Beneath the aurora

And with that remark the sun rose yellow behind a distant mountain, shining pallidly through the cloud and throwing a rainbow against the purple islands to the westward. The ship's routine had sustained them through the hours of darkness, and now the rigours of the naval service demanded their attention again.

'I expect so, Mr Jameson.'

Jameson seemed satisfied. The preoccupations of uncertainty were at an end. He and, Drinkwater supposed, Mr Mosse, could rest easy. He realized suddenly that he might have brought Quilhampton across from the cutter and that the fact had not escaped the two lieutenants.

'Do you think Mr Mosse is likely to be as good a first luff as Tom Huke?'

'Well, sir,' Jameson began, but then the impropriety of the thing occurred to him, as did Captain Drinkwater's arch condescension. Jameson felt put in his place and Drinkwater strode off in search of Frampton and hot water, savagely indulging in his rank.

The ship's routine, which had seen Andromeda safely through the night, had not proceeded smoothly. News of the irregular events in the hold had spread like wildfire and the berth deck had buzzed with claim and counter-claim, rumour and inaccuracy. What emerged as fact was that a group consisting of the pressed American merchant seamen had, by an act of what was popularly regarded as 'treachery', attempted to cripple the British ship and render her helpless under the guns of an enemy. Whatever the private and internecine tribulations which beset the company of the British frigate, it was widely understood that when in the face of the enemy they sank or swam together. Claims of American 'patriotism' were thus easily dismissed, as was any idea that Sommer had acted treacherously. They were united by the white ensign which fluttered above the quarterdeck.

During the minutes that elapsed while Drinkwater and the marines ferreted in the hold, an aimless disorder had reigned above them. In this anarchic state, with all the ship's noncommissioned marine officers in the hold, men milled about, increasingly curious, spilling from hammocks and wandering into places they would not normally visit. Even the officers were affected, waiting round the orlop hatchway, or on the quarterdeck, gossipping intently until Birkbeck began to see the dangers inherent in this general laxity.

Mr Templeton was not exempt from the effects of this electricity. He was already in a state of high excitement at the revelations of the interrogation and now, in the gloom of the orlop, he came across Greer. Somehow, unaccountably, their hands met and, encouraged by the general dissolution of order, the intensity of a mutual passion overwhelmed them. Unseen, they retreated into the fastnesses of the ship far from the after hold where they stayed throughout the remainder of the night.

An hour after dawn Andromeda was hove to and Huke and Malaburn were buried. Then the yards were squared away, the sails filled, and the frigate stood inshore again. When under way, Drinkwater sent for one of the American prisoners. Danks brought the man before him.

'Who was Malaburn?' Drinkwater asked.

The American prisoner shrugged. 'I don't know. A patriot.'

'Had you seen him before you came aboard?' The American remained silent.

'Please believe me,' Drinkwater said quietly, 'I can soon make you talk. Do you know how Malaburn killed the first lieutenant? No? Then I will tell you. He waited beneath the carpenter's walk for Mr Huke to pass overhead, and then he thrust a boarding pike upwards through the grating!'

Drinkwater's words rose in tone. The man winced involuntarily and Drinkwater's voice sank to its former modulation. 'Come now; had you seen Malaburn before you came aboard?'

'I hadn't...'

'But others had, is that right? Shall I get one of the others?' The prisoner shrugged.

'I can hang you, you know,' Drinkwater said quietly. 'Have you seen a man hanged? The victim dances and then, when he cannot draw breath, he evacuates himself. It is not a pretty sight, but I shall do it if you do not talk.' Beads of sweat stood out upon the prisoner's pallid brow.

'Did Malaburn have anything to do with your escape from Dartmoor?'

The prisoner swallowed and nodded. He had to cough to find his voice; then he admitted, 'I'm told he did, but, honestly Cap'n, I don't know how. I didn't see him when we got away.'

'Got away? You mean from Dartmoor?' The American nodded. 'How did you get away?'

'We were a stone-breaking gang, on our way back from the quarry. The guards were bribed, I guess; we were told to stop and then our leg-irons were struck off by the guards. We left them — the guards — trussed beside the road. I didn't think of anything much at the time, except being free of going back to that gaol. I didn't see anyone at the time except the guards. I guess the whole thing was arranged. Others in the gang said they'd been told something might happen, but I hadn't. Happen I was just in the right place at the right time. It was only when we came aboard that Malaburn was pointed out to me and I was told to do what he said. When I asked why, I was told it was he who freed us from the chain-gang and that I was to obey his orders and he would see us safe back to Boston.'

'Who told you all this?'

'Hopkins, a Boston man like myself. We were taken out of a merchant schooner by one of your damned British cruisers more than a year ago. He seemed to know we were going to be released that day and what to do. The guards were quite friendly towards him and it was Hopkins who made us lash them together.'

'Hopkins is one of the others in the bilboes, sir,' put in Beavis who, with Sergeant Danks and a marine, was part of this impromptu, drum-head court martial. 'D'you want to see him?'

Drinkwater shook his head and continued his interrogation. 'You didn't see Malaburn until you came aboard this ship?'

'No.'

'And how did you get to Leith?'

'We didn't know we was going to Leith, and I daresay had we known how far it was we'd have refused. Hopkins said Bristol was closer, but orders were to lie low

'But how did you get across country?'

'We moved at night, slept rough, under the stars - that's kinda natural for us, Cap'n, if we're used to trapping…'

'Go on.'

'After about a week, Hopkins orders us to lie low for a day, then he comes back one afternoon with a carter, orders us into the back and tells us all is well. I don't recall where we stopped, though we stopped many times, but it was always at night in a town, and we were taken care of in a barn, or a byre, or once in a house.' The prisoner paused and seemed to be making up his mind before saying, 'We were kindly treated, Cap'n, people were mighty well disposed to us.'

'And when you arrived in Leith, you were shipped direcdy aboard a merchantman?'

'The brig Ada Louise of Hull, aye.' The American paused, then added, 'We seemed to be expected, though we had no issue of clothes.'

Drinkwater knew enough now from this and the earlier interrogation. 'Take this fellow forward again, Danks, and make sure he is secure.'

'Aye, aye, sir.'

'Mr Beavis, signal Kestrel for Mr Quilhampton to come aboard.'

'Ah, James, come in, a glass?'

Drinkwater was light-headed with a perverse and inexplicable exhilaration. Lack of sleep and the death of Thomas Huke had strung his nerves to a high and restless pitch, for he had woken with the thoughts tumbling over and over in his mind, and the short encounter with Jameson had been merely a symptom of his mental turbulence. From the interrogation of the American he had added substantially to his mental jigsaw puzzle.

He poured two glasses and felt the wine hit his empty stomach. It was, he knew, unwise to take drink in such circumstances, but such was the state of his excitement and so intense was his desire to seize those small opportunities he saw before him that he shunned the path of reason. Something of Drinkwater's state of mind communicated itself to Quilhampton.