Ocean 9
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A few moments later a figure emerged from the trees and moved toward them. The light was bad, but it could not be mistaken: he carried a long pole with a small sail at one end, which was just sufficient to make out his shape in the darkness.
As he drew nearer, they saw that he had no head, only an empty space where it should have been; and then the other figures appeared, more slowly as the night deepened. There were several of them now, some holding up torches.
They seemed to be searching for something—the captain wondered what it could possibly be? He thought back on all their movements during the day’s march, trying to remember if they had passed anything lying on the ground.
‘Captain,’ said the lieutenant quietly, ‘they’re looking for us.’
The captain nodded. ‘We’ll hide behind this tree while they pass by. If there is any danger we must get away into the woods as fast as possible.’
They crouched down behind the trunk and waited. A moment later two men came walking past, their hands held high, waving the torch above them. It illuminated the grassy slope before them and the two figures that stood waiting there. One was the man who had spoken to them earlier, still carrying his lantern; the other, taller, was wearing a red jacket.
As the two men passed, the shorter one looked up and stopped abruptly. For a second or so neither of them spoke, then the shorter man turned round and ran off in the opposite direction. The taller man began to shout after him. The lieutenant rose and took three quick steps forward until he was standing next to the captain.
‘What do you think?’ asked the lieutenant softly. ‘Should we go after him?’
The captain shook his head. ‘No, let’s stay here. We can’t follow without being seen ourselves, and anyway I’m sure he doesn’t mean us any harm. Perhaps he was simply frightened by our presence. But whatever happens, we must keep well hidden.
Let me see…’ His eyes scanned the slopes around them. ‘I know!’ He pointed upwards. ‘There! That’s a good place, between those rocks. Now, let’s move quickly. Come along, Lieutenant.’
Together they scrambled up onto the ledge, where they lay flat on the ground. In front of them stretched a steep hillside covered with trees, the lower branches of which screened them from the slope below.
‘That looks like a promising hiding place,’ whispered the lieutenant.
The captain nodded. ‘But I wonder how we shall manage to climb down again?’
‘You will find that easier than you expect,’ whispered the lieutenant.
It proved true. As soon as the lieutenant had taken hold of the edge of the cliff, he pushed himself forwards until he found purchase and started to slide down. After a minute or two, he reached the bottom and the two men crept away through the trees until they reached the open ground beyond.
From their vantage point, they could see the lights moving across the plain. Some of the men were carrying torches, and others were holding up lanterns. They walked slowly, their footsteps crunching in the loose gravel underfoot.
Occasionally they would stop and examine something, sometimes a footprint, sometimes a mark on the ground. Once they paused near the spot where the two soldiers had fallen over. Then the party continued on its way.
For half an hour they watched silently. Then, suddenly, the tall man turned and stared straight at them. The lieutenant froze where he was, motionless as a statue.
In the same instant, a hand closed tightly around the captain’s throat. He felt himself falling backward and tried frantically to throw himself sideways, but the hand held him firm and dragged him down the slope, toward the lights.
The lieutenant also struggled wildly, but his adversary was too strong. The captain could hear the lieutenant gasping for breath as he fell further and further behind. Just before they reached the campfires the tall man released his grip, and the captain managed to roll aside. At the same moment, the lieutenant slid past him and disappeared.
The captain crawled forward and peered out from behind the rock. The tall man was leaning against one of the tents, apparently lost in thought. Behind him another figure was standing beside the fire, watching the captain carefully. The lieutenant was nowhere to be seen.
Slowly, the captain got to his feet. The tall man had turned away, seemingly unaware that the captain was even there. Slowly, carefully, the captain moved forward. When he was within five yards of the tent he raised his hand and waved.
At once the man spun round and jumped back a few paces, staring intently at the captain. There was no sign of recognition on his face. The captain stepped forward, raising both hands in surrender.
The tall man smiled. ‘Good evening, Captain. How are you tonight?’
‘I am very well indeed,’ answered the captain, smiling back. ‘And yourself?’
The man laughed. ‘Oh, just fine. You remember what happened yesterday?’
‘Of course. What about it?’
‘Well, it seems I owe you my life.’ He grinned broadly. ‘My name is William Marlowe. Will you come inside? We have some wine and brandy left from yesterday—and I don’t suppose you’ll mind if we share it with your friend here?’
***
Afterward, when they were safely back aboard the Black Prince, the captain and the lieutenant sat together at the stern, enjoying a last glass of port while they talked quietly.
‘How did you know it was him?’ asked the captain, after a while.
Marlowe shrugged. ‘Who else would it be? And besides, I knew it wasn’t you.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ve never known anyone who moves so quickly. It took me ages to get a clear look at you.’
‘It certainly does take some getting used to,’ agreed the captain. ‘But then, it probably always has done.’
Marlowe looked thoughtful. ‘I wonder why we’re not more observant. Why aren’t we quicker off the mark, and able to recognize people instantly, like they seem to do?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I think I understand. It’s because they haven’t spent all those years living in the shadows. Their whole lives have been spent among other people; they’ve grown accustomed to looking at faces and hearing voices. But most of us spend our lives alone. That makes us less likely to notice things.’
The captain nodded. ‘Yes. I think you may be right.’
They sipped their drinks in silence for a time. Finally, the lieutenant spoke up.
‘What now, sir?’
The captain smiled. ‘Now, Lieutenant, let’s go ashore and celebrate!’
⁂
A dark mist lay thick upon the ground as they came down to breakfast the next morning. For several minutes neither Jack nor Sarah had spoken, each lost in her own thoughts. Eventually, she broke the silence.
‘Do you ever feel frightened?’
Jack shrugged. ‘All the time. Most of the time, anyway.’
She looked at him curiously. ‘Most of the time?’
‘You heard what happened last night, didn’t you? About the man outside the hotel?’
Sarah nodded. ‘I saw the man myself—from the window of the hotel dining room. He was dressed all in black, and he was staring directly at me through the window.’
Jack frowned. ‘Didn’t say anything, though, did he?’
She shook her head. ‘Not a word. Not even when I opened the door.’ She paused. ‘That must have been why I was feeling so nervous. Because I was afraid I might see something… or someone… behind me.’
‘There was nothing there, though,’ said Jack gently.
She stared into space for a moment, frowning slightly. Then suddenly her eyes widened. ‘Wait! Did you see who he was? Could you tell?’
He hesitated. ‘Well, yes and no. He seemed familiar somehow—but I couldn’t quite place where I’d seen him before. In fact, he reminded me rather a lot of someone I met on board a ship once—a young sailor called Richard Cross. Only Richard wasn’t wearing a beard, and he had a different color of hair. And his eyes weren’t quite so cold, either.’
She leaned forward eagerly. ‘So you can definitely identify the man? Tell me everything you can remember about him, please!’
Jack told her, and watched as her face slowly lit up with excitement. She listened carefully to every detail and nodded as Jack finished speaking. At length, she drew a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, opening her eyes again. ‘Now I’m sure it really was him.’
‘Is that going to make any difference, do you think?’ asked Jack softly. ‘If it turns out to be him, will you feel safer?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Sarah thoughtfully. ‘I guess only time will tell.’
Jack nodded. ‘Me too. Me too.’
They ate their breakfasts in silence. Neither one of them felt much like talking—not since last night when they had both been shaken by the events which had taken place outside their hotel.
Finally, Jack rose from the table and stretched. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
Sarah followed him as he walked briskly towards the hotel entrance. As they neared it, they could hear a low murmur of voices coming from inside. They stopped and stood side by side, listening intently. Soon enough, the conversation became audible to them. The voices sounded angry and agitated—and loud.
‘Look here, Mister, I’ll ask you straight,’ shouted a gruff voice. ‘Why shouldn’t we just throw you in gaol?’
‘Because, you fool, I’m an Englishman! I was born in England, and I’ll die in England—that’s my country! You wouldn’t dare lock me away in your filthy prisons!’
‘We’ll do whatever we want, you mean?’ growled another voice. ‘You’re nobody special, are you, Mr. Englishman?’
‘Of course not! Nobody’s special. What kind of question is that? Of course, I am, aren’t I?’
‘Then how come you speak with such an American accent, eh? You sound more like a Yankee than a Britisher! I bet you’re some sort of spy, sent here by George Washington himself, aren’t you?’
‘How dare you!’ exclaimed the first speaker indignantly. ‘My name is Benjamin Franklin. And if you don’t believe me, look at my coat. There’s a small gold medallion hanging on the left-hand lapel. It has my family crest on it, and—”
‘Who cares about that? We’ve got you now, haven’t we, Mr. Franklin?’
‘Yes, that’s right, you have! Now stop shouting. If anyone else hears us, they’ll know you’re holding me against my will, won’t they? And then you’ll be sorry!’
‘Oh, I doubt that very much. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Even if you were telling the truth, we’d still have our hands full trying to find out who you really are. So why don’t we just forget all this nonsense, and let you go? That way, everyone will be happy.’
‘Happy? Why would I be happy? My life is ruined. All because of those blasted Americans! And now they want to kill me! Just watch yourself, Mister! Because I swear that I’ll get my revenge on you for what they did to me!’
The two men fell silent. A long pause passed between them, during which Jack and Sarah strained their ears to listen. After several minutes, the gruff voice broke the silence.
‘All right, all right. You win. Let him go. But keep a close eye on him. Don’t trust him even for a second.’
A moment later, the door opened and a burly, middle-aged man came striding out into the street. He looked around quickly, checking to see if anyone was watching, before approaching Jack and Sarah.
‘Mr Franklin, is it?’ he enquired politely. His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking its authority. ‘Well, well, well, what a coincidence, isn’t it? This must be your young friend. Do either of you happen to know his name?’
‘No, sir. We didn’t meet until this morning.’
‘Really?’ the man repeated. Then he smiled disarmingly. ‘Ah well, perhaps we should introduce ourselves properly. I’m Major General William Howe, and the gentleman standing next to me is Colonel Charles Lee. Now, where were we? Oh yes, Mr. Franklin, we were talking about your name.’
He paused for a moment, apparently waiting for something. When nothing happened, he went on.
‘As I say, it’s quite a coincidence, meeting you here. Your father was a British officer, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes, sir. My father served under Sir Arthur Wellesley in India, back in the year 1812.’
‘And he died in the service of his country, I take it?’
‘Yes, sir. He was killed at the Battle of Assaye when a bullet struck him through the chest. I was only six years old, so I don’t remember him too clearly. But he used to tell me stories about the army. About fighting battles in India and Europe, and other places.’
‘What a shame. Tell me, Mr. Franklin, would you consider joining us? We can offer you a commission in the Continental Army, and you could fight alongside your own people. You could make a difference like your father never had the chance to do.’
Jack nodded slowly, thinking fast. He couldn’t deny that the idea appealed to him. Not only could he serve his adopted homeland; but he might also gain revenge for the death of his father. For both reasons, he knew he had little choice but to agree to join the rebel cause.
‘I think I’d better talk this over with my friends,’ he replied hesitantly. ‘But I don’t think there’s any reason why we shouldn’t join your army. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner the better.’
‘Excellent!’ said the major general enthusiastically. ‘Good! I’m glad you feel that way. Come along then, and we’ll discuss things further. Right now, however, I think you should accompany me back to headquarters. I imagine that someone there will be able to give you some food and shelter until you can decide what to do.’
The End