‘When I called upon the Directors this morning, in one last humiliating attempt to persuade them to change their minds, I overhead the copying clerks discussing you. Your name was mentioned and, if that was not sufficient a providential coincidence, it was remarked that you were formerly married to a woman of colour, a further circumstance if such a thing were needed to convince me, that we were fated to encounter one another.’
Hooker paused, drew out his own, enormous watch and looked up at Kite. ‘Captain Kite, the ten minutes you vouchsafed me has expired; the choice is yours. Do you wish to hear my proposal, or leave for Liverpool?’
Kite, taken aback at the entire train of events, still half repulsed by the stink of Hooker, yet fascinated by the fact that clearly Hooker had need of him, was trying to judge whether a man as wealthy as Hooker claimed to be would really hide in such appalling lodgings. It seemed to Kite that perhaps Hooker stood a greater risk of being robbed of his ‘cash’, a word Kite knew to be of Chinese origin and which suggested a sum in coin and highly vulnerable to theft, in the mean accommodation afforded by the tenements of Gravitt’s Yard than if he had established himself in an hotel in the west end of London. To this confusion, Hooker had surprised him with his reference to poor Puella, yet the silent Mrs Hooker was an Indian, a ‘woman of colour’ herself, so was Hooker indicating that he and Kite therefore shared some confraternity in their sexual preferences? Did he tell Hooker that matters had altered since Puella’s death and that Sarah, his present wife, was an American?
‘Captain Kite…?’ Kite was recalled to the present with a start. He drew in a deep breath and instantly regretted it, the sickly sweet smell of Hooker making him reel. He stood abruptly, full of the impulse to flee, to return to Liverpool, to Sarah and all the uncertainties of his own life. The room reeled about him and he staggered across to the open window, drinking in great gulping drafts of what passed in London for fresh air. Somewhere across the roof-tops a clock began to strike six, and then another and another followed. He was already too late, the nightmare was not over and he must make up his mind. He needed a minute to collect himself and turned back into the room.
Kite’s eyes adjusted to the gathering darkness. Mrs Hooker had risen to her feet and stood beside her husband who remained seated. She was wrapped in folds of gold and scarlet silk, as tall as her husband. Yet she was far from ill-looking and her eyes were of an unfathomable darkness.
‘Forgive me,’ he apologised under their joint scrutiny, ‘I am a little faint…’
‘Captain Kite, pray sit down again. I fear I stink most damnably. It is an exudation of excess humours that too long a life in the tropical latitudes has induced. I had hoped that the English air would cure me of the affliction but it has not proved to be the case and, since I am not to stay here, I must perforce continue to endure it. I am told that time reduces its effect upon my acquaintances…’
As Mrs Hooker again withdrew to her couch, Kite reluctantly returned to his chair like a wine-sodden man with a head-ache. Since Hooker had mentioned his odoriferous state, Kite felt able to put a handkerchief to his face from under which he said, ‘do please come to your proposal, Mr Hooker.’
‘I will, sir, without more ado. I have need of you, Captain Kite. You have lost your ships, but I can purchase you another; you will have a crew upon whose services you can call, and I can pay for them. You are, I apprehend, a mariner capable of navigation and…’
‘One moment, Mr Hooker. Do I understand that you wish to engage me in the capacity of a master?’
‘That is correct, Captain. That is what you are, is it not?’
‘It is, but I cannot entertain to convey a vessel to India against the monopoly of the East India Company and, if you purpose to become an interloper, as those who avoid the monopoly by registering vessels under the flags of foreign states, consider that the thing is now very difficult, with most of Europe ranged against us…’
Hooker airily waved aside Kite’s objection. ‘No, no, I have no intention of sailing under the Austrian flag and registering a vessel in Ostend or any other such place. No, Captain, I am more interested in acquiring a fast vessel, one that is both swift and well-armed. Liverpool has a reputation for privateers and I would have one for a private yacht appointing you master and commander of her. You would take me to India and I should pay you upon the safe delivery of myself, my household and my fortune. We would have to come to some arrangement over the vessel but, if all proves satisfactory it would be to your advantage. Come, what d’you say?’
Kite’s mind was working fast. There was, perhaps, an opportunity for him, but there were also a host of doubts and questions. He strove to make sense of what Hooker was not telling him, as much as what he was. ‘Tell me, Mr Hooker,’ he said at last, ‘if I take you at your word and assume you to be a nabob, albeit,’ and Kite gestured round the room, ‘a somewhat eccentric one if these grim surroundings offer a clue to your character, what future is there for me in your proposal beyond the delivery of you and yours in India when the ship will be sold out from under me and I shall be left to rot upon the strand.’
‘Not at all sir, but before I reveal my purpose for you in India, and I certainly have one if you wish to take advantage of it, may I ask you, in broad terms, what your business was with the Honourable Company?’ Hooker’s tone was ironic, but his question fair.
‘I had some notion like your own, Mr Hooker. To reinvest what remained of my capital assets in an Indiaman on the basis that there was less risk than elsewhere. Like you I received short shrift, all the undertakings being over-subscribed. Moreover my offer was, I think, though they did not say so to my face, too poor to spark the slightest interest.’
‘May I ask how much?’
‘You may ask…’
‘But you are reticent?’
Kite sighed. ‘Not reticent, Mr Hooker, just reluctant to reveal that the sum is, alongside yours, insignificant.’
‘Ahh. Ten thousand pounds?’
Kite laughed bleakly. ‘Like much else in the world, insignificance is relative: five thousand.’
‘Ahh, I see…’
‘No you do not see, but I can guess that you think my relative poverty puts me in your pocket.’
‘Not at all, Captain Kite, not at all,’ expostulated Hooker. ‘Nor should I wish you to think that in any way I was trying to buy you…’
‘Did you not buy Jack Bow?’
‘Of course not!’ Hooker retorted indignantly. ‘I offered him an alternative position to that of pot-boy in an inn where the landlord beat him. I needed a messenger whose movements would be inconspicuous in this quarter, most notably to solicit your attendance here.’
‘Very well, let that be as it may, but I have answered your question, now do you answer mine: what further advantage would there be for me once I had conveyed you to Calcutta?’
‘I made all my cash in ship-owning myself, Captain Kite. You will have heard of those Country ships which trade from both Bombay and the Hooghli River eastwards and southwards, along the coasts of Pegu, Sumatra, Java and as far east as the Moluccas.’ Kite forbore from expressing his ignorance of the trade and let Hooker run on. ‘Some go farther, as far as China, but my own interests lay closer to home. There, I have admitted that perhaps my heart does lie under warmer skies than these English clouds. If you convey me home, I shall have to buy or build new tonnage and, if you come into partnership with me and offer your own expertise as a ship’s husband, then you will thereby earn yourself a substantial share. It is a fair offer, Captain Kite.’ Hooker clapped his hands and the Indian boy reappeared with fresh glasses of wine. ‘Hooker lifted one off the tray in a massive paw and, half-draining it, asked, ‘Come, what d’ye say, eh?’
Kite sipped his own glass and nodded. ‘These are my own conditions. First, that I shall provide the vessel but that you bear the expense of fitting her out. It so happens that the Sea Lyon was not exactly my last vessel, though she was my last capable of loading a profitable cargo. I
have a schooner named the Spitfire, formerly fitted as a privateer. She is fast and may be well-armed. You shall bear all the running expenses, including the payment of the crew and I shall charter her to you as a letter of marque. I shall bear the trouble and expense only of obtaining the necessary papers and we shall be joint owners in the enterprise. Since we shall carry no cargo, we may accommodate my own effects and my wife and child will come with us…’
‘I need accommodation for twenty men,’ interjected Hooker suddenly.
‘Twenty-men? What twenty-men?’ Kite asked.
‘Some tame dacoits from Pegu.’ Hooker pointed obscurely at the floorboards at his feet. ‘They are currently living below and form my bodyguard. That is why I do not fear the loss of my treasure.’
‘Dacoits are to be trusted then?’ Kite asked with a puzzled frown, recalling the pair of Indians on the lower landing. ‘I had thought them a species of robbers.’
Hooker smiled. This time the expression was not pleasant and Kite felt a shadow of apprehension at the chill in Hooker’s eyes. ‘Oh they are, but if one knows the trick of it, they may be made of use.’
Kite hesitated, wondering what Sarah would say when she heard she was to be shipped to India with a malodorous nabob, his Hindu wife and a score of reformed oriental highwaymen! He needed to buy a little time and to call Hooker’s bluff and test his probity. Nodding to Hooker he said, ‘Very well. Now this is what I propose: that I return to Liverpool and put the refitting of my vessel in hand. For this I shall need two hundred guineas in gold. This shall be a pledge of your good faith. In ten days time I shall expect you and your household,’ Kite reached into his waistcoat pocket. ‘Here is my card. I shall accommodate you and your immediate family which amounts to what? Your wife, yourself and your personal servants…?’
‘The Hindu boy, a cook and my wife’s maid…’
‘And Jack Bow? Does he come too?’
‘Yes, I think he will attach himself to my household. He tells me he has no known family and I think something may be made of him.’
‘Very well then. He will find some fellow spirits in my house, no doubts. As for the twenty dacoits, I shall quarter them in an ale house…’
Hooker shook his head. ‘No, that will not do. They must remain in close contact with myself, Captain Kite. Have you a stable and some hammocks? They are familiar with hammocks.’
‘Are these fellows armed, Mr Hooker?’
Hooker nodded. ‘Oh yes, they are.’
‘Then may we compromise? A pair of them to be quartered in my house, the remainder in a warehouse where they may cook their curries or whatever they subsist upon. They may relieve themselves howsoever you wish. Do you agree?’
Hooker nodded again. ‘I do, Captain, except that you wish to secure an earnest of my good faith with a purse of two hundred guineas. May I ask what you offer in return?’
Kite laughed. ‘Once again Mr Hooker, you may certainly ask but, having dragged me off the street and confined me to the extent of compelling me to remain another night in this pestilential city, I feel I have acted thus far in accordance with your wishes. Besides, I require the money to put work in hand. I cannot afford to speculate on so slender a chance that this meeting will yield all you promise merely upon your word alone.’
‘You do not trust me, Captain Kite,’ Hooker said, heaving his vast bulk out of the chair and fishing a ring of keys out of a pocket let into his tight breeches.
‘Would you in my position, sir?’ Kite asked with chilly formality as he too rose to his feet. ‘You are gambling on me, I admit, but for a man of your declared means, two hundred guineas seems a reasonable stake.’
With a grunt and a jingling of keys Hooker left the room. As he withdrew his wife stirred from her couch and rose in a sussuration of silk, to glide across the fathom of bare boards and confront Kite. With a strange and supple gesture of her hands and a charming rolling motion of her head she thanked Kite. Her accent was wonderfully exotic so that, for the first time, Kite’s thoughts focused upon their ultimate destination: India.
‘My husband is very pleased that you are able to help us, Captain. And also am I too. I am certain that you will not regret this encounter and that your wife will become my friend.’ Her English accent was almost flawless and Kite was touched by her artlessly graceful manner.
‘I hope so too, Madam,’ he responded with some warmth, ‘but you should know that I have been married twice. Your husband seems to set some store by the fact that I was married to a black woman. Sadly she died of the rice-water fever some years ago.’
‘And now you are married to an English lady, no doubt,’ Mrs Hooker said with a smile, the fading light catching the jewel in her nose as her head moved gently from side to side.
‘My wife was born in America, Madam. She too was widowed, though her bereavement was caused by the malice of man.’
‘Her husband was killed?’ A pained look crossed the woman’s face, the interrogative leaving her head canted expectantly to one side.
Kite nodded. ‘Yes; he was murdered by rebels, Madam.’
‘That must have been very terrible for her, Captain.’
‘Yes, it was.’
At that moment Hooker came back into the room holding out a small leather purse. ‘Here sir, is what you demand. You need not count it.’
‘I had no intention of doing so, Mr Hooker. I do not think you will make an appearance in Liverpool if you have cheated me.’
Expressionless, Hooker held out the purse. Kite took it and asked, ‘May I borrow Jack Bow to carry my bags back to my lodgings?’
‘Of course, Captain, of course.’ Hooker clapped his hands and the turbanned boy appeared again. Hooker addressed him, Kite catching only the words ‘Jack’ and the repeated command, ‘jildi, jildi’.
‘Then I shall take my leave.’
‘And we shall meet in Liverpool in ten days’ time.’
‘That is agreed.’
‘And the Spitfire will be fitting out for sea?’
‘That too is agreed.’
Hooker held out his hand and Kite took it. The big man’s clasp was firm, but not excessive and Kite, recalling something Hooker had said earlier, asked, ‘Before I leave, may I ask to what you referred when you said you might be able to offer me some consolation if I overstayed my self-imposed limit of ten minutes? I formed the impression that it was not directly concerned with the matter you wished to put to me.’
‘Ah, no, Captain, no indeed,’ Hooker wagged a self-admonitory finger and turned aside to where, on an adjacent table, a crumpled newspaper lay. He picked it up and began turning the pages and staring intently at them as he searched for something. ‘I am glad you reminded me, for it was one more of those coincidences that cannot have been chance, but a fated contribution to our meeting… Ah, here it is…’
With a further rustle of the broadsheet Hooker folded a page back and held it out to Kite, his index finger making a paragraph which Kite read:
Falmouth, 20th August, 1780. Came in this day the American Privateer Schooner Algonquin, Prize to H. M. Frigate Cyclops, Captain Henry Hope. The Prize, taken off the Irish Coast, had been retaken by her Crew but this Turn in the Wheel of Fortune was Most Gallantly reversed by the Bold Actions of the Prize-Master, Midshipman Nathaniel Drinkwater who thereafter conducted the Schooner into Carrick Roads and Delivered his Troublesome Prisoners to the Governor of Pendennis Castle.
The Algonquin, Commanded by a Captain King of Rhode Island, has Proved a Veritable Plague, eluding all attempts at her Capture, most recently Taking the Sea Lyon, of Liverpool, Thomas Clarkson, Master.
‘Well I’ll be damned,’ said Kite lowering the newspaper. ‘That is a coincidence indeed, Mr Hooker. Not only did the Algonquin take my vessel the Sea Lyon, but she was herself captured by my sister’s husband’s ship, the frigate Cyclops!
‘There sir!’ exclaimed Hooker, his eyes afire in the last gasp of the daylight, ‘then the whole affair is ordained by Providence as my wife w
ill tell you are all things under heaven.’
Chapter Four
A Dubious Partnership
‘Do I conclude that you do not trust this Hooker, William?’
Kite looked up at his wife. He would ring for candles in a moment, but the last of the daylight caught the side of Sarah’s face and threw up the extraordinary beauty of her features. She was one of those unusually fortunate women to whom the passage of time was kind, for in her splendid maturity Sarah Kite was more handsome than he ever remembered her. But this thought turned like a knife in Kite’s guts, reminding him that so precious a possession as Sarah, ought not to be subjected to the cruel vicissitudes of a fate that had already subjected her to the most harrowing of circumstances: Kite would never forget the charred remains of her first husband after the Yankee rebels had first tarred and feathered their political opponent and then set fire to him!1 Now he too had failed to provide for her and was about to embark on a most singular risk.
‘How can I, my dear?’ he said disturbed and thrusting himself to his feet strode across the room and pulled the cord.
‘But it seems to me you have taken adequate precautions for assurances as to his honour. You have two hundred guineas and at least you may refit Spitfire…’
‘To what end, if this Hooker fails to materialise?’ Kite snapped.
‘But why should he not turn up?’ At this moment Maggie, the maid, appeared bobbing in the doorway with a branch of lit candles. ‘Thank you Maggie, my dear,’ Sarah said, continuing her remark to her husband. ‘You have nothing to lose, William…’
‘Heavens, Sarah, I have nothing to lose!’ he exclaimed.
‘Nonsense, William. Should Hooker not come, you may go back to sea and wreak some revenge upon these rebels!’
‘What recommission Spitfire as a letter of marque? Come, my dear, I am too old for such adventures and am loathe to leave you here is this place…’
‘Too old? Why d’you say so? Because I proved more adept with my foil and bested you the other day?’ She smiled and pulled a wry face at him. ‘Anyway, you will be in no danger, I shall come with you, just as I shall come with you to India. This place,’ said Sarah suddenly serious and gesturing round the drawing room, ‘is nothing. I shall hazard my life alongside yours William and, in addition to my foil, I can point a pistol better than you,’ she concluded triumphantly.
The East Indiaman Page 4
