Part 6 (2/2)

Polly turned to her. 'We may need an ally in the enemy camp.' She looked back at the unhappy Algernon. 'And I think we've found one.' She nudged him with the dirk.

'Right, Algernon?'

'It's sheer b-b-blackmail,' sputtered Algernon.

'You got that one right,' said Polly, 'that's what it is.'

She turned. 'Come on, Kirsty, we'd better get out of here before his men get back. Sit up, Algy dear.' Polly helped Algernon to a sitting position then, standing lightly on his knee and shoulder, she swung herself gracefully over the top of the pit, then turned and helped Kirsty out the same way.

She looked down at Algernon. 'Don't worry, they won't be long, I'm sure. And we'll be looking out for you in Inverness. Don't forget.'

The last thing Algernon heard was Polly's light laugh rippling back as the two girls scampered away down the hillside.

The Sea Eagle was one of the finest inns in the town of Inverness. It had been built largely for the occupying English soldiers who had one of their main fortresses at Inverness, and was a large handsome timbered building, unlike the low thick-walled cottages that usually pa.s.sed for inns in the highlands of Scotland.

Solicitor Grey, his clerk Perkins, and a heavily-built ruffian in seaman's clothes, Henry Trask, was with them.

Captain Trask, as he styled himself, was master of the brig Annabelle Annabelle. A one-time pirate gunrunner and smuggler, Trask's hard nature showed on his face. It was deeply lined with a livid scar running across the forehead, and pock-marked with a blue powder mark left by the unpredictable guns of the period which often blew up in a man's face.

Right now, Trask, who'd obviously been drinking there was an empty wine bottle on its side in front of him, and a full flagon at his lips was in a raucous good humour. 'Well, lawyer,' he said, 'my old cattleboat's ready for its livestock. Eh?' He roared with laughter, and Perkins beside him gave a mild, conciliatory t.i.tter in reply. The half-drunk Trask, always quick to take offence, stopped laughing immediately and glared at him. 'Belay there.'

Perkins's laugh cut off abruptly. 'What in thunder do you think you're laughing at?'

'N-n-nothing,' said Perkins, beginning to stammer nervously. But Grey leaned across the table, his face serious.

'It won't be a laughing matter for any of us if we are caught, I a.s.sure you. That is why we must start loading the prisoners tonight.'

Beside him, Perkins, relieved to have Trask's attention diverted, nodded and repeated Grey's last words. 'Yes, tonight,' he said.

'By the time the King's judges are ready to try the rebels, we shall have them safely on the plantations,'

continued Grey.

Trask leaned forward, nodding his great head. 'Aye,' he said. 'A Highlander will do twice the work of one of your black slaves.'

Perkins smirked. 'At least twice,' he said.

Trask immediately turned on him. 'Who asked for your opinion?'

Perkins, snubbed again, shrank back from the fearsome-looking captain, but Grey interposed and rapped the table with his snuffbox. 'Silence, Captain,' he said. 'I won't have my clerk bullied in this way.'

Then as Trask scowled in his direction, he leaned forward, his eyes searching the seaman's face. 'I have enough evidence on you to send you to the gallows ten times over. Don't forget it.'

For a moment Trask rose in his chair and seemed about to throttle the quiet-spoken lawyer. Then, the steely intensity of the solicitor's unflinching gaze made him uneasy and he slumped back, dropping his eyes and reaching for the wine flagon.

There was a knock at the door. 'Come in,' Grey called.

The door opened and the sentry stuck his head round.

'Well?' said Grey.

'It's one of the prisoners, Sir. He insists on seeing you.

Says he's got some special information about a plot on the Duke's life.'

'Why come to me?'

'He won't talk to anyone but you, Sir,' said the sentry.

'Which prisoner is it?' said Grey.

'The German doctor, Sir.'

Grey looked puzzled for a moment, and then his face cleared. 'Ah, interesting,' he said. 'Bring him up to me at once.'

The sentry saluted, but made no move to go.

'Well man, what are you waiting for?' Still the sentry stood there immobile, his eyes staring straight ahead.

'Ahh,' Grey sighed and turned to his clerk. 'Perkins,' he said.

Perkins rather reluctantly felt in his waistcoat pocket and brought out two coins. He selected the smaller and gave it to the sentry. The sentry took it and looked at it for a moment in disgust, then exited.

Grey turned back to Trask. 'Now, Captain,' he continued, 'I suggest you start loading the prisoners.' He turned to a small leather case beside him on the table, opened it and brought out an imposing-looking parchment doc.u.ment with ribbons and large seals attached. 'Here is your warrant. To save comment, bring them through the back way.' The door opened, and the Doctor entered, followed by the sentry. Grey looked back at the Captain.

'Right, and you go with him, Perkins.' Trask nodded, rose and, followed by Perkins, walked to the door, watched carefully by the Doctor.

Grey opened the leather case once more and brought out a small, silver-mounted flintlock pistol. He looked at it for a moment and then put it down on the table in front of him, then nodded to the sentry. 'You may go, man.' The sentry saluted and left the room. Grey turned back to the Doctor.

'Now Doctor,' he said. 'Your story. Let us hope it is an entertaining one. It cost me a silver s.h.i.+lling. What is the nature of this plot?'

The Doctor looked at him for a moment and then shrugged and started picking his teeth. 'There is no plot,'

he said carelessly.

For a moment Grey looked surprised, then his face darkened. 'Be careful, Doctor, how you waste my time. I can have every inch of skin flayed off your back just by a snap of my fingers.'

The Doctor held his hand up and started examining his nails, speaking casually over his shoulder. 'Would the chance to lay hands on 15,000 be a waste of your time?'

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