questions to learn more of events which were no more than mentioned in the letter. Then did he conclude by sitting down at his desk and writing out the document of temporary appointment which Sir John had requested. In addition, he wrote a letter of his own to the Commanding Officer of the Tower, another old chum of his, said he to me with a wink-”actually a cousin.”
“You must take this to Colonel Murray forthwith,” Lord Mansfield continued, ”and he will provide Sir John with a small contingent of mounted troops. Sir John may use them as he sees fit. That should help even things up a bit, eh?”
“Oh yes,” said I, ”that will help considerably.”
The rest of the day was taken up with the delivery of the remaining letters, which entailed a good deal of racing about from one destination to the next. Colonel Murray provided no problem. He simply read through Lord Mansfield’s missive, smiled, and assured me that the requested troops would be provided and should arrive in Deal sometime during the day after tomorrow-or upon that night.
“And where should they report to your fellow, Sir John?”
“To Number Eighteen Middle Street, sir. And if I might make a suggestion?”
“By all means.”
“A daylight arrival and a ride down High Street might be best. A show of force would be in order.”
“Very well, you shall have it.”
Thus I left the Tower in a state of high elation-only to begin what proved to be the most taxing of the errands, which was the delivery of Sir John’s letter to Mr. John Bilbo.
First, I set off for his residence in St. James Street. It was yet early in the day, and so I had every hope of catching him there before he left for his gaming club in Mayfair. Nevertheless, by the time I arrived, he had gone. Nor was Bunkins present to advise me on any change in plans his ”cove,” Mr. Bilbo, might have made for that day. All that could be said was told me by Mr. Burnham, Bunkins’s tutor. According to him, both Mr. Bilbo and Jimmie Bunkins had left together for the club.
And so I went on to Mayfair to find them. By that time, it was into the afternoon. Upon my arrival, I found the crew of cleaners busy at work, preparing the place for its evening opening at seven. A dealer of cards sat in the main gaming room, performing feats of sleight of hand with the deck for his own amusement. I waited respectfully for his attention. When he withheld it, I could do naught but shout for it.
“Where’s Black Jack?”
He stopped and looked me up and down. ”You know him well enough to call him so?”
“I know him well enough-and Bunkins even better.”
“Then you should know where the two of them spend most of their time these days.”
“In Wapping at the dry-dock.”
“Ah, then you do know a little something, don’t you?” He gave me a smirk he may have meant for a smile. ”Well, they’ve just left for Wapping, but the sloop is no longer in dry-dock. It’s in the slip next on.”
“Thank you,” said I as I turned and headed for the door.
“Better see them today, if that’s your intention. They’ll not be about for long.” He called it to my back. Turning, I saw that he had gone back to his amusements. I nodded and stepped outside.
I did not like the fellow. He acted entirely too pleased with himself. I wondered how long he had been in the employ of Mr. Bilbo-and how long he would remain so. He did not seem the right sort.
The prospect of walking to Wapping had little appeal. Footsore and bone-tired from my journey from Deal, I thought it right to travel to my next destination in style: I would take a hackney-one from that line there at the end of the street. Time also was a consideration. Having missed Mr. Bilbo and Bunkins twice afoot, I could not afford to miss them again. Thus, bolstered by logic, I rode.
It was, by any measure, a considerable journey. We hugged the river except near Tower Hill, where it was not possible. Peeking out at the crowded streets, seeing the waves of people pouring this way and that over the kerbs and sidewalks, I wondered how I might find my place among them. As I grew older, I found myself thinking more and more (and not always optimistically) about how I might make my way in the world. It would not be long, after all, until such conjecture must be replaced by action. Jimmie Bunkins and I often talked of this; he was as much perplexed about the possible direction of his own life as I was about my own situation.
In this way do such heavy thoughts often catch us unawares.
The last part of my ride, which was taken along Wapping Dock, led past ships loading and unloading, fitting and refitting. I looked sharp at the docks and slips along the way that I might not be conveyed past the one which sheltered the
Mr. Bilbo’s sloop lay half in and half out the water at a slight angle, ready to be launched into the Thames. All glistening and new-looking it was from the many coats of varnish it had received. I saw that the tempo of work had increased markedly since last I visited. Where earlier workmen had walked about in a manner near casual, they now scrambled about from one end of the deck to the other. And in the middle of all this stood Black Jack Bilbo, shouting directions and encouragement, reminding them, none too gently, of their obligations.
“If you’re lookin’ to get paid tonight, gents, you’d best finish the job.”
Then did he give his attention to another group, one which seemed not to be performing to his high expectations. ”Work, lads,” he hectored them,
And so it went. I watched, fascinated, for minutes as he hammered away at them with threats, a few blandishments, and occasional curses. Yet at last I reminded myself of the business at hand.
He turned round and looked in my direction, squinting a bit against the afternoon sun.
“Ah, Jeremy, it’s you, is it? Permission granted.”
I made my way carefully across the gangplank, finding that the slight slant of the deck made quite a difference when out on the board between slip and sloop. In any case, I made it across and found Mr. Bilbo waiting at the far end to steady me as I jumped down.
“Good lad!” said he. ”How goes it down there on the east coast? Has Sir John come back with you?”
“No, he sent me back with letters to deliver. One of them’s for you.”
With that, I brought it out and handed it over. From some secret pocket he produced a pair of spectacles and carefully hooked them over his ears. Putting the sun to his back, he broke the seal and read the letter. When he had done, he folded it with a dark frown and tucked it away.
“It sounds bad,” said he.
“It
“Well, as it happens, we’ll be leaving here on the morning tide on a run down through the Channel, to Cornwall and return, just as a test voyage, as you might say. Sir John’s asked that I bring you and a pair of his Bow Street Runners with us to Gravesend. I can do that with no trouble at all. He says that he’ll meet us there, for he has something to discuss with me which he’d prefer not to commit to paper. Do you have any idea what that’s about, Jeremy?”
“None at all,” said I.
“Hmmm, well, I’ll find out when we get there, I suppose. In the meantime, you’d like to talk to Bunkins, would you?”
“I would.”
“He’s belowdecks. Go find him. He’ll show you round the vessel. I do believe that he’s as proud of the
I took my leave of him and went, as I’d been told, to search out Jimmie B.
Finding him offered no difficulty; keeping him was quite another matter. He was overseeing the finishing touches to be put upon the cabins belowdecks and seemed to be taking his responsibilities every bit as seriously as his cove. And so likewise did he use the same devices upon those doing the work. He railed at some and encouraged others, shook his finger at some and patted others upon the back. Yet it was all taken in good stead, and the work continued at the same furious pace below as on deck.
As Bunkins called the attention of one of the carpenters to a bit of indifferent sanding, I interrupted with a hand upon his shoulder. He whirled about, ready for anything (like the street boy he once had been), but then,
