Merriman and the French Invasion (The Merriman Chronicles Book 2) Read online

  “What ever possessed that boy’s family to think that he would be suited to a life at sea,” said Merriman when the white faced midshipman had gone.

  “I don’t know Sir,” remarked Shrigley, “Do you think he will improve after this?”

  “I think it very unlikely Alfred. He’s been spoilt all his life and thinks the lower orders are there for his own convenience. The Master reports that he is probably the worst pupil he has ever had, useless at mathematics and shows no interest in navigation or in learning anything. I think we may have more trouble from that one before this commission is over.” Merriman had no idea then of how right he was.

  Occasionally some small trading vessels were stopped, boarded and searched but nothing suspicious found. Once or twice they bought fish from small fishing boats but there was no sign whatsoever of French vessels.

  They entered Bantry Bay, sailing into the bay nearly as far as Whiddy Island without seeing another ship. At some twenty-three miles long and seven miles at its widest the bay would have ample room for the French fleet as Merriman pointed out to Mr Grahame.

  It was the same in Kenmare River and as the ship passed Scariff Island to starboard to turn north for Dingle Bay, Grahame remarked that they might as well look for a needle in a hayrick. “Damn it James, the only good thing that has come about from the last few weeks is that I seem to have overcome my seasickness at last.”

  Merriman remembered the first time Grahame had boarded Aphrodite, he had spent the first few days prostrate in his berth, expressing the wish to be left alone to die. On this occasion he had not suffered nearly so badly.

  As the ship cleared Bolus Head, Merriman noticed that the Master, Mr Cuthbert was beginning to fidget, looking from Merriman to his chart and notes and back again at his captain.

  “Have you a problem Master.”

  “Aye Sir, well, not really a problem but my notes have mention of an uncharted reef or rock between Puffin Island and the Great Skellig rock to seaward. With this poor visibility I’d prefer to shorten sail and put another one or two lookouts aloft if that is agreeable Sir.”

  “Very well Mr Cuthbert, we shall do as you suggest. Mr Andrews, have the main and fore courses off her at once and send two men with the best eyes aloft. That will be Larkin and Thomas.”

  But in spite of the Master’s misgivings, no rock was seen and very soon Lord Stevenage rounded Valencia Island with the huge expanse of Dingle Bay opening to starboard.

  The weather was abating somewhat and the wind backing to the north so Merriman was able to bring the ship to anchor in ten fathoms in the lee of Bull’s Head. The rain was now no more than a drizzle and hardly noticeable after the heavy rain of the past few days but it still made visibility difficult.

  Later that evening, in pitch darkness, Mr Grahame was put ashore near Dingle Harbour with two seamen as a bodyguard. One was Matthews and the other was Jackson, both reliable, capable men.

  “I don’t need a bodyguard James, I know where I’m going and I am armed.” Grahame complained.

  “None the less Sir, I must insist that these two men go with you. I well remember the time four years ago when we put you ashore near Dublin and you nearly lost your life. You have yourself said that you don’t trust the men you are going to find. I’d rather take no chances.”

  The boat was commanded by Lieutenant Weston who had his orders to keep the boat ready to bring Grahame and the others off again when they were ready.

  “I would be pleased if you could do this as quickly as you can Sir,” said Merriman talking to Grahame just before the latter descended to the boat. “The ship is safe enough at the present but if the wind begins to shift to the south east we will be on a lee shore and we’ll have to move out to sea.”

  “I will James, but as you know, these visits have to be done mostly at night to avoid compromising the safety of my people, which makes it even more difficult for me to find my way in unfamiliar surroundings. I can’t say how long it may take.”

  Chapter 7: Grahame finds his agents dead and barely escapes with his life

  Mr Grahame and the two seamen following him walked as quietly as they could up to the village of Dingle, in places having to feel their way in the dark.

  “We’ll call on the barman first, he lives in a small house, more of a hut really, at the end of the village street” Grahame told the men. “Stay behind me when I go in.”

  Creeping nearer to the hut they could see that the door was ajar, with the feeble light from a small lantern glowing within. Grahame pushed the door gently and it swung open to reveal the body of a man lying on the floor with a pool of blood spreading round his head and shoulders. A muffled scream indicated that someone else was there so Grahame entered carefully, followed by Matthews. In a corner, a terrified woman huddled, dressed in little more than rags, clutching two small children to her, peering fearfully up at him.

  “He’s not been dead for more than a few minutes Sir,” said Matthews, “The body’s still warm and the blood’s still wet.”

  Grahame approached the woman who tried to shrink further into the corner and asked her gently what had happened. She replied in an incomprehensible gabble.

  “From the little I can understand it seems that two men burst in here and killed her man, then they raped her, in front of her children at that. We’d better leave here immediately and go and see if anything has happened to my other informant.”

  He tossed a small purse of coins to the woman as they left. “I think she will be safe enough, they could have killed her if they had wanted to, and there’s nothing we can do for her now.”

  As rapidly as they could they made their way to the farm where Grahame’s other informant lived, but in the darkness and with the need to be as quiet as they could, it took them well over half an hour to reach it. The door and shutters were tightly fastened but a faint light escaped from cracks in the woodwork of the door.

  “I don’t like this,” said Grahame to his companions, “It seems too quiet, not even his dog is barking. Stay close and keep your wits about you.”

  “There’s somebody else close by Sir, can’t see ‘em but I knows they’re there somewhere,” whispered Jackson, “I can sense it.”

  Grahame rapped sharply on the door. There was no rely so he knocked again, louder this time and called in a low voice “O’Hara, it’s me, your friend from Cork.”

  There came the sound of bolts being drawn and the door opened a little to reveal the frightened and be-whiskered face of the man O’Hara.

  “Come in and shut the door, quickly now, they’re out to kill me!” he said in passably good English.

  “How do you know that Mr O’Hara?”

  “I’ve found notes pushed under the door, with death threats in them. They say they know I’ve been giving information to the English. I sent my wife and children away to her mother two days ago, since when I’ve only dared venture out to feed my stock.”

  “Well, I’m afraid I have to tell you that we have just found another of my men lying in his house in Dingle with his throat cut. Perhaps it would be better for you to come away with me now.”

  “Can’t do that, all I own is here. I’ve got my pistols and a musket so be damned to them. I’m staying put.”

  I admire your courage Mr O’Hara but I fear that you will suffer for it. These people mean business and you are all alone and isolated. I urge you again, come with me.”

  “No Sir,” said O’Hara stubbornly.

  “Well I thank you for your services in the past but I think we shall not meet again and we cannot stay to help you. Good fortune go with you Mr O’Hara.”

  So saying Grahame turned to the door and was just about to open it when Jackson put his hand out to stop him.

  “Begging your pardon Sir, it might be safer if we put the light out first and Matthews and I will go out in front of you.”

  “Very well, do as you see fit.” He nodded to O’Hara who immediately blew out the lamp. Jackson cautiously opened the door,
listened intently, and when nothing happened they quickly left. Just as the door was closed behind them there was a flash and a bang and a pistol ball struck the doorpost close to Grahame’s head, a splinter from which struck him on the cheek.

  Without ceremony Matthews promptly dragged him down into the deeper shadows by the house wall as Jackson fired his pistol in the direction of the flash. A squeal came out of the darkness. “You winged one of them that time Ted. Let’s go Sir, you lead and we’ll guard your back” said Matthews.

  Moving carefully and watchfully with weapons ready in their hands, they had not gone far when a shot sounded behind them and a sudden flare of light showed that the thatch of O’Hara’s house had been torched.

  “God help the poor man now, muttered Matthews as they turned their back to the sight. They were perhaps halfway back to the beach where they had landed not four hours before, when the moon slid from behind the clouds and illuminated the path they were following. There came a hoarse shout and shadowy figures lunged towards them with the moon reflecting from the swords and knives they carried. Grahame and Matthews fired their pistols almost together. Two of the attackers screamed, one dropped to the ground, the other clutched his shoulder, dropped his cutlass and ran off. Three more men flung themselves forward but they stood no chance against the two seamen who were ready for them, and the attackers ran into blades wielded in the experienced hands of men well used to that kind of fighting. In only a few moments another of the men was down clutching at his belly, and the others in full flight, both of them bleeding from wounds.

  “There could be more of them Sir, we must go,” panted Matthews, and the three men ran as fast as they could to the beach over ground now well enough lit by the moon for them to see where they were going. It seemed no time at all before they were on the beach and tumbling into the boat which Lieutenant Weston had brought close in on hearing the shots.

  “Back to the ship if you please” gasped Grahame, “My God, I‘m getting too old for this kind of excitement.” As his breathing eased he turned to Matthews and Jackson and shook them by the hand. “Thank you both. I would be a dead man now if it weren’t for you two.”

  Chapter 8 : Youngest Midshipman found badly beaten and in great pain

  Perhaps it was an hour after the first watch came on duty, about nine o’clock, when the marine sentry knocked on the door of Merriman’s cabin. “Lieutenant Shrigley Sir.”

  The door opened at Merriman’s reply to reveal an agitated Shrigley. “I’m sorry to disturb you Sir, but we seem to have lost Midshipman Small.”

  “Lost him, what do you mean, lost him?”

  “Just that Sir. He didn’t appear on watch. The other midshipmen say that they haven’t seen him for two or three hours. I’ve had the word passed round to see if anybody knows where he is, and we had a quick search made but so far he hasn’t been found. Of course we haven’t searched the hold and storerooms yet, but I can’t imagine why he would go down there.”

  “Neither can I, but he must be found and found at once. Surely he hasn’t gone overboard, someone would have seen or heard him.” On deck Merriman found the First Lieutenant organising groups of men to search below.

  “An officer or warrant officer with each party please Mr Laing, I want a thorough search made. If he is still aboard he’ll be hiding somewhere. Remember, a small boy can creep into a very small space.”

  The men dispersed and Merriman returned to his cabin to wait and wonder. To wonder why the boy should disappear like this? He tried to cast his mind back over the last few days. Had there been anything wrong with the lad, had his behaviour been different in any way? There was nothing he could think of but Merriman had the uneasy feeling that he had missed something.

  Half an hour later, Lieutenant Laing announced that the boy had been found in the sail room. “He won’t say anything Sir. I don’t know what is wrong with him but he seems to be in pain. Mr Shrigley is outside with him.”

  “Right, bring them in and then pass the word for Mr McBride to come here.”

  When Shrigley brought him in it was immediately obvious that there was something wrong with the boy. He was shivering violently but holding himself as stiffly as he could. His face was unnaturally pale and from the blood smeared on his chin it was evident that he had bitten his lip.

  “Now Mr Small,” said Merriman quietly, “I want you to tell me why you were hiding in the sail room.”

  “S-s-sir, w-w-with respect, I wasn’t hiding, I f-f-fell asleep.”

  “Maybe so, but why were you there, are you ill?”

  The boy looked about him with a look of desperation, “I w-w-was t-trying to find s-somewhere quiet to sleep Sir,” he mumbled through chattering teeth, “and I t-t-tripped and fell Sir. That’s all.”

  “I don’t think that is all Mr Small. What do you think?” Merriman directed his question to Laing who was watching the boy with a frown of concern on his face.

  “I agree Sir, there is something else the matter here, but what is it?”

  “Perhaps Mr McBride can tell us when he examines the boy.”

  Waiting for the ship’s doctor, Merriman tried to encourage the boy to tell him what the trouble was but to no avail, the lad stuck to his story and even when told to sit down he simply said that he should stand before his captain.

  “Ah, Mr McBride, here you are. Examine Mr Small if you would and see if you can tell us what is wrong with him.”

  Mcbride looked at the boy’s white face and felt his forehead, then grasped him by the shoulder. Small uttered an involuntary moan of pain and winced at the doctor’s touch. McBride glanced at Merriman, then said “Right my boy, off with your coat and shirt.”

  “Please Sir, must I? I’ll be alright.”

  “Do as I say laddie and don’t argue.”

  Carefully and with reluctance Small eased his coat off. Shrigley, who was standing behind him gasped in surprise. “My god Sir, look at this.” He turned the boy round so that his back was towards the captain. His shirt was spotted with blood, most of it dried. Gently McBride tried to remove it but the shirt was sticking to the boy’s back.

  “I’ll need some water and some things from my dispensary Sir. Meanwhile, if he could lie down on the bench under the stern window - - - - - ?”

  The doctor was back very quickly and began to moisten the bloodstains to release the shirt. As he did so Small writhed and gasped with pain.

  “Easy laddie, I’ll be as careful as I can.” The doctor gently removed the shirt then turned to the others. “This is not the result of a fall Sir, this boy has been savagely whipped.” He stood back so that they could see clearly. The boy’s back was covered in weals and bruises and several of the wounds had split and were oozing blood. McBride eased the boy’s breeches down over his hips to reveal that his buttocks were likewise lacerated and bruised.

  “Hell’s teeth, no wonder he wouldn’t sit down. By God, I’ll find out who did this to him and why.” Merriman was coldly furious. “Doctor, your opinion of his condition?”

  “No bones broken Sir, and most of the wounds will heal in time but some of the bruising is extensive and it appears to have been inflicted over a period of time as some of it is not new. Besides which the boy has a high temperature and a chill. I hope it won’t develop into a fever.”

  Merriman looked down at the small battered body lying face down. The boy was sobbing quietly in spite of his earlier resolve to be brave. “Well then Mr McBride, he is in your hands now. Look after him well.”

  “Yes Sir. I’ll put him in my own berth for the time being. Come on laddie, come with me.” The boy climbed slowly and painfully to his feet and followed by the doctor, left the cabin. Before the door closed, the three officers heard the marine sentry’s oaths when he caught sight of the midshipman’s back and they knew that the news would be all over the ship inside five minutes.

  “Gentlemen, we must get to the bottom of this and without delay. Somebody has repeatedly beaten that boy and I have an idea who
it might be. I don’t think it can be one of the men, none of them would dare to lay a hand on an officer even one as young as that, besides, most of them would be more inclined to be protective of the boy. No, my suspicions fall on the other midshipmen. Surely you as the senior Mr Shrigley, should have some idea of what goes on.”

  “Well Sir, we know that there is always a certain amount of bullying in the midshipmen’s berth, and it is quite usual that the most junior has to act almost as a servant to his elders and is beaten occasionally, but that is to be expected, we all went through that in our turn.”

  “Yes I remember it well, but this has gone beyond normal.”

  “I had noticed that he was not as cheerful of late and on one occasion he was slow to move to an order, but I’d no idea he was in such a state Sir.”

  “Well you should have,” Merriman told him bluntly. “I know that you spend more of your off watch time with the other officers than in the midshipmen’s berth, but as only acting lieutenant you are still the senior midshipman and it is up to you to keep an eye on them.” Faced with the evidence of his being found wanting in his responsibilities, Shrigley could only mutter a shamefaced “Yes Sir.”

  “It is up to all the officers to take note of anything unusual and we didn’t. We are all to blame, yes, I include myself in this.”

  Lieutenant Laing spoke for the first time, “Sir, from what I know of the Honourable Arthur Dorrington I would imagine that with his arrogance he has elected himself the leader of the others and expects them to do his bidding, would you not agree Mr Shrigley?”

  “Yes Sir, I had noticed that Hungerford always agrees with Dorrington but I think Small has too much spirit to toady to anyone. Perhaps that is why he has been beaten, but if it was them to blame, they must have been sly about it to be able to keep Small quiet and prevent anyone outside the midshipmen’s berth from knowing of it.”