Dewey Lambdin - THE GUN KETCH

• Название: THE GUN KETCH
• Автор: Dewey Lambdin
• Жанр: Морские приключения

It's 1786 and Alan Lewrie has his own ship at last, the Alacrity. Small but deadly, the Alacrity prowls the waters of the Caribbean, protecting British merchants from pirates. But Lewrie is still the same old rakehell he always was. Scandal sets tongues wagging in the Bahamas as the young captain thumbs his nose at propriety and makes a few well-planned conquests on land before sailing off to take on Calico Jack Finney, the boldest pirate in the Caribbean.

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"So you have to tolerate this?" Alan said, trying not to sound too accusatory. To Mr. Lightbourne's reluctant nod, he went on. "May I take it, sir, that some revenue is gathered? Some import duty?"

"Uhm," Lightbourne shrugged eloquently, but meaning "no."

"The Navy cutter," Alan said. "Did she just happen to be away as an interloper is selling here in Cockburn Harbour? Or anchored here when Yankees enter Hawk's Nest Harbour over on Turks Island?"

"Better that than being sued, sir," Lightbourne told him. "Try to arrest a foreign vessel, impound its goods, and one ends up incourt months later, with damned little support from the Crown. Try to panel a court, I dare you! They vote for acquittal every time, and then the accusing officer is liable for damages. For slander, false arrest, for restraint of trade… lost incomes. For demurrages accrued while the suspect vessel was at anchor, and the crew's back wages, by Tophet!" the fellow spluttered. "Now you shew me the Navy officer able to defend himself against that, or the one with a purse fat enough to afford counsel and court costs. Oh, the Navigation Acts are a grand idea, but no thought was given to just how Crown officials were to enforce them, sir! 'Twould be better were we to accede to the inevitable, deal with the possible, and levy imposts to gain a little from each shipload. But to bar foreign traders and goods, to demand all British trade to and fro is done in British bottoms, well…"

"The only way possible would be if the foreign vessel resisted being stopped and inspected," Lewrie surmised aloud as they resumed a leisurely stroll past all the palmetto-roofed sheds, the canvas-topped pavilions heaped with goods of every description. "If they fired on a King's ship."

"Aye, and they're not that stupid, sir," the magistrate said with a wry chuckle. "Thumb their noses at you, bare their bums…"

"Introduce me, anyway, sir," Lewrie sighed in resignation. He was led to an open-sided pavilion where several civilians sat in the shade imbibing wine or ale. As Lewrie approached, dressed as a Crown officer, several of them found reason to finish their ales and make off, while the rest shifted uneasily.

"Mister Lightbourne," a gray-haired sea captain nodded to the magistrate. "A splendid good afternoon to ye, sir."

"Captain Grant. Allow me to name you Lieutenant Alan Lewrie, captain of His Majesty's Sloop Alacrity, sir."

"Captain Lewrie," Grant beamed, extending a calloused hand. "Captain Grant, your servant, sir," Lewrie rejoined, taking the hand. "Is that good ale you're enjoying there, sir?"

"Philadelphia beer, Captain Lewrie," Grant allowed. "It travels well, though. Do sit and enjoy a mug, if you've a mind."

"I would, sir," Alan replied, removing his cocked hat and taking a shaky seat in a sprung chair at the rickety table which rested on a shipping pallet over the sandy soil.

"Here on some official business, are ye, Captain Lewrie?"

Grant inquired with an innocent expression, and a deal of humour.

"To seek a small measure of gratitude, Captain Grant," Alan said as a wooden mug appeared, foaming and aromatic with hops. "You and I almost met two days ago, off West Caicos, sir."

"Aha! Your Alacrity was the brave little bulldog that saved me bacon from those pirates, was she?" Grant boomed. "Well now, 'tis 'deed happy I am to make your acquaintance, Captain Lewrie! Devilish it is, sir, the brass o' those cut-throats. 'Tis getting so an honest trader goes in fear o' his very life, engaged may he be 'pon his 'innocent' occasions! My undying thanks to ye, sir! Should have seen it, lads. Chased them buggers right to the razor's edge o' the reefs off French Cay, he did, within a whisker o' tearing the stout heart o' his fine little vessel out! Oh, ye've bottom, ye have, sir, no error! I saw ye sink one. Rest get away?"

"Sank three, sir," Lewrie replied as the others gave him cynical cheers. "And captured a dozen survivors. We have them in Mister Lightbourne's custody at the moment. Two boats escaped me."

"You'll get 'em," Grant prophesied. "Eager young feller like y'self, they got no chance, sir."

"I will, thankee, sir," Lewrie smiled, getting to the meat of the matter. "As for the ones now in custody, though… a case must be laid, sir. Not merely my word they were taken in arms. I need your testimony as the intended victim, Captain Grant. Else they'll be set free instead of swing. To continue their foul activities of preying upon… honest merchantmen, engaged upon their lawful and innocent occasions."

"Well, now, young sir…" Grant frowned, ready to strangle on such a preposterous notion. "Me testify? Bless me soul, Captain! A long voyage to Nassau… weeks waiting for the court to convene, sir. Demurrages piling up and all… were I to be paid recompense, I might be able to. But, hurricane season's almost upon us, and me poor old Sarah and Jane…"

"Mister Lightbourne does assure me, Captain Grant, that a deposition would be sufficient," Lewrie interrupted. And was galled by the sarcastic humour from all present his suggestion elicited.

"My, ye are a young'un, ain't ye now?" Grant chuckled. "For me to depose in a British court… American master and all… wheww!"

"You would have to lay yourself open to a charge of violating the Navigation Acts, I know, sir," Lewrie said, reddening with anger at their laughter. "And their lawyer would make Puck's Fair of you. But, were you to state that you were on passage for Hispaniola…"

"Ahh!" Grant smiled as he was let off the hook. "And we said that you forced me to enter harbor here…"

"So your testimony could be written out by a Crown official,"Lewrie sketched on. "An unbiased magistrate appointed by the Governor-General of the Bahamas, who could provide additional testimony to the unimpeachable nature of your voyage, sir."

"Why, bless me soul, young sir, if ye ain't the knacky'un!" Grant hooted and leaned back on his rickety stool. "And whilst I was in port here, not o' me own free will, as it were, I do believe I did trade Hispaniola goods fer salt. Straight across the board, hey?"

Lewrie blushed once more, feeling sullied by what he was being forced to ignore. "Your, uhm… commercial endeavors following what testimony you render, sir, are none of my concern, Captain Grant, and surely are not required to be cited in the deposition."

Playing fast and loose with King George's official edicts was an unsettling experience for him, one he knew for certain he did not wish to repeat. Sins of a personal nature were one thing, but… the Law! And placing his personal honour in jeopardy, to boot!

"We understand each other, Captain Lewrie," Grant simpered.

"This once we do, sir," Lewrie insisted. "Yet I would pray you complete your trading and clear these waters with all haste. I might just be possessed of a deep-enough purse to defend myself were I of a mind to inspect your vessel the next time I see her. Do we understand each other now, Captain Grant?"

Grant laughed and gave him an elaborate seated bow. "I do stand admonished, Captain Lewrie," he allowed with a wry expression. "We'll not cross hawses again, more'n like. And if we do, I'll try to outrun ye 'stead o' bribing ye. Ye catch me, though, I just might try the depth o' that purse o' yer'n. Can't expect the fish to be hauled aboard without a fight, ye know."

"I know," Lewrie nodded.

"Still want that deposition, then?" Grant asked.

"I do, sir, if you're still of a mind."

"Then let's be about it," Grant agreed. "Faster I give me testament, the faster I'll be out o' yer hair."

"And out of port," Lewrie prodded.

"And out of yer jurisdiction," Grant beamed. "Fair enough."

"Galling, ain't it?" Mr. Lightbourne said as they walked back to the Commissioner's House together. "Now you begin to know what I face here in the Turks. No support from Nassau. No real authority. Threat of being lynched were I too effective. Or turned out by those bone-lazy worthies on New Providence for being incapable, were they to discover the true circumstances which obtain here. I've turned many a blind eye, long as there's revenues from salt quarterly. Yet I cannot blame the people hereabouts for wanting lumber and luxury. They'd go naked and starving without the illicit trade. There'd not be one decent shack to live in without it."

"Mmmm," Lewrie frowned, pacing into his advancing shadow, eyes downcast.

"I do not sell my office, Captain Lewrie," Lightbourne told him. "Nor do I think you would. Watch yourself, though."

"Sir?"

"There's enough would sell their honour, turn the blind eye, and pray not to be bothered. Some of our exalted, so to speak, superior to you and me. And some so venal they'd even countenance your pirates, long as it was foreign-flagged merchants they plundered. Have a care, Captain Lewrie, whom you arrest. They might turn out to have powerful allies."

"You caution me to ignore the Navigation Acts, sir?" Lewrie demanded, stopping his stroll and looking up sharply at Lightbourne.

"I caution you, do nothing rash, Captain Lewrie," Lightbourne shot back, his own honour touched. "Think deep before you commit yourself. Before you do what honour dictates. But don't trust to a single snare. Lay yourself a web maze-y as a spider's, so there is no way for your prey to wriggle out. And, like me, be thankful for a small victory now and then, 'stead of going crusading."

"I see," Lewrie softened, seeing what sense Lightbourne was endeavoring to give him. "Thankee, Mister Lightbourne, I'll take a round turn and two half hitches. Look before I leap, then. And that's a trial best tested later. For now, I'll be satisfied with running the rest of this gang to earth. No way I suppose those in custody'd talk to us? Tell us where the rest may be found?"

"This lot're practiced sinners, Captain Lewrie," Lightbourne shrugged resignedly. "Honour among thieves… some freebooters' code of silence… the black spot and all that. They'd rather swing game on the gallows and be infamous for a few days. No hope of that."

"Then it'll take combing these islands," Lewrie vowed. "But comb 'em I will. However long it takes."

Chapter 4

"Make 'Captain Repair On Board,' Mister Mayhew," Lewrie ordered as Alacrity ranged up to within half a cable of the wayward Navy cutter Aemilia. They had spent a whole day and night seeking her, first in Hawk's Nest Harbour on Turks Island, Long Bay and Balfour Town on Salt Cay, and had finally discovered her cruising south of Big Sand Cay in the Lower Turks Passage.

The young officer who came through Alacrity's starboard entry port came most unwillingly, having dressed hurriedly and still had a blotch or two of shaving soap behind his ears, a fresh tea stain on his shirt front, and acted very put out and sulky.

"Courtney Coltrop," the officer said before Alan could open his mouth, his demeanor on the ragged edge of open insubordination. "I was not informed another ship was in my area, sir."

"Alan Lewrie, Mister Coltrop," Lewrie said, taking an intense dislike to him at once, and spurning the honorific of "captain" which he merited. "You're a hard man to find, sir."

"I do not maintain a set patrol, sir," Coltrop almost sneered, "so I may spread confusion among our King's enemies the better."

"Pirates and smugglers, aye," Lewrie glared. "Such as the Yankee trader in South Caicos harbor yesterday, which you did not find on your irregular patrol. Nor the pirates off West Caicos the other day. Ever patrol as far as that, do you?"

"The bulk of the trade is here in the Turks, sir," Coltrop said, waving an arm about the empty straits. "And I am one small cutter with a huge area to cover. Here now, what's the date of your commission?" he demanded, irked at the preemptory questions.

"February of '82," Lewrie snapped. "Yours? As if it matters."

"March of '83, sir," Coltrop reddened, realizing that he was junior at last, and should begin to show proper courtesy. Though it was a mystery to Lewrie that the lout would not automatically assume the deference due a captain of a warship larger than his tiny sixty-foot cutter. Alan put it down to insufferable, overweening pride, or impeccable connections and patronage; some powerful "sea daddy."

"Mister Coltrop, you were unaware that a substantial band of pirates were active in the Caicos? There was no rumour of an action off West Caicos three days ago, sir? No hint of past depredations?"

"No, sir," Coltrop grunted, considering the consequences.

"If you would be so kind as to join me in my chart-space, sir, I will discover the matter to you," Lewrie smiled benignly, "and use your knowledge of these waters so we may hunt the others."

They repaired below to Alan's quarters; Lewrie, the truculent Coltrop, sailing master Fellows and James Gatacre. Lewrie sketched out the area where the action had occurred with a pair of dividers.

"… picked up our boats here, and searched the foreshore for them," he said, laying the dividers aside at last. "There was some sort of temporary camp, but no arms or stores. Palmetto leantos or shacks. Empty and abandoned. They had nothing to return for. But I believe they have some lair in the Caicos still."

"That don't follow, sir," Coltrop told him, screwing his face into a moue of disagreement "They're freebooters. Live wild like so many bloody gypsies! More than like, they came up from Tortuga, off Hispaniola. Maybe over from Spanish Florida or Cuba, with all their goods in their boats. You scared the bejesus out of 'em, so they crossed through one of these passes after dark to scuttle off to safer waters. They're probably drunk as lords in some hurricane hole this very instant. Just came over for the odd raid or two."

"One or two luggers I deem a raid, sir," Lewrie smiled. "But five boats, with about eighty or ninety men between them, would need a shore base where they might store their ill-gotten gains. One or two boatloads could take one ship of the summer trade, at best, but five seems enough to raid all summer, and they had to have a place to cook, to sleep, to keep lookout for inward-bound ships."

"Well, one would suppose, sir," Coltrop sighed as though he were bored. "But, given me hurt you allege you dealt 'em, I'd put my guineas on their being long gone from the Caicos by now."

"A fatal assumption for the next ship taken, if such assumption is wrong," Lewrie snorted. "They've two swift luggers still, and could take at least one more vessel, so they have some profit torepay their pains. And I doubt if determined and ruthless men know when to quit. For revenge, if nothing else."

"Conversely, Lieutenant Coltrop," John Fellows said, raising his gingery eyebrows, as was his wont when he got excited, "what if there were ships already taken? They must have stowed that plunder somewhere in the Caicos, and they'd not sail away without it An even more compelling argument for them remaining. I wonder if you are aware of other ships that may be missing, sir?"

"Lord!" Coltrop gaped in mock wonder. "How would I know? With absolutely no method of determining how many ships set sail for the Turks to begin with, the when or the wherefrom?"