Golden Lion (17 page)

Judith’s culinary advice had ensured that tonight’s main course, a mutton curry served with ship’s biscuit, had been tasty enough. The others had wolfed it down, but Pett did not so much eat his portion as move it around his plate. These eccentricities might easily have made him unpopular with his dining companions, but his profession demanded an ability to fit in with other people in almost any situation and he had taken trouble to make himself sufficiently agreeable that his presence at dinner was enjoyed, rather than endured, by those around him.

So Hal was smiling as he passed the wine decanter down the table and said, ‘Wet your whistle, Mr Pett. You made me tell you my story two nights ago. Now it is your turn. What twists and turns of fate led you to the particular patch of ocean from which Captain Tromp here …’ for the Dutchman had, at Hal’s suggestion, been invited to eat with them, ‘kindly rescued you. And I give you fair warning, Tromp, I will expect your story too, for I fancy your journey has not lacked incident.’

The Dutchman gave a self-deprecating shrug. ‘There have been … one or two interesting moments,’ he said, with a lazy grin.

Pett had by now poured himself half a glass and taken a sip that a sharp eye might observe had consumed almost none of the wine. He cleared his throat and began. ‘As you may recall, I sailed from Bombay aboard the
Earl of Cumberland
. I had been in the Indies conducting a number of negotiations with local grandees on behalf of the East India Company, setting up trade agreements and the like. Those discussions had concluded and when I met Captain Goddings at the governor’s residence he very kindly agreed to find room for me aboard his ship, the
Earl of Cumberland
, which was bound for London with a cargo of saltpetre aboard.’

There was a hissing sound as Will Stanley and Big Daniel both drew in their breath. ‘I don’t mind admitting that would scare me half to death, that would. Like turning the ship’s hold into one great big magazine, just waiting for a single spark to make it blow,’ Stanley said.

‘Your fear would be entirely justified, as I shall recount,’ Pett said. ‘But all was good humour as we set sail. Captain Goddings seemed a cheerful, hearty sort of fellow. He was greatly amused, I recall, by the nickname given to their ship by his crew, the Sausage.’

There was a very faint smattering of polite laughter before Judith said, ‘Forgive me, Mr Pett, but I don’t understand the joke in that name.’

‘Please do not be in the slightest bit discomfited, madam, for I confess I had not the faintest notion where any humour might lie either. Captain Goddings suggested it pertained to matters of meat and butchery. It seems the people of Cumberland are noted for preparing sausages to a particular recipe. Beyond that, I am at a loss.’

‘So tell us about this Sausage, or whatever she was,’ Ned Tyler asked, impatience getting the better of him. ‘Decent enough ship, then, was she?’

Pett nodded. ‘I would say so. Mr Goddings took great pleasure in regaling me with the particulars of her construction. I dare say he was keen to impress upon me what a privilege it was to be aboard such a vessel. In any case, he informed me that more than two hundred trees had gone into her. The pines for her mast and spars came all the way from the colonies but her heart was good English oak from the Forest of Dean. Or was it the New Forest? I confess I do not recall. But I can assure you, Mr Tyler, that all of her, from her masts and rigging to her sails and her great guns, were of the very best quality. For as a plain matter of business, the Company commissions merchant vessels of the very highest calibre, for its profits depend upon the arrival of its cargoes safe and sound.’

‘Captain Goddings’s name sounds familiar to me,’ Hal said. ‘I believe that my father knew him. Yes, now I remember. They fought together at the battle of Scheveningen in fifty-three. Father said he was a good man to have on your side in a ship fight.’

‘Ah, Scheveningen, that was some hot service,’ Ned Tyler said, shaking his grey head. ‘Too many good men sank to the sea bed that day. Good ships went down with ’em. We should have paid attention to the omens.’ He scratched the silver bristles on his cheek as he cast his mind back across the years. ‘The wind the night before was fierce as God’s wrath. Should have known the Lord was trying to tell us something.’

‘Enough of your old tales, Mr Tyler,’ Hal said, ‘or we shall never get to the end of Mr Pett’s story.’ He hoisted an eyebrow at Pett. ‘You must excuse Mr Tyler. As I am sure you know, we seafaring men are a superstitious lot.’

‘And with good cause,’ Tyler said. ‘Why, I was once coming out of a hostelry in Plymouth when a red-haired beauty came up offering her services to our boatswain before the lad had a chance to get a word in.’

‘Or anything else in, hey?’ Aboli said with a grin. Then he looked at Judith. ‘My apologies.’

‘There is no need, Aboli,’ Judith smiled. ‘I have spent the past year as the lone woman in an army of men. Rest assured, I have heard far, far worse.’

‘Now it is I who am at a loss. Forgive, me, Mr Tyler, but what was the significance of the boatswain’s encounter with the lady of ill-repute?’

‘Ned believes encountering a red-head before coming aboard ship brings bad luck,’ Hal explained to him. ‘Unless, that is, you speak to the fiery-haired harbinger of doom before she, or he – for the superstition pertains to males too – speaks to you.’

‘Ah, I see,’ Pett said. ‘And what happened to the young man after this encounter?’

‘Why he fell off the gangplank and sank like a stone.’ Ned shook his head again and clicked his fingers. ‘Gone just like that. Poor sod signed up to sail to the Cape and ended up drowning in Plymouth dock.’

‘Well I don’t put much store in superstitions, Mr Tyler,’ Pett said. ‘I put my faith in God first, and myself second. And recent events have convinced me that my trust in both is well placed. After all, I am here with you now enjoying this excellent food. Captain Goddings, his ship and all his crew, on the other hand, are merely bones and ashes on the sea bed.’

There was a muttering around the table at those bleak words that conjured up images that were rather too close to home for men who lived with the continual risk of death at the hands of the elements, their enemies and plain bad luck. Ned Tyler was about to say something, but Hal flashed him a warning look that told him to hold his tongue.

‘There will be no further interruptions, I can assure you, Mr Pett,’ Hal said. ‘Now if you please, sir, finish your tale.’

‘Of course, Captain. As I was saying, Captain Goddings was sailing back to London with a cargo of saltpetre. As Mr Stanley has already observed, this was a perilous venture and I hope you will all not think me wanting in courage if I say that I would not have boarded the
Earl of Cumberland
had I not wished – as I still do wish, I might add – to return to England, there to report to my masters at the earliest possible opportunity. So there is nothing to be said beyond, “There was a fire aboard ship.”’

He cast his eyes over the sombre faces around the table. ‘Well may you shake your heads, gentlemen, for even a landlubber such as I knows that fire at sea is the greatest peril of all. Indeed, your story last night, Captain Courtney, ended with just such an event. You, however, knew the cause of the conflagration that killed the, ah, Buzzard, as you called him. I do not know what started the fire on the
Earl of Cumberland
. I can only say that I was enjoying a convivial conversation with Captain Goddings in his quarters, as was our custom after dinner, when sounds of alarm and panic came to our ears. A moment later, in burst a crewman, his eyes wide with fright, crying out in panic, “Fire! Fire!” and then, “Come quick, Captain! For the love of God come quick!”

‘Then the captain, courageous man that he was, thinking nothing of his own safety but only of his duty, left the room and marched towards the flames that were now sweeping through his ship, knowing as he did that he was going to his certain doom. At first, I followed him out onto the deck. Men were running hither and yon like flaming torches in the dark. Flames rose high into the night sky, higher than the mainmast itself, hurling innumerable sparks towards the stars and the sound of their crackling was like the rasping breath of Satan himself.’

‘So how did you escape, mijnheer?’ asked Tromp. ‘You who were, by your own words, wanting in courage.’

‘By God sir, I’ll ask you to withdraw that suggestion,’ Pett retorted.

‘Perhaps I misunderstood,’ Tromp said. ‘I thought I heard you say that you did not want to sail on this ship, filled with saltpetre, because you were wanting in courage.’ He looked around the table with an air of injured innocence. ‘Was I wrong?’

A sudden tension had descended on the cabin and Hal realized that it was up to him to intervene before things went too far. ‘You did indeed mistake Mr Pett’s meaning, sir. He was asking us not to think him wanting in courage, his point being that it was perfectly reasonable to be nervous about boarding a ship carrying a dangerous cargo. I am sure that, now that I have explained my meaning, you will agree that Mr Pett did not admit to any cowardice, nor can any reasonable man find fault with his sentiments.’

Tromp gave one of his lazy, beguiling smiles. ‘Ach! I have indeed failed to comprehend the meaning of your English language. Forgive me for being an ignorant, ah, cheese-head – that is the right word, no, for a Dutchman?’

‘Forgive you?’ said Mr Pett. ‘For a misunderstanding, yes, that I can forgive. But being locked in a stinking hole for no other crime than being a shipwrecked passenger … I’m a long way from forgiving that, Captain Tromp. A very long way indeed.’

‘As I have tried to say many times, that was simply for your own safety.’

‘Gentlemen! Enough! I will not have disputes of this kind at my table. Mr Pett, if you please, be so good as to finish your story, which lacks but one piece of information. How did you, alone of all the men aboard the
Earl of Cumberland
, manage to make your escape?’

Mr Pett said nothing for a moment. He was still fixing his cold, grey eyes on Captain Tromp. But then, as if waking from a dream, or even a trance, he snapped back to life and said, ‘Through the two forces in which, as I remarked earlier, I place my trust: the grace of God and my own initiative. I was blessed, as it transpired, by my own inadequacies. There was nothing whatever that I could usefully contribute to the crew’s efforts to contain the blaze. On the contrary, had I tried to assist them I should only have been in the way. That being the case, I was faced with a dilemma. Should I stay aboard the vessel, and risk going down with her if she sank? Or should I attempt to escape, knowing that I would be alone in the midst of the trackless wastes of the ocean?

‘It was then that I called upon God for guidance and He did not forsake me. I felt His presence and heard His voice as He told me to make good my escape and showed me the means by which I could do so. There, before me, was the captain’s bed, very much like your own, Captain Courtney, though somewhat narrower in design.’

The mood lightened as everyone realized why Hal’s bed was unusually wide. Pett affected to ignore it and said, ‘I knew at once what to do. I used the bed to smash out the stern windows, then threw the bed itself out into the night and threw myself out immediately afterwards. I cannot swim …’

The laughter turned to gasps of astonishment. ‘But how …?’ Big Daniel began.

‘I know, Mr Fisher, I ask myself the same thing: how did I manage both to find the floating bed out there in the darkness and make my way to it through the water? I honestly have no idea …’

That, at least is the absolute truth
, Pett thought to himself, then spoke again. ‘All I can say is that I found myself on the bed, adrift on the waters. After a short while I saw a flash of light so bright it was like staring at the sun, so fierce that it felt as though my very eyes were being burned. A second later came the terrible sound of the saltpetre exploding, like the crack of doom. It was deafening. The only thing I could hear was the ringing in my ears, but in time that too passed and then … then there was nothing. It was a calm night, with very little wind and the thing that struck me with a terrible force was the silence. The ship and all the men on it had vanished, vanished utterly, leaving not a sight nor a sound behind.’

There was silence, too, around the table as everyone took in the awfulness of what Pett had described. He finally concluded, ‘I remained adrift, at the mercy of the elements, until I was spotted by the lookout on the
Delft
, to whose sharp eyes I owe a very great debt of gratitude.’

‘Well we all know what happened after that,’ said Hal, wanting to nip any chance of further arguments in the bud. ‘Now, I’m sure we’re all keen to retire for—’

‘Excuse me, Captain,’ Tromp interrupted.

‘Yes?’

‘You asked me to tell my story—’

‘Well, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow night.’

‘It’s only a very short story.’

‘Come on, Cap’n, give the man his turn,’ Ned Tyler piped up.

‘Aye, an’ give the rest of us a nice little tot of rum!’ added Big Daniel.

‘A very little tot,’ Hal conceded. ‘After all, we are assured that Captain Tromp’s is only a very short story. So go ahead, sir, since the table seems to demand it. Say your piece.’

Tromp looked around the table. He cleared his throat, and then he began, ‘There was an incident with a girl in Batavia. Her name was Christina. She was an admiral’s daughter.’

Now Hal was intrigued and amused, as were the others at the table. The
Bough
’s crewmen made a few suggestive remarks under their breath, which Judith affected not to hear, though a smile was playing around her lips as Hal said, ‘Go on.’

Tromp smiled. ‘It was the oldest story of them all. We danced, we laughed, we loved …’ He cocked an eyebrow. ‘And then one day she told me that she was with child. Worse, she told her father. I admit I thought he would explode like a powder charge with a short fuse. He liked me well enough as an officer on his ship, but as the man who had put my seed in his precious daughter?’