'The Navy cutter,' Alan said. 'Did she just happen to be away as an interloper is selling here in Cockburn Harbour? Or anchored here when Yankees enter Hawk's Nest Harbour over on Turks Island?'
'Better that than being sued, sir,' Lightbourne told him. 'Try to arrest a foreign vessel, impound its goods, and one ends up incourt months later, with damned little support from the Crown. Try to panel a court, I dare you! They vote for acquittal every time, and then the accusing officer is liable for damages. For slander, false arrest, for restraint of trade… lost incomes. For demurrages accrued while the suspect vessel was at anchor,
'The only way possible would be if the foreign vessel resisted being stopped and inspected,' Lewrie surmised aloud as they resumed a leisurely stroll past all the palmetto-roofed sheds, the canvas-topped pavilions heaped with goods of every description. 'If they fired on a King's ship.'
'Aye, and they're not
'Introduce me, anyway, sir,' Lewrie sighed in resignation. He was led to an open-sided pavilion where several civilians sat in the shade imbibing wine or ale. As Lewrie approached, dressed as a Crown officer, several of them found reason to finish their ales and make off, while the rest shifted uneasily.
'Mister Lightbourne,' a gray-haired sea captain nodded to the magistrate. 'A splendid good afternoon to ye, sir.'
'Captain Grant. Allow me to name you Lieutenant Alan Lewrie, captain of His Majesty's Sloop
'Captain Lewrie,' Grant beamed, extending a calloused hand. 'Captain Grant, your servant, sir,' Lewrie rejoined, taking the hand. 'Is that good ale you're enjoying there, sir?'
'Philadelphia beer, Captain Lewrie,' Grant allowed. 'It travels well, though. Do sit and enjoy a mug, if you've a mind.'
'I would, sir,' Alan replied, removing his cocked hat and taking a shaky seat in a sprung chair at the rickety table which rested on a shipping pallet over the sandy soil.
'Here on some official business, are ye, Captain Lewrie?'
Grant inquired with an innocent expression, and a deal of humour.
'To seek a small measure of gratitude, Captain Grant,' Alan said as a wooden mug appeared, foaming and aromatic with hops. 'You and I almost met two days ago, off West Caicos, sir.'
'Aha! Your
'Sank three, sir,' Lewrie replied as the others gave him cynical cheers. 'And captured a dozen survivors. We have them in Mister Lightbourne's custody at the moment. Two boats escaped me.'
'You'll get 'em,' Grant prophesied. 'Eager young feller like y'self, they got no chance, sir.'
'I will, thankee, sir,' Lewrie smiled, getting to the meat of the matter. 'As for the ones now in custody, though… a case must be laid, sir. Not merely my word they were taken in arms. I need your testimony as the intended victim, Captain Grant. Else they'll be set free instead of swing. To continue their foul activities of preying upon…
'Well, now, young sir…' Grant frowned, ready to strangle on such a preposterous notion. 'Me testify? Bless me soul, Captain! A long voyage to Nassau… weeks waiting for the court to convene, sir. Demurrages piling up and all… were I to be paid recompense, I might be able to. But, hurricane season's almost upon us, and me poor old
'Mister Lightbourne does assure me, Captain Grant, that a deposition would be sufficient,' Lewrie interrupted. And was galled by the sarcastic humour from all present his suggestion elicited.
'My, ye are a young'un, ain't ye now?' Grant chuckled. 'For me to depose in a British court…
'You would have to lay yourself open to a charge of violating the Navigation Acts, I know, sir,' Lewrie said, reddening with anger at their laughter. 'And their lawyer would make Puck's Fair of you. But, were you to state that you were on passage for Hispaniola…'
'Ahh!' Grant smiled as he was let off the hook. 'And we said that you
'So your testimony could be written out by a Crown official,'Lewrie sketched on. 'An unbiased magistrate appointed by the Governor-General of the Bahamas, who could provide additional testimony to the unimpeachable nature of your voyage, sir.'
'Why, bless me soul, young sir, if ye ain't the knacky'un!' Grant hooted and leaned back on his rickety stool. 'And whilst I was in port here, not o' me own free will, as it were, I do believe I did trade Hispaniola goods fer salt. Straight across the board, hey?'
Lewrie blushed once more, feeling sullied by what he was being forced to ignore. 'Your, uhm… commercial endeavors following what testimony you render, sir, are none of my concern, Captain Grant, and surely are not required to be cited in the deposition.'
Playing fast and loose with King George's official edicts was an unsettling experience for him, one he knew for certain he did not wish to repeat. Sins of a personal nature were one thing, but… the Law! And placing his personal honour in jeopardy, to boot!
'We understand each other, Captain Lewrie,' Grant simpered.
'This
Grant laughed and gave him an elaborate seated bow. 'I do stand admonished, Captain Lewrie,' he allowed with a wry expression. 'We'll not cross hawses again, more'n like. And if we do, I'll try to outrun ye 'stead o' bribing ye. Ye catch me, though, I just might try the depth o' that purse o' yer'n. Can't expect the fish to be hauled aboard without a fight, ye know.'
'I know,' Lewrie nodded.
'Still want that deposition, then?' Grant asked.
'I do, sir, if you're still of a mind.'
'Then let's be about it,' Grant agreed. 'Faster I give me testament, the faster I'll be out o' yer hair.'
'And out of port,' Lewrie prodded.
'And out of yer jurisdiction,' Grant beamed. 'Fair enough.'
'Galling, ain't it?' Mr. Lightbourne said as they walked back to the Commissioner's House together. 'Now you begin to know what I face here in the Turks. No support from Nassau. No real authority. Threat of being lynched were I too effective. Or turned out by those bone-lazy worthies on New Providence for being incapable, were they to discover the true circumstances which obtain here. I've turned many a blind eye, long as there's revenues from salt quarterly. Yet I cannot blame the people hereabouts for wanting lumber and luxury. They'd go naked and starving without the illicit trade. There'd not be one decent shack to live in without it.'
'Mmmm,' Lewrie frowned, pacing into his advancing shadow, eyes downcast.
'I do not sell my office, Captain Lewrie,' Lightbourne told him. 'Nor do I think you would. Watch yourself, though.'
'Sir?'
'There's enough would sell their honour, turn the blind eye, and pray not to be bothered. Some of our exalted, so to speak, superior to you and me. And some so venal they'd even countenance your pirates, long as it was