Marlowe that one opening to deliver a serious wound. Thought he had done for him. Left him bleeding on the deck and took the ship, the one we had sailed from England, and me with it.”
“But I still fail to see-why save you?”
“Marlowe had all the money to set up as a gentleman, but he had no education, and he knew he could never pass for quality. He thought I could teach him. I told him that he would fool no one in England, but perhaps in the colonies it might be possible.
“I sailed with him for four years, and in that time I went from being his prisoner to his teacher and then his friend. I never participated in any of their raiding and he did not insist, though I can tell you he was never the murderous villain that LeRois was. He had a certain humanity about him. I never saw him murder anyone, nor could I have called him friend if he had.
“At length he had had enough, and had gathered enough wealth to set himself up, so we parted with the others and came to Virginia. The rest, I believe, you know.”
“I thought I did, to be certain,” Elizabeth said. “But there is still so much about him… Why ever did he free his slaves? Is he such a man of God that he could not bear to own Negroes?”
At that Bickerstaff smiled. “No. I wish I could tell you that he gave them their freedom out of sense of humanity. I should
have done so, had they been mine. But with Marlowe it was as much self-preservation.
“There were a number of Africans with the pirates, escaped slaves who had turned to the sweet trade. They could be the meanest of all of them, for there was no chance of anything but death for them if they were caught. And Marlowe had fought side by side with them. I reckon he is the only member of the tidewater gentry to ever consider a black man to be an equal. He has seen the smoldering hatred of men in chains, and he knows how dangerous they can be. He did not care to live with that nagging at him.”
“I see.”
They were silent for a long time. Finally Elizabeth spoke again. “And so today…?”
“I gather this person who was on the sloop was someone who recognized Marlowe from the days in the sweet trade. He has been living in terror of coming across one of his old fellows.”
“And what will this mean?”
“I do not know. But I am so very afraid that we shall lose our Marlowe. That he is becoming Malachias Barrett once again.”
Chapter 27
FROM THE quarterdeck of the
“Well,” Marlowe said to the company in general-Elizabeth, Bickerstaff, Lieutenant Rakestraw-“this is not entirely unexpected.”
“A shot across the bow would keep ’em off, sir,” Rakestraw suggested. “Guns are loaded and run out.”
Marlowe turned, regarded the first officer. Wondered at how it had come to this, that a naval officer could even suggest such a thing.
“That is the governor, for the love of God,” Marlowe said. “I don’t think we’ll be lobbing round shot at him.”
“Beg your pardon, sir,” Rakestraw muttered, the outrageousness of that suggestion apparently dawning on him.
Unwilling as he was to fire on Governor Nicholson, still Marlowe was not looking forward to the coming interview. He did not know what to expect, but he did not expect it to be pleasant.
He was no longer sure of his status, his standing with the governor. Nicholson might well be coming to relieve him of command of the guardship. And if he was, Marlowe would have to refuse. The guardship was his sanctuary- or, more to the point, Elizabeth’s sanctuary-and the Plymouth Prizes would stand with him. But then he would be no more than a pirate once more, with a stolen government ship to boot.
They watched the governor and his party, three men in all, climb down the ladder and settle themselves in the stern sheets of the launch. One of the men was the governor’s secretary. The other, Marlowe was quite certain, even from that distance, was President of His Majesty’s Council John Finch, a powerful man in colonial government, a particular friend of the Wilkensons. No, this would not be pleasant at all.
“Mr. Rakestraw, please see to a side party. I wish to have the gentlemen welcomed aboard with all due ceremony.”
“Aye, sir,” Rakestraw said, still blushing from his suggestion, and hurried off to see to that detail.
“Thomas, I’ll not have you jeopardize your position for me,” Elizabeth said.
“And I’ll not have you used as a pawn any longer,” Marlowe said in a tone that did not admit protest.
“Shall I…Perhaps it would be best if I did not show myself,” Elizabeth suggested.
Marlowe pulled his eyes from the distant boat and looked at her, then reached out and took her hand. “I have no misgivings about taking you from the jail. I will not have you skulking about like a criminal. The crime was in their locking you up. You have been horribly used, and now it is time that you receive some justice, and if they are not inclined to give it then they will answer to me.”
He held her hand, held her eyes, until he heard the coxswain yell “Toss oars” and the launch was alongside.
“Come with me,” he said. “We must go and meet our guests.” He led her down the quarterdeck ladder and across the waist, where a detail of the Plymouth Prizes were formed up in two rows on either side of the gangway, boarding pikes held upright to form a straight if somewhat intimidating corridor for those coming aboard.
Marlowe took his place beside Rakestraw just as the governor’s head appeared above the gunwale. Nicholson climbed with some effort and cast a wary eye around as he stepped on deck. It occurred to Marlowe that the governor was no more sure of his status with Marlowe than Marlowe was of his with the governor.
Grand, he thought, we shall be like two drunken blind men flailing at each other.
Nicholson stepped briskly past the line of men, and Marlowe stepped forward to meet him, hand extended. “Governor, how very good to see you again,” Marlowe said.
Nicholson took his hand and shook it. “And you, Marlowe,” he said. His eyes darted to Marlowe’s side. “Mrs. Tinling, I trust you are well.”
“Very well, thank you, Governor,” Elizabeth said with a curtsy. There were few men more gracious and diplomatic than Governor Nicholson. It was what made him so very good at his job.
The same was not quite so true of President Finch, who stepped up behind Nicholson, gave Elizabeth an unpleasant look, and said, “Marlowe, we have a great deal to discuss.”
“I should think so, Mr. President,” Marlowe said. Nicholson did not much care for Finch, and Marlowe imagined that the burgesses had foisted the man on him, afraid that left alone Nicholson would be too forgiving with his wayward guardship captain.
He gestured toward the after cabins. “Please, sirs, won’t you join me in my cabin, where we shall have a glass and discuss this?”
Five minutes later, the four men-Marlowe, Nicholson, Finch, and the secretary-were seated around the table in the great cabin, brimming glasses of wine before them.
“Well, Marlowe, it seems we have some problems here that need addressing, what?” Nicholson said. “Now, I am aware of your relationship with Mrs. Tinling, but I think you had best understand she has been accused of a capital crime-”
“She has been used horribly, and for some years-first by that pig of a husband, and then by the whole stinking Wilkenson brood, and I shall not have her suffer any further.”
“Well, sir,” Finch broke in before Nicholson could speak. “As to her marital status, I think we all know the truth in that.” He pressed on through the governor’s angry look. “That, however, is of minor concern. Of more importance is a charge of murder that has been brought against her-”
“There has been no charge of murder, sir. The charge is of being an accomplice, and to that there is not a bit of
