The Gold Seekers (26 page)

Captain Skinner reddened. “It is merely an inquiry, Captain Broome. You will leave the ship, of course. Is your first lieutenant competent to take command in your absence or not?”

“He is competent, sir. But—” Red hesitated and then plunged in. “I shall require to call him as a witness on my behalf. And—” He offered the cup of coffee he had poured, and Skinner accepted it with a brief nod of thanks. “Perhaps I should mention, sir, that Lieutenant Broome is my cousin.”

“As also is Mr. De Lancey, is he not?” For the first time since boarding the ship, Captain Skinner permitted himself the ghost of a smile. “That perhaps will even things up.” He sipped his coffee and then gave vent to an audible sigh. “This, ah, this unfortunate affair could not have come at a worse time, you know, Broome. A time when I’m driven to my wits’ end.”

“How so, sir?” Red asked. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat back in his chair, attempting to relax or at least to appear at ease. But it was a blow, he thought wretchedly, and a blow delivered—if he was not mistaken—by a vindictive Dora Lucas, rather than by her husband. Dora had not forgiven him for ordering her ashore at Fremantle with her ailing husband or, come to that, for having deprived her of Francis De Lancey’s company during her enforced stay in Western Australia.

He took a gulp of his own coffee and tried to concentrate on what the commodore of the Sydney Naval Station was saying. It was, he realized suddenly, more than a little alarming.

“Relations between the home government and Russia have worsened, it seems,” Skinner told him. “Indeed, the situation could well deteriorate and lead to war. The Governor has received instructions from the colonial secretary to put Sydney in a state of defense. He has only elements of the

Sixty-fifth Regiment here—barely a company—and he’s been told he must raise a force of militia to augment them. Easier said than done, with most of the able-bodied males deserting their employment for the goldfields. Deas Thomson says it will take months to raise and train a civilian force, so …” The captain’s broad, epauletted shoulders rose in an exasperated shrug. “In the meanwhile, His Excellency has seen fit to place the responsibility on my shoulders. He has passed the buck to me!”

“You, sir?” Red echoed uncomprehendingly.

“To Her Majesty’s Navy, Broome. My squadron is to undertake the defense of Sydney and Port Jackson Harbor, in the event of a Russian naval attack.”

“But—” His own unhappy situation momentarily forgotten, Red stared at his visitor in shocked disbelief.

“My squadron, until you rejoined it this morning,” Skinner declared bitterly, “consisted of the old Calliope, at present in dock for a badly needed refit, and three small sloops— Herald, Electra, and Fancome—which, as you’ll be aware, are under sail and mount thirty-four guns between them. And a recent addition, the paddle-steamer Acheron of five. Do you know what the Imperial Russian Navy could send against us, if the Tsar were so minded?” He did not wait for Red’s reply, but using the fingers of one hand to enumerate them, he listed the Russian ships. “At Valparaiso—or cruising in the Pacific, no one appears to know which—are an eighty-gun ship of the line and four sixty-gun frigates, plus at least a dozen brigs and sloops. And at Vladivostok, three of the line and fourteen frigates—damme, Broome, they could simply sail into this harbor, and there would be precious little we could do to stop them!”

“But are they likely to sail in, sir?” Red’s tone was skeptical, and Captain Skinner glared at him.

“For God’s sake, I don’t know! The Governor considers that it’s possible, and the Colonial Office is insisting that we must prepare to defend ourselves. I’ve had to send the Electra to Port Phillip, so that hampers me still further. And now, thanks to this infernal business between you and Captain Lucas, I’m to tie up my senior officers on a damned court of inquiry! I tell you, Broome, it could hardly have come at a worse time.”

That, Red thought resentfully, was hardly his fault. He said with restraint, “The court could be postponed, sir, could it not?”

Skinner shook his head. “Captain Lucas won’t hear of it. He’s senior to me by six months, a fact he does not hesitate to remind me of.” He looked at Red, and for an instant his dark eyes were lit with what was undoubtedly a sympathetic gleam. But it swiftly faded, and he went on, making no attempt to conceal his irritation, “The Governor wants a gun battery mounted on South Head, with long thirty-twos, and last night he told me that he thinks we should also mount guns on Dawes Point, George’s Head, Pinchgut Island, and Middle Head. But we have no blasted guns, unless we take them out of the ships! And if we do that, how in heaven’s name are we to do battle with a Russian squadron, if it appears?” Again he regarded Red searchingly. “The Galah and the Calliope are the only ships armed with thirty-twos, Broome. And I’ve already had to take Calliope’s bow-chaser for the battery on South Head.”

Red met his gaze glumly. “If you take my thirty-twos, sir, the Galah will have no teeth. Would it not make more sense to post a guard ship at the Heads—a steamer for maneuverability, perhaps—and let me patrol outside, to bring warning should any hostile squadron be sighted?”

“You, unfortunately, have been relieved of your command,” Skinner reminded him.

“Yes, sir, I know. But surely—”

“And if the court of inquiry finds against you, you’ll not be permitted to resume your command, save perhaps in the event of a Russian attack, when it might be a matter of expediency.” Captain Skinner passed his cup to be refilled, and as he waited, he took his cigar case from his pocket. “Join me,” he invited with sudden affability.

Red thanked him but shook his head. “I haven’t acquired the habit, sir. I smoke a pipe occasionally, but that’s all.”

“It helps the nerves,” Captain Skinner assured him. “And the temper.” When his cigar was lit, he inhaled deeply and returned to the subject of the harbor defenses. “I agree.

What you suggest would make more sense. But it’s not what Sir Charles Fitzroy wants. I can post the Acheron as a guard ship, certainly, and I can back her up with patrol boats. Also, there are, I understand, some old guns of fairly heavy caliber on Dawes Point, so it should be simple enough to construct a battery and fortifications there. But I shall have to take both your long guns if we’re to install a battery on George’s Head, and Calliope’s for that damned island—Pinchgut. In addition, I shall have to deprive you of your gunnery officer and your best guns’ crews, if I’m to carry out His Excellency’s wishes effectively. I’ve no choice, have I? As you don’t require me to remind you, the lure of the goldfields has denuded Sydney and all the neighboring townships of males of military age, and even if we were able to enlist volunteers, there would be no time to train them in gunnery. So the navy must provide the men as well as the guns, I’m afraid, and it will not be easy. We’re faced with an increasing plague of desertions from the ships in port. Seamen run from the ships, and it’s the devil’s own job trying to get them back from the goldfields—the infernal miners hide them.”

Skinner talked on, almost as if he were finding it a relief to be able to air his anxiety and speak of the problems that beset him, all trace of his earlier animosity gradually fading. Red listened, offering what suggestions he could, and when at last the commodore stubbed out his cigar and rose ponderously to his feet, his manner was the reverse of unfriendly.

“You’ll come ashore in your own gig, I take it?” he said. Receiving Red’s nod of assent, he held out his hand. “I’ll convene the inquiry board as soon as I can, Commander. It will be in everyone’s best interests to get it over without delay. I thank you for your hospitality. Ah, you will stay at your father’s house, presumably?”

“You will be able to find me there whenever you want me, sir,” Red assured him.

“Good,” Skinner approved. He reached for his hat but did not immediately don it. Frowning, he added with unexpected frankness, “If it had been left to me, you know, I would have allowed the whole unhappy matter to drop. You’re a good officer, with an excellent record, Broome, and I need you in command of this ship. But Captain Lucas was quite adamant; he would not let the matter drop.” He hesitated, subjecting Red to a critical scrutiny, and then said vehemently, “Devil take it, man—did you involve yourself with his wife? I want the truth, and it’ll go no further, I give you my word.”

Red drew himself up. “I did not, sir. I give you my word.”

“And I’m inclined to accept your word. But …” Again the older man hesitated, still frowning. “There was an, ah, involvement during your passage? With one of your officers, perhaps? All right, Commander—” He broke off as Red, in turn, hesitated. “I will not press you on that point, although I anticipate that the inquiry board will have to do so. But since making the acquaintance of Captain Lucas and of, ah, Mrs. Lucas, I confess I’m not surprised. She’s a deuced attractive young woman, and he’s—damme, he’s old enough to be her father! It’s asking for trouble to marry a girl like that at his age and then take passage with her in a naval ship.”

He sighed, seeming about to say more, then changed his mind and instead donned his cocked hat. Red escorted him to his boat, and he descended the accommodation ladder to the twittering of the pipe, the side party standing punctiliously to attention until his gig pulled away.

Red waited only long enough to acquaint his first lieutenant with the gist of what had passed between him and the station commander and, silencing Tim’s indignant comments with a wry smile, told him that he was to be left in command and asked for his gig to be lowered.

“You’ll be willing to be called as a witness, I trust, when the court of inquiry convenes … if I need you?”

“Of course I will—more than willingly, sir,” Tim returned. He added angrily, “I’d like to break that miserable little rogue’s neck! We’re damned well rid of Francis De Lancey, sir. And if I see him in court, it will be all I can do to keep my hands off him, I can tell you!”

“Between ourselves, I am equally tempted, Tim,” Red admitted. “But restraint is essential.” His smile widened. “For the honor of the service and all that entails, you understand, I intend to say as little as possible. Perhaps you will be

so good as to have a word with our surgeon’s mate and warn

him that he may also be required to give evidence before the

inquiry board?”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Tim acknowledged. “I’ll do that.” He

moved toward the entryport. “Your boat’s alongside, sir.” The side party formed up once more, the boatswain’s

mate of the watch put his silver call to his lips, and Red

descended to his waiting gig.

Under the lugsail, the small craft skimmed across the blue

water of the harbor, and Red observed Lieutenant Robert Fayrer, of the Herald brig, on the stone jetty, busy supervising the mounting of twelve-pounder brass guns in his half dozen paddle-wheel patrol boats, Captain Skinner pacing impatiently up and down behind him. Fayrer raised a hand in salute and then as swiftly lowered it. Fayrer, of course, as commander of the Herald, would be a member of the inquiry board that was to investigate Lucas’s complaints, and, Red thought grimly, it was evident that the lieutenant had already been warned of his duty and of the nature of the

complaints.

The gig wended her way up the length of the vast harbor, the various anchorages still crowded with vessels, most of them seemingly devoid of life. At the Van Buren wharf, by contrast with the others, a fine clipper-bowed schooner lay alongside, her upper deck a hive of activity as cargo was unloaded, and Red studied her with interest.

The gig put him ashore at the narrow wooden jetty in Elizabeth Bay, and he walked the short distance to his father’s house, the sun pleasantly warm on his back and the scent of flowering shrubs in the well-stocked gardens filling

the air.

He found only Jenny at home. Their brother Johnny was, it appeared, on an assignment for his paper at a new gold digging on the Meroo River and could not be expected back for at least ten days. And their father—Jenny’s small, sweet face clouded over, the smile with which she had greeted Red’s arrival abruptly fading.

“Dad is at the naval dockyard. He should have handed it over to the new superintendent a week ago, but”—she stifled a sigh—“Captain Lucas is making difficulties. He is a very arrogant, disagreeable gentleman, Red, but of course you know him, don’t you? You brought him out from England.”

“I did indeed,” Red confirmed feelingly. “What difficulties is he making, for God’s sake?”

“I’m not quite clear exactly,” Jenny confessed. “Except that it’s about money. Captain Lucas is trying to suggest that Dad misappropriated government funds—Dad, who is the very soul of honesty! It has hurt him very much, and of course there isn’t a word of truth in the allegations. How could there be?”

How indeed, Red echoed silently, hard put to it to hide his sense of outrage when Jenny added that Lucas had taken his allegations to the Governor.

“He will get short shrift there. Sir Charles Fitzroy has always thought most highly of Dad, but … oh, it leaves a very unpleasant taste in one’s mouth, does it not? And when you think,” Jenny went on indignantly, “that our dear, honorable father has supervised the building of the dockyard and commanded it for over a year, while he waited for Captain Lucas’s arrival, and done all he has done on half pay—it makes one’s blood boil.”

Red eyed his young sister ruefully. “I regret to tell you that our dear, honorable father is not the only one to have incurred Captain Lucas’s wrath. He is gunning for me also. And …” He shrugged, faced with a sudden suspicion. “It’s on the cards that he’s making trouble for Dad because he’s my father.”

Over luncheon, which they took together, he told Jenny of the commodore’s visit to his ship earlier that day, and gave brief details of the pending court of inquiry, careful to treat the affair lightly lest he add to her anxieties.

“So I’m relieved of my command until the board sits. I trust I can count on a bed here until it does?”

“Oh, Red, you’ve no need to ask,” Jenny reproached him. “Of course, there’s a bed for you here—there always will be. But you—” She flushed, embarrassed by the question, yet compelled to voice it. “You didn’t—that is, Mrs. Lucas is such a shallow young woman, and her manners leave a great deal to be desired. Surely you couldn’t have—”