Flash For Freedom!

'My G- d! Do you suppose that slaver captain has been… using her as … as a woman?'

Humanity never ceases to amaze me. Here was this fine lad, old enough to vote, in command of a hundred men and a fighting ship which he could handle like a young Nelson, brave as a bull, I don't doubt — and quivering like a virgin's fan because a buxom tart had invaded his cabin. It's this New England upbringing, of course; even a young manhood spent in naval service hadn't obliterated the effect of all those sermons.

'Do you suppose she has been … degraded?' says he, in a hushed voice.

'I fear it is more than likely, Captain Fairbrother,' says I. 'There is no depth unplumbed by their depravity. This unfortunate young woman may well have been trained to concubinage.'

He shuddered. 'Monstrous … terrible. But what am I to do?'

'I find it difficult to know what to advise,' says I. 'The situation is … unique in my experience. Perhaps you should tell her to go back to the quarters she has been allotted.'

'Yes, yes, of course, I must do that.' He hesitated, pulling at his lip. 'It is frightful to think of these ignorant young creatures being … misled … in that way.'

'We must do what we can for them,' says I.

'Indeed, indeed.' He cleared his throat nervously. 'I must apologise, Mr Comber, for disturbing you … I was startled, I confess … totally unexpected thing … yes. However, I shall do as you advise. My apologies again, sir. Thank you … er, and good night.'

He fairly fled into his cabin, that good pious lad, and I listened in vain thereafter for the sound of his door re- opening. Not that I expected it. Next day he avoided my eye, and went red whenever the slaves were mentioned. He probably still does, but I'll wager his conscience has never been quite strong enough to make him regret his lost innocence.

We made capital speed to Baltimore, which is just another port at the far end of the uninviting Chesapeake Bay, and from there, after Fairbrother had reported to his commodore, and the importance of my presence had been duly emphasised, we were taken by train to Washington, about forty miles off. I was getting fairly apprehensive by now, and looking sharp for a chance to make myself scarce — although what I would do then, in a strange country without any means of support, I couldn't imagine. I knew the longer I kept up my imposture, the more chance there was of being detected, but what could I do? Fairbrother, who had wangled leave from his commander to be my personal convoy to the capital, stuck like a leech; he was looking for a share of the glory, of course. So I just had to sit back and see what came — at worst, I decided, I could make a bolt for it, but in the meantime I would carry the thing through with a wide eye and a bold bluff front.

Washington is an odd place. You could see the Jonathans had designed it with an eye to the future, when they envisaged it as the finest city in the world, and even then, in '48, there were signs of building on every hand, with scaffolding about even in the middle of the city, and the outer roads all churned mud with the autumn rain, but fringed with fine houses half-completed. I got got to know it well in the Civil War time, but I never liked it — sticky as Calcutta or Madras in summer, and yet its people dressed as though they'd been in New York or London. I could always smell fever in the air there, and why George Washington ever chose the site beats me. But that's your rich colonial Englishman all over — never thinks twice about other people's convenience.

But sticky or not, the officials who lived there were d––d sharp men, as I discovered. Fairbrother delivered me at the Department of the Navy, where a white-whiskered admiral heard my tale and d––d his stars at every turn; then he handed me on to a section much like our Board of Trade, where several hardfaced civilians took up the running and I went through the thing again. They didn't seem to know what to make of me at all, at first, or what precisely they ought to do; finally, one of them, a fat little fellow called Moultrie, asked me exactly what could I contribute to the anti-slave trade campaign apart from giving evidence against the crew of the Balliol College? In other words, what was so remarkable about me that Washington was being troubled with me at all? Where was the important report that had been talked about by Captain Fairbrother?

Since it didn't exist, I had to invent it. I explained that I had gathered an immense amount of detail not only about the slavetraders, but about those in Britain and America who were behind them, supplying them with funds and ships, and organising their abominable activities under the cover of legitimate commerce. All this, I explained, I had committed to paper as opportunity arose, with such documents as I had been able to obtain, and I had earmarked useful witnesses along the way. I had consigned one report to a reliable agent at Whydah, and another to a second agent at Roatan — no, I dare not disclose their names except to my own chiefs in London. A third report I would certainly write out as soon as I could — a rueful smile here, and a reminder that life for me had been fairly busy of late.

'Yes, yes, sir,' says he, 'this is excellent, and very well, in its way. Your prudence about the disposal of your earlier reports is commendable. But from what you say you are obviously in possession of infonnation which must be of the first importance to the United States Government — information which Her Majesty's ministers would obviously communicate to us. You have names, you say, of Americans who are behind the slave trade — who, at least, are involved in it at a safe remove from slaving operations. Now, sir, here we have the root of the thing — these are the men we must bring to book. Who are those men?'

I took a deep breath, and tried to look like a man in mental struggle, while he and his two fellow-inquisitors waited, and the secretary sat with his pen poised.

'Mr Moultrie,' says I, 'I can't tell you. Please, sir — let me explain.' I solemnly checked his outburst. 'I have many names — both in my mind and in my reports. I don't know much about American public affairs, sir, but even I recognise some of them as — well, not insignificant names. Now if I were to name them to you — now — what would they be but names? The mass of evidence that would — that will — lead to their proven involvement in the traffic in black souls, is already on its way to England, as I trust. Obviously it will be communicated to you, and these people can be proceeded against. But if I were to name names now, sir' — I stabbed a finger on the table — 'you could do nothing; you would have to wait on the evidence which has been assembled. And while I trust your discretion perfectly, gentlemen — it would be an impertinence to do otherwise — we all know how a word once spoken takes wings. Premature disclosure, and consequent warning, might enable some of these birds to escape the net. And believe me, gentlemen …' I gritted my teeth and forced moisture into my eyes '… believe me, I have not gone through the hell of those Dahomey raids, and watched the torture of those poor black creatures on the Middle Passage — I have not risked death and worse — in order to see those butchers escape!'

Well, it wasn't a bad performance, and it took them pretty well aback. Moultrie looked d––d solemn, and his pals wore the alarmed expression of men in the presence of a portent they didn't understand. Then Moultrie says:

'Yes … I see. You are in no doubt, sir … of the consequence

that is, the importance, of some of those implicated? Do you suggest that … when all is known … their would be a, er, a political scandal, perhaps?'

I gave my mirthless laugh. 'I may indicate that best, sir, by assuring you that among the Britons whom I know to be involved in the traffic — and whose complicity can be proved, sir — are two peers of the realm and one whose name was, until lately, to be found among Her Majesty's Ministers. And I believe, sir, that the American names include men of comparable stature. The profits of the slave trade, sir, are immense enough to tempt the highest. Judge whether a scandal may be expected.'

He was regarding me round-eyed. 'Mr Comber,' says he, 'your knowledge makes you a very dangerous young man.'

'And therefore,' says I, smiling keenly, 'you would say — a very endangered young man? I am used to risk, sir. It is my trade.' I was almost believing it myself by now, so I wasn't surprised that they took it in. So much so, that being Yankees, and no fools, they made me go through my whole yarn again — from the Channel to Whydah, Gezo's village, our escape, the voyage west, Roatan, and all the rest — in the hope of my slipping out some information unawares, But since I didn't have any they were wasting their time. Finally they conferred while I cooled my heels, and announced that they would discuss matters with the British Ambassador, and in the meantime I would hold myself ready to go to New Orleans to testify against the Balliol College.

I didn't fancy this, at all, but again there was nothing to be done at the moment. So I bowed, and later that day I was hailed to the Ambassador's house-a very decent old stick, and a pleasant change from those yapping Jonathan voices. I was a shade wary in case he, or any of his people, might by a chance in a thousand be acquainted with the real Comber, but all was well. I told my story for a fourth time, and that evening, when he bade me to dinner with him, I went through it yet again for the entertainment of his guests. And I'll swear I didn't put a