His confidence was no comfort. As I watched the snowflakes settle and melt on his straining back, I wondered what other surprises he had in store for me. He had never said that he did not have another deal with Hawkins, and I would not put it past him to double-cross me.
Miss Miller sat at the other end of the boat, her head bowed. She only raised it as we neared the ship.
‘Let me go first, Sister Catherine,’ she said. ‘The captain might listen to me if he is a godly man.’
Billy gave a snort of laughter and spat over the side. ‘Captain Janssen, a godly man? Pah! You know wot, lady, you’re almost as funny as Moggy ’ere.’
That did not sound very encouraging.
Billy put two fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp whistle. ‘Ahoy there, Phoenix! Three to come aboard.’
A sailor peered over the side, holding out a lantern. Seeing there were ladies involved, he let down the chair – a piece of tackle a bit like a wooden swing – to hoist Miss Miller up. I did not wait for it to be lowered back down. I followed Billy up the rope ladder.
Arriving on deck, I saw Miss Miller in earnest conversation with a large man with white-blond hair, a hooked nose and a thin mouth – Captain Janssen. Billy lolled against the rail and waved me forward.
‘At ’im, Cat! I won’t get in the way if I watch from ’ere, will I?’
I gave him a sarcastic smile and hurried to Miss Miller’s side. Twenty or so sailors had stopped work to watch the altercation.
‘Thou art holding the boy against his will,’ she was arguing. ‘In the name of humanity, thou must let him free.’
‘I am a reasonable man, lady,’ rumbled the captain in a deep voice with a Scandinavian accent. ‘But my passenger claims the boy is his servant. It is no business of mine to interfere.’
‘But it is!’ Miss Miller may have been almost a foot shorter in stature than the captain, but she made up for it in the grandeur of her manner. ‘It is thy duty as a Christian to defend the weak.’
He seemed to find the idea highly amusing. ‘Hey, you hear that, bosun – me, the defender of the weak!’
‘Aye, captain, the weak don’t last long on your ship. You give ’em a helping hand over the side if they’re on the way out,’ growled the bosun as he sucked on the stem of his pipe.
I shivered at these words. Of course Hawkins’ preferred vessel would be owned by a slaver of the very worst sort – I should’ve anticipated that. We were not going to get anywhere by appealing to his better nature – he didn’t have one.
‘I have no time to talk religion with you, lady,’ said Captain Janssen, turning away. ‘I have a ship to take out on the tide and unless you want to come with me to Jamaica, I suggest you return to shore.’
Miss Miller hooked his arm with the end of her umbrella. ‘I haven’t finished with thee yet, my man,’ she scolded. ‘Don’t they teach manners where thou comest from? Dost thou not know that it’s rude to turn thy back to a lady?’
I guessed that Miss Miller also knew it was fruitless to try and win him over and had switched to doing her best to distract and delay him. If we could just make enough fuss to stop the ship sailing until Mr Sharp arrived, we might stand a chance of saving Pedro. I would use the time she had bought us to find my friend and see if I could set him free.
‘Bosun, clear the deck of strangers,’ Janssen growled.
‘Not before I’ve taught thee how to behave as becomes a Christian gentleman,’ cried Miss Miller in a shrill voice.
Entertained by Miss Miller’s loud sermon to their captain as to the shortcomings in his upbringing, the crew did not try to stop me as I slipped away to search the ship. My hunt did not last long as no attempt had been made to hide Pedro. He was chained to the main mast, surrounded by a ring of gentlemen, chief among them Kingston Hawkins. My friend looked desperate, sitting with his arms around his legs, clearly freezing in the snowy weather.
‘Your health, gentlemen,’ Hawkins said, raising a glass to his companions. ‘To my boy’s happy homecoming.’
‘You said Kemble would never get away with stealing him from you and you were right!’ said an elderly man I recognized as Dr Juniper from the billiard room. ‘You’ll make an example of him when you get back, I suppose? This boy’s a rotten apple – leave him in the barrel and the whole place will rot.’
‘Oh yes, replied Hawkins, he’ll hang high and hang long. There won’t be any sad violins playing at his funeral.’
The gentleman laughed.
‘Such a shame his capital value has been spoilt by all this. He could’ve made you a lot of money,’ said another man, taking a pinch of snuff from a gold box.
‘I’ll willingly sacrifice all that to rub those abolitionists’ noses in it when they see what they made me do to him.’
‘You’re a good man, Hawkins,’ said Dr Juniper, patting him on the back.
They made me sick, these slavers! I could feel myself shaking with rage but now was no time for an outburst. I crept up silently to within feet of Pedro and hunkered down behind a coop of sleepy chickens, waiting for an opportunity to catch his attention. His eyes were closed and his lips moving soundlessly as if praying for a miracle. I wished I could reach out and touch him: he looked so alone.
While I was debating what best to do, I heard oars splashing in the darkness, followed by the bump of a vessel coming alongside. Next came raised voices from the stern.
‘I say, what’s going on?’ asked Dr Juniper, looking up.
‘Just some mad old woman trying to free that there slave of yours,’ explained a passing sailor.
‘Radicals and madmen,’ said Dr Juniper, shaking his head. ‘That’s what the abolitionists are.’