Flash For Freedom!

my traps from below, I was hustled off under guard, the Yankee officer still eyeing me suspiciously. But he had other things to think about — there was Spring, shot through the back and unconscious, being taken down on a stretcher; Mrs Spring was under guard in the cabin; there were three corpses on our deck, including Sullivan's; Looney was below with the other prisoners, raving in a voice you could have heard in Aldershot; there was blood and wreckage on the deck, and a dozen weeping nigger girls huddled by the rail, I made the most of them, drawing the lieutenant's attention to them and saying:

'Take care of those poor people. They must suffer no more than they have done. Miserable souls, they have come through hell today.'

I left him not knowing what to think, and allowed myself to be conducted aboard the U.S.S. Cormorant by my Leatherneck escort. And there it was plain sailing all the way, as I knew it must be. Captain Abraham Fairbrother, a very spry young gentleman, didn't believe a word I said, at first, but once I had slit open my belt and laid Comber's papers before his bulging eyes he hadn't a leg to stand on. It was all so impressively official, and my own bearing and manner, although I say it myself, were so overwhelming, that the poor soul took it all in like a hungry fish. Why shouldn't he? I would have done.

Of course I had to tell him a tremendous tale, but that sort of thing has never presented me with difficulty, and barring the fact that I wasn't Comber, the whole thing was gospel true, which always makes lying easier. He shook his fair young head in amazement, and vowed that it beat everything he had ever heard; he was full of venom against slavers, I discovered, and so naturally he was all admiration for me, and shook my hand as though it was a pump handle.

'I feel it an honour to welcome you aboard, sir,' says he. 'I had no notion that such a thing … that such people as yourself, sir, were engaged in this work. By George, it's wonderful! My congratulations, sir!' And believe it or not, he actually saluted.

Well, I fancy I can carry off this sort of situation pretty well, you know. Modest and manly, that's Flashy when the compliments are flying, with a touch of a frown to show that my mind is really on serious matters. Which it was, because I knew I hadn't got farther than the first fence so far, and would have to tread delicately. But Captain Fairbrother was all eager assistance: what could he do to serve me? I confess I may have given him the impression that the entire slave trade could expect its coup de grace when once I'd laid my report before the British and American governments, and he was itching to help oil the wheels,

Have you noticed, once you have succeeded in convincing a man of something incredible, he believes it with an enthusiasm that he wouldn't dream of showing for an obvious, simple fact? It had been like that with Looney; now it was so with Fairbrother. He simply was all over me; I just had to sit back and let him arrange matters. First, I must be delivered to Washington with all speed; the bigwigs would be in a positive lather to see me — I doubted that, myself, but didn't say so. Nothing would do but he must carry me to Baltimore in his own brig, while the sioop could take the Balliol College into New Orleans with a prize crew — there, observes Mr Fairbrother darkly, the miscreants would meet with condign punishment for slavery, piracy, and attempted murder. Of course, I would give evidence eventually, but that could wait until Washington had been thrown into transports by my advent there.

Washington, I could see, was going to present problems; they wouldn't be as easy to satisfy as Captain Fairbrother, who was your genuine Northern nigger-lover and violently prejudiced in my favour. He was one of these direct, virtuous souls, bursting with decency, whose very thought was written plainly on his fresh, handsome face. Arnold would have loved him — and young Chard could have used a few of him at Rorke's Drift, too. Brainless as a bat, of course, and just the man for my present needs.

I impressed on him the need for not letting any of the Balliol College crew know what I truly was, and hinted at dangerous secret work yet to come which might be prejudiced if my identity leaked out. (That was no lie, either.) He agreed solemnly to this, but thought it would be an excellent plan to take some of the freed slaves to Washington, just for effect; 'tangible evidence, sir, of your noble and heroic endeavours in the great crusade against this vile traffic', I didn't object, and so about six yellows and Lady Caroline Lamb were herded aboard and bedded down somewhere in the bowels of the brig. Fairbrother wondered about Mrs Spring, whose presence on the College shocked and amazed him; they had caught her hurling Spring's log, papers, and accounts out of the cabin window, whereby much valuable evidence had been lost (that's all you know, I thought). Still, she was a woman… .

'Take her to New Orleans, is my advice,' says I. 'There are not two more diabolical creatures afloat than she and her fiend of a husband. How is he, by the way?'

'In a coma,' says Fairbrother. 'One of his own pirates shot him through the back, sir — what creatures they are, to be sure! He will live, I dare say — which is no great matter, since the New Orleans hangman will, if the fellow survives, have the duty of breaking his neck for him.'

Oh, the holy satisfaction of the godly — when it comes to delight in cruelty I'm just a child compared to them. His next remark didn't surprise me, either.

'But I am inconsiderate, Mr Comber — here have I been keeping you in talk over these matters, when your most urgent desire has surely bcen for a moment's privacy in which you might deliver up thanks to a merciful Heavenly Father for your delivery from all the dangers and tribulations you have undergone. Your pardon, sir.'

My urgent need was in fact for an enormous brandy and a square meal, but I answered him with my wistful smile.

'I need hardly tell you, sir, that in my heart I have rendered that thanks already, not only for myself but for those poor souls whom your splendid action had liberated. Indeed,' says I, looking sadly reflective, 'there is hardly a moment in these past few months that I have not spent in prayer.'

He gripped my hand again, looking moist, and then, thank God, he remembered at last that I had a belly, and gave orders for food and a glass of spirits while he went off, excusing himself, to splice the binnacle or clew up the heads, I shouldn't wonder.

Well, thinks I, so far so good, but we mustn't go too far. The sooner I could slip out of sight, the better, for while the Balliol College crew were alive and kicking there was always the risk that I would be given away. I didn't want to get the length of the British Embassy in Washington, for someone there might just know me, or worse still, they might know Comber. But for the moment, with the brig heading east by north, and the Balliol College making north under guard to Orleans, it was all sunshine for Harry — provided I didn't trip myself up. I was meant to be Navy, and Fairbrother and his officers were Navy also, so I must watch my tongue.

As it turned out, by playing the reserved Briton and steering the conversation as often as possible to India, about which they were curious, I passed the thing off very well. I had to talk some slavery, of course, and there was a nasty moment when I was almost drawn into a description of our encounter with the British sloop off Dahomey, but I managed to wriggle clear. It would have been easier, I think, with Englishmen, for Yankee bluebacks are deuced serious fellows, more concerned with their d––d ratlines and bobstays than with interesting topics like drink, women and cash. But I was very pious and priggish that voyage, and they seemed to respect me for it.

However, there was a human side, I discovered, even to the worthy Bible-thumping Fairbrother. I had made a great thing, the second day, of visiting the freed slaves and giving them some fatherly comfort — husbandly comfort would have been more like it, but with those sharp Yankee eyes on me I daren't even squeeze a rump. Lady Caroline Lamb was there, eyeing me soulfully, but I patted her head sternly and told her to be a good girl. What she made of this I can only guess, but that evening, when I was settling down in the berth I had been allotted aft, I was startled by a rapping on my door. It was Fairbrother, in some consternation.

'Mr Comber,' says he, 'there's one of those black women in my berth!'

'Indeed?' says I, looking suitably startled.

'My G-d, Mr Comber!' cries he. 'She's in there, now — and she's stark naked!'

I pondered this; it occurred to me that Lady Caroline Lamb, following her Balliol College training, had made her way aft and got into Fairbrother's cabin — which lay in the same place as my berth had done on the slaver. And being the kind of gently-reared fool that he was, Fairbrother was in a fine stew. He'd probably never seen a female form in his life.

'What shall I do?' says he. 'What can she want? I spoke to her — she's the big, very black one — but she has hardly any English, and she just stays there! She's kneeling beside my cot, sir!'

'Have you tried praying with her?' says I.

He goggled at me. 'Pray? Why, I … I don't know. She looks as though …' He broke off, going beetroot red.