Flight of the Grey Goose

by Victor Canning

  He lay now, exposed to the searing wind and rain squalls, in a small hollow at the top of the Hen, a hollow that was ringed with weather-worn and bird-marked rocks. On the rocks at this moment was roosting a small flock of black-headed gulls. The birds surrounded Smiler in a silent colony, heads facing the wind, their plumage tightly bedded down to take the air-slip over their bodies. Smiler lay on his face, the rucksack still on his back, and two gulls were perched on the rucksack. It was not surprising that Jock Mackay had not spotted him. From the loch all that could be seen was a flock of gulls sheltering on the rocks.

  There was a large bruise on Smiler’s right temple and a cut on his left cheek which had ceased bleeding though the rain still kept the wound open and raw. Smiler, after long hours of unconsciousness, was now sleeping and dreaming. In his dream he was out on a sunlit, cloud-shadowed autumn loch in a boat fishing while Laura lazed in the stem with her back to a silent outboard motor. He was playing a sea-trout, the taut line singing from the reel, when from behind him he heard the thudthud, of a heavy motor boat engine. He looked round but there was nothing behind him except Laura, her hair teased by the wind, her brown face smiling at him, and a wide stretch of empty water.

  It was at this moment, as Jock Mackay’s boat was two hundred yards away, heading down the loch, that Smiler opened his eyes and rolled over to his side and groaned. Immediately the flock of gulls went up from around him in a wild, white explosion, calling and screaming in fright.

  Slowly Smiler sat up and blinked his eyes to clear them. Rain and wind swept into his face blinding him for a moment. Then the squall passed and he saw the dark shape of the motor boat on the heaving, steely waters moving fast away down the loch. To his ears came the regular thud, thud of the motor which he had known in his dream.

  Smiler flexed his arms and became aware of the heavy rucksack on his back. Awkwardly he slipped it off, every muscle in his body stiff and sore, his head throbbing sharply each time he moved it. He looked down at himself and saw that he was wearing just shirt and trousers and was barefooted. A sudden shivering fit passed through him and his body trembled as though it would never stop until he clenched his teeth and flexed his muscles to halt it.

  He gave another groan and then tried to remember what had happened. Slowly it all came back to him. He had smashed the centre thwart to free the rowing boat and had gone out into the bay using his plank paddle. He had heard the Skipper and the Chief Mate shouting behind him. As he had reached the limit of the bay and the current and wild sea had taken him eastwards, he had seen a torch dancing on the jetty. Then it had moved, pitching and swaying, out towards him and he had known that the two men were after him. Beyond that he remembered nothing.

  Long after Smiler’s boat had capsized, the two men had continued their search for him – but the high seas and howling winds had eventually forced them to look to their own safely. Angry and frustrated they had run for the eastern end of the loch and beached their boat for Willy McAufee to take over. By morning they were miles away in the hills heading for Fort William.

  With the gulls crying and circling above him Smiler now stood up unsteadily, swaying in the force of the wind. He knew that he was on the Hen. He looked towards the castle away over the angry waters and it was suddenly blotted from his sight by driving rain.

  Smiler sat down. Samuel M., he thought, you can’t just sit here. You’ve got to do something. The rain squall cleared and he saw the castle again. This time he noticed that the flag now flew from the top of the mast. That meant that someone had come up during the night. His body shook with a shivering fit again and his head throbbed. He had to do something, had to get off the Hen before he passed out again. The castle disappeared in the rain but the picture of the flag stayed in his mind. Somebody had answered his signal last night. ‘What you want now, Samuel M.,’ he said aloud, ‘is a signal too.’ He considered this for a while and then stiffly and awkwardly, began to make his way down from the rock. He knew exactly what he was looking for.

  Fifteen minutes later Smiler was on the point of the Hen nearest the castle island. On the beach he had found a six-foot length of bare oak branch which had been washed ashore. He had fastened his shirt to it by the sleeves to make a rough flag. He sat now on the highest rock he could find, naked to the waist in the buffeting wind and rain, holding his flag aloft. Every now and then his body shook with a spasm of shivering. In the end, exhausted from holding the flag aloft against the tearing wind, Smiler searched around and found a crevice into which he could jam the end of the branch. He wedged rocks around it, too, to keep it in position. Then, feeling ill and completely done-in, he could not stop himself from lying down. In a few moments he was gone from the world in sleep.

  If the gale had kept up for the rest of that day things might have gone very badly for Smiler. He was in no shape to pass another night on the Hen. But, in mid-afternoon, the rain stopped and the wind eased down to a steady, firm blow. The shirt flag flew steadily above Smiler who lay sleeping, turning and groaning in his dreams.

  On the castle island Laura, trying not to think about Smiler but not succeeding, went about her chores. She had fed and watered all the animals during the morning and then had spent some time tidying up in the castle. In the afternoon when the rain stopped and the gale eased she went into the meadow to milk Mrs Brown.

  As she came back she looked out over the loch towards the Hen and Chickens and caught sight of something fluttering. The next moment she had put down her milk pail and was running for the castle.

  She got the Laird’s field glasses from his study, focused them on the Hen, and saw the shirt flying from its crooked staff and something huddled under it.

  With a great surge of hope welling in her heart, she ran for the jetty and her boat She started the motor and cast off. Bacon came racing down the jetty and jumped into the boat with her, barking furiously.

  As the boat swept out into the bay Laura said aloud, ‘Please God, let it be him. And if it is –’ her jaw firmed angrily ‘– no matter if Jock Mackay is my father, he’ll hear from me about not searching the Hen properly!’

  When Smiler awoke he saw at once that Laura was in the room. She was sitting at the window, resting one elbow on the sill and looking out. Against the pale evening sky her profile was etched sharply, and a faint breeze through the half open window stirred her long hair. Although he felt weak and drained, he lay contentedly, just looking at her and feeling a warmth in himself grow because she was there. Never in his life had he been more thankful than when he had seen her boat come tossing towards the point of the Hen. When she had rushed up to him and hugged her arms around him he could do no more than just shiver and tremble against her and say her name over and over.

  She had brought him back to the castle, seen him to bed and had wedged him around with three hot water bottles. Then she had brought him hot milk and made him take some aspirins. When he had wanted to talk, she had shaken her head severely. He was asleep within seconds of finishing his milk.

  Through the window now he could hear the call of pigeons and the cry of gulls. An early star showed in the pale oblong of sky and he knew that the wind and rain had gone, that the fierce gale was over. Putting his hand up to his cheek he realized that she had stuck a strip of plaster over his wound while he had slept. His head still ached a little and the bruise on his forehead had come up in a large bump. His body felt as though every muscle had been over-stretched on a rack.

  Slowly, sensing that he was awake, Laura turned her head and smiled at him. She got up and came across to the bed. Without a word she knelt down and took his hand. With an instinctive, unthinking movement she leaned forward and rested her cheek against his. Smiler had never known a moment like it before in his life. He had the feeling that not only was he safe for ever, but that he could never be lonely or afraid in his life ever again.

  Without a word they stayed like that for a while. Then Laura suddenly stood up and turned away from him so that he could not see her face.r />
  Smiler said, ‘It’s all right, Laura. And I’m all right too.’ Then, his voice rising, he went on, ‘And do you know – Laggy flew! When the Skipper fired his gun he just took off. Right across the bay, flap, flap and up and away down the loch. Holy Crikeys, it was really something to see!’

  Laura turned back, her face composed now, and asked, ‘Who’s the Skipper?’

  ‘Oh, I forgot. ’Course you don’t know about him. And the Chief Mate.’

  Laura said with unexpected primness, ‘ There’s a lot I don’t know – and there’s a lot I’ve got to know. But if you think you’re going to tell me now, Sammy, you’ve got another think coming. You don’t do or say a thing until you’ve got some decent food into you.’

  Smiler gave her a grin and said, ‘ You sound just like a nurse in a hospital.’

  ‘Aye, and that’s how I mean to sound and be until you’re your proper self again. Now, you just rest there until I get ye something.’

  ‘I’m starving,’ said Smiler. ‘What am I going to have?’

  ‘Wait and see,’ said Laura as she went to the door.

  ‘That’s what my Sister Ethel always used to say.’

  Half an hour later Laura brought him a bowl of soup and three poached eggs on toast and a dish of tinned fruit.

  While he was eating Smiler told her the story of his adventures. Laura sat on the end of the bed and listened with a severe expression on her face. Outside the night darkened and the flames of the four candles in the room wavered gently in the faint draught from the window.

  When Smiler had finished Laura said, ‘I’ve no idea who the two men could be. They fit no one around these parts. And I’ll doubt whether they’re hanging around here now. They’ve taken to their heels. But I can tell ye, if that sly loon Willy McAufee had anything to do with this he’s going to be sore sorry for himself.’

  In fairness Smiler said, ‘Well, I don’t know that he did. Only that the men had a list of the hiding places where the Laird used to keep his key.’ He slowly grinned at her and said, ‘Do you know what an Auntie Nellie is?’

  ‘No, I do not.’

  ‘Or a troubled-Harold?’

  ‘Sammy Miles, is your mind wandering?’

  ‘No. Auntie Nellie is your belly. And troubled-Harold is a double-barrelled shotgun. That’s what the Skipper called them.’

  ‘You sound as though you liked the villain.’

  ‘No, I did not. But he had a funny way of speaking. He called the jewellery tom-foolery.’ Then, with a lack of bashfulness bfulness which surprised him even as he spoke, Smiler went on, ‘Can I ask you something very private, Laura?’

  ‘How would I know until you’ve asked it?’

  ‘Well, it’s about the Elphinstone jewels. The Laird’s going to be very pleased, isn’t he?’

  ‘Aye, he is. But that’s no private matter.’

  ‘Well, it is in a way. You might get your farm, you know.’

  ‘Away with ye. That’s just happy talk.’

  ‘And he might, when – well, when the bit of trouble I’m in is cleared up – arrange for me to study. You know, to be a vet.’

  ‘Aye, he might. But you’re a long time getting to the private part.’

  ‘I’m coming to it now,’ said Smiler grinning and still surprised that he felt no awkwardness. ‘ What I want to know is … well, when I’m really grown up and a vet … well, would you marry me?’

  For a moment Laura’s face showed her surprise, then she gave a little frown and said severely, ‘Sammy Miles, that bump on your head has made you lose your wits. You must be daft to think I’d answer a question like that.’

  Smiler lay back against his pillows and said, ‘You don’t have to answer it now. But when I get to be a vet – well, you just watch out. I’m jolly well going to come and ask you. I never did meet anyone like you before and just think – if I was a vet and you had a farm –’

  ‘And if pigs had wings they would fly and a fine old world that would be.’

  Tight-faced, Laura came to the bed and took his tray, but as she moved away she turned and smiled back at him and said, ‘ Mind you – if you did come and ask I’d no say that I wouldn’t give it serious thought. But for now, you get your head down on those pillows and go to sleep. I’ll be up in a little while to snuff your candles.’

  When Laura had gone, Smiler lay back on his pillows and thought how pretty she looked. Not just when she smiled and laughed, but also when she tried to look stern and cross. She was a wonderful girl. Holy Crikeys, she was. Not like the rest. She could do things that would make most other girls turn and run … Despite the low throbbing still in his head he grinned happily to himself and thought, Samuel M., the sooner you get to be a vet the better.

  When Laura came up an hour later he was locked in sound sleep. She leaned over him and arranged the clothes around his shoulders and then slowly put out a finger and touched his sun-tanned, freckled cheek above the cut on his face.

  The next morning to Smiler’s surprise he found that he felt worse than he had done the previous night. Laura noticed it at once and she took his temperature and checked his pulse. But all she would say when Smiler asked her about them was, ‘They’re aye fair enough. But what you’ve got is a … a sort of reaction. You’ll not be getting out of that bed in a hurry, I can tell ye.’

  But Smiler had no wish to get out of the bed. He slept on and off during the morning and now and again found himself shivering and going cold all over. This was the beginning of a fever that didn’t leave him until the following afternoon. During that period things became pretty mixed up for Smiler because he couldn’t sort out whether he was dreaming them or whether they were actually happening. Sometimes he was being chased by the Skipper and the Chief Mate all around the island with Bacon barking at his heels. At other times the big four-poster bed seemed to be adrift on a dark, stormy, sea. The little carvings on the supporting posts were alive, the flowers and leaves fluttering in the wind, the gnomish men and women clambering up and down, and the red velvet canopy cracking and booming as each gust took it. Once the room was full of deep calm and he saw the Laird and Laura leaning over him. The Laird’s face looked grave and he slipped up the sleeve of Smiler’s pyjamas and gave him an injection in the arm. As he turned away Smiler saw that he had the small brown owl sitting on his shoulder. The owl twisted its head right round, looked at Smiler, ruffled its feathers, and then gave him a wink from one amber-brown eye.

  The curious thing was that when Smiler really did come round the Laird and Laura were standing at his bedside, and the owl was on the Laird’s shoulder.

  Smiler looked up at them and said, ‘Hullo.’

  The Laird smiled and said, ‘Hullo, Samuel M. How do you feel?’

  Smiler said, his mind still a little fogged, ‘ This is like the first time. The first time I came here. Did I get a drop of malt this time too?’

  The Laird laughed. ‘No – ye got something that worked faster.’ He reached out and put his hand on Smiler’s brow and after a moment nodded. ‘Twenty-four hours and you’ll be your old self. Until then you’re under Mistress Laura’s orders.’

  Smiler looked at Laura and met her smile with his own. ‘She can be very strict, sir.’

  ‘Aye, maybe. But ye’ll just have to put up with that …’ The Laird paused and then put out a hand and ruffled Smiler’s fair hair. ‘This is no time for too much talk, Samuel M. But I’d have you know now that I’m much in your debt. You’re a good, brave lad.’

  Left on his own, feeling weak but much better, Smiler stared at the cloud-flocked patch of blue sky through the window and wondered why it always pleased him so much when the Laird called him ‘Samuel M.’ Apart from his father he was the only other one to do so. He had a feeling that in some way it had to have a very special meaning … almost as though, while his father was away, the Laird had quite naturally taken his place. Then, thinking about his father, he lay and began to work out in his mind how long it was to the first of October a
nd the return of the Kentucky Master. So far as he could make out without a calendar handy he thought it could not be more than just over a week. Well, he would be up and about long before then.

  At that moment in the police station at Fort William, a sergeant was opening the morning’s mail. At the top of the pile was a crumpled white envelope addressed in pencilled block letters and carrying an Edinburgh post-mark.

  The sergeant opened it. Inside was a letter on a single sheet of lined writing paper and a newspaper clipping. The letter was written in pencilled block letters and one comer was stained with tea or coffee droppings.

  The letter read:

  THE LAD WHAT IS MENTIONED IN THE ENCLOSED IS WORKING NOW FOR SIR ALEC ELPHINSTONE AT ELPHINSTONE CASTLE. SENT IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE AND FAIRPLAY. A WELL-WISHER OF THE LAW.

  The sergeant picked up the newspaper clipping and began to read it. The clipping, ringed around with red pencil, had been cut from an old number of The Times. Actually it had been cut out by Smiler after Sir Alec had shown it to him because he had wanted it to give to his father. He had kept it in his money envelope which Billy Morgan had taken from him.

  The sergeant read it through, then read the letter again, and then screwed up his mouth as though he suddenly had a bad taste in it, and said, ‘A well-wisher of the law, I don’t think.’