A Certain Threat (The Merriman Chronicles Book 1) (12 page)

“
That’s kind of you Sir, I look forward to it.”

Merriman looked around for Mr. Beadle as he left the building but the little man was not to be seen.  Mounting his horse, Merriman rode slowly to the Yacht Inn where he stabled the animal.  Wi
th time to spare he strolled up the street, pausing to look in Mr. Taylor’s music shop where apparently one could buy a harpsichord for eighteen guineas, a pianoforte for twenty four guineas, guitars, violins, violincellos and all manner of wind instruments.  He moved on to the church in the centre of the town and then down Bridge Street.  He gazed into shop windows, many of them the new bow windows developed to show more merchandise and to entice people into the shop.

He was amused by some of the curious i
tems advertised in the pharmacies,  “Try Dr. Steer’s Apodeldoc for the Cure of  Chilblains, Rheumatism and Lumbago” announced one.  “Devonshire Tooth Tincture, Relieves Toothache and Prevents Decaying Teeth from Becoming Worse.  Restores the Colour and Sweetens the Breath.  Two Shillings and Ninepence a Bottle” declared another.  More disconcertingly others promised certain cures for venereal disease, among them “Dr. Arnold’s Pills” and one with the resounding title of “Abbe Blondell’s Grand Chymical Specific.”  Merriman smiled to himself and moved on.

Later, over a pleasant meal, the conversation between Merriman and Mr. Flitwick was mostly concerning smuggling and the troubles of the Revenue service.

“Do you know Sir, that the source of most of our problems is the Isle of Man?”  Merriman had to admit that he did not.

“
Used to belong to the Earl of Derby and then to the Duke of Atholl you know.  They owned the island and most of their income came from lower duties and customs paid to them on goods prohibited here which were then smuggled into England and Wales, Scotland and Ireland too.  That state of affairs continued until the Duke of Atholl was prevailed upon to sell his fiscal rights to the crown and the Revestment Act of 1765 transferred ownership to the Crown.  Have some more of this excellent ham Sir, or maybe another portion of the steak and kidney pie, I can recommend it.”

Merriman had to admit defeat. 
“Thank you, but no. I am too full already.”

“
Very well then, you won’t mind if I do” said Mr. Flitwick helping himself to another thick slice of ham and a generous dollop of pickle.  “Where was I?  Oh yes, the Isle of Man.  After 1765 the trade declined a bit until the smugglers re-organised but it is still a significant and profitable trade, although since Mr. Pitt reduced the Duty on many items it must be less so.  There are so many boats engaged in smuggling around these coasts that I doubt  we catch more than two or three in a hundred, which makes it all the more surprising that the smugglers want to call more attention to themselves with this latest devilment.”

Popping another portion of ham into his mouth and speaking with his mouth full, he went on
“Now they come from France and Guernsey and unload at sea into smaller boats and wherries to be smuggled ashore. In 1788 Mr. Pitt the prime minister commissioned a report on the trade from a Mr. Frazer who said that he estimated that the amount smuggled into the island at that time was about fifteen thousand gallons of brandy and perhaps five thousand gallons of Genever a year, not to mention tea and other spirits and wines.  The loss to the treasury in unpaid duty must be enormous.”

“
I had no idea that such quantities were involved” said Merriman.

Flitwick carried on, almost unstoppable,
“Frazer also reported that many of our own officers were so addicted to drinking that they were incapable of duty and some of them were even connected with the smugglers so that we are uncertain which of them is loyal.  There was another more recent report from a Mr. Alexander Cook last year, to the effect that unless more cruisers can be found, together with more Riding Officers supported by more military, then it is doubtful that most of the trade can be prevented.  Even so, little has been done to improve matters. There Sir, what do you say to that?”

“
I would agree, there seems to be little hope of stopping the trade completely, but if we can catch a few more and especially find out who or what is behind this latest outrage, then we may make some impact upon it.”

“
Maybe so” said Mr. Flitwick, looking wistfully at the remaining ham. “Maybe so.  Anyway, I must settle with the landlord and get back to my duties.  This has been a pleasure Mr. Merriman.”

“
Indeed, and thank you for a fine meal. I look forward to meeting you again Sir.”

As he rode homeward in the fading daylight, Merriman pondered on the e
vents of the day. What did the re-appearance of the cutter mean?  Was the gang even now killing and looting some other innocent party?  Little Mr. Beadle came to mind, what was he doing at the customs house?  Was he about his own business or was he on an errand for someone?  If an errand, then surely it would be for his employer, the lawyer Jeremiah Robinson.  If it was an errand for the lawyer then surely he would have spoken to one of the senior customs officers, even Mr. Flitwick, not to a mere clerk?

Merriman shook his head.  Question upon question and an answer to none of them.

On the outskirts of Dublin, an old weather-beaten inn creaked and shook to the onslaught of the wind and rain. A faded sign swung to and fro with eerie screeching from the long un-oiled ironwork from which it hung.  On it could just be discerned the words “The Poacher’s Rest” but the painted picture which once must have shown the figure of a poacher was so battered by the elements that most of the paint had peeled away long ago.

To the passer-by the place gave the impression of total derelict
ion, even the gates to the stable yard looked unusable and the roofs of the stables and outbuildings visible over the gates appearing to be in a tumbledown condition.  That impression would be wrong.  If the passer-by had been able to see them he would have found the hinges on the gates to have been carefully oiled and in the stables several horses feeding contentedly from their nosebags.  No light from the single lantern escaped from the stable as window and doors were covered in sack-cloth.  At the back of the old inn a feeble light glowed through a crack in an imperfectly covered  window.

Two stubby pieces of candle stuck into the neck of wax encrusted wine bottles gave enough feeble light to illuminate the faces of the five men grouped round the rough wo
oden table in the centre of the room.

Two of the men were dressed in caped overcoats such as a coachman might wear. One of these two was generously proportioned around the waist, whilst his similarly dressed and elegant companion was quite tall and slim. 
This man wore a small tie wig and carried himself with an air of aristocratic arrogance as though he considered himself to be above his companions. A third man, small in stature, with a furtive air about him stood close beside the fat man.  The fourth man, dark featured and dark haired, was roughly dressed, more like a fisherman than a gentleman, and was unmistakably an Irishman.  But it was the fifth man who drew the attention of the others.  He was plainly but elegantly dressed in dark clothing with a silk lined cloak round his shoulders.  He wore no wig but his hair was powdered and tied back with a silk ribbon, a style fast going out of fashion. A deep scar on his left cheek seemed to be emphasized by the candlelight.  A simple leather baldrick supported a long rapier at his side which had the appearance of a well used weapon.  He stood there with one hand resting casually on the hilt of the sword.

Round the walls of the room five or six other men could be seen, some having the appearance of labourers but
others more respectably dressed.  Two or three of them held muskets and all of them were armed in some way.

The elegantly dressed man was speaking quietly but he had no difficulty in making himself heard as the others kept a respectful silence as he spoke.

His first words revealed him to be a Frenchman.  “I understand that you believe all to be in readiness for our plan to proceed, mes amis, but I need still to be convinced that this is so.  Le bateau, I mean the ship, has been disguised and concealed and a crew found from your Irish comrades, this I know, but I am still uncertain how well they can manage the guns or how well they will take orders from my French officers.”

“
Have no fear on that score Monsieur Moreau” said the dark haired Irishman, “we’re all determined that the plan will succeed and the bloody English will find that they are dealing with a harder and better organised group of Irishmen than they can imagine.”  He scowled briefly and in the candlelight his face took on a malevolent cast. “Your plan cannot fail. The men I sent to help know what is at stake and how important it is to the future of Ireland.  They’ll control their desire to kill the prisoners, at least until they have served our purpose.  And if you need more men I can raise them for you.  When we’ve done what we must, all Ireland will rise in our support and drive the oppressor from the soil of our land.”  His eyes glowed with fanaticism as the men round the room shouted their approval of his sentiments.

“
And then Mister, we will be able to repay France for her help in our struggle.  She will be able to use our ports from which to attack England.”

“
Mon Dieu Monsieur O’Donnell, if your words are true we will succeed ten times over. ‘owever there are some items which we must still determine.  One, it is essential that we know the actual time that the ship will sail carrying the people we want to capture and the message must be passed to our ships in good time for them to reach the point of attack.  How is that to be done?”

The tall
, slim and aristocratic man who had not yet spoken replied, “I am to travel to London tomorrow to join the Viceroy’s party and I’ll send word by courier from there when he and I and the others actually leave London. A courier will travel far quicker than we will so that you will have at least two days in hand.  The ship which is named the
Dorset
won’t sail the moment the party arrives at Parkgate but will be delayed whilst their baggage is loaded and even then sailing could be further delayed by the state of the tide and weather.  So you see, from the moment word arrives from London there will be plenty of time for a boat to sail to where the cutter is concealed and then for it and your ship to meet at the pre-arranged place off Anglesey.”

“
There will be no escort vessel so that there will be no difficulty in your two ships overpowering the crew of the
Dorset. 
Just make certain that your men know who I am.  I don’t want to be killed by mistake.”

The smallest man smirked,
“I think Sir William, that we can safely say that our plan is complete in every detail.  What can go wrong?”

“
Bon, and the second item Messieurs,” the Frenchman continued, “The part that is of almost equal importance to France?”

“
Ah yes, the graphite or plumbago as we call it.  As soon as Sir William’s courier reaches Mr. O’Donnell in Chester with confirmation of the time that the party is leaving London, then he’ll send a message to the captain of the fishing boat waiting at Parkgate who will then sail up the coast to where the graphite we’ve already stolen has been stored and hidden. After loading that they’ll wait until the cutter joins them after the
Dorset
has been taken”.

He laughed,
“The mining company has lost so much of the stuff during its journey to London that they have decided to try to send it by sea from Ravenglass. Our friends in Borrowdale have told us that it’s being stored in a warehouse on the dockside under guard until they charter a ship.  We’ll raid the warehouse at night, the guards quietly disposed of, then the casks containing the graphite quickly transferred to the cutter which will then rendezvous with you off the south coast of the Isle of Man.  What can go wrong?”

O
’Donnell looked slyly at the Frenchman, “You know the value of this graphite don’t you Monsieur?  What we’ve already stolen from the mine and from the wagons taking it to London is worth over forty thousand pounds sterling.  We’ve got more than four hundred casks of it and with the amount in the warehouse there could be over a hundred thousand pounds worth at the price charged for it in London, if not more.  We’re trusting you to see that France honours our bargain and that we’ll all receive our share”.

T
he Frenchman looked at him with contempt.  “Have no fear Monsieur O’Donnell, France will pay you very well, but you have still to deliver and complete your side of the bargain”.

“
Very well then, I repeat, what can go wrong?”

“
I think that much can go wrong” growled the fat man who had not yet spoken, “What happens if there is a gale blowing and our boats cannot put to sea?  What if our hidden cutter is discovered?  Suppose the graphite is shipped before we expect?  I think that we have planned for most eventualities but it would not do to be too complacent.”

“
Certainement Monsieur, you are right, but should there be un tempete, a storm, then no ship will sail and we may “ave une autre chance, n’est ce pas?”

“
We’re as ready as we can be, said the small man, “All the men on the boats know what they have to do and they’re only waiting for the signal to mo---------”.  He broke off as a shout, a shot and a scream were heard outside.  The table and chairs were flung aside as the men around the room all rushed for the door led by the dark featured Irishman O’Donnell.  The Frenchman and the other three men waited in silence until the Irishman re-appeared, his face white with shock.

“
Somebody has been spying on us.  I left a man on guard in the stable and he has been shot to death just outside the window of this room.  He must have seen the intruder or spy outside and tried to catch him and been killed for his pains, but he must have made his mark before he died because the knife in his hand has blood on it.  He was a good Irishman, we’ll miss him.”

“
But this spy must be found immediately, God knows how much he overheard or if he saw any of our faces!” exclaimed the fat man, mopping his forehead with a large kerchief.   “The whole plan may be in jeopardy.”

“
All my men are searching for him now and he can’t be too far ahead of them.  The sea is on one side of us and the moss on the other so he must keep to the road and is most likely heading for town. and if he’s badly hurt he won’t be able to travel fast.”

“
Can’t he cross this moss you spoke of,” asked the small man with some asperity.

“
No chance of that” replied O’Donnell, “It’s nearly all quagmire and quicksand.  Many a man has disappeared in there, swallowed up with no trace left of him.”

“
So gentlemen, nothing can go wrong, isn’t that what you said not quarter of an hour ago?” hissed the Frenchman, obviously keeping his temper with an effort.  “I am surrounded by imbeciles.  Your careless lack of enough guards has allowed an intruder to learn our secrets and if he is not found quickly I may be forced to abandon the entire affair.  France cannot yet be publicly involved with your Irish revolution.”

“
Well, whatever happens we must be on a boat back to England tomorrow morning” said the fat man to his two companions.  “I am sure that you Sir William will be travelling the fastest way by packet boat so that you can to be sure of joining the Viceroy’s party in time, but my man and I will travel by less conspicuous means.”

“
Monsieur Moreau, O’Donnell knows where to find us all and he’ll let us know if this spy has been captured or not.  As we can do no more here now I think we should leave at once and go our separate ways.”