Home From The Sea (17 page)

“Hours later, we slithered away under cover of darkness and turned south, to the comparative safety of Portuguese waters. The question was,” he said philosophically, “what to do next?”

Jim steepled his fingers on the table and studied them. “You could have stayed in the Americas. Those Portuguese
harbors
would have sheltered you.”

“True. And a few of us made that argument.” Toby sighed heavily. “But we’re Englishmen, and several of us are sinners, like so many men.” He lifted a brow at Jim, knowing Jim would know what he meant. He was not about to come right out and say it, since Mrs. Clitheroe was listening. “Few of us spoke the language, and fewer yet could stomach the food. Many wanted to go home, and I can’t say I blame them. With money in their pockets, it was Bristol and Liverpool and Southampton they wanted, not Caracas and Paramaribo and Fortaleza.” His brows rose, creasing his forehead. “So we sat down around the captain’s table, drank a great deal of rum, argued a lot, fought a little, and came to a decision.

“We’d split up and head in eight different directions. The navy was looking for the ship, the crew as a whole, not a bunch of individuals, you see. One by one, we’d be safe. The
Rose
’s records were destroyed, of course. But we rightly feared we’d be recognized if we stuck together. A hundred people watched the
Rose
victualing
and taking on crew back in Plymouth. Put a bunch of us together in one place – oh, yes, we’d soon be spotted, arrested. Hung.

“We left the
Rose
beached about a mile up an inlet, where the river’s tidal. I daresay she’s still there – rank-rotten, of course, since the weather soon takes a ship apart, the moment she’s neglected. Or perhaps a crew found her, floated her off, and she’s plying the Caribbean under a different flag, perhaps even a pirate flag. I hope she is. I came to be fond of her, and she was always a good ship, no matter the cruelty that took place on her and the meanness of her first captain.

“From Sao Luis we
traveled
east on different ships, all merchantmen. For myself, I was on a Spanish vessel,
La
Dama de
las
Flores
. I worked my passage with every manner of task that can fall to a deckhand. Thank heavens I knew my way around a ship by that time! After the battle, with so few of us left, we all did everything on the
Rose
just to stay alive. If you didn’t possess a skill, you learned it fast.” He gave Jim a faint smile. “You said I had the look of a monkey who’s been used to scampering about in the rigging, setting lines. I’ve done that – aye, and in a storm!

“The
Dama
took me to Corunna, and from there I wandered. Just wandered wherever my feet would take me, and earned my living where I could, and
if
 
I
could. I did many a job … came to speak Spanish fluently in a few months.
Wandered up into France and back south again.
Became a balladsinger quite by chance, when I had a bit of luck in a seamen’s tavern, singing Spanish versions of English shanties, which they thought was hilarious.

“The rest of us had headed to other ports – France, Flanders, Denmark,
Ireland
. I never knew where the others were. We agreed on only one thing: we’d come back here to The Raven at this very
time
, give or take a day or three, as the winds blow.
The 20th day of April, 1769.
And we swore we wouldn’t turn up here one day ahead of the date.”

“But why here?” Jim demanded. “I mean, I’m extremely glad you
did
walk up my path!
But why?”

“Charlie Chegwidden,” Toby told him promptly. “His mother owned this tavern, and when she died it was to come to him. We all knew this. He was the only one of us with a proper place to go back to, a place to call home … and he was the only one of us that the whole group trusted.
The rest of them?”
He shook his head slowly. “They couldn’t be relied on not to break up the treasure of Diego Monteras, bauble by bauble, drink half of it away and disappear with the other half. Charlie was a simple man.
A good man.
And,” he added thoughtfully, “
he
looked as healthy as a horse when we parted company.

“Captain Graves’s papers were tossed into the sea. With my own eyes I watched them float away in tatters, and the crew of the naval sloop had all perished. There was no actual written record that Charlie was ever on the
Rose,
much less still aboard at the time of the mutiny. Somebody might have seen him sign on in Plymouth and happened to know him by name, but we reckoned it was far from likely. He had no business in Plymouth, no kin there. We all believed he was safe enough to be coming home. Now you tell me, our own Fred Bailey saw him that day, and remembers.” Toby shrugged philosophically. “It looked like a fair wager, and we took it. I believe we had luck on our side yet again! Fred might have his suspicions to this day, but he’s never said a word, and why would he, him being a friend of both Charlie and his old mother.” He frowned at Jim now. “How did Charlie die?”

Jim sat back, looking along at Mrs. Clitheroe, who had heard every word. She was sitting in the chair by the hearth, the black cat asleep in her lap, both dogs at her feet. Her eyes were shrewd as those of a hawk as she surveyed the two young men. She had been cooking here since Charlie’s mother owned the tavern – she knew everything about The Raven’s business. Jim’s only secrets were much more personal.

“He was ill when me and my father got off the coach and started looking around for lodgings and a livelihood. We talked to the parson, and Vicar Morley told us to come right here. Seems old Charlie had let it be known he wanted to sell on account of his health. But he didn’t want to
leave,
he was absolutely decided about it. He wasn’t about to take one step away from The Raven, as long as he lived. And he held to the promise, Toby. He kept his word till the last. He was protecting the chest, wasn’t he? And that’s what you came here looking for.”

“Heaven help me, it was.” Toby sat back and knuckled his eyes, pulled his fingers through his hair, worked his neck too and fro. The arm was paining him, and Jim came around the table to examine it. Toby watched with heavy eyes as he unpinned the sleeve, untied the bandage, and peered at the wound. “I thought, if I could just take a few of the baubles, not even a handful, I’d be away and gone before Nathaniel and Barney and the rest sobered up and appeared along the path. A
few
of the baubles, Jim, and a man could live well, lifelong, if he was careful in his spending. I wasn’t greedy, and as sure as all hell, I didn’t want to look into the faces of Barney and Nathaniel and that crew ever again.” He shrugged. “I never had luck. I don’t know why I should be surprised Charlie died, but I knew the others wouldn’t be more than a day or three behind me. I spotted Barney and Nathaniel on the street in Exmouth – Marguerite was traipsing about after Barney. Seems she’d attached herself to him eight or ten months ago. Well, he kept her out of a brothel for the last of her days, which is something to be grateful for. Bless her poor
heart,
she had the same lousy luck as myself.”

“You?”
Jim made negative noises. “Your luck changed the day you walked up the path, looking for Charlie Chegwidden, and found Jim Fairley instead.” He studied Toby closely. “You don’t have to worry about the bold Barney Bellowes any longer. How many others were in Exmouth? How many are we expecting?”

For a moment Toby continued to frown at him. “You’ll throw in with me?”

“For a chance at a share in the prize, and for the sake of mateship?”
Jim demanded.
“You and me?”
He dropped his voice, well under the old lady’s range of hearing. “If you know what I mean by
you and me
.”

“Oh, I know what you mean!” Toby permitted a low chuckle. “When we went our separate ways there were just eight of us left of the original company from the
Rose
, counting me and
Charlie.
Now, Charlie’s long gone and Barney’s stone cold in the cellar, which leaves five of them, and
myself
. I saw Nathaniel and Joe in Exmouth. That’s Nathaniel Burke and Joe Pledge. Eli Hobbs and Rufus Bigelow and Willie Tuttle are still out there, headed for Exmouth and then here. I’m just lucky Nathaniel and the others stayed in Exmouth long enough to drink themselves legless and get good and poxed! Barney just sobered up first and risked the weather to get here. And you have to admit, Jim, the prize is worth getting wet and cold.”

“The prize.”
Jim was on his feet now, pacing between the table and the hearth. “The trouble is
,
I’ve never seen any such chest. There’s nothing on this entire property that looks or smells vaguely like it.”

“The real trouble is,” Toby corrected, “Nathaniel and the rest of them won’t believe a word we say. They’re going to say I came here, found the chest, took it out of here and hid it, with or without your knowledge.”

“And me?” Jim was conscious of a pulse hammering in his throat. “They’re going to take one look at you and me and – you know.”

“They’ll assume we’re partnered up to swindle them.” Toby pushed up to his feet. “I’m so sorry, Jim. I’ve put you in terrible danger.”

“Damn.” Jim closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the thin edge of old fashioned panic hovering in his nerve endings, and then he rubbed his face hard, forcing himself to think. “It’s too late for them to get here tonight, I’d say. For a start, there’s more heavy weather on its way – do you hear the wind and rain? If they haven’t shown up already today, they’re not going to.”

“The weather might win us an extra day,” Toby hazarded. “But the only way for you to be safe is for me to go.”

“That’s not going to stop Burke and Pledge and the crew walking right up to my door!”

“True. But you can always say you never saw me,
nor
Barney.” Toby’s shoulders lifted in a faint shrug. “The only people who know Bellowes
was
here are in this room. You can be sure Nathaniel and the rest will search this house from cellar to rafters, so we’ll need to get the body out of there.”

Jim was two steps ahead of him. “Dealing with Bellowes is simple enough. As soon as it’s dark, we’ll drag him out to my boat – she’s just a rowboat, on the beach not fifty yards from here. We’ll carry him out just far enough to float, and let the tide take him. The
fish’ll
have him halfway bare to the bone before the weather breaks, and by then Burke and his crew will have finished here, and gone. If his remains wash up, he’ll be buried as a ‘stranger taken by the sea,’ and there’s the end of it.”

“Then, I’ll be gone in the morning,” Toby said softly, “and when they turn up at your door, Jim … for godsakes let them do what they want, smash what they want. They’ll be in a fine fury when they find nothing here, but since you’re living the life of a simple innkeeper, it’s obvious you never found anything Charlie hid. If you’d found it, you’d have bought yourself a title and be living up in London! Now, Charlie’s buried in the Budleigh churchyard so, sure as hell, he didn’t make off with it. It’s a
mystery,
it’ll always be a mystery. They can take the puzzle away with them. And then,” he added darkly, “you and I might discover just what old Charlie did with that chest!”

“And where will you be?” Jim asked quietly. “What’s to say the likes of Burke and Pledge won’t put a pistol ball in me, the way Bellowes took a shot at you? I want you here, Toby. Maybe not in plain view of the bastards, so I can tell them I never even heard of you, and be believed. But I want you close enough to hear a good, loud shout … two pistols and the boat gun, loaded and ready.
All right?”

“All right,” Toby agreed. “I’m so sorry, Jim.”

“Don’t be.” Jim gestured at the building around them. “This whole scheme was already underway when my father bought The Raven. It’s not your fault any more than it’s mine. But I’ll tell you this: I can’t go up against a man like this Nathaniel Burke. I’ve never fought, never pulled a pistol on a man.” He slapped the aching leg. “This is Jim Fairley we’re talking about. It was home in London first and then stuck here all my life. You could say I’ve been mollycoddled in the shelter of being lame since I was too young to know what fighting was about.”

Toby breathed a long sigh and beckoned Jim out of the kitchen – out of sight of the old lady. In the darkness and privacy of the taproom, he took Jim in an embrace and held him tight. “I’m not going to walk out on you, if this is what you’re thinking.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Jim began, and then could not speak, for Toby’s lips hunted for his mouth and silenced him efficiently.

“Try giving them what they want,” Toby suggested huskily, a long time later. “If they want to ransack the whole tavern, just stand back and let them do it. You know, we both know, Charlie hid the chest here somewhere. We just need to find it.”

Jim took a long, calming breath. “I’ll put my hands up and back off.”

“If you get the chance, you get the hell right out,” Toby growled. “If they try to run you off, just go, Jim, and stay away long enough for them to be done and leave.”

“But what if they find the chest?” Jim’s
tonguetip
moistened his lips. “Think about it, Toby. They come here, they tear this place apart and they find it. You and I come out of it with nothing.”

“Nothing but the gift of our lives,” Toby argued. He cocked his head at Jim, looking curiously at him in the soft light spilling out of the kitchen. “Now, what are you thinking?”