by Joan Aiken
Indeed Pen, who found this tale almost too frightening to contemplate, had already busied herself with heating some bricks in the oven for the captain’s bed, and warming one of his spare nightshirts before the fire.
‘Oh, Papa,’ she paused by him to say, ‘I am so thankful you were spared.’
He patted her head absently. ‘Is that thee, Daughter? What is thee doing on board? I thought I left thee in New Bedford.’
‘He must certainly go to bed,’ pronounced Aunt Tribulation.
‘I’ll be off home, ma’am, now I’ve seen him safe here,’ Nate said. ‘My folks live over to Polpis.’
‘But have a bite to eat first – have a hot drink!’ Dido exclaimed. ‘Try some o’ Pen’s herb tea and her pumpkin pie – it’s first-rate. And you haven’t told us what happened to the ship – did they see you thrown into the sea and picked up by the pink ’un?’
‘I guess not,’ Nate said. ‘There was considerable fog come up. Like as not if the other men gets picked up, they’ll reckon me and Cap’n Casket musta been drowned.’
‘Well you ain’t, that’s the main thing,’ Dido said. ‘Oh, Nate, your bird! Poor Mr Jenkins! Was he with you in the boat?’
‘No, no, chick, he’ll be all right,’ Nate said, laughing. ‘Reckon Uncle ’Lije’ll look after him for me till they puts back into port.’
Aunt Tribulation now bustled Captain Casket upstairs while Pen started heating a posset for him. ‘Oh, Dido!’ she whispered. ‘I’m so happy Papa has come home! For Aunt Tribulation will hardly – will hardly like to be so unkind to us while he is here.’
Dido nodded sympathetically. In fact she was by no means so easy in her mind about the situation. For a moment at first she had hoped that, if Aunt Tribulation really was an imposter, she would be exposed by Captain Casket’s failure to recognize her as his sister, but it was soon plain that he was too wandering in his wits for this to be likely. And if he continued so, Dido feared that he would have small effect on Aunt Tribulation’s sharp and bullying ways. And what would become of his promise to secure Dido a passage to England? In any case she could hardly go off and leave Pen while matters were in such a train. Her heart sank. There seemed less and less chance of her ever reaching home again.
Nate wiped his mouth and rose. ‘Thanks for the pie, it was real good,’ he said. ‘I’ll be on my way.’
‘Oh, Nate,’ Pen said earnestly, ‘I’m so grateful to you for bringing Papa safe home!’
It was the first time she had ever plucked up courage to address him directly, and Dido gave her an approving look. Nate smiled down at her.
‘That’s all right, little ’un,’ he answered awkwardly. ‘Hope he’s soon better.’
‘I’ll come out with you,’ Dido said. ‘I hain’t shut up the hens yet.’ And she muttered to Pen, ‘I’ll take the boots along to you-know-who while I’m out. If she asks where I am, say the black sow got loose and I’m chasing her. Needn’t bother about getting your letter posted now, that’s one thing.’
‘Nor we need!’ Pen said, recollecting. ‘Oh, Dido, take the poor man this sassafras candy too!’
‘I’m coming a piece of the way with you,’ Dido explained to Nate when they were outside. ‘I’ve an errand in the forest. Lucky there’s a moon behind the clouds.’
The sandy track showed up white ahead of them.
‘The forest?’ Nate said, surprised. ‘That’s a mighty queer place to have an errand.’
‘Oh, Nate!’ Dido exclaimed. ‘Everything’s queer altogether! I’m right down glad to see you, I don’t mind saying. I reckon there’s some regular havey-cavey business going on.’
‘What sort o’ business?’
‘Well,’ Dido said, ‘I don’t reckon as how things can be wuss’n they are now, so I might as well tell you the whole story.’
Which she proceeded to do, omitting nothing: the veiled lady on the ship, Mr Slighcarp and the boots, the torn-up letter, the night departure in New Bedford harbour, the mysterious visitor at the farm who had so inexplicably vanished, the footprints in the attic, the sounds in the night and the open window, and the green boots and clothes marked Letitia Slighcarp.
‘Whatever do you make of it all?’ she asked.
‘Seems as if old Slighcarp’s muxed up in it somehow, dunnit?’ Nate said. ‘He never sailed this trip, so he must be ashore somewhere.’
‘Yes, I know. Do you suppose he’s maybe lurking in these parts? But then who’s she, if she’s not Aunt Tribulation? And where’s the real Aunt Tribulation? Oh, Nate, d’you think they could have murdered her?’
‘Easy now,’ said Nate. ‘One thing at a time. You say there was a letter at Galapagos saying Auntie Trib could come to Nantucket. Maybe there was another letter, written later, saying she’s changed her mind. Maybe Mr Slighcarp read that one and tore it up.’
‘Yes, but why?’
‘Why, you chucklehead, so’s he could put the stowaway lady in Aunt Trib’s place. She must be some kin of his, his wife or sister.’
‘The second letter had sprung open with the damp, I remember now,’ Dido said. ‘That could be it. Croopus, Nate, ain’t you clever! She must be Letitia M. Slighcarp, and old foxy-face is skulking somewheres round about, coming to see her when we’re outa the way.’ She chuckled. ‘He musta got locked in that night when I put the keys under my pillow, and had to climb out the window. He musta been in the house the whole time. No wonder the old gal wasn’t over-and-above pleased to see Cap’n Casket come home! No wonder she thought he was a tramp at fust! She’d never met him before. Mr Slighcarp musta brought her here while we was still in New Bedford with Cousin Ann. But what’s the point o’ lodging her here? Someone’d be sure to rumble her in the end.’
‘It surely is a puzzle,’ Nate said. ‘But wait a minute, wait! Old Slighcarp had to leave England and skedaddle abroad in a hurry because he’d been plotting against the king, and the militia was after him. Maybe it’s the same with her. Maybe she had to skip quick, and when he saw this chance he grabbed it. We was several days off the English coast. That would explain why old man Slighcarp was so powerful keen to follow the pink whale round thataway, if he knew Miss Slighcarp wanted picking up.’
‘Of course! That must be it! But what’ll us do now?’
‘Well,’ Nate said, ‘I s’pose the best would be to get holt o’ the real Aunt Tribulation. But you still haven’t told me why you’re going to the forest.’
‘That’s summat quite different. Pen met a rummy little cove there, camping beside a big iron pipe, and he asked her to get him some boots and candy. He gave her three English guineas and said he was soon going back to Europe. I was curious about him; I reckoned I’d go along to see was there a chance of my getting a berth on his ship. Reckon this changes things, though; I can’t lope off till it’s settled about Auntie Trib.’ She gave a deep sigh.
‘It seems to me,’ Nate said, ‘as how this man must be connected with old Slighcarp. Else what is he doing, camped in the middle o’ Nantucket?’
‘Maybe so. Pen said he was scared stiff o’ summat. He told her to whisper, and to croak like a night-heron when she came to meet him.’ Dido chuckled at the thought of Pen trying to imitate a night-heron. ‘Maybe he’s scared of old Slighcarp?’
‘I dunno what to make of it,’ said Nate. ‘Hadn’t I better stay with you while you give him the boots? Sounds a mite chancy to me.’
‘Done,’ said Dido promptly. ‘Maybe you’ll be able to smoke his lay. But you better glide along kind of cagey in case he sheers off when he sees there’s two of us.’
‘Where was you meeting him?’
‘At the fork in the track.’
‘That’s only half a mile now.’ Nate sank his voice to a whisper. ‘You keep on the track and I’ll slide alongside in the brishes.’
Dido nodded. He slipped into shelter and she went on at a good pace, but walking as silently as she could on the sandy path.
When she reached the fork, easily visible in the cloud-filtere
d moonlight, she squatted down by a wild plum thicket, cupped her hands round her mouth, and let out a gentle croak. This was answered almost at once, and somebody moved out of the thicket. It was not possible to see him very clearly, but Dido recognized the small, bald man of Pen’s description.
‘Is it little kindgirl?’ he whispered. ‘You boots with?’
‘Yus,’ Dido whispered back. ‘I brung ’em.’
‘But you are unsame child!’ Alarm and suspicion could be heard in his voice.
‘I’m her friend, guvnor,’ Dido reassured him. ‘She was a-seeing to her pa and couldn’t come out. Sorry we ain’t been before – it warn’t so easy to get aholt o’ the boots. This here’s candy.’
‘Ah, miracle, nobleness! All the time is only to eat fish, fish, fish! You are a heaven-sentness,’ he whispered. His language was both guttural and hissing; Dido found it very hard to follow. He was already sitting in a bayberry bush and pulling on the boots with little grunts of satisfaction. ‘Gumskruttz! Forvandel! Zey are of a fittingness! I am all obligation.’
He fervently kissed Dido’s hand, much to her astonishment, dropped his old shoes in the bush, then, whispering, ‘Plotslakk! Momentness – I bring you –’ vanished back into the thicket. Almost at once he reappeared, thrust a prickly, wriggling bundle into Dido’s arms, tried to kiss her hand again, thought better of it, said urgently, ‘Each nat will be a bringness. Hommens. For you. If you bring kaken?’
‘Kaken?’
‘Pankaken. Appelskaken. Siggerkaken.’
‘Cakes,’ Dido guessed. ‘I’ll try,’ she whispered.
‘Is good, noblechild! Wunderboots! Blisscandy! I say good nat.’
Before she could stop him, he faded into the bush as if something had startled him. ‘Hey!’ Dido whispered as loud as she dared. ‘Mister! Come back!’
But he was gone.
After a few moments Nate rose soundlessly out of the shrubs where he had been lying, almost at Dido’s feet.
‘Well,’ she whispered. ‘What did you make of that lot? And what in tarnation’s he given me?’
‘Lobsters.’ Nate identified the wriggling mass. ‘Big ’uns too. He was a rum job, wasn’t he?’
‘One thing’s for certain –’ Dido was disappointed – ‘he ain’t English. Pen was right. Dear knows what peg-legged lingo that was he spoke.’
‘I’d sure like to know what he’s doing in Nantucket,’ Nate muttered. ‘Up to no good, I bet. I’ve a good mind to nip into the forest and scout around.’
‘Oh, yes, Nate, let’s!’
‘Not you, chick. It wants smart scout-work. One’s enough.’
‘I can snibble along jist as quiet as you!’ Dido said, hurt. They argued about it in whispers; Dido was so insistent on coming that in the end Nate was obliged to give way.
Proceeding with the utmost caution they crept towards the forest. The ground began to slope steeply downhill and presently they were in the shelter of the trees where, as it was much darker, they had to go forward very slowly, one step at a time.
Nate, who was a couple of paces ahead, suddenly let out a stifled grunt.
‘What’s up?’ breathed Dido, coming alongside.
‘Nearly busted my nose on the tarnal thing. Must be the pipe,’ he muttered. ‘We’d best follow it.’
They turned at right angles and stole along beside the pipe, slowly and carefully, Nate still in the lead. Presently he paused. A faint light showed ahead and voices could be heard. Dido moved up as close behind Nate as she could and peered past him. The lobsters which she still carried nipped the hand that Nate had put out to check her and he let out a hiss of protest.
‘Mind, stoopid!’
‘Sorry!’
They could dimly see a small log hut. A fire burnt in front of it and three or four men were gathered round talking in low voices.
‘Where’s the old professor gone?’ one of them said.
‘Oh, he likes to mooch about the wood on his own in the evening. He’s everlasting on the lookout for the black-crowned night-heron or some sich foolishness. He’s all right, don’t fret about him, he won’t go far.’
‘I’d rather he stayed in camp, just the same.’
With a start, Dido recognized this voice as Mr Slighcarp’s. She gave Nate’s shin a gentle kick. He nodded.
‘When’s the Dark Diamond due?’ another voice asked.
‘Any day now.’
‘Thank the lord. I can justabout do with a decent smoke. I’m cheesed-off with smoking peat and eating shellfish. Will the ship wait and take us off at the same time’s she leaves the charge and shot?’
‘Depends on how the professor makes out. If he can finish before she gets here, fine; we can blast off and then clear out.’
‘What about your sister?’
‘Take her too, o’ course.’
‘But ain’t she wanted over there?’
‘Well, so are most of us wanted, aren’t we?’ Mr Slighcarp said impatiently. ‘But don’t you see, things’ll be different in England by the time we get back?’
‘Oh, ah, so they will. O’ course. I’d forgot. But, say, how’ll we know? Suppos’n old Breadno makes a mistake? We don’t want to go sailing over and put our heads into a hank-noose and end up on Tyburn!’
‘We’ll sail to Hanover first, dunderhead! The news will have reached them by then.’
‘Aye, that would be best,’ the other voice agreed gloomily. ‘I does so long to get my chops round a bit o’ British bubble-and-squeak.’
‘Bubble-and-squeak! It’ll be roast goose and champagne when you get it, cully!’
‘I’m going to look for the professor,’ Mr Slighcarp said uneasily. He rose to his feet.
At this moment one of the lobsters Dido carried, which had been squirming more and more vigorously, escaped from her grip and fell into a bush. She grabbed it.
‘Hark! What was that?’ Mr Slighcarp said, turning sharply.
‘It’s only the professor, guvnor, here he comes.’
By a great piece of good fortune the man to whom Dido had given the boots – apparently the professor referred to – stepped into the clearing at this moment.
‘Hey there, Professor Breadno, see some good night birds?’
‘We’re all justabout night birds if you ask me,’ yawned one of the men. ‘I’m going to turn in.’
Dido kicked at Nate’s shin again and began to step delicately backwards. She was apprehensive of another accident with the lobsters. Nate waited for a few more minutes before following, but presently joined her on the edge of the forest.
‘Did you hear any more?’ she breathed.
‘Nope. They were asking the prof where he got his boots and he said he found ’em in a bog.’
‘I wonder if they’ll believe him. What a parcel of peevy coves, eh? Regular mill-kens.’
‘I still can’t make out what they’re at,’ Nate said, as they hurried silently back to the path. ‘They seem to be Hanoverians, that’s plain, but what the mischief are they doing in Nantucket? We ain’t got none o’ your fancy kings over here, a plain president’s good enough for us.’
‘It’s plumb mysterious,’ Dido agreed. ‘Tell you what, though, I’ll take the little professor cove some cakes – if I can slip past old Mortification – and try to get a bit more outa him. Supposin’ I can make out what he means.’
‘I’m glad I came back home,’ Nate said. ‘I think it’s downright rusty the way these lowdown deadbeats make themselves at home in our island, and whatever deviltry they’re plotting, I think they ought to be rousted out someway.’
‘I’m agreeable,’ Dido said. ‘Specially if Aunt Tribulation’s one of ’em. I allus thought she was a no-good. What d’you think we ought to do, Nate?’
‘I’ll think, and let you know. I’ll stay home for a piece, anyhow. My Ma’ll be quite glad to have me minding the sheep and helping with the chores. I won’t try to get another ship till the Sarah Casket comes back. I’d sooner ship with Cap’n Casket, wh
en he’s better, I’m used to him.’
‘If he gets better,’ Dido said doubtfully. ‘If he don’t I reckon I’m stuck here for life.’
‘Well there’s plenty wuss places than Nantucket you could be stuck in.’
As they were by now a good way from the forest, Nate burst into song:
‘I’ll tend to my lambkins in pasture and grove
A shepherd I’ll be and daylong will I rove;
In the isle of Nantucket I’ll finish my days
A-following my sheep and a-watching them graze.’
‘I do wonder what those scallions is up to,’ Dido speculated.
‘Well, whatever it is, it’s bad business. I’ll tell you one thing, chick.’
‘What’s that?’
‘That there pipe of Pen’s ain’t no pipe but a gun – and it’s the longest gun I ever laid eyes on!’
‘Croopus!’ said Dido. ‘That’s why the ship’s coming with powder and shot. But who’re they going to shoot, d’you reckon?’
‘Search me. But whoever it is, they’ve gotter be stopped.’
8
Captain Casket’s illness – Dido sees the doctor – the professor in the bog – an abominable plot – Aunt Tribulation overhears
TO DIDO’S SURPRISE and concern there were still lights burning in the farm as she approached. Surely it was long past the usual hour for bedtime? Did this mean that Aunt Tribulation had seen through Pen’s story of the straying sow and was waiting up to conduct an inquiry? Prudently, she hid the pair of lobsters in a bush lest they should lead to questions.
When Dido walked into the kitchen, however, she saw at once that the unusual wakefulness was not on her account. The stove was roaring, a large black kettle steamed, Pen was anxiously heating a poultice, while Aunt Tribulation, with a grim expression, aired blankets, nightcaps, and chest-protectors before the fire.
