A Certain Threat (The Merriman Chronicles Book 1) (17 page)

Merriman entered the cabin to find McBride trying to hold Grahame down..  The wounded man was struggling to get out of the cot he was lying on, but at the sight of Merriman he fell back with a groan.

“
How is he Mr. McBride?”

“
Very feverish Sir and weak from loss of blood which has weakened him to the extent that I fear for his life if he won’t rest.”

“
Commander, I must speak with you, privately,” gasped the wounded man, clutching at Merriman’s sleeve with feeble desperation.

“
Carry on Mr. Grahame, I’m listening, and I have some good news for you.”

“
Water Captain, I need water.”  Mcbride hastily filled a cup and whilst Merriman lifted the man, he held the cup to his lips.  Grahame drank greedily and seemed to recover some of his strength. Merriman gestured to the surgeon, who reluctantly left the cabin with a final request that Merriman didn’t tire his patient too much.

“
Captain, you know that I went to meet one of my agents who said he had information concerning the Lord Lieutenant.  Since sending that message to me, he and another of my men have been following a man whom we have long suspected of being involved in activities against the Crown.  Two nights ago they followed him to an old, deserted inn where he met with other men, mostly Irish but some of them English.”

Grahame continued slowly,
“My agent was discovered but not before he had heard confirmation of what we had suspected, the plot to attack the
Dorset
using the pirated revenue ship with a crew of Irish under French officers. And there is a French man o’war somewhere. Another plan these damned French are up to is something to do with stealing a shipment of plumbago or graphite, which the French are desperately short of.”

His voice fade
d, and Merriman thought he had lost consciousness again, but he opened his eyes again.

“
Water, more water.  Ah that’s better.   My man was badly wounded when he was discovered but managed to reach his companion and tell him what he knew and ordered him to meet me.  Then he turned to meet his pursuers and try to hold them off whilst his companion escaped.   I fear he must be dead.”

“
I met the man, who told me what had transpired but we were attacked and I barely escaped with my life. These plots must be prevented at all costs Mr. Merriman, at all costs.”  He closed his eyes for a moment. The increased pallor of his face and his laboured breathing showed what an effort it was to speak.

“
Rest easy Sir.  Part of this plot has already been foiled.  This morning we recaptured the Revenue ship and took the people aboard prisoner, those who were not killed that is.  We also took six Frenchmen, two of them officers, but the leader of them was killed by my marine officer. The French are aboard this ship and we have another Irishman captured when you were brought off the beach.”

“
Thank God,” gasped Grahame, impulsively grasping Merriman’s hand, “I knew Lord Stevenage was right to propose you for this command.  You have done more than I thought possible, but there is more to do, we must find out more about the graphite, why do the French want it?  They-------” His voice trailed off and his head fell to one side.

“
Mr. McBride, here, immediately” bellowed Merriman. As the man almost fell through the door in his haste Merriman added, “I’ll hold you responsible for keeping him alive, d’you hear McBride?  No more drinking or it’ll be the worse for you.”

Returning to the deck he saw that Mr. Jeavons and his crew had  safely brought the 
Pilote
from her moorings and under foresail only she was moving out to join
Aphrodite.

“
Mr. Andrews, signal to the First Lieutenant if you please, to anchor near me.  Then the men who are not part of his prize crew can bring our boats back.”

Two hours later, the boats had been hoisted inboard, the dead had been buried at sea and the two ships were heading north-east, gaining sea room.   Merriman leaned back in his chair after a filling meal of salt pork and biscuit fried in pork fat and consi
dered the morning’s work with satisfaction.  Grahame had been rescued, the pirated cutter successfully re-taken with little loss, prisoners captured and the French involvement proven.  Most pleasingly the crew were in high spirits after their adventures ashore and had even produced a man who played tunes on a fife as the anchor was hauled in.

Another thought struck him.  The crew was probably expecting a share of prize money.  If the cutter was simply returned to the Revenue there may not be any prize money.
   Well, that would be up to the Admiralty and the Revenue to argue over and could take months to settle.  In the meantime he had to decide what to do next.  There was still the mysterious French ship somewhere, ready to attack the
Dorset. 
If the French captain was determined he may try, even without the support of the second ship, because the
Dorset
was not escorted and would be an easy target.

And what was the reference to plumbago or graphite all about?  Merriman had an idea it was used for some purpose
in the casting of iron but why were the French interested?  They had half Europe under their thumb, surely they could find enough there.

Another worry was Mr. Grahame.  Was McBride professionally competent enough to save him?  And with Grahame unable to h
elp, who could he rely on to investigate the activities of Robinson and Beadle, the lawyer and his clerk whom Merriman was sure had been the passengers seen only yesterday on the boarded trading vessel.

Obviously the first and mo
st imperative action must be to secure the safety of the
Dorset
and her important passengers.  To that end he must find out when she would sail and
Aphrodite
must be the escort.  There was no other way, he must go to Parkgate to see the captain of the Royal Yacht, the
Dorset. 
His mind made up, Merriman’s mind raced with plans and ideas and he returned to the deck to give himself room to move and think.

“
Gentlemen, your attention.  Mr. Cuthbert, a course please, for the Chester Bar.  Mr. Andrews, heave to if you please and signal to Mr. Jeavons to come aboard.”

When the officers were assembled in his cabin, Merriman proceeded to enlighten them as to what had been learned about the Irish plan to seize the
Dorset
and passengers and the reason why the French were involved.  “Damned Frogs” muttered The Master, “Always up to some devilment.  We’ll be at war again soon enough, see if we’re not.”

“
I’m sure you are right Mr. Cuthbert”, replied Merriman, “so it is up to us to do whatever we can to frustrate them now.”

“
May we know what you intend Sir” asked the First Lieutenant

“
Yes. I must go ashore at Parkgate where the
Dorset
is stationed, to meet her captain to see if he knows when the Lord Lieutenant and his party are expected.  We’ll take
Aphrodite
as close as we can and anchor off the Point of Air, which is where the unfortunate crew of the Revenue cutter anchored that fateful night.  This ship draws too much water to go any further into the estuary.  Then I’ll take the ship’s longboat and sail up-stream to Parkgate.”

He continued,
“
Aphrodite
will remain at anchor until I return.  Mr. Jeavons, you will return to this ship.  Mr. Laing, you will take command of the
Pilote
.  You’ll take her to Dublin and hand over the Irish prisoners to the military authorities there. You can take the fellow you captured ashore in Ireland as well.  Present my compliments to the senior officer, explain the circumstances of the capture of the prisoners and request that they be held on charges of piracy and murder.  As soon as possible I’ll submit a complete report to him in person.  Confine your report to the loss of the cutter and her fortunate re-capture.  If possible don’t reveal to him the French involvement in this affair, but if he wishes to know where I am, you may say that I’m sailing urgently to England on a matter involving the Viceroy.   Is that clear Lieutenant?”

“
Yes Sir, and after handing over the prisoners?”

“
You’ll make all haste to join the
Aphrodite
somewhere off the Dee estuary.  I don’t intend to return the cutter to the Revenue until I’m certain that we’ll not need her.  Both ships will keep extra vigilant watch with the men armed and ready.  It is unlikely to happen, but I want no repeat of the piratical attack on the Revenue ship.”

“
Mr. Andrews, you and Mr. Shrigley will go to Parkgate with me. Have the bos’n pick a crew for the longboat and he can go with us.   You will wear your best uniforms.  Are there any questions Gentlemen?”

“
No? Good.  Mr. Cuthbert, as soon as Mr. Laing has departed set course for our destination, there is need of haste.”

But haste there was not to be.  South easterly squalls and rising seas prevented any headway eastwards. 
Merriman tried to heave to, but before darkness fell a full gale was driving the two ships off to the North West.  For two days
Aphrodite
made so much leeway that he began to worry about the proximity of  the coast of Ireland.  For all that time he remained on deck, lashed to the rail, as the ship was battered by the elements.  The wind howled and screeched in the rigging, enormous seas washed over the deck and the air was so full of spray that even in daylight there was little visibility.

It seemed to Merriman, soaked to the skin and half frozen as he was, that the storm had concentrated its
full malevolence on his small ship especially to prevent him reaching the
Dorset
with his warning.  But, he reminded himself, the
Dorset
couldn’t sail until the gale abated. Maybe they would be in time.

He thought about the fine but cold weather of the la
st few days and of how right the old proverb was.  “A fair day in winter is the mother of a storm the next.”  He repeated it to himself over and over again.

Life for the crew below decks must be well nigh int
olerable he thought.  Seawater would have found its way below every time a hatch was opened and everything would be streaming with moisture.  The close quarters in which the men lived and slept would keep them reasonably warm but the air would be almost un-breathable and there was no chance for the ship’s cook to provide anything hot for the men.  The constant pitching and rolling of the ship would prevent any but the most hardened seamen sleeping or even resting and what torments the injured Grahame was experiencing did not bear thinking about.

It was n
ot until the third day that the gale began to moderate   and when at last Merriman felt able to leave the deck he fell fully clothed into his cot. He was not even aware of Lieutenant Andrews and Peters his servant stripping the wet clothing off him, chafing his limbs to bring some warmth back and then covering him with blankets.

The next thing he knew was Peters shaking his shoulder. 
“Captain Sir, Captain --- it’s Mr. Graham Sir, Mr. McBride is worried about him Sir.”

Merriman forced the fog of sleep from
his brain and swung his feet out of the warmth of his cot.  “What time is it, how is the ship, where ------”

“
All secure Sir” came the cheerful voice of Lieutenant Andrews.  “It’s midnight, and we’re making good time on a course for the Dee estuary, Mr. Cuthbert is sanguine that we shall be there at dawn.  If Mr. McBride hadn’t been so worried about our mysterious Mr. Grahame we would have let you sleep on.  Oh, and there has been no sign of the cutter Sir, it’s nearly three days now since we saw her.”

“
I’ve slept for what, must be over eight hours ? Peters, Find me something to eat and a hot drink and tell Mr. McBride I’ll be with him directly I have some clothes on.”

A few minutes later Merriman stumbled blea
ry eyed into the cabin to find a distraught McBride.  “I’m losing him Sir, he’s dying and I don’t know what more I can do.”  The wretched man was almost in tears as Merriman glowered at him and stepped past him to look.  Grahame had been lashed into the cot to prevent him being thrown out and McBride was struggling to stop the cot swinging too violently.  The sick man was sweating and thrashing about, his cheekbones prominent above the sunken cheeks, the skin white and waxy looking.  Merriman thought McBride was right, the man looked like death but every effort must be made to save him.

“
Are you sure you took all the scraps of his clothing out of his wound when you extracted the ball?” asked Merriman, remembering his own wound.

“
I, I think so Sir” replied the miserable man.

“
Think so, think so, that’s not good enough man.  Get those lashings off him and turn him over, let’s have a look at the wound.”

Clumsily because of the movement of the ship, but as gently as possible they managed to get the injured man tu
rned over and his bandages removed.  Merriman drew in his breath sharply at the sight of the swollen inflamed flesh round the hole the pistol ball had made.  McBride had probably done his best and a couple of stitches attested to his efforts, but it was obvious that the wound was badly infected.