The Odyssey of Ben O'Neal (12 page)

"Tropic dress, with pith helmets," said Tee. "Introduced from India regiments." There is nothing so educational as going to sea.

So far, it was a most unusual place, I thought, as the officials were greeted by Cap'n Reddy and disappeared into the afterhouse to do their business. Everyone on the
Conyers
was in good health, so the quarantine doctor had no problem clearing us and got back into the boat, which was replaced immediately with another police boat.

A few minutes later, I was looking forward to a skiff ride to the Queen's Dock when the bosun came trodding up to say, "You two, follow me.
Das Hund
stays here."

We did so, having no idea what was in store, down through the forward cabin behind Gebbert's lurching back, and directly into the captains stateroom, where stood the two officials, cool as ice cream in their tropics; and Josiah Reddy, the latter frowning at us. About this time, I had a sinking feeling. Tee's quick glance toward me was nervous. The bosun departed and the door was closed.

"Good afternoon," said the shortest of the two, knobby-kneed and rawboned and small-eyed. "I am Basil Collymore, Solicitor-General, Queen's Counsel, and this is Sergeant Marion Watkins, of Her Majesty's police. You are Miss Wendy Appleton, eh?" He peered at Tee with not much friendliness. Basil Collymore was white, and Sergeant Watkins was black.

I'd never heard Tee's voice so thin as when she answered, "Yes."

His eyes shifted, perch spotting the worm. "And you are Benjamin O'Neal, U.S. citizen, member of this ship's crew."

I nodded.

"I have here papers ordering that Miss Appleton be returned to the port of Norfolk, at the request of the British consul general, aboard any vessel bearing the Empire flag."

Breath out of us, we just stood there.

Basil Collymore went on, "And there's not to be any interference from you, young man."

Feeling puny and swallowing, I looked over and saw Tee's chin quivering. Her eyes had begun to well and her face was as white as Collymore's spotless shirt.

He passed the letter to her, saying, "You should read this, Miss Appleton, so you will clearly understand the seriousness of what you've done."

With shaking hands, she took it, and I looked over her shoulder:

Honourable Basil Collymore, Q.C., O.B.E., M.A.
Government House
Bridgetown,
Barbados
B.W.I.

In a low voice I asked Tee, "What is a solicitor-general?"

"Just below the attorney-general," she answered in an equally low voice.

"What are all those letters behind his name?"

"Queen's Counsel, Order of the British Empire, Master of Arts."

He sounded important. We read the letter:

My Dear Solicitor Collymore:
I pray that this unpleasant request that I make will not interfere with far more important duties. However, I ask your able assistance in apprehending a young girl named Wendy Lynn Appleton, British subject and resident of London, whom I believe was foolishly persuaded to take passage on the American bark
Christine Conyers,
due to arrive shortly in Bridgetown.

For almost six months, I have attempted to return this thirteen-year-old child to England and have been thwarted continuously by ignorant people residing in a desolate village on the North Carolina Outer Banks, principally one Benjamin O'Neal, known to have signed on as a crew member of
the Conyers.

Briefly, I had Miss Appleton in my personal custody last month and had made arrangements for her return passage. An incorrigible child, she refused to abide by certain normal procedures and ran away, along with a dog. Within a few days, the O'Neal boy visited my office and I had suspicion he was involved. With whereabouts of the girl still unknown, I spent two days checking
crew lists of departing vessels and discovered that young O'Neal had indeed joined the
Conyers.
Logic guided me to the belief that he had somehow stowed her away on that vessel.

I respectfully request that you meet the
Conyers
and investigate. Should the Appleton girl be aboard, I would deeply appreciate it if you would return her here to me in Norfolk on the first available British-flag ship. Further, the O'Neal boy should be informed that any untoward steps that he takes will result in immediate arrest for interference with legal proceedings of a sovereign nation.

Insofar as the dog is concerned, should it be accompanying the girl, I would suggest you shoot it and toss it on a refuse pile, where it belongs.

I trust and hope that you are in good health and enjoying your office on that beautiful island with our fellow countrymen. I envy you.

Most sincerely,
Henry Calderham
Her Majesty's Consul-General
Norfolk, Virginia
USA

Never in my life had I read such a mean letter. I would have given anything for Cousin Filene to be standing in that cabin with us as Tee passed it back, shaking and helpless. Had I been able to get in touch with Heron Head station, every Banker over twelve would be packing his kit for the Barbadoes.

Cap'n Reddy broke the awful silence by saying to Tee, "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do. I did inform Mr. Collymore that you were not a stowaway."

Tee swallowed and nodded, seeming to shrink.

It had been kind of a lark for her to come aboard the
Conyers,
but she'd meant well. Now, send her back under arrest? Shoot Boo? Not by a ton of snakes, I thought, getting mad. What I couldn't figure out was how Calderham's short arm had reached so far in so short a time.

I asked Queen's Counsel Collymore. "How did that letter get here so fast?"

"Not that it's any of your business, the
Cashamara
brought it in a week ago," he said, and in almost the same breath, "Now, young lady, gather your things."

The coal-burning, steam-spouting
Cashamara.
Modern conveniences.

Tee got enough possession of herself to ask, "Is Lord Footman on the island?"

Collymore answered, "His Excellency is on holiday in England. Now, please gather your things."

Tee's face dropped again.

I had a scant moment with the victim of the Empire's officials while she was packing her kit: the clothes Mama had made or bought for her, several dresses and a pair of shoes that she'd acquired in Norfolk on that shopping trip with Calderham.

"Why did you want to know about that Lord Footman? Who is he?" I asked.

"The Governor-General. He knew my father, and also likes dogs. He has a fine basset hound named King Pellinore."

She was throwing her things around. The shock had worn off, and Tee was riled now, I could see. From past experience, I knew she could get riled as well as stubborn. Little lines of fiery red were around her lips.

"Ben," she said, "I am not going to England without Boo. That's very definite, no matter all the police on earth."

I tried to calm her down. "There's nothing we can do now," I said in a fatherly tone. "Best you go on, and I'll try to find a way to get him over there. As soon as I get back to Norfolk. I'll try to find a ship that will take him. I promise."

Tee shook her head defiantly. "Where I go, Boo goes."

I said, "Don't worry about anyone shooting him. I don't think there's a man on this ship, even the bosun, who'd let that happen."

Tee finished stuffing her things into the cardboard case and whirled around. "I know this island better than that silly solicitor. Ben, tomorrow you meet me at Cole's Cave, in St. Thomas Parish, and bring Boo with you."

Not that! "Tee, you can't run away again," I pleaded.

"I certainly can, and will," she said flatly. "You meet me, Ben. Don't you fail. Go up the beach road to Holetown, this side of Six Men's Bay and Speightstown, then go inland. The cave's on a plantation, not too far from Dunscombe and Welchman Hall. Ask anybody."

I was about to ask,
And then what do we do?
when Sergeant Watkins poked his ebony head into the cabin. "I say, are you ready?"

Tee replied, "Quite, officer."

Along with Boo, I followed them up the companionway and out onto deck, where Cap'n Reddy and the solicitor awaited. Dry-eyed and grim, Tee said good-bye to the captain, to me, and to Boo, and then turned to Collymore. "I'll do what's right, sir," she said.

Now, that had a very familiar ring, straight from the Widow O'Neal, and I thought to myself,
Well, here we go again.
Everybody would be wise to hang on to their straps.

Tee waved farewell as the Lord Nelson oarsmen shoved off and headed for the Queen's Dock.

Boo let out a moan, though he had no idea what was going on. Simply, Calderham had succeeded in splitting the Rock of Gibraltar, after all.

Cap'n Reddy observed, "She's quite a girl."

Few could deny that, one way or another.

"V
ELL, VAS ISS DIS
all about now?" the bosun was asking in his usual frightening roar as the Harbour Police skiff rounded the jetty and disappeared into the busy basin. He hadn't heard.

With heavy heart, I told him.

He eyed Bridgetown with alarm and said, as if personally insulted, "Dey can't do dat." Like practically everyone, except officials like Calderham and Collymore, the bosun had grown fond of the castaway girl. "If de
Fráulein
vants her
Hund,
den she should have her
Hund.
" He reached down and gave Boo a flat-hand pat on the head, surprising both the dog and myself.

"I think so, too," I said, seeing a sudden, unexpected ray of hope.

"Vell, vas iss she goin' to do?" he asked.

Truth was wisest, so I said, "She's going to run away and hide in a cave. She knows how, all right. I'm supposed to meet her tomorrow with Boo."

The bosun, frowning toward the port, said, "
Ach,
das iss no way to do it. She'll never get off de land, much less mitt
das Hund.
"

"What's more," I warned, "they may shoot Boo if he goes ashore."

"
Nein,
" Gebbert growled.
No,
it meant, I had learned from less pleasant experiences.

"That's what the letter said."

"Den he stays safe here," said Gebbert, looking thoughtfully around at other ships in the anchorage, as if he had an idea.

I could now see much more than a ray of hope. With the bosun on our side, the whole late-afternoon sky was filled with it. Gebbert alone was equal to about twenty Collymores, fifty Calderhams, and a few of the West Indies Regiment. I only wished there was some way to get word to Tee to sit tight.

Finally the bosun said, "Tell you vas; after supper I'll take a
Boot und
make some of dese ships. Ve'll get her back mitt
das Hund.
"

"What will the cap'n say?" I asked, now worried about him. "He told her he couldn't help."

The bosun said, "De cap'n will help. He don't like officials, but he likes de
Fräulein.
"

In about an hour, word was all over the
Conyers
about Teetoncey's latest plight, and no less than six sailors, including Nils and Barney and the Bravaman, offered assistance. I said the bosun was taking care of it for the time being, and they decided to let well enough alone. Eddie Cartaxo was right: In time of trouble, Gebbert was the one.

By supper, the captain and the second mate were ashore. The bosun and the chief mate ate their meals pretty much in silence, and then Gebbert left the saloon, saying to me, "Ve'll see now."

I went up on deck as he hailed a boat to begin making the rounds of all the American ships in Carlisle Bay. There were two steamers, a bark, and two big schooners.

In the galley, I asked Eddie where they might be keeping Tee ashore, still having thoughts of trying to contact her, telling her to make no moves until we could work it out. "Probably in an inn," the Bravaman said. "I don't think they'd put her in Graystone."

I asked what Graystone was.

"Graystone Gaol, the old jail. It's a very bad place. I've stayed there under lock and key. So has the bosun; even the cap'n, a long time ago when he drank a lot."

"Hans is trying to help," I said.

Eddie laughed. "You see, I told you."

"He doesn't seem to like the police here."

Eddie laughed once more. "That's because of Graystone. One night he wiped out half of the Ice House—that's a famous saloon over there—when a British sailor called him an ugly swine. He must have decked twenty men before someone threw a table at him and knocked him off the second-floor balcony. After a week in jail, the bosun came back half starved and full of lice. So he doesn't like Graystone.

"I don't think the girl is there," Eddie added.

At soft twilight, tide incoming, all ships riding easy at anchor, I sat on the stern of the
Conyers
with Boo, looking at the lamp and lantern lights of Bridgetown, hearing voices and laughter and music. It was awful.
My first foreign port. My first night in the tropics.
I said to Boo, "Wouldn't you know we'd end up here instead of walking around Trafalgar Square and eating fish pie?" It seemed to me that we were both doomed until we got that girl safely back to London.

I sat out there a long time, just thinking, and, about nine o'clock, a skiff made the accommodation ladder and I ran back just in time to see the bosun climb up. I was close enough to get a good whiff of rum or whiskey, not that it mattered. So he had been tippling a bit after a long, hard voyage, seeing old friends. What was wrong with that?

He eyed me and said, "Vee did it. See dat four-mastered schooner out dere..."

I couldn't see anything except some yellow anchor lights, and that didn't matter, either.

The bosun said, "De
Fräulein und
de
Hund
sail in two days. She goes to Baltimore."

Spirits soaring, I asked, "How did you do it?"

He laughed and waved a hand as if it were nothing. "Vee did it," he repeated, and weaved on toward the afterhouse companionway.