The door swung open. 'In there, both of you!'

Polly and Kirsty, both in their orange-sellers' outfits, and holding their trays of oranges before them, walked into the room followed by the Sergeant, who grabbed each by the arm. The Sergeant was the same one who had pursued the girls on the moor. 'Come over and see the officer, both of you,' he said.

As they made their way across the room, the Doctor looked up from his beer and recognised them. He looked down again immediately in case they saw him and gave away his presence.

The Sergeant pushed the girls before him through the room amidst the murmurs and comments of the troops and townsfolk to Algernon's booth.

Algernon opened his eyes wearily. 'Oh, Sergeant,' he said in a bored voice, 'w-w-what is it now?'

'Take your hands off me,' snapped Kirsty.

'Kirsty, be quiet,' said Polly.

Kirsty shook her head. 'I'm not going to have a great ignorant Englishman laying hands on me.'

The Sergeant gave Polly and Kirsty a final shove, then saluted Algernon.

Polly saw Algernon and clapped her hands in pleasure, almost upsetting the orange tray around her neck in the process. 'Algernon,' she cried, 'Algernon.'

Algernon looked up in dawning horror. 'What... what?'

'These two look like the rebels we was hunting yesterday, Sir,' said the Sergeant.

Polly sat down in the seat beside Algernon and rested her head against his shoulder. 'Tell the nasty man we're not those rebels, Algy dear.'

Algernon drew back. 'Now just a moment,' he said.

Kirsty swung herself into the seat opposite. 'Aye,' she said, 'we're old friends, aren't we, Lieutenant!'

The Sergeant glanced from one to the other. He knew the Lieutenant's ways with women and these obviously were very familiar with him. 'I can see that,' he said.

Algernon looked up. 'That's all, Sergeant,' he said, 'go about your business.'

Some of the men standing close by began to laugh, much to Algernon's discomfiture, but the Sergeant turned and withered them with a glance. 'Right,' he said, 'time you men were back in barracks. Do you think the King pays you to idle here all night? Come on, come on... the last man out gets three lashes.'

The soldiers yawned, protesting, and rose to their feet as the Sergeant almost pushed them out of the room.

Once the soldiers had gone, the room was a lot quieter.

The Doctor shifted from the bench he was sitting at over to the booth next to the Lieutenant and the two girls, and leaned forward to hear better.

Algernon looked from one to the other. 'This is really t-t-too much,' he said.

Polly pouted. 'Oh, Algy,' she said, 'we thought you might have been flattered. We turned to you for help immediately we were in trouble, didn't we Kirsty?'

Kirsty had now picked up something of the easy banter of the London girl. 'Aye,' she said, 'just the kind of person two defenceless girls would turn to in trouble.'

'I can have you thrown in prison,' threatened Algernon, trying to be fierce.

Polly looked up at the ceiling, quoting from his ident.i.ty disc. 'Lieutenant Algernon Thomas Alfred Ffinch of the '

'Stop! Stop!' Algernon looked around, and the Doctor withdrew back into his part.i.tion to keep out of sight.

'What more do you want of me,' he said, feeling very sorry for himself. 'You've got my money. I haven't even got the price of a gla.s.s of wine on me.'

Polly's voice and manner changed. 'I don't suppose the Doctor and the others have water to drink, never mind wine. Now, where are the prisoners?' she said, in a hard, business-like tone of voice.

Algernon shrugged his shoulders unhappily. 'How should I know? In prison, I expect. Where they belong.'

Kirsty shook her head. 'They're no there, we've checked. Now where are they?'

Algernon spread his hands. 'I don't know. I just round them up. You have to ask Solicitor Grey, he's the Commissioner in charge of prisoners.'

'Where can we find him?' said Polly.

'He has a room here in the inn. Now please, can I go?

It's been a very long day. I had to fight a battle this morning, and now there's you two...'

'Oh, poor little fellow,' said Polly sarcastically. 'Go on then.'

She got up and allowed Algernon Ffinch to ease out of the part.i.tion and straighten himself. 'But mind,' she warned, 'not a word to anyone or you-know-what.'

Algernon nodded and started making his way to the door. As he went the Doctor rose to join Polly and Kirsty, but suddenly the door opened and in came Perkins. The Doctor abruptly sat down again, lowering his head so that his face was covered by the large mob-cap.

Algernon nodded to Perkins at the door. 'Two wenches over there,' he said, pointing over to Polly and Kirsty, 'to see the Solicitor.' He then leaned forward and added, 'Frankly, he's welcome to them.' He then went out, slamming the door behind him.

Perkins glanced over and seeing two pretty girls in the booth, smiled. Despite his years and his egg-like appearance, he fanced himself as something of a ladies'

man. He waddled across the room to the girls and looked from one to the other. 'Cedric Perkins, Solicitor's Clerk, at your service, ladies. What can I do for you?' There was something over-familiar and insinuating in Perkins' voice and manner that made the two girls draw back slightly.

'Where is Mr Grey?' said Polly.

'The Commissioner,' Perkins said with dignity, 'is seeing to his duties, Miss. He's giving some rebel prisoners the choice between life and death.'

In the hold of the brig, Solicitor Grey stood by the ladder leading down to the crowded hold, some parchments in his hand. Standing beside him, Trask, more threatening than ever, was playing with a long cat-o'-nine-tails whip a collection of knotted strips of leather bound to a wooden handle, and the most feared means of punishment at sea.

'Silence, you bilge rats,' Trask shouted. 'The Solicitor has news for ye.'

The men in the hold who had been muttering to themselves now fell silent.

'Rebels,' said Grey, 'your attention, please. I have an offer of clemency from his Gracious Majesty King George.'

There was a murmur of protest at this.

'Quiet!' Trask's huge voice rang round the room again.

He cracked the whip at the nearest man, who drew back clutching his arm in pain. The room quietened down again.

Grey looked reflectively around the room. 'The clemency can be withdrawn, so hark ye.'

'We're listening.' A voice came from the back of the hold, and Trask p.r.i.c.ked his ears up as he recognised the familiar voice of w.i.l.l.y MacKay.

'It has pleased His Majesty,' said Grey, 'to declare that whereas there are a great many of his rebellious subjects in gaol, a speedy example must be made of them.'

'Clemency,' Colin's voice carried on from the back of the hold.

'Clemency,' Grey repeated. 'Therefore it is ordained that there will be those required as witnesses to turn King's evidence.'

'Traitors, you mean,' Jamie called out.

Grey smiled a thin cold smile that made his long narrow face even more forbidding. 'Those not wanting to turn King's evidence will be hanged immediately,' he said.

A storm of protest broke out at this. Trask waved his cat-o'-nine-tails and strode forward, and the murmurs died down.

'Wait, Mr Trask,' Grey called. Trask, who was about to start belabouring the defenceless men around him, lowered the whip. 'There is one other alternative.' Grey turned and beckoned up the ladder, and two seamen, the first carrying a small table, the second an inkstand and a pen, came down. Both men were armed with two long pistols at their belts. Grey held up the sheaf of papers. 'Plantation workers are wanted for His Majesty's colonies in the West Indies. I have here contracts for seven years. Sign your names to these and you will have free transportation to your new homes and a chance of liberty when your seven years'

indentures are completed.'

His words seemed to cast a spell over the room. The men who a few minutes before had been looking forward to almost certain death now began to take in the meaning of Grey's words and their faces lightened.

'I'm offering you life and hope,' said Grey. 'Who will be the first to sign?'

One of the Highlanders stood up and walked forward to the table. Grey spread the top contract form and dipped the pen in the ink, handing it to the man. The Highlander bent down when w.i.l.l.y stood up abruptly at the back of the hold, his voice ringing over the a.s.sembled prisoners.

'Dinna touch that pen!' He made his way forward through the men. 'I ken fine what ye offer, Solicitor,' he said. 'I've seen these West Indies plantations. Not one of you who sign that doc.u.ment will live your seven years.

Better a quick and honourable death at the end of King George's rope than a slow living death of constant toil, lashings and yellow fever.'

The Highlanders were now deeply split and argued furiously among themselves.

Grey turned to Trask. 'Who is that man?' he said.

Trask mouthed grimly, 'w.i.l.l.y MacKay, former master of this vessel.'

Grey nodded, understandingly. 'Ah, I see,' he said.

Trask's hand felt for the b.u.t.t of a long horse pistol sticking out of his pocket. 'We should have disposed of him long ago.' He moved forward through the hold, but Grey grabbed him by the arm.

'No,' said Grey, 'not now. Later perhaps, Trask, later,'

he whispered. He raised his hand for silence. 'Listen to me.

You have heard what Master MacKay offers you: death with honour if that's what you call it, lingering at the end of a halter. Followed by quartering, and the like courtesies reserved for His Majesty's rebels. What I offer is life, and a chance to work for your liberty.'

w.i.l.l.y shook his head bitterly. 'Liberty,' he scorned; but the men were beginning to disregard him, and elbow him back into the crowd.

'Make your choice,' called Grey. 'Those who wish to sign step over here.' He indicated the left side of the hold.

'And those who wish to hang or...' An idea struck him, a clever, legalistic idea, playing on the ingrained loyalty of the Highland men. 'Of course,' he said, 'turn King's evidence...' he bowed slightly to w.i.l.l.y MacKay '... over there.'

There was a moment's silence as the Highlanders looked uncertainly at one another, then began to move to the left-hand side. By a brilliant stroke, Grey had made it seem that those who would not join the men contracted to the West Indies plantations had in mind betraying their fellows and turning King's evidence against them.

Jamie moved forward and stood beside w.i.l.l.y, realising the implications of the situation. 'The fools!' he said.

'Stop!' cried w.i.l.l.y. 'Stop men!' But eventually, only Colin, Jamie, w.i.l.l.y and Ben were left on the right-hand side of the hold; the rest formed a long line and began making their signatures, crosses or thumbprints on the sheets of parchment.

Grey looked over and counted. 'Only four for the gallows, I think,' he said.

'Ben!' Jamie was shocked to see Ben go up to the signing table.

'What about me?' said Ben, 'can I sign?'

Grey smiled and waved his hand down at the paper.

'I can read, you know,' said Ben. 'Can I read it first?'

Ben pushed into the line of men and bent over the table.

The next instant he seized the three sheets of fine parchment and tore them into pieces.

Trask spun forward, swung the heavy handle of his cat-o'-nine tails, and knocked Ben unconscious onto the deck.

w.i.l.l.y and Jamie moved forward, but the sailors beside Trask levelled their pistols at their chests and said to stand back.

For once Grey showed his anger. 'Clap him into irons,'

he said. 'When I return with the new contracts, bind him and drop him from the yard-arm.' He turned and climbed out of the hold as the sailors bent down, picked up the unconscious Ben, and loaded him on their shoulders.

12.

The Little Auld Lady Perkins, meanwhile, was sitting with a flagon of sherry in front of him, facing a nervous Polly and Kirsty, and obviously enjoying playing with them as a cat plays with a mouse. In the next part.i.tion the Doctor sat listening, but unable to act.

Polly started to get up. 'Mr Grey doesn't seem to be coming, does he?' she said. 'I think we'd better be off.'

Perkins leaned across and restrained her from going.