Wilkes quietly slipped a few more coins into the hands of those with intimate knowledge of the abbey in Limerick, which turned up only wild goose chases — until he made contact with the starving choirmaster. That old man informed him that the text he was searching for had been hidden in the abbey, but word was out that someone had been enquiring about it. It had been removed from its hiding place only the previous night, and it was on its way south. Where, he couldn’t be sure.
Wilkes immediately travelled south and put on his payroll a dozen hungry altar boys, all of whom had access to Ireland’s large abbeys and cathedrals. Their job was to try and listen in on private conversations. If they heard the word “Brotherhood” or witnessed any unscheduled meetings, they were to remember as many details as possible of those meetings and then report back to him. The size of their reward would depend on the quality of the information returned.
After waiting nearly two weeks, the big break had finally come that morning. Out of breath, an altar boy banged on his inn door. While working at Cork Cathedral that evening, he had followed a visiting priest deep into the catacombs and managed to get close enough to a secret meeting to hear the words “Brotherhood,” “key,” and “text.” It seemed that a young priest had to travel quickly across the ocean to Canada and return with his brother or with a text that was important to the Brotherhood that he had taken with him. Pleased with the news, the young lad was rewarded with a few coins and then sworn to secrecy. Wilkes immediately started to pack his gear and told the boy to meet him on the pier later that morning.
The lad met Wilkes near the shipping line ticket offices and Wilkes offered to double the reward if the boy could identify the young man who had attended the meeting in the catacombs of Cork Cathedral.
“I’m pretty sure I can,” the boy said, climbing up on a crate. “I got a good look at him as he left.”
Hours passed. The sun was lowering in the sky and Wilkes was starting to have his doubts that they would find their young priest. The crowds were still huge and the light was dimming. Would he have to attack the problem from a different angle if the priest somehow slipped through his fingers? He was pondering the possibilities when the boy’s hand started rapping him hard on the shoulder.
“There he is, sir!” he shouted, pointing. “That’s him, I’m sure of it!”
Wilkes followed the finger to a tall young man dressed in travelling attire, talking to a sailor at the bow of the nearest ship.
“He’s not dressed like a priest,” countered Wilkes.
The lad remained confident. “Then he must have changed. I’m sure that’s him.”
“Good lad,” he smiled. “You’ve earned this.”
He handed the boy more money than he could have made in a month.
“Thank you, sir!” He grinned as he climbed down off the crates.
“And don’t forget to keep listening. There may be more rewards for you yet.”
Lifting his expensive leather suitcase off the ground, Jonathon Wilkes kept an eye on the young man who was now boarding a Western Star clipper. Wilkes approached the Western Star Shipping Lines ticket office and purchased a ticket. Making his way through the crowd, Wilkes followed the young man up the gangplank and onto the deck of the Independence. The moustached officer asked for his ticket.
“First class, Mr. Wilkes. Welcome aboard the Independence. Please, follow me to your cabin.”
For the next week, Jamie left his berth only to obtain the occasional meal. He tried to ignore the increasingly violent ocean swells by concentrating on the books about Canada East and Canada West, the two halves of the United Province of Canada. He pored over Canadian historical records and maps lent to him by the church, and which were now scattered across his modest desk and over the floor. With study, he hoped to prepare himself for whatever might lie ahead in this foreign land.
Jamie had difficulty comprehending the numbers that lay in front of him. Canada was simply huge. Several Irelands could fit into just Canada East alone. And not everyone spoke the same languages. The French were the first settlers in the new land and had colonized an area along the banks of a great river named the St. Lawrence. This French-speaking land was now known as Canada East. The British were the second to settle. They built up ports along the Atlantic coast as well as further inland, on the shores of an impossibly large lake named Ontario. The land north of Lake Ontario became Canada West while the south shore marked the border of the United States of America. Jamie knew that both his ship and the Carpathia were destined for Quebec City. Quebec City was in Canada East and Jamie was thankful for the French lessons he’d received in France. With a little luck, he would quickly find his brother in this port town, and together they would return to Ireland.
Suddenly, a monstrous swell sent the nose of the ship heavenward. Before Jamie could react, his books slid off the table and crashed onto the floor. He held his balance until the ship veered sharply downwards. Losing his footing, he cartwheeled sideways and crashed hard into the wooden bulkhead. Dazed, Jamie could hear shouting from the deck above. He managed to open the door and stagger out of the cabin. The hallway resembled a river as water rippled around his ankles. Water this far in could only mean one thing — the ship was in trouble.
He made his way to the deck hatchway, holding on to the railing for balance. When he opened the hatch, rain lashed his body furiously. The officer with the thick moustache was leaning into the wind, trying to make his way towards the bow.
“Are we in trouble, sir?” yelled Jamie, over the howling wind.
The officer protected his eyes with his free hand. “Aye, that we are! We just took a giant rogue wave to the bow. There might be some damage below decks. Keep that door closed! We don’t want any more water inside the hull!”
“Can I help?” asked Jamie.
The officer sized him up then nodded. “All right. We might need your young arms. Close the hatch and follow me, but whatever you do, don’t let go of this rope!”
Jamie nodded, stepped out into the lashing gale, and closed the hatch behind him. The wind tore at them relentlessly, trying to throw the men into the frothing sea. Hanging on to the guide rope for dear life, they finally slipped and crawled their way to the bow and the forward hatch. The officer unlatched it and a gust nearly tore it off its hinges. Jamie quickly shut the hatch behind them and then followed the officer into the descending darkness. The steep stairs took them deep into the hull of the creaking, rolling ship. Baying livestock filled the first deck. Penned cows, goats, and chickens lined either side of the forward hull. Heavy crates of goods were lashed to the floor.
“Are the crates centred for balance?” Jamie asked as they made their way to the next ladder.
“Aye,” agreed the officer, “and it’s a good thing they’re lashed down. If the cargo had shifted when that wave hit, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
They continued their descent. They arrived at the lowest deck, where the curve of the hull flattened into the bottom of the ship. The sight that greeted Jamie instantly appalled him. Hundreds of people were packed into the immense, dreary chamber. Cries of hunger were punctuated with moans of pain. Jamie noticed the iron rings still hanging from the walls from the ship’s earlier slavery runs to Africa. He wondered if the trip could have been any worse for those slaves than the sorry sight meeting his eyes at this very moment. And if this was good, according to the sailor back in Cork, how much worse could it possibly be on board the Carpathia?
“Fourth class?” asked Jamie.
The officer glanced at the sea of humanity. “Aye, fourth class. Follow me. We need to get to the pumps.”
They waded through the sickness, coughs, and human fluids that filled the belly of the hold until they reached a set of hand-held pump handles. There were two other sailors already working the seesaw-like mechanism. Water could be heard sloshing through the attached pipes. The officer grabbed the opposite handle and nodded at Jamie to take the nearest one.
“Well done, lads,” said the officer. “Let’s head topside for a spot of tea.”
Officer Keates started to lead the men aft when the ship suddenly lurched hard to the side. Everyone was thrown off their feet. Children screamed as parents reached frantically for flailing arms. A large crack reverberated through the ship. Water began to spray out from a hull plank just above the pumps. As the ship slowly righted itself, the crew looked on in horror.
“My God,” cried one of the sailors, “Officer Keates, if that plank goes, we’re done for!”
“Quick, run to the captain and tell him what’s happening. Get him to send down a repair crew immediately!”
“Aye, sir!” The sailor ran up the stairs.
“It may be too late by the time they make it down,” lamented Officer Keates, as water sprayed through in torrents.
Jamie looked around the hold. He spied a stack of lumber under the stairs.
“Are those planks?” shouted Jamie.
“Aye, for making the fourth-class berths.”
“And did I see an axe in the cargo hold above us?”
He looked to the young man. “Yes, in case of a fire.”
“Go and grab the axe. I have an idea!”
The officer looked at the young man suspiciously, but Jamie Galway had an air of authority about him that seemed beyond his age. Without any other recourse until the repair crew arrived, Officer Keates ran for the stairwell. Ignoring the mounting panic of the passengers surrounding them, Jamie grabbed the last remaining sailor and together they pushed their way through to the stack of timber. He eyed the pile and grabbed a thick beam that seemed to be the right length.
“Grab some extra pieces of wood about the same size!” he commanded. The sailor, twice Jamie’s age, didn’t argue. Together, they heaved the wood back to the spraying sea water. It was getting worse. Jamie took his piece of lumber and wedged it against a rib in the flooring and then leaned it into the spray. With grim determination, he threw that aside, grabbed another longer piece from the sailor, tossed that aside too, then tried a third. Officer Keates returned with the fire axe. Jamie dropped the wood, took the axe, strode through the spray, and drove its blade into the heart of the buckling plank in the hull.
“Are you mad?” Officer Keates screamed as Jamie splintered out a chunk of wood from the plank. “You’ll destroy the entire plank!”
“He’ll sink us all!” shouted another.
Officer Keates grabbed the handle of the axe and yanked it away from Jamie. Jamie didn’t seem to mind as he reached down and picked up the last piece of wood he had dropped and again wedged it down against the thick rib on the ship’s floor. He then lowered the top of the timber until it rested against the spray gushing out over the top of the stricken plank. The freezing sea water thoroughly soaked Jamie as he backed into the spray, took hold of the top of the piece of wood, and heaved downwards.
“That won’t do any good,” yelled one of the fathers, now seeing what he was up to. “The water’s coming in too fast!”
“Do you want your families to see the shores of Canada?” Jamie hollered over the roar of the sea and the cries of the frightened crowd. “Grab hold and help me!”
“Come on, men!” shouted Officer Keates, wading into the icy spray and grabbing an edge of the board. “Let’s do what the lad says!”
Jamie wrapped both arms around the top of the timber. Officer Keates, followed by his men, grabbed on as well. They all heaved down on the makeshift beam, but the pressure of the ocean water coming in was simply too great.
“Pull down with all you have!” shouted Jamie. It made no difference. The ocean poured in relentlessly.
“Everyone!” Jamie pleaded to the gathered crowd. “Grab on to this beam and help us pull!”
At first, the frightened crowd remained frozen, but then, a boy no older than ten ran up beside Jamie and grabbed on. The boy’s father waded up and joined him. Several of the mothers then stepped into the water and grabbed hold. Suddenly, with shouts of growing encouragement, dozens of hands grabbed on to the timber, so many that large sections of the wood could no longer be seen.
“All together now! Heave!” Jamie screamed.
The tremendous tug suddenly jolted the wood along the wet surface until its edge slipped neatly into Jamie’s newly hacked V-shaped groove. There was a tremendous whoop from the passengers as the gushing sea water was reduced to a thin spray. Jamie was suddenly in the centre of a swirling hurricane of hugs, kisses, and congratulatory rufflings of his sopping hair from the ecstatic passengers and crew.
The repair crew finally arrived among the revellers. The chief admired Jamie’s work of engineering before setting out to complete a more permanent repair to the ship’s hull.
Officer Keates managed to pry Jamie away from the admiring crowd.
“Let’s get you back up top and dried off,” Keates shouted above the hoopla.
Together they weaved their way through the crowd. Several young women blew Jamie kisses as he passed.
“Now how did you come up with that idea?” asked the officer as they reached the first staircase.
“I just used Pythagoras’s theorem,” said Jamie, following him up. Ryan, he knew, would have been proud.
Officer Keates shot him a strange glance. “A Greek trick? Well, whatever you want to call it, lad, I’m just glad it worked. Well done! I’d say this calls for a drink.”
As they neared the hatch, a voice shouted out from the crowd.
“Jamie! Jamie Galway!”
For a moment, Jamie’s heart leaped in hope that it was his brother calling out to him. He scanned the mass of people until his eyes came to rest on the face of a familiar man. It was the husband of the family that had been ahead of him when he’d boarded the ship.
“Thank you for saving my family, Jamie,” he said, making his way to the bottom of the stairs. “What you did over there was simply brilliant.”
Officer Keates gave Jamie an elbow in the ribs. “It appears that you have now reached hero status among the passengers, Mr. Galway.”
In the distance, Jamie could see the rest of the man’s family waving to him from their tiny, filthy berth near the curve of the wooden bow. As he waved back and climbed the final steps, Jamie couldn’t help but feel the children’s haunted stares follow him to the heaven-like cleanliness that waited for him above.
Chapter 4
The storm slowly slid to the east and the stricken ship entered calmer waters, allowing a celebration dinner in the captain’s quarters to take place later on that evening. Officer Keates enjoyed retelling the story of the way Jamie had used an ancient Greek formula to help save the ship from going down to Davy Jones’s locker. Captain O’Malley, in full formal attire, nodded appreciatively at the young man and then raised his glass of wine in Jamie’s honour.
“To Jamie Galway. Consider yourself an honourary member of my crew.”
The rest of the officers joined in and raised their glasses. “Here! Here!”
“This meal is more than thanks enough,” Jamie said, smiling, while shaking a drumstick in one hand. “I haven’t had a meal this good in months.”
Captain O’Malley smiled. “I’ll be sure to send your compliments to the cook. Now, tell us why you’re making the long crossing to Canada?”
The question made Jamie’s appetite waver. He put the drumstick back on the plate. “I’m heading to Canada to search for my brother. Two weeks ago, he was beaten and knocked unconscious in a skirmish outside of Cork. He was then thrown onto the Carpathia, which set sail for Canada before I could rescue him. I’m hoping t
o catch up with him in Quebec City and bring him home.”
The officers gave one another a knowing glance. Captain O’Malley cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry to hear that your brother is aboard the Carpathia. It’s one of the ships that have given the rest of our transatlantic vessels a very bad name. I can promise you that we will do everything in our power to travel at best speed to Quebec City.”
For the next four days, Jamie concentrated on his books in order to learn every little detail that might make the difference in finding his brother upon arrival in Canada. Jamie’s only break in his studies came when a purser, compliments of the captain, brought a hot meal to his cabin three times a day.
Jamie couldn’t help but think how Canada’s political situation was actually quite similar to the one he had just left in Ireland. Great Britain was the controlling power in a country in which only a small portion of the population was actually English. Were the people living in Canada being treated as poorly by the British government as were the people of Ireland? Did Canadians also dream of one day ruling their own land?
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door.
“Come in.”
Officer Keates stepped through the doorway. His sombre expression immediately told Jamie something was wrong.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Galway.”
Jamie pushed away the maps and books. “What’s wrong?”
“The Independence is once again in trouble.”
Jamie stood up, alarmed. “Why? What has happened?”
“A severe outbreak of typhoid fever has occurred among the fourth-class passengers. It has spread rapidly, and it’s affecting a significant number of our crew. Many are now too ill to work on deck.”
The Emerald Key Page 4
