Night Birds On Nantucket (13 page)

‘Where's the old professor gone?' one of them said.

‘Oh, he likes to mooch about the wood on his own in the evening. He's everlasting on the lookout for the black-crowned night-heron or some sich foolishness. He's all right, don't fret about him, he won't go far.'

‘I'd rather he stayed in camp, just the same.'

With a start, Dido recognized this voice as Mr Slighcarp's. She gave Nate's shin a gentle kick. He nodded.

‘When's the
Dark Diamond
due?' another voice asked.

‘Any day now.'

‘Thank the lord. I can justabout do with a decent smoke. I'm
cheesed-off
with smoking peat and eating shellfish. Will the ship wait and take us off at the same time's she leaves the charge and shot?'

‘Depends on how the professor makes out. If he can
finish before she gets here, fine; we can blast off and then clear out.'

‘What about your sister?'

‘Take her too, o' course.'

‘But ain't she
wanted
over there?'

‘Well, so are most of us wanted, aren't we?' Mr Slighcarp said impatiently. ‘But don't you see, things'll be different in England by the time we get back?'

‘Oh, ah, so they will. O' course. I'd forgot. But, say, how'll we
know
? Suppos'n old Breadno makes a mistake? We don't want to go sailing over and put our heads into a hank-noose and end up on Tyburn!'

‘We'll sail to Hanover first, dunderhead! The news will have reached them by then.'

‘Aye, that would be best,' the other voice agreed gloomily. ‘I does so
long
to get my chops round a bit o' British bubble-and-squeak.'

‘Bubble-and-squeak! It'll be roast goose and champagne when you get it, cully!'

‘I'm going to look for the professor,' Mr Slighcarp said uneasily. He rose to his feet.

At this moment one of the lobsters Dido carried, which had been squirming more and more vigorously, escaped from her grip and fell into a bush. She grabbed it.

‘Hark! What was that?' Mr Slighcarp said, turning sharply.

‘It's only the professor, guvnor, here he comes.'

By a great piece of good fortune the man to whom Dido had given the boots – apparently the professor referred to – stepped into the clearing at this moment.

‘Hey there, Professor Breadno, see some good night birds?'

‘We're all justabout night birds if you ask me,' yawned one of the men. ‘I'm going to turn in.'

Dido kicked at Nate's shin again and began to step delicately backwards. She was apprehensive of another accident with the lobsters. Nate waited for a few more minutes before following, but presently joined her on the edge of the forest.

‘Did you hear any more?' she breathed.

‘Nope. They were asking the prof where he got his boots and he said he found 'em in a bog.'

‘I wonder if they'll believe him. What a parcel of peevy coves, eh? Regular mill-kens.'

‘I still can't make out what they're at,' Nate said, as they hurried silently back to the path. ‘They seem to be Hanoverians, that's plain, but what the mischief are they doing in Nantucket? We ain't got none o' your fancy kings over here, a plain president's good enough for us.'

‘It's plumb mysterious,' Dido agreed. ‘Tell you what, though, I'll take the little professor cove some cakes – if I can slip past old Mortification – and try to get a bit more outa him. Supposin' I can make out what he means.'

‘I'm glad I came back home,' Nate said. ‘I think it's downright rusty the way these lowdown deadbeats make themselves at home in our island, and whatever deviltry they're plotting, I think they ought to be rousted out someway.'

‘I'm agreeable,' Dido said. ‘Specially if Aunt
Tribulation's one of 'em. I allus thought she was a no-good. What d'you think we ought to do, Nate?'

‘I'll think, and let you know. I'll stay home for a piece, anyhow. My Ma'll be quite glad to have me minding the sheep and helping with the chores. I won't try to get another ship till the
Sarah Casket
comes back. I'd sooner ship with Cap'n Casket, when he's better, I'm used to him.'

‘If he
gets
better,' Dido said doubtfully. ‘If he don't I reckon I'm stuck here for life.'

‘Well there's plenty wuss places than Nantucket you could be stuck in.'

As they were by now a good way from the forest, Nate burst into song:

‘I do wonder what those scallions is up to,' Dido speculated.

‘Well, whatever it is, it's bad business. I'll tell you one thing, chick.'

‘What's that?'

‘That there pipe of Pen's ain't no pipe but a
gun
– and it's the longest gun I ever laid eyes on!'

‘Croopus!' said Dido. ‘That's why the ship's coming with powder and shot. But who're they going to shoot, d'you reckon?'

‘Search me. But whoever it is, they've gotter be stopped.'

TO DIDO'S SURPRISE
and concern there were still lights burning in the farm as she approached. Surely it was long past the usual hour for bedtime? Did this mean that Aunt Tribulation had seen through Pen's story of the straying sow and was waiting up to conduct an inquiry? Prudently, she hid the pair of lobsters in a bush lest they should lead to questions.

When Dido walked into the kitchen, however, she saw at once that the unusual wakefulness was not on her account. The stove was roaring, a large black kettle steamed, Pen was anxiously heating a poultice, while Aunt Tribulation, with a grim expression, aired blankets, nightcaps, and chest-protectors before the fire.

‘Oh, Dido!' Pen exclaimed. ‘Papa is dreadfully unwell, he is in a fever! I have tried him with everything, balsam and cordial and rheumatic pills, but none of them did him any good. He tosses and turns so, and throws off the bedclothes; he seems to think he is in a boat.'

‘Did you find the sow, miss?' Aunt Tribulation snapped at Dido.

‘She's in the barn,' Dido replied. ‘D'you think we should get a doctor?' she said to Pen.

‘Oh, I do! Would you go for one, Dido?'

‘A doctor will hardly thank you for fetching him out at this hour,' Aunt Tribulation remarked sourly. ‘Here, child, take these warm things up to your father,
I'm
going to bed. I've done all that can be expected in my delicate state of health.'

‘Isn't she perfectly hateful,' Pen whispered when Aunt Tribulation had departed. ‘She doesn't seem to care a
bit
about poor Papa. As for her “delicate state of health” I don't believe there was ever a thing wrong with her.' Pen was distractedly looking through the store cupboard in search of more remedies. ‘What's in this jar?' Can you read the label, Dido? It's dear Mamma's tiniest writing. I can't make it out.' Impatiently she rubbed the tears from her eyes. ‘Oh, Dido, supposing Papa were to
die
?'

‘We shan't suppose any such nonsense,' Dido said firmly. ‘Huckleberries in gin, this is, smells like stingo stuff. Try them on him, Penny, see if he likes 'em.'

They hurried upstairs with the warm clothes and the poultice, the pot of huckleberries, and a stone jar full of boiling water for the captain's feet.

It was very difficult to get him wrapped up and poulticed. As Pen had said, he kept throwing himself about, crying, ‘Towno! Towno! Alow from aloft! I'm all beset, bring to! Give it to her, she's pitching. Her spiracle's under . . . Stern all, we're stove!'

He sprang up in bed, and the poultice flew across the room.

‘Never mind the dratted poultice,' Dido said at last in exasperation. ‘It's all cold and dusty by now anyways. Here, you hold his hands a moment while I try to slip some o' these huckleberries down him. Hold tight!'

Pen held on manfully. ‘Papa! Don't you know me?' she pleaded. ‘It's Penitence!'

‘Thar she blows!' shouted Captain Casket. But as he kept his mouth open to prolong the bellow, Dido neatly popped in a spoonful of the huckleberries. The captain immediately shut his mouth. He swallowed. A surprised expression came over his face.

‘Quick! Another spoonful!' whispered Pen.

When Dido raised the spoon again he opened his mouth eagerly, and she was able to feed him the rest of the potful without difficulty. He murmured to himself,
‘Truly it has been a wonderful summer for the fruit, wonderful! We must all –'

His eyelids fluttered down and he suddenly fell back on the pillow, fast asleep.

‘
That's
a mussy,' Dido said. ‘Now let's snug him up warm and then as soon as it's light, Pen, I'll go for the doctor. D'you know his name?'

‘No, but anyone in Nantucket town would be able to tell you.'

They wedged the captain about with hot bottles and laid several comforters on him. Pen sat down by him, anxiously holding his hand. Since her father had come home, needing her help, Pen was a changed creature. She seemed to have thrown aside her needless fears and become quite practical and self-reliant. But just the same, Dido could see that this was no time to burden her with the tale of the conspirators in the wood; Captain Casket's illness was enough to worry about.

It did not seem worth trying to sleep as there wanted but an hour to daylight; instead Dido fed the animals and harnessed Mungo to the cart.

‘I'm off, now, Dutiful,' she called softly up the stairs. ‘I'll be as quick as I can.'

Jumping into the cart, she shook up the reins, and started Mungo at a rattling pace towards Nantucket town. One thing, she thought, it's nice to get away from Auntie Trib for a bit. I hope she don't give poor Pen the runaround while I'm gone; likely she'll sleep a good while yet as she was up so late.

The day was a fine one and her spirits rose. Dawn had flooded the upland commons with ruddy light and crimsoned the distant line of the sea. Old Rosie would
look just the thing out there now, Dido said to herself. For the first time she recalled Nate's strange tale of how the pink whale had seemed to welcome Captain Casket. A rummy business altogether, Dido reflected. Sounded as if old Rosie had taken a fancy to him somewhere and remembered him, but why? He wasn't so handsome, why should she go out of her way to put down the red carpet for him?

Mungo was suffering from several days' lack of exercise and bolted along so fast that when they descended the gentle incline into Nantucket town it was still quite early. Not many people were about in the cobbled streets. Dido bore right towards the waterfront and left Mungo tethered to a post in Whale Street while she asked her way on foot.

‘Old Doc Mayhew?' said a fisherman on the wharf. ‘He lives on Orange Street. That ain't but a few minutes from here.'

The doctor lived in a handsome white house, Quaker style, with a fanlight and three windows on each floor. Dido banged loudly on the door and told the housekeeper that Doctor Mayhew was wanted urgently.

‘He ain't taken but a mouthful of breakfast. Could you wait ten minutes?'

‘Oh well, I guess Cap'n Casket won't die in that time,' Dido agreed. She was dying for some breakfast herself and strolled back, looking for a baker's shop, but was soon startled by a familiar voice, calling in the next street:

‘Nate!' Dido exclaimed, and ran into Main Street, where she found Nate making his way slowly along in a small pony cart laden with trays of delicacies, presumably made by Mrs Pardon.

‘Hallo, chick!' he said when he saw her, and then filled his lungs again and shouted:

A number of housewives came to their doors and bought his wares, which included doughnuts, biscuits, and waffles.

Children came running for the dazzlingly coloured candy sticks.

He called: