HF - 03 - The Devil's Own (52 page)

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Authors: Christopher Nicole

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BOOK: HF - 03 - The Devil's Own
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The Defence Advocate slowly stood up. It seemed to take him a very long time, because he was a very tall man. Like so many tall men he was also untidy; his wig was askew. Which did not mean Kit realized, that he was a poor advocate; perhaps the reverse.

'Captain Hilton,' he said, slowly and thoughtfully. 'An honorary title? Or is there some great event in your past of which this court is unaware?'

 

Kit flushed. 'Mainly honorary, sir. I once commanded a trading sloop out of St John's.' 'In the employ of whom?' 'Several planters of Antigua.' 'Of whom the principal was Colonel Warner?' 'Yes.'

A murmur went round the court.

 

'But of course,' Harley said, 'you and Colonel Warner are old acquaintances. Indeed, your two families have been closely connected since the first Englishmen settled these islands. Is that not so?'

 

'It is,' Kit agreed.

 

'Your grandfather was one of Sir Thomas Warner's associates?' 'He was.'

'And your grandmother was one of Sir Thomas Warner's servants, I understand.'

Kit felt his cheeks burning. But he kept his voice even. 'She was.'

 

'And on one occasion she was flogged for absconding?' 'Yes,' Kit said.

 

'A sad case,' Mr Harley said, regretfully. 'One can understand ... but no matter. At a later date she was a close, an, ah, intimate friend of Mr Edward Warner, I believe.'

 

'I was not alive then,' Kit said.

'Nevertheless you will have heard this story.'

 

'I have been told many stories about my family, sir,' Kit said. 'I doubt they have any bearing on our reasons for being here today.'

'On the contrary, sir, they have every bearing on our presence here today. But I will touch on that matter in a moment. Now, sir, your grandfather left St Kitts and settled in Tortuga. And achieved high office.'

 

'He was first Governor of Tortuga.'

 

'Where you grew to manhood. Tell the court if Colonel Warner ever visited your home.' 'He did. On one occasion.' 'When was this?'

 

'Oh, a considerable time ago. Nearly twenty years.' 'And was he made welcome?'

 

'As I remember, sir.'

'There was no quarrel between your grandmother and Colonel Warner?' 'No, sir.'

'I would remind you that you are under oath, Captain Hilton. Is it not a fact that Colonel Warner left Tortuga in haste, with a jury rig still holding up the foremast of his ship, after a quarrel with your grandmother?'

'Colonel Warner did not quarrel with my grandmother, sir,' Kit said. 'The quarrel was with me. I ..." he glanced at the gallery. 'I was rude to Miss Warner. My future wife.'

Again the murmur. But Harley, naturally enough, did not choose to pu
rsue th
at line. 'Then tragedy struck. Tortuga was overrun by the Spaniards. May I ask what happened to your family?'

'My grandmother was murdered by the Dons,' Kit said. 'I took refuge on the mainland of Hispaniola.' 'You escaped the holocaust. By yourself?' 'No, sir. I had a companion.'

'Would you tell the court the name of this companion?'

Kit looked at the gallery. What a mine of information she had proved, to be sure. 'His name was Jean DuCasse.'

'DuCasse,' Harley said thoughtfully. 'Do you know, Captain Hilton, that name is vaguely familiar to me. Yet I cannot place it. Perhaps you would be good enough to tell me why it should be familiar?'

'Admiral DuCasse now commands a French fleet in these waters.'

'Indeed lie does. How silly of me to have forgotten. And Admiral DuCasse was in command of the French fleet when it invaded Antigua last year.'

'That is correct,' Kit said.

'Which is no doubt why Plantation Green Grove was spared the worst effects of the outrage. Because he is an old acquaintance of yours. Or do I do you both an injustice. Is acquaintance the word you would choose, Captain Hilton?'

'Monsieur DuCasse is my oldest friend,' Kit said. 'We survived together more than two years in the jungles of Hispaniola, and afterwards ..." he hesitated.

'You were
matelots.
But please continue, Captain Hilton.'

'Afterwards we marched together through the jungle of Central America, on Panama.'

'Under the command of the late Sir Henry Morgan. So another facet of your remarkable career comes to light. You were a buccaneer.'

'I have never denied that, sir.'

'Indeed you have not. And then, the buccaneer fleet having been disbanded, at least by Morgan, you took yourself to Antigua and a new career. But in the first instance you commanded a sloop owned by Colonel Warner.'

'And others.'

'Indeed. But the employment was granted by Colonel Warner. It would seem that he had decided to let bygones be bygones, in his desire to help the orphaned son of his old servant.'

'He needed a sea captain,' Kit said evenly. 'I was a sea captain.'

'You had been a buccaneer, yes. But you will agree that it was magnanimous of Colonel Warner.' 'He needed a seaman,' Kit said again.

Harley stared at him for some seconds, and then shrugged. 'However, the animosity which you bear him, which lies constantly just beneath the surface, would not remain for long dormant.'

'Your Lordship,' Mr Pratt said, getting up. 'I must object. My learned friend has not proved there was any animosity between this witness and the accused, nor has this witness suggested it.'

The Gov
ernor nodded. 'I must agree with
that point, Mr Harley.'

'As you wish, Your Lordship,' Harley said. 'You remained in Colonel Warner's employment for a month, Captain Hilton, and then you resigned your command. I will not enter into your reasons for wishing to leave Colonel Warner's employ, but is it not a fact that when you resigned your position there was a violent quarrel?'

'There was,' Kit said. 'But ...'

'In the course of which you were set upon by Colonel Warner's servants, beaten, and thrown off the plantation?'

'That is what happened,' Kit agreed.

 

'But of course you bore the Colonel no ill will for this.' 'I ..."

 

'And soon afterwards you married Mrs Marguerite Templeton, Colonel Warner's daughter.' Mr Harley held up his hand. 'I have no wish, it would be improper, for me to inquire into the methods used by a man in his courting, or to inquire into the wiles and fascinations a man may exercise over members of the female sex. Yet I would like your opinion on whether or not Colonel Warner approved of this marriage?'

'He did not approve of the marriage,' Kit said. 'But he became reconciled to it as time went by.'

'Ah, indeed. The power which time possesses, Captain Hilton, of enabling us poor mortals to become reconciled to our lot is in many ways the only thing which makes life tolerable. Would you not agree?'

 

'I would say that is a remarkably passive point of view.'

 

'You do not agree. I thought you might not. Would you deny that, if Colonel Warner became reconciled to your new position in the bosom of his family, you never became reconciled to the many injuries you conceived he had done to you, and to
your
family?'

'If you mean by that, sir,' Kit said, 'that I have never actually liked Colonel Warner, then I would have to say that you are right.'

 

'I thank you, sir,' Harley said.

 

Pratt sat back and looked at the ceiling. He seemed to have indigestion.

 

'I'm afraid,' Kit said, 'that I did not prove a very successful witness.'

 

Mr Pratt snapped his fingers, and the boy brought two more glasses of rum punch; the tavern was close by the court-house, and indeed was entirely filled with spectators from the trial; but the Advocate General had secured a corner table in some privacy.

'You were transparently honest, Captain, which is what I anticipated you would be, as you are a transparently honest man. There are pitfalls in such honesty, and there are great advantages. Nor do I think you came off worst in your encounter with Harley. I have known him for many years, as
you may imagine. He did not look particularly satisfied with the results he achieved. And in any event, I expected nothing less than an endeavour to discredit you. For how else may he possibly hope to gain the day for his client? You will note that he made no attempt to deny the truth of your allegations, only to impugn your motives for bringing them at all.'

'And supposing he has failed to discredit me in the minds of the jury?' Kit asked. 'What then? Will he place Philip on the stand?'

'I do not see
how he can possibly do anything else. The facts of the case are indisputable. No one, least of all Colonel Warner has attempted to deny that Indian Warner and seven other caciques were killed in the cabin of that ship.'

'And cannot Mr Harley see all this?'

'Indeed he can,' Pratt agreed. 'And in any event he knows me as well as I know him. I see nothing for him but an appeal to mercy. And do not underestimate the power of that. But at the very least Colonel Warner will stand condemned, fined, perhaps imprisoned, and the infamy of the deed, and the quality of British justice, will be seen to be untarnished, and your name will be cleared before the world, and will indeed be honoured by men everywhere.'

Kit smiled, somewhat wryly. 'I had not supposed it was my name needed clearing. Anyway, I have no wish to hound Colonel Warner to his grave. That he is condemned will be sufficient.'

'An honourable sentiment,' Pratt agreed, and got up. 'I must go back to court. Will you attend this afternoon?'

'How could I stay away?' Kit asked. 'I have but to finish my drink.'

'Well, then, soon I fancy we shall see the end of this nefarious business, and then, sir, we shall show you the quality of Barbadian hospitality. My wife is longing to meet you. Until this afternoon.'

He hurried across the room, and heads turned to watch him go, and then turned back to stare at Kit. He smiled at them, and sipped his drink. Let them take which side they chose. As Pratt had said, this afternoon would see an end to the matter.

But he frowned as a man left the far end of the room and came towards him. He did not recognize the man's face, nor was it a face he would have chosen to remember; the fellow was slight, and his thinning hair was not concealed by a wig. He wore horn-rimmed spectacles, from which he peered at the room with a slight air of alarm, and his clothes were threadbare.

'Captain Hilton?' he whispered.

'I am he,' Kit agreed.

'May I have a word, sir?'

'By all means. A pot of punch?'

'I would rather not, sir, if you'd not take offence. I find the wine of this country a shade too vehement for my brain.'

'Now why
should I take offence at that?’
Kit demanded. 'But you have the advantage of me, sir.'

'My name is Ligon, Captain. Richard Ligon.' He paused.

'The pleasure is mine, Mr Ligon. Have we met before?'

'No, sir. I have not had that privilege before this minute. But we have mutual friends.' Ligon rested his elbows on the table. 'I am on a voyage of discovery, sir. The most fabulous adventure ever undertaken by man. At least, by a man such as I when compared with a man such as you, to be sure.'

Kit sipped his drink; he wondered if Mr Ligon's discovery that rum was too strong for him had not been very recently made.

'I am, sir, a writer. A mere scribbler, I do assure you. No Dryden I, much less a Donne. Hobbes is as the sun, scorching down upon some rutted pit beneath, and even Defoe must rank as the moon, shedding a fitful light upon those darknesses he would illuminate. But in my own way, sir, I do what I can.'

'Indeed,' Kit observed. 'I must confess I have not heard of you.'

'Nor is that to be wondered at, sir, as I have never yet been published. I am in the course of preparation, sir, a work of great value. In my youth, sir, what were my imaginings constantly seeking? Why, tales of the Indies, of the Americas, of Raleigh and Gilbert, of Tom Warner, and if I dare say it, of Anthony Hilton, and more recently, of Henry Morgan and Jean L'Olonnais, and even of yourself.'

'You are a flatterer, sir.'

'I seek the truth, sir. I would record the fact and the fancy of this beautiful sea. But while it is a great privilege to meet one of my central characters in person, sir, it is not for that purpose that I have inflicted my company upon you. No, sir, I was in court yesterday, and this morning, and I heard your spirited words in the witness box, and I gathered, even at my distance, some of the anguish which pursues you now, and which must so much have pursued you in the black-sanded forest of Dominica.'

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