Buccaneer

The man in the calico gown needed no further prompting. 'If you would step this way into my study, we can discuss matters in private,' he said.

He led them into a side room which had the bare look and slightly musty smell of a little used administrative office. On the shelves were several ledgers and minute books whose spines were mottled with mildew. The furniture was a plain wooden table and a cupboard, several chairs, and two large chests, one of which was securely padlocked and marked with a government crest.

'My name is Valentine Russell,' said their host, closing the door firmly behind them. 'I have replaced James Vaughan as lieutenant governor.' He crossed to the cupboard and took out three glasses and a squat dark green bottle. 'Perhaps I can offer you some refreshment. My rumbullion is prepared with a dash of lime, some tea and red wine. I find that it relieves the heat.'

The two men both accepted a glass of the liquid which Hector discovered left a metallic aftertaste in his throat. Valentine Russell drank off the contents of his glass in a single gulp and then poured himself a second helping from the bottle.

Sharpe came straight to the point. 'I have some merchandise aboard whose sale could be of mutual benefit.'

'What sort of goods?' enquired the lieutenant governor.

'Some silks, a quantity of plate, curiosities, lace . . .'

Russell held up his hand to stop him. 'Can you supply documents to say where the goods originate?'

'No, I'm afraid not.'

The lieutenant governor took another sip of his drink, his small, covetous eyes watching Sharpe over the rim of his glass. Hector thought that the lieutenant governor had a slight resemblance to Trinity's Christmas pig. Then Russell set down his glass with a rueful sigh.

'I'm afraid, Captain Sharpe, things have changed entirely since the time of my predecessor. More rules, more questions. The authorities in London are very keen to encourage trade with our neighbours, especially those in the Spanish possessions. There have been a number of complaints from Madrid. They refer to hostile acts by foreign ships and their commanders. Much of it is nonsense, of course.'

Sharpe said nothing, but stood gently twirling the stem of his glass between finger and thumb, waiting for the lieutenant governor to continue.

'His majesty's representatives throughout the colonies have been instructed to put a stop to these alleged unfriendly deeds,' said Russell.

'Very laudable,' commented Sharpe dryly.

Russell treated him to a conspiratorial smile which, however, contained an undercurrent of warning. 'The commanders of the king's ships, both here in the Windward Caribees and in Jamaica, have lists of those who are suspected of harrying our new Spanish friends. I myself have not seen such a list, but I understand that they are remarkably accurate. The same commanders have instructions to seize any vessels which may have been implicated in lawless activities, arrest their crews, and hand them over for justice. All goods found on board are to be confiscated.'

'And you say that these strictures apply throughout his majesty's possessions?' 'Indeed.'

'Even in Jamaica?'

As Sharpe put the question, Hector wondered if the buccaneer captain was implying that he would dispose of his plunder in Jamaica if Russell was uncooperative. If so, Russell's response must have come as a shock.

'Above all in Jamaica,' said the lieutenant governor firmly. 'Sir Henry applies the law most strictly. Last month he presided at the trial of two most notorious villains found guilty of taking part in the late raid into Darien. One of the accused saved his life by turning state's evidence. The other, a most bloody and obdurate rogue, was found guilty. Sir Henry ordered that he be hanged from the masthead of a ship in harbour. Later his corpse was transferred to the public gibbet in Port Royal. It dangles there still, so I'm told.'

Hector had rarely seen Sharpe taken aback. But the mention that Morgan was executing his former accomplices made the wily buccaneer pause, though only for a moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a double-stranded bracelet of pearls, holding it up just long enough for Russell to appreciate the lustre of the pearls.

'Please give my compliments to James Vaughan when you next meet him,' he said. 'I brought with me this little trinket as a gift for Mrs Vaughan, but as I shall not have the opportunity of seeing them on this visit, perhaps you would be kind enough to hand it on with my respect and compliments.'

He passed the necklace over to the lieutenant governor who admired it for a moment before slipping it into the pocket of his dressing gown. Watching the charade, Hector was sure that the necklace would never reach Mrs Vaughan. Russell gave a small bow and said, 'Captain Sharpe, your generosity is to be commended. I feel that I should await further instructions from my superior before deciding whether or not you may do business on this island. Governor Stapleton is not expected to return to Antigua for another ten days. Should you wish to remain at anchor during that interval, you would be most welcome.'

'You are very kind,' replied Sharpe, 'and as there is much to be done aboard my ship, I wish you good day.' As Hector followed his captain out of the room, the young man was still puzzling where Sharpe had obtained the pearl bracelet which he had used as his bribe. Then he remembered the velvet purse of jewels which Donna Juana had handed over after the capture of the Santo Rosario. The jewels were general plunder and should have been distributed equally among the crew. But it seemed that Sharpe had helped himself.

'The Adventure is over and finished!' announced Sharpe on Trinity's main deck in the cool of the same evening. His audience was the general council of the crew, and a long silence greeted his declaration. Looking around, Hector counted less than sixty men. They were all that were left of more than three hundred raiders who had marched inland from Golden Island with such jaunty hopes of winning riches. The survivors were gaunt and shabby, their clothes a mass of patches and mends. Their vessel was equally care-worn, ropes knotted and frayed, sails threadbare, woodwork bleached to a dingy grey by months of sun and scouring spray.

'The lieutenant governor has granted us leave to stay at anchor here for ten days, no more. After that we must depart or face the consequences.'

'Where will we go?' demanded an elderly sailor. Hector remembered him, a cooper by trade. He had made the barrels that had held their water supply for the long voyage around the Cape, a vital role. Now he was at a loss what to do. For him, like many of his shipmates, Trinity had become home.

'It must be each man for himself,' announced Sharpe. 'We go our separate ways. The authorities have lists of some of those who went to the South Seas. Any person on those lists is a wanted man.'

'Who made those lists and who is on them?' The question came from Gifford, the quartermaster. His bald scalp had turned the colour of mahogany, and his skin hung loose on his frame. He looked to have aged by at least ten years in the last few months.

Sharpe shrugged. 'I was not told. But some have already danced the Tyburn jig. Henry Morgan strung up one of our comrades recently.'

Gifford turned to address the entire crew. 'Does anyone wish to elect a new captain and continue with the cruise?'

His question was met with a silence. There was resignation in the expressions of the men. They were weary of voyaging. Those who had kept their plunder were eager to spend it.

'Very well,' announced Gifford. 'As quartermaster my duty is to supervise the final distribution of our prize. As soon as that is done, the company is dissolved.'

There followed an extraordinary ransacking of the ship. Men brought up on deck, piece by piece, all the items that Trinity had captured during her cruise and had not as yet been turned into cash — bolts of cloth for sail repairs, kegs of dried fruit, a firkin of wine, some painted church statues looted in La Serena, a spare ship's compass robbed from the Santo Rosario, even the lump of lead from her bilge which they had thought to melt down for musket balls. Everything was carried to the capstan and stacked in an untidy heap.