Read Ghost Messages Online

Authors: Jacqueline Guest

Tags: #Finians, #Novel, #Chapter Book, #Middle Reader, #Historical, #Ghost, #Mystery, #Adventure, #Atlantic Crossing, #Telegraph Cable, #Irish

Ghost Messages (12 page)

BOOK: Ghost Messages
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Paddy disappeared for a long while, then true to his word, came to get her. His timing was perfect as Ailish was about to stop for a bite to eat.

“Our crew chief’s a nasty one, but no quitter,” Paddy said as they made their way belowdecks. “He wanted me in the tank so he could demand my money again or he’d expose me. He said the incident last night would prove my guilt, or that’s how everyone on board would see it.”

Ailish knew the lengths the man would go to. “I’m amazed at how hard Mr. Dalton works for other people’s fortunes. Come on, we have to plead for a stay of execution for Dimples and son.”

They spoke to the cook and though Ailish couldn’t prove it, she was sure money was exchanged as Henry assured her the pets would be safe. His only stipulation was that she had to take them with her once they reached shore as he didn’t want to explain to the captain how these two escaped the menu.

– - • – –

Ailish and Paddy had no sooner returned to the
deck when the air was rent by the sound they all dreaded –
the terrible gong. She shuddered, wanting to cover her ears to block out the ominous tolling.

The ship sprang to life. Orders were shouted and men manned machines as they braced for what would come next.

“Stay here,” Paddy ordered, then ran to help.

Anxiously Ailish waited the long hours it took to slow the ship, cut the cable and transfer it to the bow, before reeling it back in. She heard the men say it would be a difficult time as there was more than two thousand fathoms of water under the ship’s keel and four tons of cable trying to break free.

She went to the testing caboose and eased inside. She’d visited the darkened hideout several times and knew the operators if not by sight, then by voice. “It’s me, O’Connor,” she announced into the blackness. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the low light conditions, but then she saw the dim shapes of the two silent operators, sitting like statues in front of their machines. “Any chance the signal will start again like it did before?” she asked hopefully.

“There’s not been the tiniest spark,” one of them said gloomily.

“Joe’s right, lad. It’s dead for sure this time.” The other operator agreed, not hiding the trepidation in his voice. “Not so much as a blink.”

“Don’t give up yet,” Ailish offered hopefully. “I heard Professor Thomson can work miraculous cures. You’ll be flashing your ghost messages back to Ireland before you know it.”

“You’re a good lad, O’Connor,” Joe the operator said. “That’s the right attitude.”

The atmosphere brightened a little and Ailish went to the galley to fetch hot coffee and sandwiches for the telegraph operators who sat so patiently in the darkness while the fate of the mission lay twelve thousand feet below.

As she walked back to the testing caboose, she passed a group of sailors and overheard one mention he’d heard the tap-tap-tapping of a hammer belowdecks.

“I’m telling you, it’s the riveter! That devil’s at it again, all right. Makin’ an infernal racket down there, he is.” He made the sign to ward off evil.

Ailish thought this was uncalled for. Pounding rivets couldn’t help being a noisy job! And calling Charlie a
devil was mean spirited. He seemed a decent enough chap, letting Davy visit almost anytime she was in the hold.

Ailish delivered the food and stayed to talk with the two men who manned the darkened room. They chatted and swapped stories, laughing as Ailish drew on the wealth of bad jokes she’d heard her father tell. This made her feel better as every time she thought of the weight on these men’s shoulders, she was amazed they could remain in such good spirits. Their judgment on the cable’s signal had the power to bring either cheers of triumph or the cries of defeat to the entire world.

– - • – –

It was Monday before one of the crew, carefully
scraping the thick grey sludge off the dead wire, discovered what had caused the fault.

“Here, I’ve got it! Get the captain!” he called as men hurriedly moved to where the sailor was inspecting the damaged cable.

Rufus Dalton stood looking very pleased with himself and Ailish nudged Paddy in the ribs. “He looks like a man with a fat pay packet in his pocket. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Moments later Captain Anderson, Mr. Canning, Professor Thomson and Cyrus Field assembled around the sailor who had raised the alarm.

“Full house,” Ailish murmured. “Darn near every mucky-muck we have on board.”

They conferred for some time; then the captain motioned Rufus Dalton over and spoke to him. The group continued talking as Dalton pointed to the cable releasing mechanism that had come so close to disaster and they all nodded their heads solemnly, concurring with whatever it was Dalton was saying.

Around her, Ailish could here the dreaded word being murmured –
sabotage.

A fresh knot tightened in her stomach. She was sure Dalton was telling them Paddy had been trying to wreck the machine. She doubted her word would hold much sway now.

Captain Anderson turned his attention to Ailish and she had the strong urge to run. “O’Connor, was Mr. Whelan with you Saturday morning, before the fault occurred?”

“Yes, sir,” she stammered, hating the limelight.

“And where did he say he was supposed to be working?”

“In the cable tank sir, but because of his injury, he’d asked Mr. Dalton if he could work on deck instead.”

“So he was not in the tank at any time before the fault occurred.” The captain looked at Dalton. “This means he couldn’t have sabotaged the cable.”

“He could have done it. It would only take a moment.” Dalton said. “Maybe he slipped away when no one was watching.”

The crowd murmured agreement, eager for a target.

Captain Anderson addressed Ailish again. “And at no time did Mr. Whelan go belowdecks?”

Ailish was about to say Paddy was with her topside all the time, but then she thought of him leaving to see Dalton. She felt as though she were betraying her countryman
when she answered. “Only for a few minutes,
Captain. He said he had to go to the …” her words trailed off.

“Did he go to the cable tank?” the captain pressed.

“Yes, sir,” Ailish said in a small voice, then went on quickly, “Mr. Dalton wanted to see him.”

“I gave no such order!” Dalton lied, then pointed at Paddy. “He pretended illness to get out of working in the tank so he would have an alibi, then he slunk back like the dog he is and wrecked the cable! And what’s more, Whelan was in the tank the day of the first fault! The Fenian traitor should pay!”

Ailish’s throat went dry. Dalton wanted Paddy to pay, all right, but not in the way everyone else would think. It was a little disconcerting that Paddy was in the hold or unaccounted for when all the faults had occurred. If she didn’t know better, she too would have suspected the kind Irishman. Now there were shouts from the crew to hang the traitor and throw him overboard.

Cyrus Field stepped forward. “There’s no proof Mr. Whelan is the saboteur. Being Irish does not make him a Fenian.”

“It makes him the most likely candidate!” someone from the crowd shouted. “The rest of us are loyal to Queen Victoria and the Empire and we want the cable to succeed!”

The American calmly continued. “Our traitor could be an Englishman who sympathizes with the Irish cause and is using Paddy Whelan as a convenient scapegoat.”

“Everyone here knows you can’t trust an Irishman!” Dalton shouted. “We won’t let the cable be stopped by one man even if we have to deal with matters ourselves!”

Captain Anderson held up his hands and called for silence. “Gentleman, I can confirm that the cable shorted because of a two-inch spike driven through its heart, exactly as was done previously. We have concluded that this is indeed sabotage and those most likely responsible would be the Irish group known as the Fenians. However, I shall not arrest a man because of hysteria and without any evidence to convict him of the crime.” The grumbling grew louder as the captain continued. “Go back to your posts and be diligent. If you see anyone acting suspiciously, report it immediately to Mr. Dalton or myself.”

The crowd dispersed with mutterings and thinly veiled threats as to what would happen when they caught the traitor.

Dalton, trailed by several of his burly gang, sidled up to Paddy. “The crew seem a might upset,” he said with a smirk. “What do you think would happen if anyone saw that picture now, Whelan? Without my protection, you could have a terrible,
and deadly,
accident.” He shouldered past Paddy and left with his men.

“This is not looking good, O’Connor.” Paddy said, watching Dalton leave. “I think you should stay away from me for a while, in case my dear friend Rufus arranges that accident he was talking about. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll not let that mad dog chase me away. I’m not afraid of Rufus Dalton.” Ailish’s words sounded braver than she felt.

“Then you’re a fool, O’Connor. Dalton is a dangerous man and a lad like you is no match for him.”

Ailish thought of how she’d outwitted him so far and it gave her confidence. “We can handle him.”

“There is no
we,
O’Connor! This is not a game for a wet-behind-the-ears boy. Stay away from me! I’ve all I can deal with looking after myself. I don’t want to babysit you!”

Ailish was about to protest, but Paddy stalked away before she could say another word.

12

A Call to Battle!

.-- …. --- …. .- … … . .- --. .-. . . -. . -.-- . …

“They found the fault, Davy.” Ailish sagged against
a wooden packing case. “Paddy’s been accused of being a Fenian and driving spikes through the cable. You should have seen the crew. They turned into an ugly, bloodthirsty mob.”

“But you said he wasn’t the one. Are you still so sure?” Davy asked, a mocking light in his sea-green eyes. He was sitting cross-legged on top of his usual crate and, in the hazy light with dust motes dancing in the air, he appeared an apparition from a mystical world.

She thought of how things looked – very bad; then she thought of the feeling she got from Paddy – very good.

“He’s innocent. This whole sabotage thing makes no sense.” She ran her fingers through her chopped hair. Her da’s smiling face flashed into her mind. She remembered once when she and her mother had done their hair in exactly the same style, twining flowers into the complicated braids; then, laughing, they’d shown him. He’d said he was a blessed man with two of the most beautiful colleens in Ireland to call his own. Blinking rapidly to clear the image from her mind, she returned her attention to Davy.

“At first, I thought Dalton was bluffing to make Paddy give him the money, threatening to show the captain the incriminating picture, but then the faults began. After what happened on deck, that picture would put the nails in Paddy’s coffin for sure. No one would believe he was only at the meeting to have a listen.” She shook her head. “The timing of the faults is so blasted convenient. When I first came on board, I overheard Dalton threatening Paddy and within hours the first fault happened, and then during the storm, I made the mistake of exposing Dalton as careless in front of his gang and Paddy defended me. Again, Dalton threatened him, and bang! We have another spike through the cable. It’s hard to believe it was coincidence. I wouldn’t put it past Dalton to have arranged the faults to put pressure on Paddy. After all, eighty pounds is a whopping lot of money.”

Agitated, she paced up and down. “What scares me is how Dalton is encouraging the men to take the law into their own hands and arrange an accident for the Fenian, who everyone now thinks is Paddy. Dalton saw to that.” She halted her march. “And if the crew doesn’t toss him overboard, Dalton will give the picture to the captain who will haul Paddy away for treason. Either way that thief will scoop the money! A dead man can’t complain someone stole his fortune.”

The more she thought about it, the worse it looked. “I’ve got a bad feeling we’ll soon be reading about ‘the wealthy Rufus Dalton’ in the
Irish Times.”

“The very wealthy Rufus Dalton – he’d have your statue too. This is a dusty business,” Davy agreed.

“Dusty? It’s downright dirty!” Ailish cried, leaning on the box again. Sometimes she thought Davy enjoyed all this intrigue a little too much. She sighed. “The famous missing two-pound horse... Since our search of Dalton’s room didn’t turn up turnips, do you think he could have put it in the ship’s safe?”

“Nay.” A crease furrowed Davy’s brow. “If he had, the loose-lipped grog hounds who work for the purser would blab it about for sure.”

“Dalton is the only one who knows where that horse is.” Ailish idly picked at a splinter on the crate as she thought. “It’s him who’ll have to lead me to the stash. The
Great Eastern
is too mammoth to search deck by deck, room by room and time is growing short. Paddy told me the cable-laying will go much faster as soon as we get closer to Newfoundland. Once we reach port, Dalton will abscond with Paddy’s money, sell my da’s horse, and then disappear for good.”

One solution popped into her head. “We could follow him around the clock. I could take the first watch and you could trail him while I’m sleeping.”

BOOK: Ghost Messages
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