

“That’s where I met her and she told me about the drug her husband put into the drink.  He must have followed her there.”  his lips twisted into an angry grimace, “I hope they hang him.”

 

“Yes, sir, they will, you can be sure of that,” Jamieson said with a very confident nod of the head.

 

……………………………….....

 

A man coughed politely to attract the secretary’s attention.  Jonas Thaler slid some papers into his case and then followed the direction of the cough until he had reached the side of the other man,

 

“What are you doing here?” he hissed and grabbed at the man’s arm, pulled him over to the shadows.

 

“I’ve just come from the Marshall’s office, they’re going to the Eugene’s -”

 

“What?   Hush, not so loud, the walls have ears hereabouts,”  he pressed closer into the shadows, “What’s happened?  Has that fool Henry talked?”

 

“I don’t know about that, Mr Thaler.”

 

“Don’t use my name -” Jonas whispered.

 

“Sorry, sir.  I don’t know about Mr Eugene.   O’Flaherty killed his wife, the fool struck her and someone came along and took her to the hospital.  The Marshall’s on his way to take him in.”

 

“He’ll talk.” Thaler said grimly.

 

“That’s what we thought.  I’ve some men keeping watch at the Eugene’s, and a man keeping an ear open at the Law office.   He’s to contact you if anything happens you need to know.”

 

“You need to get O’Flaherty out of that house.  He’ll sing like a canary -”

 

“I’ve already got him, Mr - I mean - sir.  He’s in the wagon down below.”

 

“Alive?”

 

“At the moment.”

 

“Good.   Then you know what to do -”  Thaler pulled out some money and thrust it into the other man’s hand.

 

Like a shadow he slipped away down the corridor while Thaler stood and watched with a thoughtful expression on his face.   The network that he and Pelman had set up in place was an effective one.   It had always worked efficiently like a well oiled machine.   He remembered the task he had been involved in and returned to the office, sifting through papers and sliding some into his briefcase.   He was half way through clearing the desk when he had a sudden thought - Henry Eugene was another weak link in the chain.   Something would have to be done about him.

 

 

Chapter 107

 

In the darkening shadows of evening there were few people walking about near the harbour.  A few stragglers only wending their way to the near by taverns, a number of hard bitten sea faring drinkers preparing to elbow their way to the counters for their evening drinks. 

 

No one took any notice of the wagon that pulled up near the pier.    If any one saw the man ‘helping’ a rather heavily built man from the wagonseat, they were not too bothered about it.  Just someone giving a helping hand to  another who had imbided too much too early in the day.

 

O’Flaherty had spent a terrifying hour in the wagon, conscious, bound tightly, and gagged.    When the gag was removed he was offered a drink, of course, he couldn’t very well refuse with a gun held to his head.   When the other man assured him all his troubles would soon be over he imagined himself being shang’hei’d and the very worse that could happen would be waking up in the hold of some ship.

 

He was wrong.

 

A splash.   Some ripples.  After a while he sank.  

 

If anyone had noticed, no one was interested enough to go to his aid.   The man on the wagonseat moved the horses on at a slow plodding pace.   On the horizon the two ships remained locked in their cremated embrace, a fitting epitaph to a man who was big only in his own eyes.

 

………………………..

 

The chess board was put away with the chess pieces and the Marine rose to his feet, and bade the Captain good night.  Adam watched him go, saw the door swing shut and heard the grating sound of the key being turned.   He sighed, a long sigh, as he stood up, removed his jacket and boots before stretching out upon the bed.   The chimes of the clock from somewhere outside sounded 9 p.m.   

 

He felt as though his nerves were stretched to breaking point, the emotion of seeing his father and brother had left him with a strange feeling of euphoria that swiftly turned to despair.   Everything was swinging like a pendulum and here he was, stuck in the cell with a letter from the President of the United States telling him to stay there.  He re-read the letter in his mind

 

“Captain Cartwright

 

Our most sincere gratitude and appreciation for  all you have done on this assignment.  We are aware of the losses you have incurred, and the hardships you have endured.   We would ask you to continue now as though unaware of anything having changed, for we assure you that things are changing of which you will be aware later.  Attend the Court Martial according to procedure.  Put forward the counter claim.  Signed Ulysses Simpson Grant.”

 

Again he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air and slowly releasing it again.  He closed his eyes and remembered a phrase of a book he had recently read by Charles Dickens

 

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known …”

 

…………………………….

 

How bright the moon that night as it smiled down upon Sun Mountain, and the ponderosa pines lay deep within their own shadows.   Joe Cartwright latched the door and then limped to the big red leather chair into which he settled to pick up the first envelope that stood neatly upon the pile he had put on the table for reading.  

 

He was a gregarious man.   This constant confinement tore at his nerves, time ticked away but slowly, ledgers were ink stained and blobbed gloriously for he had no bent towards adding figures.   Now another  day had come to an end and he intended to  pass the last hour of it by reading one of his brother’s letters.

 

He slipped the letter from the envelope and smoothed the pages over his lap.  He smiled at the sight of the pen and ink sketch of a ship sailing on the sea.

 

“Hi Pa, Hoss and Joe

 

I guess by now you are enjoying the best part of springtime.   Probably a lot of calves that require branding for the spring round up.  I hope that it will be a good one,  (huh, Joe grunted, yeah, and look at me now?)

 

Sitting here I try to imagine what you are all doing now.  It is only 7 o’clock in the evening but very dark and outside the snow is falling heavy, blotting out the blackness beyond the window.

 

Hard to believe how warm you must all be at this time, I have never felt so cold.  There is a small stove in the cabin that Abbott lights for me,  it keeps the cabin just above freezing.   

 

I wish I could describe how beautiful the ship looks on  nights like this - the snow falls down and crystallizes on the sails and masts, upon the whole of the ship - it looks like a model covered in sugar, a ghost ship sailing upon black inky waters where the ice floes gather around her and upon them all a full moon is shining.   I suppose the things that are beautiful here are to compensate for the cold, the bleakness, the isolation.

 

Today we saw a pod of whales.  Huge monsters they are and we all rushed to the side of the ship to watch them go by.   Although I admire greatly the courage of the men who hunt these wonderful creatures it is also sad to know they suffer and die so savagely.

 

I hope all is well with you.  Please give Barbara my warmest affection.  God bless you.

Your son/brother   Adam”

 

Joe slipped the letter back into the envelope and sighed.   There had been a well executed pen and ink drawing of some whales in the sea, and he thought of it as he rose from the chair and made his way to the stairs.  Then he thought of Barbara and frowned.   How was Adam going to react to the news about Barbara’s forthcoming marriage to Andrew Pearson.?   Peggy was convinced he would be broken hearted and as a result had been miserable company.

 

Joe sighed and made his way slowly up the stairs.    Perhaps one day he would see whales and sail on a sugar coated ship …  then he shook his head, who was he kidding, he couldn’t even get into a saddle and ride into town.

 

Chapter 108

 

The door closed very firmly behind the Marshall.   In the drawing room  Andre and Henry Eugene with Jeannette sat in total silence, as though they were watching a house of cards that they had carefully built slowly slipping down,, card by card, to the floor.

 

“Do you think he will be back?” Jeannette whispered, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her lips twitched as though suddenly afflicted with a tic that was out of her control.

 

“No, I doubt it.” Andre said, and he rose to his feet and poured out whiskey for himself and Henry, a sherry for her.

 

“He came to see O’Flaherty.” Henry said indulgently, and took the glass from Andre, “The fool must have realised he couldn’t get away with murdering his wife.  There were obviously enough witnesses to the event from what the Marshall said.”

 

“Yes, I know, but - but where is O’Flaherty?” Jeannette asked and looked at the two men who looked at one another before one shook his head and the other shrugged.

 

A knock sounded loudly, and they could hear the door open,  voices in the hallway.  Jeannette rose to her feet, her hands shaking,

 

“I told you, he’s come back -” she whispered and turned her head to see who was going to enter.

 

Alfred Pelman stepped into the room.    His face looked unusually grim as he walked to the tantalus and poured himself some whiskey before he turned to Andre,

 

“I saw the Marshall leaving.“

 

“He came to see O’Flaherty.  I suppose you heard what the wretched man had done?”  Andre replied and he looked at his friend steadily as though anticipating his next comment.

 

“You needn’t worry about O’Flaherty, that’s one detail that’s been removed.” he said harshly, and downed his drink in a long draught before he turned to refill the glass.

 

Henry glanced down at his own glass,  a man dismissed as a mere detail, it seemed cruel.  He never liked O’Flaherty but guessing at the kind of removal he had had, it seemed very harsh to dismiss him in that manner.  It made him wonder how many others had been, would be, removed just as heartlessly.

 

He looked up in time to see Andre take an envelope from Pelman, a look pass between them, before he withdrew the letter.   It was an official letter, coming from a firm of lawyers.   

 

“Read it,” Pelman said thickly.

 

Andre did so, not out aloud, he didn’t trust his wife or brother enough to read documents out aloud.  He merely read it through himself while they watched him like two sheep waiting for the command to bleat.    After he had read it through he re-read some portions,  snorted loudly and contemptuously, and handed it back to Pelman.

 

“Rubbish” he said,  “How can he even contemplate doing such a ridiculous thing.  A man clutching at straws -  ignore it.”

 

“How can I?” Pelman replied, “The panel of Officers will all have received a copy of that letter.” he turned to Henry and Jeannette, “Captain Cartwright has decided to put forward a counter claim against me.”

 

“For what?” Jeannette asked, her eyes round in her ashen face, she rose to her feet, a trifle unsteadily, “I don’t understand what’s happening.   Andre, what does this all mean?”

 

“Nothing.  It’s rubbish.” Andre replied and snorted again.

 

“I don’t think it is -” Henry said quietly, “Not if the panel will have been sent copies too.   They’ll want to know what proof there is to the claims -”

 

“There is no proof -” Pelman shrugged, “No one knows about the list of names in my possession -”

 

“What names?” Jeannette whispered, and looked as though she were about to faint.

 

“Nothing to do with you, my dear, and the Eugene name isn’t on the list so it doesn’t matter.   But if others knew of its existence it would substantiate the charge of treason.”

 

“Is that what we’ve been doing then?  Committing treason?” Henry asked in his usual befuddled manner.

 

“I said - don’t worry about it.   It doesn’t involve you.”

 

“Then why mention it.” Jeannette cried, her voice rising slightly in hysteria, her house of cards were falling at a much faster pace than she realised.

 

“I’m mentioning it because it is one of the claims Cartwright is putting forward against me.   There’s also kidnapping,  murder -”

 

There was a thud as Jeannette finally landed on the floor in a heap of purple and pink satin and taffeta.   Henry rushed to her assistance while Andre rang the bell for the maid.

 

“Let’s go into the study -” he suggested to Pelman who shook his hand from his arm and tucked the letter back into his pocket, 

 

“I just came to show you the letter, to let you know that there could be a little problem with regard to the court martial.    Don’t worry, I have men around to do my work,  they won’t talk.  O’Flaherty - pah, gone.   The harbour master and his report - gone.   They can scratch around for whatever evidence they want but they will only find blind alleys.   It’s just a nuisance especially as the President will be arriving soon.”

 

“How soon?”

 

“Any day.”

 

Andre frowned, shook his head with a slightly puzzled air,

 

“Doesn’t it seem strange to you that there has been no mention of this visit in the press?   Usually a Presidential visit creates something of a stir, but there’s not even been a hint of it.”

 

“Grant has always been a -” Pelman grinned with ill concealed irony “a bit of a maverick.”

 

Jeannette recovered herself as the door closed upon their visitor.   Andre barely glanced at her before going to his study, it was Henry who knelt at her side and gently chaffed her hands to put warmth into them.

 

…………………………..

 

Barbara  lit the candles in her bedroom and slowly  unbuttoned her jacket, which she folded away.   Then she slipped out of her skirt and was about to fold it away with the jacket when there was a tapping on the door and to her brisk ’Enter’ Peggy stepped into the room.

 

“Not in bed yet, Peggy?” she smiled lightly,  and began to untie the ribbons of her first petticoat.

 

“No, Barbara, I just wanted to see you before I went to bed.”

 

“That’s sweet, dear, but I’m very tired and if you want to talk about anything, perhaps you could do so tomorrow.”

 

“I suppose you’ve been to see Andrew Pearson again?”

 

“Yes,” Barbara smiled and then let a little sigh of contentment slip through her lips, “I have.  We had a lovely quiet evening together, after Lilith went to bed of course.  Oh she’s so excited about being a bridesmaid, Peggy.  She’s a dear little girl.”  she paused, her eyes were dreamy, in her mind she was back there on the verandah sitting on the chairs close to one another, holding hands, making plans.  She could see how the moonlight gilded his face, and shone upon his hair.  “It was a lovely evening, Peggy.  Did you have a pleasant time at the Ponderosa?”

 

“No, not really. Joe’s worried about everything -”

 

“Worried?”  Barbara blinked, her  little memory disappeared like a soap bubble when it bursts, she nodded, “Of course, Ben and Hoss have gone to San Francisco.  I can hardly believe that the President really did go to the Ponderosa.   There’s been not a whisper of it in town.”

 

“It’s supposed to be a secret.” Peggy said and knew she sounded like a silly little school girl as she said it.    “Barbara, Adam could be in a lot of danger - don’t you even care?”

 

“Of course I do.  I care very much.  Don’t think because I have decided to marry Andrew that I have stopped caring about Adam, I haven’t.  I just don’t love him in the way a wife would or should.   I love Andrew that way -”  she tossed her petticoat into a corner and began to ungird the second one.  “Peggy, we’ve had this discussion so often.  I’m tired.  Please don’t mention it again.”

 

Peggy said nothing, she gave Barbara a long  cold look before  turning and leaving the room, closing the door very firmly behind her.

 

…………………………..

 

Henry Eugene  dipped his pen into the inkwell, and sat for some minutes with his pen hovering over the paper.   He wrote down the date, the place and then he began to write the content of his letter which was addressed

 

“Dear Mr Cartwright -”

 

He stopped for a moment to look out of the window into the dark shadows that covered the grounds.   He could see his own reflection gazing back at him from the glass.   What was it he was going to write?   He wasn’t sure.    He looked at the paper and then he looked around the room.   It was his own study, and years ago it had been his fathers study.   He could remember a tall rancher standing there, his back to the fire, talking to his father while he played a game of chess with the rancher’s eldest son.  

 

There had always been laughter in the house in those days.  Mother had been alive, of course, and she was such a warm, loving woman.   Henry turned away from looking at the fireplace, it brought back too many happy memories.   He had to concentrate on what he was going to write now.  

 

How white the paper.   So blank.   Three little words on it and then nothing at all.   How many letters started off like that?  Letters that began so plainly that later spoke words of love from which marriages sprung, letters that spoke of hate from which wars began.   

 

A faint tapping on the door,  he called ’come in’ and slid some paper over his letter, put down the pen and turned to face Jeannette.

 

“What’s wrong, Jeannie?”

 

“I’m frightened, Harry.” she whispered and closed the door behind her, “I don’t want to stay here any longer.  I want to go home to my family in Richmond.”

 

He looked at her thoughtfully.   Through all the years of her marriage she had never come to him, never to speak nor to console.  Only that slanting narrow eyed look of contempt at the man who had returned from the war with, apparently, no more sense in his head than he had been born with.  

 

“There’s not much I can do about it, Jeannie, you must go to your husband and talk to him about it.”

 

“Do you think he would listen?  Or care?”   she responded, “He doesn’t care about me, Harry.”

 

“Then, in that case, why not pack some things and go on a vacation to your parents.  I’m sure they’ll be more than pleased to see you.” he was impatient, he had words buzzing about his head now that he needed to write down.   He didn’t want her in his room,  robbing him of time and the words - he may lose them before they were committed to paper.

 

“I shall do.” she said suddenly, and turned to leave the room, her hand on the door she turned, “Thank you, Harry.”

 

“What for?” he asked, puzzled.

 

“For being kind to me.  You’ve always been kind to me.” she whispered.

 

The door closed firmly behind her and he heard her footsteps receding down the hall.  ’I wonder if she’ll have the courage to go.’ he thought as he retrieved his paper and picked up his pen,

 

“Dear Mr Cartwright

 

Thank you for visiting me today.  For some years now it has been as though my mind has been trapped by a fog through which I could never see  clearly.   But events have taken place today that seem to have been like a beacon of light showing me a way through that fog.   I hope you have the patience to bear with me as I write to you some of the things that have been of great concern to me.”

 

He paused, frowned - well,  that was a good start.  In the hallway the clock chimed the hour, it was 11 p.m.

 

Chapter 109

 

Andre and Henry Eugene sat at the large table eating their breakfast in a silence that seemed to throb with tension.   Every so often, as he cut into his devilled kidneys and ham, Andre would cast an anxious glance at the empty seat at which his wife usually sat.  Then he would look at Henry who seemed totally unconcerned about anything .   For some reason that  he couldn’t fathom out Andre sensed a change in his brother.    Nothing tangible.  Nothing remarkable.  Just a something in the way he sat that reminded him, that particular morning, of their father.

 

“Confound the woman, where is she this morning?” Andre threw down his napkin and thumped his fist on the table, making the cutlery jump. 

 

“I don’t know.  She’s your wife.” Henry replied and shrugged.

 

Andre was rather confused by the reply.  Coming from Henry, hapless Harry himself, the response was - well - considerably courageous.  Andre blinked,

 

“If this has anything to do with you -” he said in an unpleasant tone of voice which normally would have had Henry apologising and grovelling, such was the pathetic state of the man.

 

“Me?” Henry gave a sharp little bark of a laugh, “Me?  Since when did anyone take any notice of me or anything I said?”  he drank his coffee, set the cup down upon the saucer and stood up, “Excuse me, I have things to do at the office.”

 

“What about my wife?” Andre demanded, standing up and puffing out his chest as though demanding the attention be returned to himself and his own plight, but Henry just shrugged, and without looking at his brother left the room.

 

He stood there for a moment or two, then realising that he was looking rather foolish, and that the remainder of his breakfast was getting cold, he sat down again.    Something was wrong with Henry, he thought, as he sipped his coffee, something had happened about which he, Andre, was not aware, and Henry had - well - changed.

 

He was considering what could have happened when the door opened and Newell, once first footman now suddenly elevated to butler status, was entering the room with a small envelope in his hand. 

 

“Excuse me, sir, Mrs Eugene asked me to give you this.”

 

Andre blinked.  Letters from his own wife delivered at the table - the breakfast table no less?  He took it and ripped it open, then went a shade of grey,

 

“When did she give you this?”

 

“Just now, sir.”

 

“She’s still in the house?”

 

“I think so, sir.”

 

“Then get hold of her and bring her in here.”

 

Newell looked at his employer thoughtfully, then shook his head,

 

“I don’t think so, sir.”  he shrugged, “She looked very determined to leave the house.”

 

“Leave the house?”  Andre was on his feet and around the table with the swiftness of a greyhound, and while Newell looked on in bemusement the man practically ran down the hallway to the front door.

 

Jeannette, using what little initiative was left her after six years of marriage to Andre, had chosen to leave the house by the back door.   The carriage was loaded up, the horses harnessed and she about to close the door when Andre came rushing out of the house,

 

“What do you think you’re doing?  Where are you going?” he demanded as he made a grab for the door handle.

 

“I’m going to spend some time with my parents, Andre.” she replied holding on very firmly to the door handle from inside the carriage.    She glanced hastily over at her maid who hurried to lend her strength to that of her mistress by also seizing hold of the handle to the door.

 

“I forbid it.”

 

“I’m sorry, Andre.” Jeannette shook her head, “I can’t stay here any longer.”

 

“But - the President’s coming - you’ll miss his visit, sweetness.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Andre.  If the President were coming we would all know of it by now.  It’s just another one of Pelman’s lies to keep you dancing attendance on him and that stupid wife of his - and even if the President were coming to San Francisco, do you really think he would be interested in meeting a silly little man like you.”

 

Andre released his hold on the door, and stepped back.   For an instant Jeannette felt a pang of pity for her husband as he stood there looking suddenly frightened and forlorn, like a big schoolboy.  But it was for only an instant.  Then she called out to the driver and the big carriage began to roll away from the house leaving Andre standing  in the middle of the drive staring at it until it finally turned out of the gates and into the main thoroughfare.

 

……………………….

 

Jonas Thaler scanned the letter that Pelman had handed him and shook his head thoughtfully several times,

 

“He won’t be able to get away with it,” Pelman hissed, “I refuse to be intimidated by these threats.”

 

“I don’t think you can dismiss these so easily as just threats, Mr Pelman.   These charges are significant and -”

 

“Are you lecturing me on my business, Thaler?”

 

“Just pointing out that you can’t dismiss them just as threats.” Jonas frowned and then handed Pelman a letter, “This was hand delivered this morning from Captain Jenkins.   You may recall his name figures on the list you obtained, and you had him down to sit on the panel.”

 

Pelman gave Thaler a dark glare, their eyes met in a stare of equal frigidity but he took the letter and ripped it open, read the contents and then looked up at his secretary

 

“Did you read this?”

 

“It was marked Private and Confidential.” Thaler replied in the cold efficient tones he always used with his superior.

 

“That hasn’t stopped you in the past,” Pelman growled and he tossed the letter on the desk, “He’s written to say he can’t sit on the Panel, his ship is leaving for Amsterdam on some business that is too urgent to be delayed.”

 

“Ah!”

 

“What do you mean Ah!”

 

“Well, Captain Jenkins never had what one may call stamina.”

 

Pelman frowned, and nodded,

 

“They’ve all been given copies of that letter.  I wouldn’t be surprised if some others decline -”

 

“Those whose names may be found on a certain list, I should imagine.” Thaler muttered and cast an eye over at Pelman whose back went rigid as the implication hit home.

 

“I won’t cancel the court martial just because of that - so long as there’s a quorum it will still be adequate.”  he turned to look at Thaler, “Get me a list of the officers available at the moment.”

 

Thaler nodded and promptly disappeared, closing the door quietly behind him as he did so.

 

As he closed one door the other door opened and Cassandra Pelman entered the room,  walked to the desk and placed the daily news tabloid down upon the desk.

 

“Look.” she said and stabbed at the headline with her forefinger.

 

Pelman did so, then he raised his eyes with a baffled look on his face,

 

“He’s already here?  And I didn’t know?” 

 

“’President Grant arrives in San Francisco - ‘” she read the headline and then stared venomously over the top of the page at her husband, “You must have known.   You pay those cretans enough to find out this sort of thing, don’t you?”

 

“Yes - but no one said anything, the President must have arrived -”

 

“Yesterday.  It says he arrived early yesterday morning.”

 

“And no word from him.   But I thought -”  Pelman sat down, blinked rather rapidly, and then looked at his wife, “It doesn’t mean a thing.  The President has a mind of his own, that’s all.”

 

Cassandra frowned, considered what her husband had said and then shrugged,

 

“Perhaps you’re right.  After all, it was all meant to be a private visit.”

 

She put the papers down slowly upon the desk and without a word left the office.  Pelman heard the click of the door close behind her, and then he picked up the paper to read the report for himself.  When he had finished reading it he felt more confused and puzzled than ever.  

 

“The President is already in the city.” he informed his secretary and Jonas nodded,

 

“So I heard, sir.”

 

“You didn’t tell me?”

 

“I was only informed yesterday evening.” Jonas replied with a hint of hurt feeling in his words,  “He came incognito and appeared to want to keep it that way.   Obviously he’s changed his mind since then.”

 

“Obviously!” Pelman growled, and threw the paper onto the floor.  

 

Jonas said nothing,  he turned his back onto Pelman and continued with the tasks he had for the day.  Pelman, staring at the letter in his hands, was beginning to feel the first faint stirrings of  panic but was too proud to admit it in front of the other man, instead he rose from his desk and left the room in search of his wife.

……………………………

 

It was Candy Canady who opened the door to the light tapping upon it.  He had been working on some plans for re-routing fencing on the south pasture when there came the sound of a buggy in the drive.   Now he opened the door to find Barbara Scott standing on the threshold looking decidedly uncomfortable.   She gave him a pleasant smile and asked if it would be alright for her to come in to see Joe.

 

Candy stepped to one side to admit her and said that he would go and check on the horses before closing the door again.   She walked into the room and then stood by the settee with her eyes on Joe who had stood up politely at her entrance.

 

“Hello, Joe, it’s good to see you looking so well.   I hear that your progress has been much faster than Doctor Martin thought it would be.”

 

“I heard the same thing,” he quipped with a rather tight smile, “Please sit down, Barbara.  It’s good to see you again.”

 

“Thank you.”  she sat down on the settee and looked around the room,  then smiled at Joe.  How strange it was not to feel part of it all now.  The easy going relationship she had had with this young man was now uneasy, prickly and uncomfortable.  She knew why, and the knowledge didn’t make her feel any better.   “Joe, I came to discuss something with you.”

 

“Oh, not my health then?”  he raised an eyebrow, slightly mockingly.

 

“No, I mean, yes and no.”

 

“Oh, couldn’t be my brother’s health by any chance, could it?” 

 

“Is Hoss ill?  I thought he had gone to San Francisco with your father.”

 

“I wasn’t referring to Hoss. I meant my other brother - the one you seem to have forgotten.”

 

Barbara sat very still. The words did sting, but she was not prepared to wilt nor show any indication that they had done so.  She had, after all, anticipated it and had chosen to come when only Joe was home purposely so that only one Cartwright could pour out their collective scorn and pain upon her.   She kept her eyes fixed on his face and they did not waver for an instant so that it was Joe who lowered his eyes and stared down at the drawings upon the table.

 

“I have not forgotten Adam.” she replied slowly, “I would like to mention the fact that when he left here he sent me a letter, via yourselves, in which he said that if I met anyone else whom I could love, that I was not bound to any promise to him, but could follow my heart.  I had no other letter from him.  No word at all apart from the one that I received a few days ago in which he tells me quite plainly that I was free from any obligations to him.  It seems, Joe, that it would do well if you could show towards me the same generosity of heart as your absent brother has done.”

 

Joe blushed a little.  He chewed on his bottom lip and his nostrils flared and he looked up at her with hazel eyes sparking green,

 

“He may have written those things but -”

 

“But?”  she raised her chin, “Adam is not a man who says these things casually, as though he could play or trifle with other peoples feelings as you obviously think I am doing now.    He would have thought all this out very carefully and for some reason decided that he and I were no longer suited.   That perhaps rather than I wait for him to return to discover that fact, I should be free to marry another - should there be another available, of course.”

 

“Of course,” Joe said rather tartly.

 

“Joseph, look at me.” she rose to her feet very sedately, “I’m not a young girl like Peggy.  I’ve spent my life caring for others, doing what others have bidden me - caring for my Uncle after his disgrace.   What if Adam had not returned?  What if his voyage had lasted years - my life is ticking away, Joe.”

 

“So is his -” Joe replied quietly, “and ours.”

 

“I’m a woman, Joe.  I have only a limited time in which to conceive and bear children.  Time is running out for me.   Try and understand.  I have the chance now to marry a very kind gentle man with whom I can have children, and live a quiet life removed from the public eye.  With Adam - whom I love very much - I could never live that same quiet life.  I can’t put it into words although I rehearsed it over and over -”  she bowed her head with her brows knitted together in concentration, before she raised her head again, “Sometimes one meets a person who, no matter how much one loves, is just too big a person, too - too -” she paused again “What I mean is that I could never live a quiet life in a back water with Adam.   He’s too big a person, too strong a character, for all his vulnerabilities he would never be just mine to love and care for, because he would be wanting to save the world, do things -  things that I could never match or attain to as his wife.”

 

Joe sighed, passed his tongue over his lips,

“You think Andrew Pearson to be the right man for you?”

 

“Yes.  I love him, Joe, and he loves me.  We’re going to married very soon.”

 

Joe nodded,  he sat down  once she had done so, and looked at the pile of letters Adam had sent them.   There had been none enclosed for Barbara.   His eyes scanned her face, it was peaceful, content.  She had said what she had come to say, and that, for her, meant the matter was closed.   She also knew from the way he looked at her that he had understood what she had said, perhaps had come to accept it.  

 

“Adam wrote letters to us.   I don’t know why he didn’t write any to you.”

 

“I should imagine that he did so, until he realised that all the things he had said in the previous letters were negated by his final one. “  she smiled, “I understand his ways very well, Joe.”

 

“Would you like some coffee, Barbara?  Hop Sing has made some - or perhaps some lemonade?”

 

“Thank you, lemonade, please.”

 

He nodded, rose up from his chair and walked in his still halting fashion to the kitchen.  While he was gone she leaned forward and took the letter from the top of the pile, opened it and began to read :

 

“Dear Pa, Hoss and Joe

 

I apologise for not writing for a while.  A lapse of time due to illness.  I shall not bother you with the details.   A lot has happened since my last letter to you, so many things - I shall write more detailed information in my next letter.   I am very tired just now, excuse my writing.  I just wanted to pen down some words in order to feel closer to you all … my love to you all and Barbara.”

 

The writing was a scrawl, thin and indicative of a man with limited strength.  The signature was a scratched A only …

 

She slipped it back into the envelope as the sound of glasses chinking together were heard.  By the time Joe had set the jug of lemonade and the glasses upon the table she was sitting as she had been when he had left her.  No one would have known she had moved.   If Joe wondered why her hands trembled when she took the glass from him he didn’t now have the courage to ask for the reason why.

 

Chapter 110

 

The two Marines were engrossed in conversation with Jotham Morton  when Ben and Hoss arrived that morning.   Hands were shaken and the Marine nodded, smiled and unlocked the door while explaining that Captain Cartwright had a visitor but they were welcome to enter.

 

This was somewhat different to their previous visit and both men looked at one another as though suspecting some devious imp at play, but the door was opened nonetheless and they entered to find Adam in conversation with Daniel O’Brien.

 

“Hi Pa,” Adam’s delight in seeing them both was tinged also with relief, he rose to his feet and approached them, no hugs this time - he’d suffered some pain after Hoss’ exuberant entrance the previous day - but firm handshakes, and twinkling eyes to confirm that having seen them his world was now back in some order.

 

“Your  watch dogs seem less vigilant today,” Ben observed as he set down the uniform for Adam’s court appearance later in the day.

 

“Well, I had noticed -” Adam replied with a slight frown and he rubbed the side of his nose thoughtfully.

 

“I was just telling Adam that so far two members of the panel have tendered their resignations.  Jenkins has sailed off to Amsterdam, and Lawrence has gone sick.”  Daniel grinned, “Both men are firm allies of Pelman’s.”

 

“And their names were on the list.” Adam grinned, and placed his injured hand upon his breast before sitting down and toying with a chess piece for a moment, “Jenkins always was a bully and  a coward, I remember him well from when we first sailed on the Ainola.”

 

“Shucks, Adam, your poor ship sure looks a mess.” Hoss sighed regretfully.

 

“Well, I had better be leaving.  I shall see you later, Adam.”

 

The two friends shook hands, he turned to shake Ben and Hoss by the hand and left the cell.  The door clanged shut behind him.

 

“Is your hand hurting much?” Ben asked soliticiously and carefully began to unbind the bandages, “How did this happen, Adam?”  he asked as the swollen bruised hand was finally exposed.

 

“Oh Pelmans’ secretary stood on it.” Adam replied dismissively.

 

“Shucks, must have done a running jump to do that much damage.”  Hoss grimaced.

 

“Well,  it’ll heal.  I’ve had worse.”  Adam laughed, that warm chuckle deep from within his throat that made them both smile. 

 

“Yeah, you sure have, remember that time you were in the wagon with the supplies and it went off the road.  Shucks, a whole sack of flour landed right beside ya - Hop Sing was madder than a hornet, he was jumping up and down and all the time you were covered in flour looking like a ghost.”

 

“Banged myself up pretty much too, if I recall -” Adam laughed again, and caught the warmth in his father’s eyes as Ben glanced up from rebinding his hand.   “Pa -” his tone became serious now and his father waited for the words to come “Pa,  it’s possible I could be drummed out of the service today, you won’t be too ashamed of me if that happens will you?”

 

Ben said nothing as he bound up his son’s hand, then he looked up and placed his hand upon his son’s shoulder,

 

“Adam, nothing you have ever done in the past and nothing you could ever do in the future would make me ashamed of you.”

 

Adam glanced at Hoss who nodded and mumbled something indecipherable but meaningful.   Adam nodded, looked at his hand and smiled his thanks at his father who clapped his hands together and declared that his son needed to have a shave in order to look presentable later that day.

 

“While you’re doing that, tell me what’s going on in Virginia City.   How’s Barbara?  You never mentioned her yesterday when you were here.  Is she alright?”  he paused and ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, “Did she receive my letter, do you know?”

 

He listened attentively to what Ben and Hoss told him, about Barbara and her plans to marry Andrew Pearson.  If Adam felt any sadness or self regret he never showed it, but he nodded and smiled as though the person about whom they were speaking had never once been in his arms, never once been kissed by his lips, never spoke of marriage and a home and children of their own.

 

………………….

 

Pelman didn’t take long to track down his wife who was sitting in her own suite of rooms with Andre Eugene sitting in the chair opposite her.  True, the chairs were very close and his knee was touching her skirts, but it was obvious from the look on their faces that niether of them were planning anything clandestine.  Andre was looking far too upset, and his hands were gesturing wildly as he talked.

 

“What are you doing here?” Pelman stood at the entrance to the room staring at them both,  “I thought you were told never to step foot in this building unless I sent for you?”

 

“You don’t understand -” Cassandra said in her soft drawl ing voice, “ This has nothing to do with your schemes, Pelman, Andre is here as a friend, he has had a bit of a shock.” and she looked at Andre and raised her eyebrows as though urging him to speak for himself.

 

“Well?   What kind of shock?”

 

“My wife, Jeannette, she’s left me to return home to her parents.”

 

Pelman blinked, looked at Cassandra as though to ask her what she expected of him in the matter and then looked at Andre

 

“Well, why don’t you go and get her back.”

 

“I - I can’t -” Andre shook his head, “She doesn’t want to come back.”

 

“Then drag her back.”  Pelman said in such a cold tone of voice that his wife looked at him with what could only be described as loathing on her face, “She’s just a woman after all, and apart from that, she knows too much.”

 

“No,  no - she doesn’t know that much at all.” Andre flustered, and rose from his chair, “She was never told much, I assure you.”

 

“Assure me all you like, but the fact is that whatever she  knows is too much-” Alfred Pelman strode over to the array of drinks on a cabinet and picked up a whisky bottle, he poured some into a glass and swallowed it down in one long draught, “Drag her home by the hair if necessary and then lock her up.”

 

Cassandra rose quite regally to her feet and approached her husband slowly, looked deep into his face and shook her head,

 

“What kind of man are you, Pelman?   O’Flaherty’s missing, his wife is dead and now you’re more or less signing Jeannette’s death warrant.   Jeannette won’t talk about anything she knows, whatever it may be.   She may be a silly woman in some ways, but she is loyal to her friends - which is more than can be said for either of you.”

 

She looked with contempt at Andre, and then with a very straight back and her head held high, she left the room.

 

“You had better do as I say -” Alfred Pelman hissed at Andre, “Get her back and lock her in her room and if needs be, throw away the key.”

 

………………………….

 

Henry Eugene stepped back from the shadows and slipped into the small ante chamber next to the room in which the preceding conversation had taken place.    When his brother appeared and began to walk down the corridor he swiftly followed him so that by the time Andre was about to step into his buggy, Henry was immediately behind him and followed him into the vehicle.

 

“What the dickens are you doing here, Henry?”

 

“I followed you from Pelman’s.  I heard your conversation with him.”

 

“Hear my - what?  You eavesdropped?”

 

“Of course.  Why not?  How else would I find out anything about what is happening around here.”   Henry gave the signal to the driver to move on, and leaned back against the leather padded upholstery of the buggy’s interior, “You’ll leave Jeannette alone, Andre.   Let her go back to her parents or friends if she feels she needs to.  Leave her in peace.”

 

“How can I?  That wretched man knows too much and I can’t leave her to go telling anyone -”

 

“What can she tell them that they probably won’t find out soon anyway?” Henry interrupted the piteous wail with a cold analytical statement of face.  His eyes looked into Andre’s and he shook his head, “You were always the smart one, the one with a head for business, the one who knew the answers.   Here you are now, unravelling at the seams - I admired you once, then I got scared of you especially when you got so close to the Pelmans - yes, her as well, she’s as bad as her husband and well you know it.  Do you think they care what happens to you?”

 

“Cassie is my cousin -”

 

“She’s my cousin too.” Henry shook his head, “No, don’t fool yourself into thinking she will ever consider blood thicker than water, or the marriage bond - she won’t.”  he frowned, “At least she came out in support of Jeannette, but that was mainly because it was in opposition of her husband.   You know the old saying, Andre, when thieves fall out -” he smiled then, a cold smile that caught Andre once again, unawares.

 

“Pelman knows too much about -” he sighed “about my business dealings.”

 

“Then more fool you for letting him know - oh, of course, it was Cassie you told really, wasn’t it?  You are a fool, Andre.”

 

“Coming from you, Harry, -!” he snorted in derisive contempt and looked away from his brother as the buggy passed along the road, pass the houses he had seen built during his time there, pass the harbour where the two dead ships remained a scar upon the horizon.

 

“Yes, I was a fool.  I should never have come back here after Shiloh.”

 

“No, you should have stayed in some other rat hole.  Slinking back here like the coward you were.  If it hadn’t been for you, none of this would have happened.  You and your stupid pacifist views, once Pelman knew about you and how you deserted your men what chance did we have?”

 

Henry didn’t speak for  a second or two, he had gone white, the colour just faded from his flesh, but he couldn’t speak.  He saw in his minds eye the carnage of that battle ground, the dead, dying, wounded.  He heard their cries, their screams.  Horses mutilated, adding their screams to those of dying men.  He shook his head.

 

“I ran.  I admit it.  So did others.   But, Andre, you made me pay for it every second of my life since.  You made me a coward and a fool.   Not any longer though.   I’m warning you - leave Jeannette alone.”

 

“For goodness sake, she’s my wife, I have every right to get her and bring her home.”

 

“No, Andre.  Let her come home because she wants to,  later on.   If she loves you she will, believe me.”

 

Andre looked at his brother as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He looked at his brother and saw the face of someone he once knew, a face that had somehow changed. Resolute.  Honest. Then he looked down and saw the snub nosed barrel of a gun pointed at him.

 

…………………….

 

Ben Cartwright entered  his hotel room and put down his hat,  then took out the envelope that the Hotel Receptionist had handed him earlier.  He smiled and wondered if it were from Joe, but then when he read the inscription on the envelope realised he didn’t recognise the writing.  He slit the envelope open, and pulled out the long letter which he smoothed out as he walked further into the room towards Hoss.

 

“Dear Mr Cartwright -” it began and he glanced down at the signature, and read “Henry Eugene.”

 

Chapter 111

 

Commodore Alfred Pelman straightened his jacket and looked at his reflection in the cheval mirror.  He was not an unattractive man even at his age, balding and rather stocky, but still able to look good in his uniform.  He brushed away some dust from his sleeve and then looked down at his  boots.  They shone.  Just as he would outshine his opponent he told himself.  Everything was going well.  Too bad about Lawrence and Jenkins, but better to weed out the weaklings now.  Later, when it came to count out the rewards it would just mean a larger share for those who were still on the list.

 

The door opened after a tentative knock and Jonas emerged.  He paused at the doorway before entering the room,  handing two letters to Pelman and promptly leaving the room,.

 

Pelman put the letters down carefully upon a table and stared at them.  He recognised the writing.  He could imagine what was said on the cards within the envelopes …such short notice too.  He scowled,  short notice, no time for replacements now.   He picked up his medals and fastened them onto his jacket and looked at himself once again, just for reassurance.   

 

He fastened his sword to his belt.  A ceremonial sword, but razor sharp.  Cassandra had said once that she liked seeing him all swash buckle and handsome in his dress uniform.   He preened himself just a little and left the room.

 

She was standing at the window, tall and stately in her newest dress.  Standing there like that made him catch his breath.  She was another one of his possessions, but what a magnificent one.   She turned her head and looked at him,

 

“Is it that time already?” she said in a very slow quiet voice.

 

“Yes.”  he straightened his shoulders wanting her commendation, a compliment to set him on his way, but she merely lowered her head before returning to look out of the window.

 

Disappointed he left the room,  strode through the office where once he had interviewed Captain Cartwright and Lieutenant O’Brien,  swept by Jonas Thaler who was just able to hand him his folder of papers as he went through the other door into the corridors and down the stairs.  

 

Once outside he inhaled a deep breath, and then stepped into the cab that was waiting to take him to the building where the Court Martial was to take place.   He coughed, cleared his throat, looked at both hands just to make sure they were not shaking because for some reason he was feeling decidedly nervous inside.  He adjusted his cravat, touched each button to make sure they were fastened, then sat back and resisted the temptation to think anymore about Cassandra and her lack of wifely kindness.  There was a far more important issue at stake now, far more important.

 

………………..

 

Jonas Thaler opened several drawers in his superior’s desk and took his time to look through various documents, papers and private letters.  One by one he discarded some,  others he placed in a somewhat cumbersome briefcase.   One drawer was locked, but being the private and confidential servant he had possession of a key. One of the first things he had done when taking on employment with the Commodore was to take an impression of all the keys that came through his hands at some time or another.   Now he made good use of this particular key and slid open the drawer.

 

Government Bonds in pristine condition.   He smiled and sat down in Pelman’s chair while he carefully, slowly, meticulously bundled them up and placed them into his briefcase.   Then he closed the drawer, locked it and with a satisfied smile on his face he buckled up the case, and walked out of the office.  Like his superior he went down the steps that swept down to the vestibule with its marble floor , opened the door and breathed in the fresh air.

 

He walked without haste down the sidewalk with his slightly mincing steps.  From the window of her room Cassandra watched him  until he had disappeared from sight.   She smiled to herself and returned to her room where she sat down in front of a mirror and began to take her jewellery from her drawer.  There came a time, she mused, when all good things came to an end.   She had a feeling that this was such a time.

 

Adam Cartwright looked at his father and smiled slowly.  How strange to think that he was going to have to face  Judge and Jury now in a Court Martial yet his father was insistent on pinning the one and only medal he had ever received upon his jacket.   To Adam it hardly mattered now.   He drew in a deep breath and glanced over his father’s shoulder to smile at Hoss who was watching them with a strange vacant expression on his face.  Not that that meant anything. It just meant that Hoss was thinking deep thoughts that he preferred to keep screened off from anyone else’s scrutiny.

 

Ben finally stepped back and smiled in satisfaction. The medal was pinned in place.  His son looked immaculate  - well, save for the bandaged hand, the bruising on his face.  He nodded, and placed his hand upon his son’s neck, a gesture of paternal pride and one that his son greatly appreciated even if he didn’t feel able to reciprocate with any filial demonstration of affection at that time.

 

The uniform fitted him perfectly.  The epaulets gleamed upon his shoulders.  The medal was placed  just above his heart.   The ceremonial sword was at his side, and his hand rested upon it comfortably.  Hoss had polished his brother’s boots until they had shone.   Best of all Adam wore his uniform with pride and dignity, his shoulders were set square, his back straight, and even if his face was rather haggard and the eyes had dark shadows beneath them, it only emphasised the hardships and deprivations of the past months of service he had given his country.

 

“Do I pass?” Adam said with a gentle smile.

 

“You sure do, Adam.  Shucks, you look  real handsome.”

 

“Thank you, brother, that’s good to know.”  he turned to his father, and Ben nodded, his hand squeezed the back of Adam’s neck very gently,

 

“Your mother would have been proud of you, son -” and Ben smiled even more broadly, “All your mother’s would have been proud of you.” and stepped back to view Adam as though seeing him through their eyes.   “I’m proud of you, more than proud.”

 

“That’s all I need to know, Pa.  Thank you.”

 

The cell door opened and one of the Marines stepped inside, saluted,  held himself erect and tall,

 

“It’s time now, sir.”

 

Adam nodded,  shook his father and brother by the hand and then fell in line with the two Marines who were to escort him to the room where the Court Martial was to be held.

 

As he passed the big windows he glanced outside,  his first view of the harbour since the night of the fire.   He saw the two ships entangled in their dark death throes.  Then he saw the cabs and coaches arriving, driving down towards the big arch under which the Officers who formed the Panel would be driven to where the doors would open up to receive them.

 

By the time they had walked the length of the corridor, up one flight of stairs and down another all the members of the Panel, the Judge, the secretary taking the notes of the proceedings and members of the public would be in their seats.  In another room the witnesses would be seated, waiting for their names to be called.  He thought of O’Brien, and bit his lip, perhaps there would be found some others who would testify for him.   He wondered how many witnesses Pelman would have found to testify against him. 

 

Their booted feet rang out upon the marble flooring.    In his head their footsteps had the most ominous ring to them.    He thought of his father, of Hoss and Joe.    He wished he could have turned the clock back and never set foot in that office, never accepted the assignment.   But his father was proud of him.  Adam cleared his throat and prepared himself for battle.

 

…………………………….

 

In the big room of the Ponderosa the clock ticked away the minutes and Hop Sing brought in some food on a tray which he placed at Joe’s elbow.    The young man felt lethargic and listless.  He had told Candy he had wanted to see no one, he was tired, he was miserable, he felt desperately alone.   A cable had arrived that morning for him from his father to tell him that today was the day of the Court Martial.  

 

He had let the cable flutter to the ground.  Just to fall from his fingers onto the floor while he stood staring at the far wall feeling so alone.   He should have been there too,  taken his brothers side, given him whatever support was possible, instead he was here, a useless frustrated invalid.

 

He glanced now at the clock.  The cablegram was open on the table, by the side of the tray were the letters Adam had written during his absence.  Joe picked one up and held it in his hands before bowing his head, putting his hands with the letter to his face.   He had always been an emotional man, easily given to tears, to passion of any kind.   His mother had been of French descent, part Creole and had passed on such intensity of feelings to her son …  now he wept tears of impotent frustration, anxiety for his brother, and fear for himself.   What if he were never to walk properly again, never able to ride again.  Of what use would he ever be now to anyone?

 

The clock struck the hour.  He closed his eyes behind his hands, the words on the paper were now all smudged with his tears … “Oh dear God, help us now.” he begged, “Help us now .”

 

 

Chapter 111

 

As the hour struck a gun was fired from the Admiral’s ship which lay in the harbour.  This was customary to announce the beginning of the Court Martial.  The Marines presented their arms, and the Captains who were to take part on the panel took their seats.

 

Ben and Hoss took their seats in the public gallery, for Court Martials are open to the public although what they witness was not for publication.     All assembled were sworn in, which took a little time.  Adam was glad to see four empty seats, but his pleasure didn’t last long when noted that three of the Officers were those particularly antagonistic towards him.   Many Officers who had served from ’one end to the other of a ship’, that is, started their careers as boys at the smelly end of the ship and worked their way to seniority to the ’better’ end resented those who either bought their commissions or entered the service as Adam had done.    They glared rather down their noses at him, although when their eyes fell upon the Congressional Medal of Honor they seemed rather taken aback.

 

There was one officer whose name Adam could link with the list of names he had seen.  He wondered just how impartial the man would be when evidence was given and was even more concerned when he saw Captain Jackson exchange a significant look with Pelman who was puffing out his chest as though the case had already been fought and won.

 

A long table ran the length of the hall and six Captains took their chairs with the Admiral taking his place at the head in his acting position as President.   Commodore Pelman sat at his right hand, although he would be standing throughout the examination of witnesses whom he could cross question in his position as Prosecutor.

 

Adam stood by the Judge-Advocate by whom a small table and chair was set for Ernest Mulholland, who was setting out his papers with an air of diligent confidence.  He glanced up at the public gallery and nodded to Ben and Hoss,  both of whom were already beginning to feel totally overwhelmed.

 

Pelman read out the charges and to the two previously stated had been added several others - disobedience in the carrying out of orders was one, insubordination towards a superior officer was another.   Adam cast a glance at Mulholland knowing that he would not have prepared for an answer to these charges having not known of them nor having had the time to question Adam upon them.   Mulholland merely shook his head and continued to look confident.  There was nothing Adam could do but remain standing to attention, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and await the outcome.

 

The Panel accepted the charges and the court martial was granted to commence.  Pelman requested to proceed with his first charge against the accused and called Daniel O’Brien as his first witness.   Adam didn’t move a muscle to indicate that this was a blow to him,  for Daniel was anticipated as a witness for the defence,  not the prosecution.   He took a deep breath and kept his eyes straight ahead.

 

Daniel’s clear voice was heard giving his name and rank.   Like Adam he wore his dress uniform, and wore it proudly.  He was rather red in the face from embarrassment and discomfort not having expected to be called by Pelman as his witness on the  charge  of the Captain being disobedient to orders.

 

“Please inform the Court of the orders you were given by myself prior to your leaving San Francisco in April this year.” Pelman’s voice rang with self confidence,  his eyes gleamed with the satisfaction he felt at knowing he would have caused Adam some discomfiture by calling Daniel as the first witness.

 

“The orders were to go to a certain location and to collect some documents.  These documents were to be returned to -” Daniel paused, frowned, “to a superior officer.”

 

“And did your Captain collect those documents?”

 

“He did, sir.”

 

“Where are they now, Mr O’Brien?”

 

“I do not know, sir.”

 

“You are on oath, Mr O’Brien.”

 

“I know that, sir, but I can assure you I do not know where the documents are.”

 

“Do you know what the documents were about?”

 

“They were written in Cyrillic Russian, Commodore.  I don’t read the language and - if you do not mind my mentioning it - the matter was considered private and confidential and I have not memory of that situation having changed.”

 

“Nevertheless - as you do not know where the documents are, you can confirm that they were not handed to myself?”

 

“I can confirm that, sir.” O’Brien replied very slowly, as though testing out each word in the hope that not one of them would hurt Adam’s position.

 

“Let us proceed to the next matter - along with the documents your Captain was given the order to bring a woman known as Irena Pestchouroff here to America.  Did he do this?”

 

“He did not, sir.” O’Brien’s brow creased and he blinked rather rapidly.

 

“Did he give any explanation as to why not?”

 

“He acted on his own discretion, sir.  It was not for me to question that - the situation was difficult.”

 

“Difficult or not,  Captain Cartwright disobeyed orders, did he not?”

 

“If I may -”

 

“Did he not?”

 

O’Brien turned in appeal to the Captains on the panel, Captain Jackson leaned forward

 

“You must answer the question, Lieutenant.”

 

“He did not bring the woman to America.” O’Brien sighed and his hand on the hilt of his sword trembled slightly.

 

“Thank you, Lieutenant O’Brien -” Pelman grinned like a Cheshire cat and opened his mouth to continue with another question when one of the Captains leaned forward

 

“Lieutenant, what happened to the woman?”

 

“She was killed, sir.”

 

“Ah well, then -” this Officer shrugged, “Hardly worth bringing back a corpse, huh?”

 

No one thought it particularly funny nor amusing, but the point was made and O’Brien was grateful for small mercies.  He ran the tip of his tongue around his lips, surprised at how dry they were already.

 

Mulholland rose to his feet now and asked the panel if he may address the witness, even though he would be called to stand for the defence later.

 

“I think not,” Pelman said abruptly.

 

Mulholland looked at the panel, raised his eyebrows, and sat down.  No one moved.  Hoss scratched his head and looked at his father, who sighed and shook his head. 

 

“Lieutenant O’Brien - there was another order given to your Captain which he received in a written despatch when he boarded ship.   It gave your location and directions that upon encountering any Russian ships you were to do what?”

 

“There was to be no hostilities.   Gun ports were closed.  No weapons to be shown, exhibited, displayed at all.”

 

“Yet is it not true that upon encountering a Russian ship, your Captain fired upon it causing it to sink with loss of lives?”  Pelman shouted the question and there followed immediately complete silence.  All the Captains on the panel turned their eyes upon Adam who remained steady on his feet although rather pale.

 

“I would like to add, sir, that there were extenuating circumstances - you see, the Russian ship -”

 

“Just answer the question.”

 

“I cannot answer the question with a simple yes or no, Commodore.  With all due respect there is far more involved than you allow.”

 

Jackson once again reminded O’Brien to answer the question, O’Brien deliberated and then braced himself for the fall out from his answer, he replied a very resounding NO.

 

Pelman frowned,  he looked at O’Brien and then at the Captains, reminded O’Brien he was still under oath, but O’Brien remained defiant. 

 

“Captain Cartwright did not order the Ainola to fire upon the Russian ship, sir, although -”

 

“Leave that to the defence, sir.” one of the other Captains said in a kinder tone than expected and O’Brien nodded.  Pelman, having realised he could not proceed on those charges asked if he could question the witness with regard to the charge of dereliction of duty.  He was permitted to do so.

 

“Lieutenant O’Brien, I understand that upon reaching San Francisco your Captain had to be escorted to my offices, refused to bring the log book,  which you yourself delivered.   Yet his orders were to report to my officer immediately he arrived in harbour.”

 

“Captain Cartwright had first to pay off his men.  After which he was going to attend your office as would have been normal under any circumstances, sir.”

 

“But I had to send out a party of men to escort him from the ship -”

 

O’Brien opened his mouth to protest, to declare that the men sent to escort Adam were not even Marines, had in fact been men sent to prevent him from reaching Adam months earlier.  He closed his mouth and cleared his throat.

 

“A group of men did come to escort Captain Cartwright from the ship -”

 

“Thank you, sir.” Pelman relaxed a little, his witness was exhibiting signs of becoming  hostile, and he wanted him out of the witness box now.  He glanced down at his papers, “Upon his return he once again left the ship and went to visit family friends.  He did not return and in the meantime his ship was lost,  burned out, with the loss of several men.”

 

“Nine very good men, sir.” O’Brien said quietly.

 

“Exactly.    You may leave now.”

 

O’Brien paused, looked to the panel but received no encouragement to stay and answer any further questions.   He saluted, glanced at Adam who remained as stiff as a post staring at a point on the far wall.   He left the room and slumped into his seat in the antechamber struggling to go over and over in his head on the things he had said in the hope that nothing would have condemned his friend.  He had an terrible feeling that he had not come out of the cross examination as well as he had hoped.

 

There were several other witnesses called for the Prosecution.   Some were fellow ship mates on the Ainola who confirmed that Adam had fired upon the Russian ship.  Various other minor infringements that several of the panel queried and succeeded in exposing as nonsensical to have been brought to their attention, a Captain on board his own vessel had the freedom to exercise what discretionary powers he chose.

 

A civilian was next brought to the witness stand and declared himself to be a doctor.  He was the Eugene’s private doctor and gave evidence to the fact that he had been called to attend a gentleman on a particular evening.

 

“Was this gentleman ill?”

 

“Not ill, but very drunk.”

 

“Is it unusual to call out a doctor  just because a man is drunk?”

 

“Well, in this case the gentleman was so drunk that he had fallen down the stairs and broken some ribs, some bones in his hand and cut his head quite badly.  He was out cold.  Mr O’Flaherty the butler employed by Mr and Mrs Eugene attended to him while I was there.”

 

“Did the ‘gentleman’ say anything to you at all?”

 

“Oh no, he was quite out of it.  I expected a concussion but did not see him again.”

 

“And this gentleman - do you see him here at all. Point him out if you do?”

 

The doctor pointed Adam out without any difficulty.  Adam bit his lip and glanced at Mulholland who rose to his feet and asked if he could address a question to the doctor.   He was given permission to do so

 

“Are you sure that this is the gentleman you were called in to see?”

 

“Indeed yes, a fine handsome man.”  the doctor nodded and smiled.

 

“Is it not possible, Doctor, for the injuries you were asked to look at that evening, to have been caused to Captain Cartwright at some other time?”

 

“I don’t understand -”

 

“Well, is it not possible for someone to be injured one day, and for you not to see those injuries until some other time?”

 

The Doctor looked confused, he frowned, looked at Adam

 

“Well, yes, I suppose it is possible but hardly likely.”

 

“Just answer yes or no, Doctor.”

 

“Then I suppose it would be yes, it would be possible.”

 

It was the first time Pelman looked a trifle disconcerted. 

 

“Pa?” Hoss leaned towards his father, “Pa, this sure looks like some kinda frame up to me.”

 

“Possibly.” Ben said and looked anxiously at his son who had now stood for  some time with out flinching.   “Just wait and see what happens, there’s nothing we can do at the present time.”

 

Pelman now called his other witnesses. His charges were put forward, his questions addressed to the people concerned, the answers confirmed what Hoss suspected, it was a stitch up, every witness gave the answers they had been paid to give.   Mulholland did not rise in his seat to question any of them.   He took notes, bided his time.

 

The matter of the loss of the ship was addressed.  The harbour master who had been present that evening could not be summoned as he had been ‘taken ill’.    The panel were given to understand that had Captain Cartwright been at his post the ship would not have been lost.  The resulting cross examination of various ‘witnesses’ not only substantiated Pelman’s claim against Adam for dereliction of duty but slandered O’Brien, making it appear that he was an incompetent officer.  

 

When the time came for recess Pelman was gloating in self glorification.  He cast a withering look at his victim and strode out of the hall with no fears that a defence could stand against what had already been heard.

 

Jotham Morton left the building.  Slipping quietly from his seat and hurrying to the main thoroughfare to catch a cab.    He returned in time to resume his seat for the hearing of the defence.

 

Chapter 112

 

The court re-convened without Ben or Hoss being able to see or speak to Adam who had sat in deep conversation with Mulholland throughout the recess.  Mulholland appeared calm and when several pieces of paper were handed to him by the Clerk to the Court he just smiled and seem altogether too happy for Ben’s nerves to handle it.    

 

Several more people came into the crowded public gallery.  Ben recognised Henry Eugene among them, taking his seat calmly and appearing at ease with himself and his surroundings.   Like some others he wore his uniform, although not his dress uniform, and folded his arms across his chest as he watched the proceedings unfold.

 

“Captain Cartwright?”    The Admiral looked at the other man thoughtfully, “We have here a letter which lists a number of charges you wish to bring against Commodore Pelman.”

 

“That is so,  sir.”

 

Adam’s deep voice sounded relaxed and confident, Hoss in the public gallery nudged his Pa and nodded, smiled and was going to cheer but Ben grabbed his arm and prevented him from doing so.  Jamieson and William, seated on the row below them, glanced up and nodded as though they too were proud to hear the Captain speak up so boldly.

 

“We shall listen to your defence and if we feel that anything said during the course of it substantiates your charges then arrangements will be made for a further investigation into them.”  he turned to Pelman, “You do understand what we are saying, don’t you, Commodore?”

 

Pelman nodded thoughtfully, then glanced over at Adam who maintained his stance, saluted the Admiral and panel and stepped back to stand beside Mulholland and the judge-advocate.

 

Mulholland rose now, and asked for Lieutenant O’Brien to come forward.  The young man did so, and stood patiently waiting for Mulholland to address him.  He sought vainly to catch Adam’s eye but was unable as Adam continued to stare at the blank spot on the wall ahead.

 

“You were asked by the Commodore why the Captain had not brought the lady, Irena Pestchouroff, to America as ordered.   You said that it was left to the Captain’s discretion as to why he had not brought her, and that she was now dead.  Do you know how she died?”

 

“Not exactly.”  O’Brien frowned, “We know that she was killed by a Russian, that’s all.”

 

“So -” Mulholland frowned, “did the Captain actually bring her on the journey back to the ship?  In fact, was there any attempt by the Captain to obey his orders in this particular respect?”

 

Pelman shot a look of delight at Adam at these questions, it seemed to him as though Mulholland was destroying his own case by re-asserting just how disobedient the Captain had been.  O’Brien must have thought the same as he stared rather miserably at the lawyer before clearing his throat again,

 

“The Captain had to leave our encampment to fetch her.  He went in a two manned kayak through ice floes in water that so cold that it could kill in less than 2 minutes.   He did not bring her back with him.”

 

“So she died by the Russians hand.”

 

“Yes.   He intimated it later when he attacked us when on our way to the ship”

 

“So this Russian attacked you?   How many of you were there?”

 

“Five.  Four of us and an Inuit guide.”

 

“Was the Russian alone?”

 

“No, he had a force of about -” O’Brien paused in order to recall to mind the scene by the ice barricade “25 men.”

 

“So he attacked you - how did you all fare?”

 

“The Inuit disappeared, we thought he had deserted us.  Rostov and Lawson were shot.  Then the Captain was shot.”

 

“Yourself?”

 

“Yes.  I also.” O’Brien’s voice was lowered, people in the public gallery had to lean forward to catch his words.  Adam, for the first time, moved by lowering his head in respect of his dead.

 

“So if Madame Pestchouroff had left with the Captain, she would probably also have been shot.”

 

“Yes.  She would not have survived.  The Captain nearly died, it was by sheer good fortune and God’s mercy that he was found and brought to the ship by our men.  I survived only because -” he glanced at Adam who had resumed his previous stance, “because the Captain made sure I was secured on a sledge and taken to the ship by the Inuit who had returned.”

 

“May I ask a question?” Pelman rose, a slightly less confident figure now, “Lieutenant, you paint a picture of bravado and courage, but isn’t it likely that the woman would have survived?  You can’t categorically state that she would have been killed.”

 

“I can, sir, and I do.”  O’Brien replied.

 

Hoss grinned, looked at his Pa, slapped his hand upon Jamieson’s shoulder - then he heaved a deep sigh at the thought of his brother suffering as he had so far away from them all.

 

“Can you tell us what happened to the Russian?”

 

“Lebedeve, the Russian, came forward to shoot the Captain, I saw the Captain fall and fired my gun.”  he struggled to contain his emotions, the scene was suddenly so vivid in his mind, “He fell and was taken away by the remaining soldiers.  Captain Cartwright had thought we were all three dead men, he had seen the Inuit leave, and even though the Russians had their guns trained on him he still refused to hand over the documents over which this whole issue revolves.  He obeyed his orders to the letter, sir.”

 

“That -” Captain Jackson said coldly “Is not for you to judge.”

 

“Regarding firing on the Russian ship.   Was the Captain disobeying orders there?”

 

“The Russian was a steel plated man of war and fired canisters at us.  We were hit badly but the Captain was trying to get the ship to outdistance the Russian rather than fire on her.   But she was gaining on us so he ordered that we opened fire - on the glacier along which the ship was passing.   It was his intention to bring down enough ice and cause enough disruption for our ship to gain the open sea and out distance her.”

 

“But the ship was sunk?”

 

“Yes,  the bombardment from her against us had already loosened far more of the ice than we had imagined.  The whole mass fell down and capsized her.   The Captain immediately ordered a boat to go to her and to pick up any survivors, which we did.”

 

“Even though you had yourself been holed and had men in the water?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“We’ve heard evidence from various men serving on the Ainola stating that Captain Cartwright had fired on the Russian ship.  By your statement you are accusing your fellow seamen of perjury, you do realise that, don’t you?”

 

“They were possibly mistaken as to the Captain’s intentions, sir.   They would not have been privy to the conversations being held between the Officers.”  O’Brien said gallantly.

 

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”  Mulholland picked up the papers and then glanced up again at the young Officer, “Is the Captain a heavy drinker?”

 

“No, sir.  I’ve never seen him even slightly affected by drink.”

 

“Yet we have heard that he sustained injuries whilst very drunk, so drunk that he was injured.   How do you account for that -”

 

“I can account for that -” came a cry from the public gallery and Henry Eugene rose to his feet.  “If you would permit me to speak.”

 

The Panel looked at one another, then at Henry.   Adam rolled his eyes and lowered his head, before raising it again and tugging at his ear lobe. 

 

“If you wish to act as a witness for the defence, sir, you will have to adjourn to the other chamber and wait to be called.” the Admiral admonished, and Henry nodded in compliance and quickly left the room.

 

“Do you know how the Captain was hurt, sir?” Mulholland resumed his questioning and O’Brien cleared his throat once more, the heat in the room was becoming unbearable, and some men were requested to open the windows to allow some air to flow into the hall.

 

“Captain Cartwright was escorted from the Ainola, as you know, and taken to the Commodore’s offices.  He was detained there, by force.”

 

“That’s a lie,” Pelman cried, thumping his fist upon the desk.

 

“Lieutenant, have you any proof of this assertion?”

 

“I and several Marines from the Ainola, were concerned by the Captain’s absence.  I realised the log had been left on his desk for the escort were so persistent that the Captain leave the ship that he had no time to return to collect it.  So I took the log with me to present to the Commodore.  We found the Captain after he had made an escape from a room  in which he had been held by force under the orders of the Commodore.”

 

This statement caused a trickle of murmuring around the room, Pelman rose to his feet,

 

“This is all part of the slander that Captain Cartwright has put about concerning myself, sirs.” he stated with some dignity to the Panel.   “He had presented his case to me, and left.  There was no more involvement with him from thereon.”

 

Mulholland nodded, and looked at O’Brien, told him he could step down and the next witness, a Dr Cleminson, to come to the stand.  Pelman was baffled, he glanced at Mulholland and then at Adam.   Dr Cleminson entered, confirmed that he had treated Adam Cartwright in an hotel room occupied by a Lieutenant and Mrs O’Brien.    When asked the date of the examination he confirmed it to be previous to the examination claimed by Pelman’s medical witness.  

 

Captain Jackson was beginning to feel that the tide was turning seriously against them.   He looked anxiously at Pelman who chose to ignore but rose to his feet,

 

“I think, sir,” he said addressing Mulholland, “ that in the words of Abraham Lincoln, all one can say with regard to that evidence is - big fee, big lie.”

 

Mulholland took the insult well, he looked at the Panel, and then at Pelman.  

 

“Objection.” he said simply and Captain Forsyth leaned towards the Commodore and cautioned him to show more restraint.

 

“I would like to come to the situation of the fireship which destroyed the Ainola.” said the lawyer and he asked for the next witness to come forth.

 

Jotham Morton now appeared assisting a man who had obviously sustained some injuries for not only did he look ill, but his arm was in a sling,  and it was all he could do to put one step before the other.   Jotham had a book under his arm and this he handed to the clerk of the court who handed it to the Admiral.

 

The missing harbour master.   Mulholland asked several questions all of which confirmed the report that had been neatly written down the night of the fire.  An old derelict ship had been set loose from its anchors.   Someone with the knowledge of the tides and currents of the harbour knew it would sail close to the Ainola.  There were no lights to warn any ship that she was loose.   There was evidence found on the beach of a boat having been used that night and lying in the position best suited to reach the old ship.  As harbour master he was going to set about a complete investigation.

 

“And did you succeed in getting this investigation under way?”

 

“No,  sir, I was attacked at my home and had to be taken to the infirmary.  Thankfully I hid my log.   Captain Cartwright and the young Officer already questioned here, acted admirably, helping to pull people out of the water.   Some lives were lost, yes, but some, thankfully, saved.”

 

The harbour master was assisted from the hall by Jotham, and Mulholland turned to the panel

 

“I was going to cross examine a Mr O’Flaherty, sir, butler to the Eugene household but he appears to have disappeared.   May I ask a Mr Jerome to come to the stand.”

 

“Who is Mr Jerome?”

 

“An engineer, sir.”

 

Mr Jerome came to the stand.  He put forth his evidence neatly and concisely.  He had examined the old ship and found evidence of a timing device, and fuses.  He could confirm that in his opinion the ship did not go up in flames through any other reason than by a deliberate act by person or persons unknown.  

 

Pelman mopped his brow but mustered up a smile and shrug of the shoulders, as Jerome left the stand.

 

“Mr Mulholland,” the Admiral smiled, “I do congratulate you on a very impressive array of witnesses.  Have you any more before we can cross examine Captain Cartwright?”

 

“One more only, sir.   Mr Henry Eugene.”

 

Henry took his position and gave his details.  Adam took a quick look at him with a rather anxious expression on his face.  He had expected Andre to have made an appearance but not Henry.

 

“Mr Eugene, earlier today when discussing the situation at your home when Captain Cartwright was accused of being drunk - you expressed a desire to speak in connection with that matter.  Well, sir, perhaps you could us your version of the events now, if you so please.”

 

“Thank you,” Henry bowed towards the panel and composed his features.  He was not an unattractive man, and now that he had regained his self possession and a degree of self respect he appeared a far more presentable person, he looked briefly at Pelman and then glanced over at Adam who was still maintaining his rigid posture, only the slight furrow of his brow indicated that he was rather concerned about what exactly Henry was about to say.

 

“On the evening in question Captain Cartwright came solely to visit old family friends.  His father, Ben Cartwright, was a great friend of our fathers, well respected.  It was not unusual for Adam to visit our home with his father when they came to ‘Frisco.   But, over the intervening years, things had changed a lot.   My father had died and -”

 

“Mr Eugene - keep to the facts please.  Mr Mulholland, please keep your witness from digression.”

 

“Captain Cartwright came to visit us.  He had been in some scrap as was obvious from the bruises to his face, a broken hand.  He had these injuries prior to his visit to our home.  During the course of the evening a drug was administered in his drink that rendered him unconscious.   He was taken to the spare room and the butler maintained a watch over him to make sure he didn’t leave the room at any time during the evening.”

 

“You do admit that you were engaged, with your family, in a criminal act?  May we ask why?”  Captain Durrant asked in some tones of amazement.

 

“My brother had business links with Commodore Pelman.  In essence he did as he was told …”  Henry paused as a ripple of comment trickled around the court room,  he bowed his head, “I’m  as guilty as anyone.  I stood back and let it all happen.  I did nothing to prevent it and would like to now offer Captain Cartwright my apologies.” he sighed deeply and continued “Commodore Pelman wanted Captain Cartwright out of the way, unable to get on board the ship to prevent what  he had planned to do.”

 

“You’re making very serious allegations, Lieutenant Eugene.” Mulholland said quietly.

 

Jackson agreed and his response was echoed by several others.  Pelman was struggling to find the right words but finally managed to stammer that he was confounded by what he had heard, all of it lies and untruths.

 

The Admiral leaned forward now and looked seriously at Henry

 

“You’ve taken a sworn oath to tell the truth, sir.   If what you say is true then other matters must be taken in to consideration.    It would  be advisable if you said nothing more but  contacted a lawyer in order to prepare you own defences against any charges Commodore Pelman may wish to bring against you.”

 

Henry wasn’t too sure how to take this advice, he looked at Mulholland who merely inclined his head.  When he had left the hall Ernest Mulholland turned to the panel

 

“I would now like to ask Captain Cartwright if he would care to answer some questions with regard to the charges set against him by Commodore Pelman?”

 

The request was granted and Adam finally made his way to the stand.

 

Chapter 113

 

The atmosphere in the hall was now charged with so much tension that Hoss felt as though he were choking.  A tumult of emotions were churning over and over within his breast as he watched his brother walked to the podium and stand smartly to attention before his judges.   Only the dignity of the occasion prevented him from rising to his feet and shouting some encouragement to Adam, who, as though aware of his brother’s feelings now glanced over at him and smiled, raised his eyebrows and winked.

 

Such a familiar look.  Hoss settled back into his seat and nudged his Pa who had smiled back at his son, and raised his chin defiantly as though saying, yet again in his life, ‘Come on, world, we can take it on the chin.’

 

Jamieson and William were on the edge of their seats, elbows rubbing together they sat so closely.    The witnesses in the antechamber were now admitted to the main hall, and had taken their seats.   O’Brien was able to see only the back of his Captain, to see the broad shoulders, and to recognise from them the tension within the man.

 

“Do you think we’re winning?” Jotham breathed into his cousin’s ear and Daniel shrugged

 

“It could go either way.  Pelman’s nervous, he’s sweating.”

 

“In that case my money’s on the Captain.”  Jotham smiled slightly.

 

“Thank you for taking the time to track down the Harbour Master.   His report will go a long way to helping Adam when the Panel go out to consider the case.”

 

“I know - but shush -”

 

Silence fell upon the assembly like a blanket.   More windows were opened and at the request of the Admiral water and glasses was provided for the Panel, Mulholland, Pelman and Adam.   By the door the Marshall and several deputies were silently making their entrance, standing well back and unseen behind the assembled public.

 

“Commodore Pelman, do you have any questions to ask Captain Cartwright?” the Admiral looked at the other man, and Pelman hesitated,

 

“May I leave my questioning until later, sir?”

 

“If that’s your preference.  Please proceed, Mr Muldoon - Mr Mulholland,” the Admiral sighed, “My apologies, sir.”

 

Mulholland inclined his head and gave a faint smile before turning to Adam who stood at the podium with an attentive look upon his face, his lips firm, and his eyes clear and bright.

 

“Captain Cartwright - let us go to the first charge, that of disobeying your orders.  Did you disobey orders as has been mentioned beforehand?”

 

“I did not.” the deep voice was firm and deliberate.   The dark eyes turned to Pelman and the wretch opened his mouth, closed it and sat down, his head inclined towards the speak as though to indicate that he was listening attentively and nothing would pass him.  He was waiting his chance, biding his time.

 

“Perhaps if you told the Panel the orders Commodore Pelman gave you, and to the location you had to go - “

 

“Commodore Pelman’s orders were to go to a certain location to collect some documents and to bring back a woman who was considered to be important to American interests.  The location was a small settlement on some islands in the Bering Strait.    It‘s as close to Russian borders as to Alaskan, but we had also been ordered not to show any hostility towards the Russians.  To appear as a commercial enterprise.”

 

  “So you reached Alaska and acquired the documents, could you explain why you chose not to obey your second order, the one bringing the woman back to America.”

 

“Madam Pestchouroff was a Russian woman married to an  Inuit.   She was a shamen - a doctor - to the local people and when we found her she was attending to the sick in a quarantine area.   She did not want to leave them.   Upon consideration I felt it safer to leave her there.”

 

“Why so?”

 

“A quarantine area means that there was a contagious sickness .   I chose to leave her to care for them, rather than take her and any sickness to my ship.   The people are still relatively unknown to us, they may have sicknesses that we have never encountered before, on board a ship a contagious illness could rage out of control if our doctor could not identify and treat it.”

 

The Officers on the panel shifted in their seats,  several leaned towards each other to mutter among themselves.  Ben looked at his son, and inhaled deeply.  He felt enormous pride in his boy, this man, and yet fear also.   He felt Hoss’ body pressing closer in towards him, and knew  that Hoss was also worried for his brother.

 

“Captain Cartwright, did you not think that perhaps the risk involved could have been worth taking rather than disobeying your orders?” Pelman asked in a brisk no nonsense manner.

 

“Madam Pestchouroff had nothing to offer the American Government.  She was a woman her own people wouldn’t acknowledge, a woman who had lived with the Inuit for so long she no longer considered herself other than Inuit.   She refused money, freedom - she chose to remain with her people.” Adam replied with a sharp edge to the words indicative of his irritation at Pelman.

 

“Yet she died - because you left her there, a vulnerable woman, killed for no reason.”

Pelman barked.

 

“That’s true.” Adam sighed, and he cast down his eyes at the memory of the beautiful woman he had met so briefly, he nodded as though to himself, then looked up again, “Lebedev had orders from certain ones in Russia to get the documents at whatever cost.  He later attacked us.  I can assure you that Madam Pestchouroff would have died at his hand anyway.”

 

“You can’t give any such assurance -” Pelman snapped, “That woman could have still been alive, here in America if you had obeyed orders.”

 

“She would have been killed.  Lebedev was of the breed of men who kill because they enjoy killing.   We were in no position to have protected her.   All of us - four of us -” he shrugged, “Dead or dying - No, I can assure you she died where she would have preferred it.”

 

Pelman shrugged as though really the matter didn’t bother him one way or the other.  Mulholland stepped forward now,

 

“Am I correct in saying that you had another set of orders when you reached your ship after the interview with Commodore Pelman?”

 

“Commodore Pelman, along with his verbal orders gave us documents containing other information - maps, and such like - but there was a letter, a private letter, addressed to myself giving me -” he paused and hesitated a moment as though searching for a proper way to put the matter into words “ giving me alternative orders and some information.”

 

“Can we know what the information was?”

 

Again a pause, an uncertainty, then he nodded as though coming to terms with what he was thinking

 

“I was informed that there were one maybe even more on board the Ainola who also would want the documents, not to better American interests.  I was given the name of one of those men, but the other, or others, I was going to have to find out for myself.”

 

“And these alternative orders - what did they say or imply?”

 

“They said quite categorically that where necessary I was to act on my own initiative for the betterment of American interests.”

 

A ripple of astonishment, a collective gasp and whisper, the Panel put their heads together and whispered, the Admiral looked at Adam attentively

 

“Captain Cartwright - who sent you that letter?”

 

“My superior Officer.” Adam replied, he looked at Pelman “No offence, Commodore,  but superior to yourself.”

 

“May we ask who that Officer would be -” Jackson snapped immediately.

 

“I am not at liberty to divulge such information.” Adam replied quietly and stared straight ahead and sighed.

 

“Captain Cartwright,” Mulholland addressed him now, “you brought the documents safely to the ship, the persons interested in getting hold of them  - did they succeed?  Is that why you were unable to hand them over to the Commodore?”

 

“The person identified for me was a young man who died bravely during the attack on us by Lebedev.   The other was - eventually was revealed.”

 

“And what happened to him?”

 

“He - er - um - he was the doctor on board the Ainola.   He left the ship to take care of some Russian seamen we had taken from the Russian ship.” Adam raised his eyebrows at that point and Mulholland smiled and nodded, before looking down at his papers,

 

“We have heard about the Russian man of war attacking your ship - did you order your guns to fire upon her?”

 

“No.    My ship was vulnerable - the main mast was down, we were holed.  We were sailing under extreme conditions - glaciers one side, the ice floes in the water were breaking up and massing around us.  My men were being injured - had I obeyed the orders of Commodore Pelman we would have been destroyed.   I chose to act on my initiative in order to protect my men and my ship.  We fired at the glacier as Lieutenant O’Brien has already stated.”

 

Mulholland nodded and looked at Pelman  “Have you any further questions regarding this charge, Commodore Pelman?”

 

Pelman shook his head.   A strange silence settled upon the whole assembly and the Admiral looked disconcerted and anxious before he looked at Adam and asked

 

“Captain - these documents - did you see them for yourself?”

 

“Of course.” Adam inclined his head.

 

“I mean - did you read them?”

 

“They were in Cyrillic Russian and I have no knowledge of the language.”

 

“Do you know what they contained?”

 

“Some of it was translated for me - just a list of names.” he stared ahead of him, his lips met together in a straight line.

 

“Anything else?”

 

“I don’t know what the documents contained other than some names - what they do contain is private and confidential and not for the disclosure here.”

 

The Admiral nodded and sighed,

 

“Very well.  So, Captain Cartwright, where are the documents now?”

 

“In the possession of my superior Officer.”  Adam replied, and his voice was very low.

 

Pelman stepped forward with a slight scowl on his face

 

“It seems to me, Captain Cartwright, that this so called Superior Officer of yours comes in very useful for you.   Allowing you to disregard orders, taking from you documents that rightly should have been handed on to me -”

 

Adam said nothing.  He straightened his shoulders, gripped the hilt of his sword, and looked straight ahead.

 

“I don’t believe any such Superior Officer exists, that you received no such letter giving you the authority to countermand my orders.   You, sir, are a -”

 

“That’s enough -” a deep voice from the body of the assembled public silenced the tirade and a man stood up, a very capable and confident man with dark hair, a beard, broad shoulders and piercing eyes.  “That’s quite enough.  Captain Cartwright has told you the truth as he knows it.   I am his superior officer.”  his eyes rested upon every man seated on the panel before coming to rest  upon Commodore Pelman “And I am also yours.”

 

The Admiral rose to his feet, as did the other officers there,

 

“Mr President -” the Admiral began but the other man raised a hand for silence.

 

Heads turned to look at the President as he made his way from the public gallery.  He approached Adam, smiled, and placed one hand on his shoulder and with the other shook his hand,

 

“Well done, Cartwright.” he said in a warm energetic voice, “Well done indeed, sir.”

 

Chapter 114

 

Amid all the furore the arrival of the President had created Commodore Pelman found

himself to be totally sidelined.   People were streaming from their seats down to the floor where the President stood beside Adam, the Admiral and Officers were crowding around and there was a great deal of hand shaking, introductions, congratulations.   As more and more people joined the throng so Pelman was pushed further and further out of the assembly until he found himself a lonely figure standing by the door.

 

He stared in disbelief at the sight before him, his ears rang with the sound of voices.  He may as well not have existed for all any one of them cared.   Disconsolately he turned and made his way out of the hall.  It was unbelievable.  Even as he walked slowly down the corridor to the stairway he could not believe what had happened.  The President of the United States had been sitting only a few yards away and he had not even noticed.  

 

He was half way down the stairs before he realised that the documents were already in the President’s hands.   The shock of the realisation made him pause as it made him feel physically sick.  He grabbed at the banisters to steady himself and slowly descended down the stairs to the foyer, and then out into the sun light.

 

How odd to feel so cold now.   The sun was shining but the suffocating heat that he had been experiencing inside the hall was now replaced by the cool breeze in the grounds of the Admiralty building.  He slowly made his way to where his coach awaited him, and just muttered the word ’Home’.

 

He had to think out a plan of action, and yet he couldn’t get his brain to function .  He could only repeat to himself over and over that the President knew everything, everything.   He was a ruined man who could look to no one for support or help. 

 

As the coach rolled down the drive towards the main road that wound around the city, he passed Henry Eugene in the company of the Marshall and two deputies.  Although Henry was with them it was obviously not a social stroll.  Pelman shrank back in his seat remembering just how much Henry knew about their plans, even right down to O’Flaherty’s murder.

 

The house looked much as it was when he had left it, buoyant with hope and optimistic of great things.   How he had deluded himself.   He hurried up the steps and into the hallway, paused at the sight of Andre Eugene sitting on one of Cassandra’s odd little gilt chairs, with his head resting upon one hand.

 

“Andre, what on earth are you doing here?”

 

“I was waiting for you.”  Andre replied and stood up slowly, wearily, a man lost in a world of which he now appeared to have no understanding   “I wanted to know what had happened at the hearing to day.”

 

“I’ll discuss it with you another time.” Alfred said thickly, and pulled his arm free from Andre’s tight grip upon it, “Leave me alone, Andre, I’ve just about had enough of you and your wretched brother.”

 

“Henry.  Henry was there?”

 

“Oh yes, he was there alright.   Talk about an avenging angel. He certainly knew how to time things well, didn’t he?” 

 

“He’s changed.  I don’t know what happened to him but suddenly he just - changed.” Andre shook his head as though of everything that had happened Henry’s metamorphosis had been the most amazing.

 

“Go home, Andre” Pelman sighed, shaking his head wearily from side to side, “Just go home and leave me alone.”

 

“Home?” Andre gave a shout of a laugh, “Home?” he repeated and stepped back to survey the other man with some contempt, “I’ve no home to return to, Commodore.  A house, that’s all.   Everything my father worked for and that my mother loved, ruined.”

 

“If it is, then you have only yourself to blame.” Pelman replied shortly and put his foot on the bottom step of the stairway.   “Everything you did you did for your own gain, in your own interests.   Don’t blame me for what has happened.”

 

“Jeannette has gone.  Henry -”

 

“Henry’s been arrested.” Pelman paused, yes, that was it, he had said it, and by saying it he was acknowledging the fact that Henry knew of crimes committed by both his brother and himself.   He looked at Andre and narrowed his eyes, “They’ll be after you next.”

 

“Let them come,  I don’t care.” Andre groaned dismissively, “You’ve ruined me, Pelman.   Ruined everything. I trusted you and now I have nothing, not even the good name my father worked so hard to gain.”

 

“That’s your own stupid fault.” Pelman replied and made his way up the stairs, calling for Cassandra, for Jonas.

 

Andre listened to the doors opening and closing, to the sound of Pelman’s voice shouting for his wife and secretary.   He smiled slowly and then began to laugh as he went, step by step, up the stairs to the landing where Pelman was striding to another room.

 

“You haven’t realised yet, have you?”

 

“Out of my way, fool.”  then Pelman stopped, “Realised what?”

 

“They’ve gone.   Gone.”  Andre laughed again, “Cassandra left just as I arrived.  She blew me a kiss as she passed.   As for your secretary - well, I could have told you what a fool you were to trust that weasel.”

 

Pelman’s face drained of colour.  He turned upon his heels and practically ran to his office.  Frantically he pulled out drawers, unlocked cabinets …

 

“I’m ruined.” he whispered.  “Everything   -  gone.”

 

Andre Eugene looked at the man who had orchestrated the ruin of so many.   He felt no pity, no sympathy.   He merely turned and left the room,  walked slowly down the stairs and out into the driveway of a house that represented the biggest fraudster he had ever known.    As he reached the cab waiting for him at the entrance several men marched towards the house.   There was no mistaking who they were or their mission - Commodore Pelman was about to receive a visit that was going to change his entire life course… again.   With a smug feeling of satisfaction Andre Eugene gave the driver the command to drive on.  He sat back and wondered what Jeannette would say if he turned up at her parents house and asked her to return with him, or better still, if he could stay there with her.   Perhaps he could make a fresh start after all.

 

Alfred Pelman heard the sound of feet marching along the corridor towards the stairs.  He watched the door carefully, and when he was opened and he saw an Officer followed by six armed Marines he knew exactly what was going to happen next.

 

“Commodore Pelman?”  the Officer looked at the wretched man,  saluted out of respect for the office Pelman held,  “You are requested to come with me, sir.”

 

“Are you arresting me?”

 

“It would be to your advantage if you did as I requested, sir.”

 

Pelman rose to his feet very slowly.   He looked at the Officer and saw what appeared to him his own death sentence.  His fingers tightened around the handle of the gun in his drawer.  

 

“One moment if I may -” he said hoarsely,  and taking the gun which he concealed he walked to the window and looked down at the immaculately laid out garden.   He had always loved the garden.   He thought of Cassandra and smiled as he put the gun to his head.

 

“Stop -”

 

But he heard nothing.  The explosion of the gun echoed by the crashing of glass but he heard nothing.  His body as it fell from the shattered window landed with a thud upon the green lawn.  The open eyes stared unseeingly at a rose that had been caught in his fall.  He had orchestrated events for long enough, destroyed the lives of too many for too long,  and by his own hand had executed justice upon himself.

 

Chapter 115

 

Alone at last, or rather, together at last.    The three Cartwrights finally closed the door on O’Brien, Morton, Jamieson and young William, looked at one another as though seeing each other for the first time and reacted in their own peculiar ways.

 

Hoss slapped Adam on the back and said how he was so hungry he could eat a horse, Ben shook his son’s hand and poured them all a glass of whisky while Adam gave a soft laugh as he sunk down into a comfortable chair and stretched out his legs.

 

“Well, I’m glad that’s over-” Hoss sighed and sat down warily on a chair that looked very much as though it might just collapse under his weight, “Pa, I’m jest about starving.  Any chance we could git down to some serious eating now?”

 

“Can’t you think of anything else other than your stomach?” Ben laughed, but it was the laughter of a parent relieved at the fact that he could laugh at last, that the fear was over.  He looked at Adam, and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, the glass of whisky in his hands, “How’re you feeling, son?”

 

“Like Hoss, I’m feeling really hungry.” Adam smiled, his brown eyes gleamed, “I guess a man never knows how rich he is until his backs to the wall.  I don’t mean rich with regard to money, but about friends and family, the lengths they’ll go to in order to help when times get hard.”

 

“Do you really think Pelman could have pulled it off there?  He was taking a big risk.” Ben said quietly.

 

“He had his contacts.  He thought he had it all neatly sewn up, I guess otherwise he would have found some other way to shut me up.”

 

“I still can’t get over the lengths he went to -” Ben shook his head, “Murder, kidnapping, blackmail.”

 

“Don’t forget he did all that because of his other crimes - espionage, treason.”  Adam frowned,  “Metcalfe was the key to it all so far as the documents were concerned.  There was the family connection,  remember?  Hiding his name under a pseudonym was clever, because he already knew his name would be on the list, just as Pelman knew his would be.   I don’t know for sure, and I doubt if any of us will ever know, what the rest of the documents were about, or who they concerned, but just the fact that their names were on that list was enough to push them to their limits.”

 

“Shucks, I hate the idea of you going through all what you did for some bits of paper and you don’t even know what they’re about -”

 

“Knowledge is a dangerous thing, Hoss.” Adam said quietly.

 

“Did the President know about Pelman?”  Ben asked.

 

“In the letter he sent me he gave me several names to look out for … and told me not to let Pelman have the documents but to get them to him as soon as possible. I imagine the list would have confirmed his suspicions if he didn’t know for sure already.”

 

“Of all the co-incidences though, that you should decide to visit the Eugenes that evening -” Ben frowned, then sat back, gulped down his drink “I had a letter from Henry Eugene.   He wrote and told me all that had happened.  He wanted me to take the letter to the  authorities if he didn’t manage to get to the Court Martial and tell his story publicly there.   A sad man -” Ben sighed, and looked down at the empty glass, “although I remember him being quite a pleasant child.”

 

“Yes, he was.” Adam nodded, “So it was because he had deserted at Shiloh that Andre and Pelman managed to make him such a pitiful wretch?   I feel sorry for him-”

 

“He was afraid that they would turn him in.   Fear can do terrible things to a man.” Ben said thoughtfully.

 

“Yeah, any minute now and I’m afraid I just might have to take a bite out of one of  you two if’n I don’t git to that restaurant” Hoss complained, rising to his feet and clapping his hand upon Adam’s shoulder, “Adam, it sure it good to see you sitting there in the flesh looking like how I always remember you.  I ain’t got my head around seeing you dressed in that thar  uniform.  Not that you don’t look mighty pretty in it but -” he shook his head with a laugh and walked to the door.

 

Adam smiled at his father, there was so much to say and to talk about, and it felt just wonderful to be dressed in his black shirt and pants again.   He looked at the uniform hanging up from a hook in the other room and wondered if he would ever get to wear it again.

 

……………………

 

Joe read the cablegram that Peggy had delivered and then gave a whoop, grabbed her in his arms and planted a kiss on her pretty face, before releasing her and giving a laugh of sheer relief

 

“It’s over.  It’s alright.  Adam’s coming back home.  Peggy, d’you hear?  Adam’s coming back home and the Court Martial’s all finished with and the President congratulated Adam personally on a job well done.  Don’t you think that’s just wonderful, Peggy?”

 

Peggy nodded, her eyes sparkled and she danced round the table, grabbing hold of Hop Sings hands as he came out to see what ‘foolishment’ they were getting up to now.  He finally managed to free himself and returned to his retreat glowing with pride at Adam’s news, and planning what to cook for the special home coming meal.

 

“Joe,” she picked the cablegram up from the floor and re-read it through, then put it back on the table, “Does this mean we will have to get married now?”

 

“Huh?” Joe looked at her and had the good grace to blush before breaking out into his cackle of a laugh.

 

“Well,  why are you laughing?” she hit him on the shoulder which made him say ‘Ouch’ as though he had been hurt but then led him into laughing again, “You did kiss me you know.  And we were alone.   Miss Scott would say -”

 

“Oh Peggy, Miss Scott who cares -” Joe cried and sunk down into a chair, “I couldn’t give a dash about Miss Scott and what she has to say.   She’s like a lot of other hypocrites in this world, saying one thing and looking so good, but behind everyone’s back doing quite the reverse.”

 

“Don’t be too hard on her, Joe.  She can’t help falling in love with Andrew.”

 

“Oh, you’ve changed your tune suddenly,  Peg”  he sighed and stopped his laughter. It had been the relief, the hilarity of the moment that had made him want to shout and laugh and - had it been possible - dance around the room.

 

“Not really.     I mean, perhaps I have.   I remember how it was with Adam and my mother, maybe only through a child’s eyes, but I know that she thought she loved Adam, and then Will came along.”  she sat down opposite him her hands in her lap toying once again with the ribbon in her bonnet, “I suppose we are all capable of loving different people in different ways, aren’t we?”

 

“I guess so.  Human beings are pretty complex.   We can appeal more to one person than to another, love someone more than another or in a different way.”

 

“Well, that’s what I mean.  She loved Adam, but in a different way to how she loves Andrew.”

 

Joe frowned, tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair in which he was sitting, shrugged

 

“I’m  sorry, Peggy,  but I really don’t want to talk about Barbara Scott and her love life just now.    You don’t know how worried I’ve been about my brother.   I’ve read his letters over the past few days, got caught up in all the things he’s endured, lived his life through what he has written and then being here - “ he smacked his hand hard against the arm of the chair in frustration “being here and alone.   Wondering and worrying about how he was going to get through that Court Martial with so much stacked against him.   Then relief when you brought that cable today -”  he shook his head, “I don’t even want to think about Miss Scott or anyone else come to that.”

 

Peggy nodded and stood up, smiled and put the bonnet back on her head,

 

“Well, that’s alright, Joe.   I’ll go back to town now,  I -”

 

“Go back to town?  But, Peggy, I thought you were going to stay for dinner?”

 

“I would have liked to, Joe, but I think you would prefer to be here on your own.”

 

“No, I don’t.”  he reached out and took her hand in his, “Do stay, Peg’o’my heart?”

 

“Don’t tease me then.” she sniffed

 

“I never tease you.”

 

“Yes, you do.”

 

Joe laughed then, and released her hand.   Then he rose to his feet and limped his way to the front door before he turned to her,

 

“Coming, Peggy?   I want to tell Candy and the others the good news.”

 

…………………..

 

Andre Eugene buckled the strap of his case and set it down beside the other one that was standing beside the bed.   He had gone methodically through his papers and destroyed any that he could find that would incriminate  him, or connect him with Pelman’s schemes.   An unseasonal fire burned in the hearth as papers blackened and curled in the flames, settling down to ash.  

 

He went to the window and closed it down.   Then turned to look at the room.  It would be sad to leave the old house.  He had remembered when it had first been built.  That was when his father had made his first substantial fortune.   Later there was another wing built onto the house to extend it.  Andre smiled sadly, and thought of the bonds he had tucked carefully away in the case along with various garments.

 

“Howard .” he called for his valet who came to pick up the suitcases and without a word carried them down the stairs to the waiting cab.  

 

He had it all planned.   A cab to the depot and then the coach to Richmond.   There would be various stopping off points, of course, but he was not really that far behind Jeannette.  He may even catch up with her on the way.

 

He was in the drawing room when he heard the door opening into the hallway.   Footsteps approached the room and he froze, attempted to identify the visitor and then realised that he was more or less alone now in the house.  He turned as the door opened and then relaxed,

 

“Jonas - it’s you.”

 

“Good day, Mr Eugene.  I came to tell you the news.”

 

“The news?”

 

“Yes, sir, Commodore Pelman died half an hour ago.”

 

“Pelman?  Dead?”  Andre frowned, and shook his head, “How can he be dead.  I was talking to him only a short while ago.”

 

“I know.  That’s why I thought you should know that he is now dead.”

 

“But how?”

 

“He committed suicide.  Rather messy I’m afraid.”   Jonas shrugged his shoulders and then looked around the room, “I suppose you’ll be leaving too, sir.”

 

“I’m going to join my wife.” Andre replied and made sure he didn’t mention exactly where he was meeting her, he had his doubts about the wretched man.   Hadn’t he told Pelman exactly that just a short while ago?

 

“I’ve come into some money lately,” Jonas said as he entered further into the room, “and if you have no need for this property I wouldn’t mind taking it off your hands.”

 

“Taking it off my hands?”  Eugene stepped back aghast at the idea.  He shook his head, and then looked once again around the room.  “No, I don’t think so -” he said quietly.

 

“I don’t really think you have any grounds for not letting me have it.  I’ll pay what I think is a reasonable price.  Then you can go wherever you wish without having to worry about anything anymore.  You won’t have to come back here where everyone will know you, and your business.”  he ran a finger across the dark wood of  the mahogany bureau, and smiled, “A pity about Mr Henry Eugene.  When he starts to tell people about the family history, and what they did in connection with Commodore Pelman and his schemes to get rid of the Grant administration - my oh my - and the things I could add to that, Mr Eugene.   You have no idea of just how much I know about you and your family.”

 

Andre opened and closed his mouth,  he looked haplessly at this man who was smiling at him so benevolently, with his watchful wary eyes glittering upon him.  He shook his head

 

“I’m in a hurry.  It will take time to draw up a Contract -”

 

“Mr Eugene, I have all the time in the world.   Shall we just leave it for you to contact the lawyer when you get to - Richmond, wasn’t it?”

 

 

Chapter 116

 

Marshall Duggan stood back several paces to allow his deputies to haul the body from the harbour waters.   As he glanced across the harbour at the ships that were berthed in the natural bay,  he thought over the circumstances of the previous few days.   Amazing, he mused, how the most unlikely people could be guilty of the most heinous crimes.  He scratched his chin through his stubble and looked along the shoreline where they now stood.   Several bodies had been retrieved over the past twenty four hours.  The bodies of the seamen that had been unaccounted for from the fire on the Ainola had been located and taken to the morgue earlier during the day but this one - he turned to look over at the repellent corpse being dragged along the shingle away from the waters - this one was certainly no seaman.

 

He walked closer now and looked down at the body as his deputies straightened their backs and wiped their hands down the backs of their pants.  Usually there were the dredger men who dealt with things like corpses and such, but it just happened that one of the deputies had noticed it while they were riding pass the sea front.  It had risen to the surface and looked like some grotesque sack of rubbish, so out of curiosity they had come to deal with it themselves.

 

Duggan leaned down to look at the body more closely and then told one of the deputies to look in his pockets for identification,

 

“Do I have to, can’t Hank do that?”

 

“Just do it -”

 

Very gingerly the deputy peeled back the slime covered jacket and felt in the pockets, eventually pulling out a leather pocket book with a letter in it.   Duggan took it between finger and thumb, grimaced and looked at the address on the envelope.  There was no money found, no personal item like watch or cuff links, his feet were bare so prompting the thought that he had worn good quality shoes and whoever had tipped him into the harbour had decided a corpse would not be walking in future.  Yet the letter had been left.   He frowned and shook his head

 

“Anything wrong, Marshall?”  Hank asked and moving so that he was out of the way of the wind which was blowing the stench of rotting flesh his way.

 

“Just a co-incidence.”  he looked at the two men and shook his head again, “Odd how things happen.  Didn’t we have a woman by the name of O’Flaherty reported as killed hereabouts?”

 

“S’right,” Hank nodded, he remembered taking down the woman’s details, “Her husband was seen committing the act on the steps of the Catholic church.”

 

Duggan nodded and once again scratched his chin

 

“I remember calling on the house to question him.  He was absent from home.”  he looked down at the body, “Well, at least we know now the reason why.”

 

“Someone obviously didn’t like our Mr O’Flaherty.” Hank muttered and just nudged him a little with the toe of his boot.   O’Flaherty’s body moved with flaccid lethargy, and oozed the slime and grit with the water that was dripping from him.

 

“Right, get him down to the morgue.  I think it’s time I had another chat with Mr Andre Eugene.”

 

He walked away from the dead man and his deputies and considered the way things turned out at times.  There was Henry Eugene in a cell in his jail house, complete with a briefcase stuffed with papers that would take a month of Sundays to sort out and make any sense of,  talking about matters that involved that Commodore Pelman who had committed suicide only a short time earlier that day.    Now this body - he shuddered, he hadn’t liked the sight of that body one bit - found not that long after he had been reported being seen causing his wife’s death .  Even more interestingly was the fact that  had he been employed but by Henry Eugene’s brother, Andre.

 

He mounted his horse and turned its head in the direction of the Eugene mansion.  It was time for a little talk with Mr Andre.

 

………………………

 

Daniel O’Brien passed over a glass of beer to his cousin and then sat down after he had placed his own glass down on the table.  He looked around the tavern and then picked up his glass and took a long draught from it, before he looked again at Jotham

 

“So what do you intend to do now, Jotham, considering that Captain Jenkins sailed off without you to Amsterdam?”

 

“I’m thinking of giving up the sea, Daniel.” Jotham doodled a pattern in the spilt beer on the table, and pouted slightly, “I quite enjoyed my time in Genoa, being a landlubber and such.  I think I could learn to ride a horse pretty well, and get to enjoy life in a town out in Nevada Territory.  What about yourself?  Any plans?”

 

Daniel leaned back against the wall and sighed, he drank some more beer and stared at the far wall,

 

“I have a wife in Paris.” he said quietly, “I’ve no ship, no Captain -” he sighed, “I could go and get myself signed up for another trip, I know several ships that need Officers but -”

 

“It’s too soon, isn’t it?”  Jotham looked at his cousin and raised his eyebrows, “You went through a lot on that last assignment, Dan.  You need to take a spot of shore leave and go find that wife of yours.   You may even like Paris enough to stay -” and he winked, chuckled and raised his glass to his lips.

 

“I need to go and see Maria,” Daniel nodded, “I don’t think I could give up the sea though, Jotham, even if I have to serve under Captains not so - well - not like Captain Cartwright -”

 

“Did someone mention Captain Cartwright?” a familiar voice said from the murky gloom further back in the tavern and a tall broad figure appeared striding towards them.  “Lieutenant O’Brien!”

 

“Sergeant Day - Duke -”  O’Brien jumped to his feet, nearly upsetting the table as he did so, “I thought - we thought - that you had been killed in the fire.”

 

“I managed to swim clear, but just when I was about to reach the pier a boat came by and hauled me out.   Then I was ill for a while and only today managed to get up and about.  The folk here in this tavern have been kindness itself to me, and I thought I would go tomorrow and find the Captain and yourself -”

 

“So you haven’t heard about what has happened? Sit down, Duke, let me buy you a drink -”  Daniel pushed the man onto a seat next to Jotham whom he introduced to the sergeant of Marines, and then ordered a large tot of rum for him, before resuming his seat.

 

Duke listened attentively to all that Daniel had to tell him, and shook his head several times before declaring that had he known anything about it he could have told the Officers at the court a little more about that fire ship.  However, as it was …

 

“Duke, you saved my life -” Daniel said, and he extended his hand to the other man which was gripped very firmly indeed, “I never thought I would get the chance to thank you.”

 

“Well, sir, they do say that the good Lord looks after fools and sailors -  I never thought I would live to see the day when we would be sitting here together like this.  What do you reckon on doing now, sir, if you don’t mind my asking?”

 

“Collecting my pay and going to France.”

 

“Oh yes, of course -” Duke smiled and nodded, “I remember what a pretty little wife you have and I wish you every joy.   As for myself, once I’ve got my self sorted out I’ll see what employment there is here for a man of my experience.   Pity it was about Gibbs, wasn’t it, sir?”

 

They drank and recalled old friends, looked to the time when they would make new ones,  and parted company only when the tavern keeper  rang the bell signalling the tavern was closing.

 

………………………..

 

There was no answer to the Marshall’s knocking on the door.  The house was empty and silent.   He looked up at the windows and made his way to the tradesmen’s entrance only to find everything locked up.   Duggan checked the stables but only the horses looked back at him with curiosity and surprise in their dark luminous eyes. Everywhere he looked gave no evidence of human life.    He remounted his horse and slowly left the house, turning in the saddle to look back at it for a second or two before he turned into the main road.   He resolved that he would return the following day and if Andre Eugene were there, then they would have to have a long talk about Mr O’Flaherty, and a whole host of other interesting things.

 

 ……………………………

 

A surprising day, a tumultuous day, was drawing to its end.   As Adam eased his shirt off he looked once again at the uniform hanging in the wardrobe space and wondered what he would have to do should another ship be offered to him.   He was about to remove his pants when he became aware of his father standing at the door, so he turned, smiled

 

“Alright, Pa?”

 

“I am, son.”  Ben entered the room and looked at Adam thoughtfully, looked at the marbled effect upon his son’s flesh where the bruising extended beyond the bandages, he sighed, “Adam, listening to all that had happened during that court martial today and knowing what else you have gone through during the past few weeks, made me wonder what you will do if you stay at sea.  Do you intend to get another commission or will you resign and come back with us?”

 

Adam frowned and pursed his lips,

 

“I was thinking the same thing myself, Pa.   I resigned before remember?   I came home to settle down, get married, live my life out as a regular rancher on the Ponderosa but -”  he paused, his mouth formed a habitual pout, and he shook his head, “it seems what one wants and what one gets are two different things, especially when a President can revoke any decision one makes.”

 

“As he did  -” Ben intoned, again with a sigh, “I wish you had been able to settle down with Barbara, Adam, she was - is - a nice woman and would have been a good wife for you.”

 

“She’ll be a good wife to whomever she marries.  She was sensible, Pa, she must have known deep down that I would have made her a terrible husband”  and Adam turned away, and slipped out of his pants, tossed them to one side with his shirt, “I wonder what tomorrow will bring.   I think O’Brien intends to go to France to be with his wife.”

 

“Yes.  So he said -” Ben placed a hand on his son’s arm and then quickly left the room, turned at the doorway and smiled, “Good night,  sleep well, son.”

 

 

Chapter 117

 

The knocking on the door of the hotel room summoned the Cartwright’s from their beds.  Hoss was first to reach the door and open it, yawning, scratching his head, he looked blearily at the man in the gray uniform who stood patiently in the hallway.

 

“Who are you?” he muttered, and yawned “This is a pretty early hour to visit, ain’t it?”

 

“Marshall Duggan.”  the officer nodded and stepped forward, “I need to speak to Captain Adam Cartwright.”

 

“In that case you had best come on in.”  Hoss rubbed his face with one hand and closed the door with the other. 

 

Ben and Adam were emerging from their rooms, Ben still looking heavy eyed and in need of some sleep and Adam already dressed being so used to waking early and so unused to soft downy beds that he couldn’t sleep comfortably anyway.   They both looked rather anxiously at the Marshall, who observed them both thoughtfully, before asking Adam if he had time to discuss ’some matters.’

 

“Here and now?” Adam asked, “Or at your station?”

 

“Well, it doesn’t look as if any of you have eaten yet, so if I could just go over a few things here and perhaps you could call in later at the station … it’s the Harbour Station at Pacific and Davis.”   Duggan turned to Hoss who was about to disappear back into his room to get more decently attired, “You’re Mr Hoss Cartwright, aren’t you?  Reported the death by assault on a young woman called Kate O’Flaherty?”

 

“Yeah  - anything wrong?” Hoss squinted his eyes and glanced from Duggan to Adam, “Have you got the guy who did it?”

 

“Yes, in a fashion -” Duggan nodded, “We fished his body out of the harbour late last night.”

 

“Oh, dead then?” Hoss raised his eyebrows, and glanced over at Ben who was standing close between his sons.

 

“Couldn’t have been more so, Mr Cartwright.”  Duggan nodded, “Thanks to Mr Henry Eugene we know that Pelman, and a man called Jonas Thaler, orchestrated O’Flaherty’s death.  Apparently he was what they termed to be the weak link.  Sadly for them they were looking in the wrong direction for the weak link - it was right under their noses alright, but it wasn’t necessarily O’Flaherty.”

 

“You mean, it was Henry?” Ben said quietly recalling to mind the quiet startled man in the study who had stammered and been so nervous when they had met just those few days ago.

 

“Yes, I’m pleased to say that Henry Eugene is spilling out more information that we can handle.  Some men from the diplomatic services are now involved which rather relieves me of some paper work.” he sighed and looked at Adam “You may or may not have heard that Commodore Pelman is dead?”

 

“We hadn’t heard.” Adam said in a rather flat monotone voice, his eyes glanced to his father who raised his eyebrows, “Suicide?”

 

“Yes - how did you know?”

 

“A bully and a coward -” Ben stepped closer to Adam, as though in support of anything his son had to say, “Men of Pelman’s sort never like to have to face up to the responsibility of their actions.  They’ll always choose the quick route out of trouble.”

 

Adam nodded, and gestured to a chair into which Duggan lowered himself,

 

“What can we do for you, Marshall?   I can’t imagine you’ve just come as an errand boy to give us information about Pelman.”

 

“No,  that was just by the way -” Duggan replied, “I wanted to ask you about Jonas Thayer and Andre Eugene.   I’ve heard a lot about them from Henry Eugene, but I can’t locate them anywhere in the city.    I’ve telegraphed the other districts of the city, and put their police forces on alert for them, but no one seems to know where they are.”

 

“Why come to me?”

 

“Clutching at straws perhaps -” Duggan frowned, “I don’t like loose ends.  I want this mess all tidied up soon as possible, but -” he shrugged.

 

“Andre Eugene could be going to Richmond with his wife -” Adam suggested, not knowing that Jeannette had already left her husband earlier that day.

 

“No.  Mrs Eugene left her husband alone.   Mr Henry Eugene swears that she was a non participant in much of what was going on,  her husband treated her as if she had not the brains of a louse.”

 

“Perhaps he has gone to join her in Richmond.” Ben now theorised but Duggan shook his head,

 

“No,  no one of his description has arrived at any of the depots to purchase tickets to Richmond.  Mrs Eugene  - yes, we got her identified easily enough.  But not Eugene.   This man, Jonas Thaler - any idea where he could have disappeared to?   He was Pelman’s secretary and from the state of the office, I should say he pretty well cleared Pelman out of everything.”

 

“Isn’t it possible that Pelman’s wife hadn’t done that?”

 

“Mrs Pelman?”  Duggan looked thoughtful.  He was a big man, honest faced, blue eyed and with the broad features of many descended from Irish parentage.  He cleared his throat, “Well,  we can’t find her either.   Her maid confirms that Mrs Pelman took her jewellery and left sometime before the Commodore arrived home.”

 

Adam leaned forward in his chair, and inclined his head

 

“It might be worth putting more effort into finding Cassandra Pelman.  I reckon that you could find Andre Eugene and her travelling the same route - possibly together.”

 

“Oh - like that, was it?”  Duggan nodded “We’ll bear that in mind.   Now, this man Thaler?”

 

Adam instinctively rubbed his injured hand, remembering only too well how Thaler had stamped so hard down upon it, although more than anything else he could remember the enjoyment Thaler had shown at the pain he had caused.  He stared thoughtfully at Duggan and slowly shook his head,

 

“I don’t know what to suggest about Thaler.  One thing to bear in mind - whatever was going on with Pelman, Thaler would have been involved for only one reason, and that was to benefit himself.   Thaler wasn’t interested in any politics, or grand ambitions Pelman may have had, he was solely interested in himself.   When you said he had cleared Pelman out - what exactly did you mean?”

 

“Well, Henry Eugene had already taken as many papers and documents as he knew would ruin Pelman anyway, but what Thaler took were Government bonds, money - some private documents that Henry may not have known about but a private secretary would have - .”

 

“Well, in that case I can’t help you any more than that -” Adam said quietly and watched as Duggan eased himself out of the chair and rose to his feet.

 

They shook hands and Duggan left the suite, leaving the three men looking at the door and then each other with an air of bemusement on their faces.

 

“I’d like to wring that Jonas Thayer’s neck -” Hoss observed thoughtfully,  then he grinned, “Reckon we could squeeze Roy into one of those gray uniforms?”

 

“I doubt it.” Ben laughed, “I doubt it very much.” but the laughter faded as he turned to regard his eldest son, who sat looking thoughtfully into the air, he sat down on the chair just vacated from the Marshall, “What’s on your mind?”

 

“I was thinking of Andre and Henry Eugene, and how easily they got caught up on Pelmans’ schemes.”

 

“And Thaler?    Did he take part in what happened to you?” and he placed a gentle hand on Adam’s

 

“He took some pleasure in grinding his heel into my hand -” Adam sighed, “It seems a long time ago.”  he forced a smile to his lips and stood up, “I think we should go and get something to eat and arrange to get home.”

 

Ben smiled, his dark eyes gleamed with a pride that spoke of his love for his sons.  This man who once would hold so tightly to his hand when a child, still held as tightly to his father’s heart.

…………………

 

“This came for you, Captain.”

 

Adam took the envelope and cleared his throat, placed some coins in the bell boys hand and stepped back into the hotel suite. 

 

“What is it, Adam?  Bad news?”  Hoss asked, paused in the middle of pulling on his jacket.

 

“A letter -” Adam replied staring down at the embossed seal, he scratched the back of his neck and then turned to wards them, his father and his brother, “from the President.”

 

“What does it say?” Ben asked, “Don’t you think you should open it and find out?”

 

Adam unsealed the envelope and pulled out the letter, stared at the writing and then slipped it back before putting it carefully into his jacket pocket.   Ben came and stood by his side,

 

“Well?  What is it?”

 

“He just wants us to go and visit him later this morning.  He’ll be leaving for his European tour and wants to see us before he leaves.”

 

“Well, that’s alright then, ain’t it?” Hoss asked quietly and reached for his hat.

 

“Yes, I suppose so.” Adam replied and inhaled deeply, a long breath to fill his lungs and to try and be rid of the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong with his plans  - again.

 

…………….

 

Andre Eugene paced the floor of the stagecoach depot.   He pulled out the watch from his jacket and looked down at the time.   He watched as though mesmorised as the hands ticked away the seconds, and then looked anxiously at the faces of the people there, all waiting for something, someone.  

 

He rubbed his chin, chewed his bottom lip and looked at the clock in the depot office.  Once again he looked at the faces of the people there, and they, in turn, looked at him and wondered why he was looking so ill.   His heart was pounding.  He could fill it throbbing in his ear drums.   There was a dull pain in his left temple.   He sat down upon the bench, and the woman who had been sitting at the other end rose to her feet, the natural instinct to remove herself from anything that could be embarrassing or awkward paramount to anything else at that moment.

 

He saw someone approaching him, a woman wearing a dove grey skirt and jacket, and a bright welcoming smile.  He smiled back and tried to rise to his feet.   The woman walked on and he turned his head and watched as she slipped into the arms of a man who was standing near by.  The smile was not for him after all, and the woman was not the one for whom he was waiting.

 

He put his hand into his pocket to draw out his watch, but for some reason his hand would function, the fingers were like putty and clumsily groped for  something that he now had forgotten.  His mouth had slipped to one side, and his vision was blurred.

 

His brain told him something was wrong, seriously wrong.  He had to get to his feet and walk away.  If he walked away now then perhaps he could walk away from the problem and everything would be alright again.   Except he couldn’t get his feet to move.   He could feel a shuffling sensation as his feet struggled to gain a foot hold on the ground.   He felt something heavy land on his shoulder and looked up into a face that he did not recognise.   A man in a gray suit.   Not a suit, his brain told him, a uniform.  Yes, a uniform.

 

He tried to speak, his name was Andre Eugene, he was a wealthy man here in the city, he owned so much - so much.  

 

A woman came and leaned forward to look at him,  and then  asked the Marshall if the man was alright, concerned by the appearance of the man on the bench seat who had now slumped forward like an awkward lump of clay moulded all the wrong shape.

 

 “I think he’s dying” the policeman said quietly and felt for the pulse at the man’s throat,  “If  you can find a doctor, Miss?”

 

Cassandra Pelman nodded and hurried out of the depot.   In her bag she had her jewels, plenty of money, sufficient for her needs.   The delay in arriving at the depot earlier had been due to a visit to the Bank to make various alterations to her accounts.   Now she walked briskly from the depot and hailed a cab, directing the driver to the home of an old friend of hers, someone reliable and who could be counted upon and far less likely to die on a bench in a public place like the man who  had been patiently and anxiously waiting for her arrival that morning.

 

………………….

 

Joseph Cartwright regarded Paul Martin with some anxiety.   There was no doubt about it, Paul Martin was getting old.  It occurred to Joe that most people he knew were getting really old now.  Roy should have retired years ago, surely?  Now here was Paul solemnly testing Joe’s reflexes and here was Joe with a good view of the silver hair that clung tenaciously to a balding scalp.  Not the prettiest of sights.  Joe remembered times when Paul had had a full head of hair, and being reminded of the passing of time just didn’t suit Joe’s mood one bit.  He sighed heavily,

 

“Patience is a virtue, Joseph.” Paul intoned.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Well,” Paul straightened himself up and smiled, “You’re doing remarkably well, Joseph.  You should be well pleased with yourself.” he put his instruments in his bag and snapped it shut, “you must be getting bored being here all the time, every day, all day.”

 

“Yes, sir, pretty much so.”

 

“Then why not take out a buggy and enjoy the day.  I believe young Miss Dayton visits you pretty often, why not take her some where pleasant?”

 

“Dr Martin, are you match making?”

 

“Certainly not.”  Paul chuckled, “Just that I don’t think a young man like yourself would enjoy your first day of relative freedom on his own.”

 

“Well, you wouldn’t be far wrong at that -” Joe laughed and limped towards the door, which he pulled open for the doctor.

 

He watched Paul walk towards the buggy.  Odd how quickly time passes, he thought.  Days trickle by and suddenly for no reason at all  one realises that something has changed - not just within oneself, but all around and wherever one looked.  Signs of change.   People must look at him and remember when he was a boy  in a check shirt and dungarees trailing behind his brothers in Eagle Station, then suddenly he was Little Joe always falling in love and getting into scrapes - now he was Joseph Cartwright, the youngest son of Ben Cartwright of the Ponderosa.   Time didn’t stand still, but perhaps he had …

 

…………………….

 

Barbara Scott pulled on her gloves and tied the ribbon under her chin of the best bonnet she possessed.  In two days time she would be married.  Mrs Andrew Pearson.   She smiled to herself in the mirror as she heard the door open and the scuffle of little feet on the floor, she turned as Lilith ran towards her with a bunch of wilted flowers in her hand.   Behind her Andrew strolled into the room, took off his hat and looked at her.   

 

“Hello, Barbara.” he smiled, his eyes looked at her with that warm look that told her he cherished her, desired her, loved her.

 

“Hello, my love.” she said and turned towards him with the little girl clinging tightly to her hand.

 

Chapter 118

 

Joseph Cartwright reclined full stretch upon the green grass and closed his eyes.  He could smell the earth, the grass and the fresh warm breeze that drifted from the lake.    This was just one place of the many locations on the Ponderosa he particularly loved to visit on days like this - sun and the gentle kiss of warmth upon his face, good in the hamper that Hop Sing had prepared for them to eat, a pretty girl near by.  He allowed a smile to drift over his lips as he thought of the many hours he had spent like this, and he took in a deep breath of the air , the perfumes, and slowly released it. 

 

Peggy sat and read from the book of poems that she had taken from the book case.   Romantic poetry, dreamy and perfect for such a day as this one.  How pleased she had been when Joe had suggested they go for a picnic instead of having to sit on the porch or in the house.   She had sat by his side in the buggy and looked over the beautiful views as they jogged along, his elbow jostling against her, and his thigh just close enough to hers.  

 

Had Adam brought her mother on rides such as this, she pondered every so often.  Had he pointed out a particular view, a favourite vista;  had they shared laughter as they thought of the time ahead, of pleasure and fun?   Had he held her hand, kissed her? 

 

Even now as she read the poetry to a man who really had little interest in it, she thought of Adam and her mother.  She could remember an evening when she had looked out of the bedroom window and looked down upon them as they had strolled in the garden.  Laura had sat on the swing, they were talking  and bit by bit their heads had grown closer and closer until their lips had met in a long tender kiss.  Peggy stopped reading,  even now the memory of that kiss made her feel guilty.  The moon had been shining so brightly, the couple had been silhouetted so perfectly and that kiss had been so gently shared between them.   He had held Laura’s hand and then  he had turned away,    the spell was broken, minutes later Laura was still on the swing, listening to the sound of a horse galloping quickly away and up in the bedroom Peggy had ran into her bed and covered her head with the sheet.

 

She put the book down on the grass and stared out at the lake.   How perfectly it reflected the sky, so blue, so smooth, just like a mirror.   She sat there in her pink gingham dress with the little pink bodice and the pink ribbon tying back her blonde hair and thought of all that had happened in her short life.    She had known some wonderful people, had suffered her losses, had loved a little, hurt a little, but never so much as to become bitter and angry.   She looked down at Joseph Cartwright and smiled as she thought how handsome he looked.  Was he asleep?    She leaned over and looked more closely at him.   She could remember him when she had been a little girl.   He would swing her high on the swing and laugh when she had squealed until it was so high she was afraid she would fall and then she would cry ‘I’m falling, I’m falling’ and he was right there in front of her, his arms wide open to catch her, and still laughing.   She realised that he didn’t laugh so much nowadays and on impulse she leaned down and kissed his lips.

 

Whether he had been in a light doze or not, Joe sprang awake, grabbed her wrist, sought her lips and then pushed her away,

 

“Don’t do that again -” he cried, releasing her wrist upon seeing the frightened look on her face.   He took a deep breath, steadied his voice to a calm rationale, and then grabbed at her shoulders, “Peggy, don’t ever do that again.”

 

“But I -”

 

“Aren’t you listening to me, Peggy?    Don’t you realise what could have happened?”

 

“What do you mean?” she looked angry now,  and shrunk back from him, “I only kissed you because you were asleep and -”

 

“Peggy,” he shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair which only made him look younger and even more handsome, “Peggy, you can’t go around kissing men just because you feel like it’s an appropriate opportunity.   I mean - for Pete’s sake -”

 

“Oh Joe, it was only a little kiss -” Peggy scowled, although her heart was hammering against her ribs because she knew it was not ‘just a little kiss’, not to her anyway. “Now you’re going all red in the face and angry.”

 

“You’re not listening to me, are you?”

 

“Yes, I am.” she said primly with her hands folded neatly in her lap,  “And if I had been some other lady you had brought here I doubt very much that you would be telling her off like you are scolding me.”  she blinked her eyes and she jumped up onto her feet, “I think I’d like to go home now.”

 

“Very well, Miss Dayton.”  Joe got to his feet and began to collect the things that had been part of such a pleasant few hours previously, he glanced up at her, “I’m only telling you for your own good, Peggy.”

 

“I don’t care -” she picked up the book and hugged it to her chest, “If it had been Adam I’d kissed -”

 

“Oh great, well, Miss Dayton,  let me tell you that had it been Adam here, instead of me, you would have got more than a telling off.” he shook his head and began to stride up to the buggy with the basket and blanket in his arms, “Peggy, do you make it a practise to kiss men like that?”

 

“Of course not, what kind of woman do you think I am ?” she protested.

 

Joe’s face softened as he looked at her, the angry eyes, the stubborn nose, the pretty mouth.  If she only realised how much like her mother she looked right there and then.  He shook his head,

 

“The thing is, Peggy, you aren’t a woman, you’re a - a changeling child.” he paused, and smiled slowly, caught a drift of blonde hair between his fingers and twisted it round and round “You’re at that stage in your life that’s special, Peggy, not yet a woman, stepping away from being a girl -”

 

“Oh, go away, Joe -” she pushed his hand from her and hurried to the other side of the buggy  “I want to go home.”

 

He strapped down the hamper in the trunk of the buggy and made his way to the seat, took the reins and flicked them so that the horse moved away from the picnic area and turned towards the track leading to town.   He chewed on his bottom lip and stared straight ahead while she struggled to keep the tears from falling and held tightly to her book of poems.

 

“I don’t think you Cartwright men know how to love” she said suddenly.

 

“Thank you.” he replied stiffly and flicked the reins to make the horses move faster, anything to get the trip to town over with as soon as possible. “What makes you say that apart from being so angry with me?”

 

“I think all you love is the Ponderosa, you and your brothers and Pa.  You love that place so much that you haven’t room for anything or anyone else.”

 

“Now you’re talking nonsense.”  he said tersely, and willed the horses to a faster speed.

 

“Well, that’s what I think.”  she looked at him, “All I did was give you a little kiss because you were asleep.  Like Prince Charming kissed the sleeping beauty -”

 

“Oh good grief!”  Joe groaned and shook his head, “Peggy,  we were alone there - don’t you get the point of what I’ve been telling you?”

 

“I wouldn’t have kissed anyone else, Joe.” she replied sharply, “I know you’d never hurt me.”

 

“No, I wouldn’t ever hurt you, Peggy, but a man has feelings -” he frowned, “It wasn’t fair.”

 

She didn’t reply to that because she didn’t rightly understand what he was saying, but it went some way to soothe her ruffled feelings.   She sighed and watched the horses as they galloped their way to town.

 

“Joe, may I ask you something?”

 

“Go ahead.”  his hands gripped the reins more tightly and he waited anxiously for whatever it was that she was going to say.  Knowing Peggy, it could have been anything !

 

“Barbara told me that you married an Indian girl once, is that right?”

 

“Her name was Little Moon.”  he said quietly.  Little Moon - it seemed such a long time since he had said that word, and yet she was always there in his mind, his memory and thoughts.

 

“Oh, I see.”  she nodded but didn’t really see at all.  “Was she pretty?”

 

“I thought she was beautiful.”  and Joe’s face relaxed into a smile of fond memory, seeing her again as she walked through the tall grasses of her homeland, the beaded fringes on her doeskin skirt swaying against her legs and the black hair shimmering down her back, “She was beautiful” he repeated in a sigh.

 

“And you still love her?”

 

He didn’t reply to that, of course he still loved her.   He stared ahead of him at the track that meandered the way to town.   Peggy sat very quiet and still.   She sensed that somehow things had changed between them, and that the old familiarity they had shared together had gone, perhaps for good.

 

………………………………..

 

The President of the United States rose from his chair to greet the three men as they entered the room.    He was smoking, as usual, his cigar, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled a welcome to them.   He approached them and shook each one of them by the hand.

 

Ulysses Simpson Grant was to serve two terms in office as President of the United States.  He was a charismatic figure but his administration would be renowned for its corruption.  Perhaps that was why, now, he looked at Adam Cartwright and his family as symbols of honesty and integrity.  He looked at each one of them very keenly as he waved them towards the chairs that were set out for them.

 

“I just wanted to thank you personally for all that you have done for me, for our country.” he said simply, and stubbed out the cigar ruthlessly in the ash tray.   It was a simple act yet reminded all three of them, somehow, that this affable man had been a ruthless and inspired General during the Civil War.  

 

Not one of them was sure of what to say to that, Hoss nodded and smiled while Adam raised his eyebrows in anticipation of something more to come, while Ben bit his bottom lip and considered just how grateful the man really was, but it was left to Ben to reply

 

“Speaking for Hoss and myself, we did very little, sir.   I think, looking back on it, that rather than speak of co-incidences we should acknowledge that perhaps some other hand was guiding events.”  he concluded with one of his smiles that made the dark eyes gleam.

 

“ I agree with you entirely, Ben.”  Grant nodded, “I still like to thank the human element behind events however.  Adam - Captain Cartwright - I know that you suffered a great deal during this assignment.  I doubt very much if you would want to take on another just now, am I right?”

 

“Some shore leave would be very much appreciated, sir.” Adam smiled slowly, although his eyes narrowed as he wondered what the old fox was up to now.

 

“Yes, I’m sure it would be, and with your family back there on your Ponderosa.”  Grant’s eyes looked at each one of them again, very intently, as though he were searching right into their innermost hearts, “Some people fail to appreciate the importance of experience, which, as we know, comes with age.” he smiled at Ben who raised an eyebrow, “and some people think that only the young and fit should be engaged in the kind of situations that you have found yourself in lately, Captain Cartwright.    But young men can be impetuous, inexperienced and over eager whereas a man like yourself has already harnessed such things and honed them to the state upon which I can trust them with heavy burdens of state.

 

“Now, I know that you must all have thought it unfair of me to revoke your resignation for this assignment, Captain Cartwright, and I know that you must be thinking that if you tender your resignation now, I can just as easily revoke it again.    Isn’t that so?”

 

“That’s so,” Adam replied,  leaning back in his chair as though to give himself more room to breathe for he felt that the atmosphere was becoming quite claustrophobic.

 

Grant nodded and looked at Adam again as though having stripped off another layer from him, he was somehow different

 

“And you would prefer chasing cows to taking my ships across the sea again?”

 

Adam swallowed the lump in his throat.  He saw in his minds eye the vision of the Ainola as she sailed through that black sea with the ice white floes shimmering in the silver moon light, glowing like some magnificent sugar iced toy as the snow and ice had fallen upon her.  He bit his bottom lip and said nothing.   Hoss,  panic stirring in his breast, felt a trifle sick.

 

“Let me tell you a story -” Grant smiled slowly, “I met a Polish man recently and asked him how he was getting on here in America. ‘Vell,’ he replied after thinking some moments ‘It’s very strange thing, here I ‘ave been in America for twenty year and alvays I am that Pole, never am I that American.   Last year I visit family in Poland and vot happen ‘Look at Vacek from America’ they say.   Now in Poland I am no longer Polish and in America I am not American’”     Grant rose to his feet, “Enjoy your shore leave, Captain.  I hope it will be a long and happy one.” he extended his hand to Adam and shook the younger man’s hand heartily, “But I want you to promise me, that should I need you - you will come to my assistance?”

 

Adam nodded but refrained from smiling,  he could feel the tension in his father and brother,  and he felt uncertain now as to what his own future really held.   Grant returned to his seat and sat down

 

“Henry Eugene -” his manner now was efficient, the bon homie attitude was gone, a thing of the moment,  he frowned, “He deserted the Confederate cause, you know that?   He was fearless in the witness stand, quite honest in what he declared despite the fate he had known he would face -.   I have decided to grant him Amnesty.  His home and property will be returned to him.   His brother, Andre, will be arrested and tried for treason along with the other perpetuators of this incident.” he looked thoughtfully at them and then smiled, “I thought that would win your approval, Ben?”

 

“It does, sir.  The poor man suffered more during the past few years with his family than he would have done had he languished in prison.”

 

“I thought so also.”   again the charismatic smile, the bright eyes twinkled.  He nodded and stood up, and walked away.  A door closed behind him.  The audience was now concluded.

Chapter 119

 

Jonas Thaler watched the big house as Henry’s carriage deposited him at the front door.    News travels fast on the grapevine with all the contacts that Jonas was privy to in San Francisco.    He knew about the amnesty for Henry at approximately the same time as the man had, and as a result he realised that the hope of acquisitioning the house was no longer a reality.    News of Andre Eugene’s death came from a more congenial source,

 

“Thaler - I never expected to see you again.   What are you doing here?”  Cassandra Pelman stood at the entrance of the room at  her friends home and surveyed the guest suspiciously. 

 

She had no reason to suspect this to be a mere social visit.   In all the years she had known Jonas Thaler he had been like the eel that disturbs the silt and mud that lay at the bottom of the harbour, or a spider waiting for the tremble upon his web.  In many ways he had been the one to mastermind the schemes that Pelman had set in motion, his whispering suggestions, little innuendo’s had all pushed the Commodore to reach out further and further to grab what was not his by any right, but attained by stealth and deviousness.

 

Thaler raised his eyebrows, sighed and shook his head,

 

“Cassandra -”

 

“Cassandra?” she raised her head proudly, an imperious gesture of contempt for the man who stood staring at her with his narrow cold eyes, “Don’t you dare to say my name.    How dare you -”

 

“Don’t pull the bell rope for any one to throw me out of this house, Madam.” his voice was cold now, it chilled the room, and made her shiver.  

 

She stepped back, drew her shawl closer around her shoulders as though his eyes had exposed more of herself to him than she would wish.  His smile merely made her realise that she had betrayed her vulnerability.

 

“Good.  I’m glad you can see sense.   You have heard of the President’s granting Henry Eugene an amnesty?”

 

“No, I hadn’t.  What does that mean exactly?”

 

“It means he has wiped the slate clean.   Henry can return to his home with his honour intact.”

 

She nodded,  her eyes never left his face as he stepped closer to her and silently closed the door behind him.

 

“I’d rather you left the door open, if you please -” she demanded but there was a shiver of fear in her voice as she said the words.

 

“I’d rather it remained shut.  We have things to discuss - you and I.”

 

“Only in your imagination, Jason.” she turned and walked to the window and stared out onto the garden.   She turned and looked at him over her shoulder, “Still here then?”

 

“Yes.  Faithful to the last, Madam.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, look at the situation here?   Our allies have gone to ground, bolted like scared rabbits.  It won’t be long before they are found and arrested, and depending upon the whim of the President either shot for treason or pardoned.”  he smiled without mirth, “The net is closing in on us, hadn’t you noticed?”

 

She said nothing to that, but once again stared out of the window before rallying a little and, in a voice very low, began to speak

 

“I heard that my husband shot himself and his body went through the window to the garden below.  I wonder what he was thinking as he stood by the window with the gun in his hand.  Do you think he felt fear?”

 

“Undoubtedly.   Probably for the first time in his life which is why he didn’t have the strength to live and fight on.”

 

“Jeannette’s gone, poor little Jeannette, Henry loved her you know, but Andre -”

 

“I know all about Andre.” he said with the words laced with irony.

 

“He’s dead.” she whispered, “My cousin.  We used to play together when children, and grew up visiting one another’s homes.   He and Jeffrey were good friends.”

 

“I didn’t know he was dead.   When did that happen?”

 

“Yesterday late afternoon.  He was taken ill at the depot just before we were about to leave.”

 

“So why didn’t you go when you had the chance?”

 

“I don’t know.    The Hendersons had offered me some comfort so I took them up on their offer.” she shrugged, “I think - I was afraid - Pelman, then Andre -” she shivered, and turned to look at him, “So why are you here, Thaler?”

 

“Do you know where you brother is?”

 

“No.”

 

“He’s in Russia.  When Cartwright discovered is real identity he was despatched to some part of Alaska with Russians, and has chosen to go there.   He telegraphed to your husband - he wants you to join him there.”

 

“I don’t want to go to Russia.” she replied and turned her back on him.

 

“Then you’ll be arrested.” 

 

“If Adam Cartwright hadn’t returned those documents to the President none of this would have happened. None of it -” she shook her head and bit her lip, “But it gives me a chance of a new beginning.   I can afford to go where I please.  It won’t be to Russia.”

 

Thaler shrugged, and put down some papers on a desk,

 

“Here, take these papers.   They would incriminate you with your husband’s schemes, but where there is no proof -” he gestured to the papers and smiled at the look on her face, “Oh yes, so you see, Thaler is not so bad after all, is he?  If you have possession of these papers you are free -    and I presume - rich.”

 

She didn’t move.  She didn’t trust him enough to approach the desk to look at the papers.  She merely looked at him with her eyes narrowed

 

“What’s in it for you?”

 

“Nothing.   I had hoped that perhaps we could have formed a partnership, picked up the pieces together.  I see that there was little point in such a hope.   Good day, madam.”

 

“Wait.”  he turned from the door and looked at her, but she merely blushed and bade him goodbye.

 

When the door was closed she picked up the papers and looked through them, found them to be just what he had said.  She stood still for a moment with them in her hand before she turned and made her way to the room that had been made available to her.  As she put the papers safely away she made her plans … Europe, perhaps France, and then London.  She was now a rich widow,  that meant she was free.  Quite free.

 

Jonas Thaler lingered a while on the sidewalk outside the house where Cassandra was making her own plans for a new life.    He had made certain plans, certain arrangements that had involved Cassandra Pelman whom he had adored from afar.  It was just strange that when the object of his adoration now came within his reach, he found her wanting, lustreless, undesirable.   He turned away and began to walk slowly towards the Eugene’s home.   Not that he could claim possession of it now, but it would be interesting to see it once more.  Something else that he had coveted for a long time.  

 

Now he stood before the driveway and watched as Henry entered the door of the house.  A free man.  Innocent because his sins had been washed free by Presidential choice.   Thaler shook his head.  He knew better of course.

 

……………………….

 

Ben passed over the money to the man in the ticket booth, and then took the tickets which he slipped carefully into his pocket.   Three tickets.   He smiled slowly to himself, and turned to walk back to the hotel.    He would not believe that Adam was home on the Ponderosa, of course, until he had been there about a week.   This strange upside down world into which they had entered would be straightened out, and life would slip back to some normalcy.  

 

There was just one more day before they left San Francisco.  In the morning they would be on their way home.

 

…………………………

 

The small building which was the chapel in Virginia City was not exactly crammed full with guests or just plain on lookers, but there was a good smattering of people filling the seats and waiting for the bride to make her appearance.    

 

Andrew Pearson stood with his groomsman, an old friend who had made the journey to stand by his side.   The music was playing in the background and the perfume of flowers filled the air, removing as it did so the usual scent of dusty books and beeswax polish.

 

Joe slipped his hat off and held it between his fingers while he looked for a seat that would not leave him feeling too conspicuous.   He glanced around him, nodded to those whom he knew and expected would be there as guests of Barbara and Andrew.   Some looked sharply at him, no doubt wondering why a Cartwright would b e attending the wedding of a woman whom many felt had jilted his brother.   Perhaps some would whisper later on to one another about the time Margie Owens had married some other man, and Hoss Cartwright had attended her wedding.  Perhaps they would look at one another knowingly, nod their heads in judgement and say ‘Well, and don’t we know what happened there!’

 

Down towards the front row of chairs Joe could see Peggy’s blonde head.  So, he mused, she had decided to come after all.   He smiled slowly,  and sat down in his chosen spot.   He hadn’t seen her since the day of the picnic.   He knew he had been rather sharper tongued towards her than he should have been, but there were lessons to be learned, she was so young,  so vulnerable.   He bowed his head reminding himself that he was in a chapel but nevertheless the thoughts still tumbled about in  his head.

 

He was wondering whether or not to go and sit with her when the music struck up the wedding march.   Like everyone else there he turned to watch as the bride made her entrance, and he felt a wave of emotion sweep over him, an emotion which he couldn’t actually describe accurately.    It wasn’t anger, against her on behalf of his brother, no, not now, he had understood and accepted her explanation and put that to rest, but perhaps it was a sadness, because an anticipated happy event had now proven to be nothing but sand trickling through one’s fingers.

 

She saw him and smiled as she walked down the aisle towards her husband on the arm of Doctor Paul Martin.    Joe allowed the thought to creep into his mind that it would have been his own father who would have led her down the aisle had the marriage been to Adam and he bowed his head.

 

He listened to the vows being said

 

“I Andrew John Pearson take thee Barbara Ann Scott ….”

 

“I Barbara Ann Sc ott take thee Andrew John Pearson …”

 

The rings were exchanged.  They had kissed.  They were man and wife. Mr and Mrs Andrew John Pearson.    They left the chapel with Lilith skipping between them and Joe wondered if they would live, really live, happily ever after.

 

He stood aimless and feeling a little miserable when he saw Peggy and smiled over at her, but she merely inclined her head and turned away.    Barbara approached him and he shook her hand politely and congratulated her

 

“I’m glad you came, Joe.  Thank you for that.”

 

“I - well - we -” he stammered, and glanced over her shoulder at where Peggy was standing talking to another girl.  “I hope you’ll be very happy.” and he knew he sounded as though he resented saying every word.

 

“Thank you, Joe.” she smiled, kissed his cheek, and walked away quickly to where her husband was waiting for her by the carriage.

 

The sun was shining on what was a beautiful day.   All around him there was applause, laughter and chatter.  He turned away and slowly limped towards the buggy.    Candy was there, leaning against the hitching rail with the reins in his hands, he smiled over at Joe and decided, from the look on his friends face, that it would be better not to say a word.

 

…………………………..

 

The stagecoach seats were as hard as ever, and the suspension was as unpleasant as usual.   Adam sat in the corner by the window and folded his arms across his chest, slipped his hat over his face, and closed his eyes.   There was so much to think about, and yet his mind seemed to be tumbling over and over on only one thought … he was going home.

 

Chapter 120

 

The stagecoach rattled along the familiar track which it had been rattling down for a number of years, dust formed clouds that drifted into the coach and coated the passengers liberally.   The sky was a relentless blue and the sun shone with a heat that dried the moisture from their skins and had them longing for water to drink.

 

Adam had shared some time during the journey telling Ben and Hoss about a ship sailing through ice strewn waters, where the ice shone in different colours when the aurora borealis glowed upon it.  He told them how miserably cold he was all the time and they laughed because now it seemed such a reversal of conditions, being now so warm.

 

But now they leaned back into their seats like so many travellers who realise that their journey was long, arduous and tedious.   The heat dried up their conversation and they waited with longing until they would be able to stop to stretch their legs and drink at the next watering hole.    The horses stretched their legs and the wheels of the coach turned round and round, but it seemed as though the miles were not being so much eaten up, as just slightly nibbled.

 

…………………………

The roads in the city were busy at this time of day and horsemen threaded their way around buggies, carriages and coaches with the impatience of men irritated by the constant delays that traffic caused them every day.

   

Marshall Duggan paused in his stride when he saw the man walking towards him.  A man with a thin face and narrow eyes.   Perhaps he would have passed him by without a second glance, walked on and wondered where had he seen that face before, why was he so familiar?   Perhaps he would have dismissed him from his thoughts had the man not looked up, seen him, and instantly turned upon his heel and ran into the crowd of people behind him.

 

No man with a clean conscience would do such a thing and Duggan immediately gave chase.    Along the way another policeman joined in the chase so that the man was forced to stop, check himself, and turn into the traffic.

 

“Stop that man -” Duggan cried and people stepped aside, shrunk into doorways, then regrouped together to look and watch as the Marshall chased after the man just ahead of him who was now weaving through the traffic in a panic stricken mindless manner.

 

The other policeman had also entered into the traffic in pursuit of the man Duggan was pursuing.   Buggies were reined in, horses squealed as the three men ran in among them, a carriage swerved and mounted the side walk.   Still they ran on  …

 

The brief case under the man’s arm fell from his grasp, fell and in falling it burst open, the papers it contained were caught by the breeze and fluttered skywards like so many butterflies seeking the sun.   He paused, turned to scoop and retrieve some of them, realised the futility of it and abandoned them.   Now he ran onwards, gasping for breath as he did so.  He glanced behind him, and saw the Marshall gaining upon him, a look of grim determination on his face.  He looked ahead and saw the other policeman pounding towards him.

 

He had never been in this position before - trapped and alone, panic seizing him, paralysing his thoughts, he paused again, spun around and that was when the horse struck him and hit him full in the chest.  He fell, his hands flailing upwards in a futile gesture of despair.  The horse, terrified, reared up, plunged down and struck out with its hooves.

 

A darkness engulfed him.   He was feeling pain but most of all he was enveloped in a fog of gathering darkness.

 

“Who is he?” the policeman asked Duggan as they kneeled beside the injured man, “Anyone you know?”

 

“Vaguely, can’t recall his name, someone who had dealings with that Pelman fellow if I remember rightly.”

 

“Will he live?”

 

They leaned over the bloodied body and Duggan sighed and rose to his feet,

 

“I don’t know.   Best get him to the nearest hospital.”

 

The traffic was snarled up for a while, people cursed and swore, animals chomped at their bits and pawed the ground while the wretched man was removed and carefully tended before being placed in an ambulance and taken to some anonymous hospital deep in the city .

 

…………………………..

 

Peggy Dayton Cartwright looked at the ticket in her hand and then placed it carefully in her purse.  She looked about her at the township she had known as a little girl and wondered if she would ever see it again.   She walked to the telegraph depot and asked Eddy if there was any news for her and he handed her a cablegram from her mother

 

“Peggy -stop - hurry home - you start finishing school in Switzerland in two weeks time stop mother”

 

She bowed her head and sniffed, Eddy was embarrassed because he had seen a tear drip from her cheek onto her smart blue jacket.  He hurried to his next customer and dealt with him while Peggy blew her nose and then quickly left the building.

 

Joe Cartwright was clambering down from the buggy across the road from the telegraph offices.  Candy Canady was with him and they were talking animatedly together as they crossed the road.   Peggy watched them and thought of the other day when they had enjoyed the picnic together, before this strange unseen barrier had been erected between them.   She looked at the cable in her hands and sniffed - well, that was it, a reminder as subtle as a sledge hammer that she was, after all, just a little school girl.   She looked over at Joe and blinked, he was smiling at her and coming towards her, taking off his hat as he did so, behind him Candy was doing the same, the sun shining on his near black hair.

 

“Hi, pumpkin -” Joe was smiling at her as though the past few days hadn’t happened, that barrier between them had never exissted, “Good news, Peggy.  Adam’s coming home.”

 

He was smiling, as the saying goes, from ear to ear.  She saw how bright his eyes were, and she smiled in return

 

“That’s good news, Joe.  When does he come home?”

 

“Tomorrow.” he reached out to take hold of her hand but she drew her arm back and looked at the cable in her hands,

 

“Well, that’s good, at least I’ll be able to see him before I leave town.” she pushed the cable into her purse and stepped forward

 

 “You’re leaving town, Peggy?  When?”

 

“The day after tomorrow.  Mother cabled to say they had arranged for me to go and finish my education in Switzerland.   Good day, Joe.  Good day, Mr Canady.” she didn’t look at them, she didn’t want to see their faces, she just wanted to get back to her temporary home and close the door on the world.  

 

……………..

 

“How is he, Dr?”

 

Duggan stood up from the chair in which he had not long settled.   He waited for the doctor to close the door behind him and settled himself into the chair (more comfortable than his)  at his desk,

 

“He’ll live.”  the doctor replied and put down some papers before looking over at Duggan, “In a manner of speaking that is -”

 

“I see,” Duggan frowned, not really seeing at all.  “I’ve some questions I need to ask him, if it’s at all possible the sooner the better.”

 

“No, that won’t be possible, I’m afraid.  When I said he would live, I should have explained that it will be more of an existence than life.   His legs are shattered, he’ll never walk again.  The blow to his skull -” he shook his head “well, I doubt if he’ll even know his name let alone any information you may want him to give you.   I’m afraid the poor wretch will be nothing more than -” he paused trying to find a suitable word other than something that would be totally degrading to the human condition.  “He’ll just live his life in some sort of twilight zone, that’s all I can tell you.”

 

“I see.”  Duggan frowned, then rose to his feet, “Well, that’s pretty bad news, doctor.”

 

“Does he have family, do you know?”

 

“I don’t know much about him at all to be honest, Doctor,  except for his name and that he once worked for Commodore Pelman.”

 

Duggan left the Doctor’s office and walked down the corridor.  Outside a light rain had begun to fall, it would wash away the blood that had spread across the area of road upon which Jonas Thaler had met his Nemesis.

 

………………………..

 

The stagecoach rolled into Virginia City sending clouds of dust spurting up through the ruts in the road as it came.  As it rocked to a standstill the door opened from inside and Hoss Cartwright jumped down, glared around him and wiped his brow.  How he hated stagecoach travel.  

 

“Hey, Hoss -” 

 

Joe’s voice rang out above the sound of the town around them, and his hand came and gripped his brother’s in a firm handshake, while his eyes looked into Hoss’ and asked the question that he didn’t feel his could put into words.   Hoss was about to open his mouth when Adam descended, laughed his deep laugh and grabbed Joe’s hand, then pulled him in towards himself to give him a hug,

 

“Why, Joseph Cartwright, I’d been told you were rattling around in an old wheelchair they dug out from somewhere -” 

 

“All lies, brother, all lies.” he stepped back to look at Adam while his brother did likewise, they shared a smile, one in which many emotions were equally shared, and then he turned to see Ben step down beside them, “Hi Pa, hope you behaved yourself this trip?”  he laughed as he shook his father’s hand, and Ben slapped him on the back, and assured him that he had been a model citizen.

 

They moved away from the stagecoach,  four tall men, handsome men, and were about to cross the road when they were stopped by a shrill cry as Peggy came running down the sidewalk towards them,

 

“Adam, Adam -”  she cried and threw herself into the arms of the tall man dressed in black who rocked back on his heels a little as he found himself with her in his arms, “Do you remember me, Adam?”  

 

She looked up into his startled face,  felt dismay at the thought that he had forgotten  her,  laughed when he laughed and swung her in the air just as he would have done when she was a little girl seven years old.

 

“Little Peggy Dayton”  he laughed and then set her down upon her feet, “Peggy,” he held her at arms length and raised her chin up with his finger just so that he could look into her face, “What have you done with all those freckles?” he asked gently while he thought  how much she resembled her father, and yet he could see Laura gazing back at him.

 

“I’ve grown up now.” she said simply, as she slipped her arm through his, “I’ve grown up and I’m going to Switzerland.”  she looked up at him and smiled, for just a moment in her life, everything was perfect.

 ……………….

 

He spent the afternoon riding.   A promise to Hop Sing, yes, he would be back for the special dinner and to greet their guests, a promise to Joe and Hoss that he would  not comment on any work that he may have noticed had been neglected during his absence and a promise to his father that he would soon be home.  He wanted to ride on Sport.  He wanted to breathe in the air of the Ponderosa, to smell that rich pine odour, to catch the cleanness of the air by the lake, to see the mountains and marvel once again at their beauty.

 

Ben had wanted to be with him, to share that time with him yet he knew that this time alone was like a curative for his son, a bonding of all that he loved, a coming back together of everything he had known  and cared about over the years.

 

Sport had been only too happy to kick up his heels and run, he was fresh and frisky, and as frolicsome as a two year old.   Only Adam could have said how good it was to sit in a saddle again, a familiar well worn saddle, to feel the reins in his hands and the strength of the horse vibrating through them.   He spent two hours just riding through his homeland, pausing occasionally to gaze upon some particular spot and to remember some incident that had taken place there some time before.   Then, noticing the way of the sun, he turned Sport back towards home.

 

When evening came and  the meal was over and most of the guests had gone to their own home,  when there had been laughter and merriment and everyone had tactfully not mentioned Barbara Scott and her recent marriage, and Peggy had acted like a ‘proper little lady’ Adam picked up his guitar, sat back relaxed and at ease.  He strummed a few cords,  Joe,  sitting opposite him caught his eye, winked and smiled.  Hoss folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, thought back to other evenings just like this one, and Ben sat in his chair, lit his pipe and puffed like old Versuvius.   In another chair Candy sat, his head turned towards the eldest son of Ben Cartwright, while Peggy Dayton sat nearby looking wistful and shy.

 

“Sing something, Adam.” Hoss said as he stretched out his long legs, “Sing us a song  …”

 

Adam smiled, he cleared his throat and after strumming a little to locate the right cords began to sing:

 

“Every road I see,

Leads away from me,

There’s not a single one that leads me home.

All the roads seem to be saying

“Friend, see what’s round the bend.”

So is it any wonder that I roam.

 

Oh the places I have seen

Keep a-calling me back agin

And in the pines I hear the cold wind blows

My heart keeps telling me

Footloose and fancy free

But the road goes by and calls me as it goes.

 

Well, maybe there’s a someone waiting

There with a smile

And maybe there’ll be some place

I can stop and rest awhile

Cos maybe you weren’t meant to be

Just a rolling stone,

And there’s a road to travel on that leads you

Back to home.

 

… and every road I travel on

Will lead me back to home.”

                                                                                                                                  finis

 

Krystyna

Shetland Islands

17^th March