John Drake - Skull and Bones

"Not even a pardon," said McLonarch, "and the chance to be an honest man?"

Silver stopped dead. He looked at McLonarch, who sat calmly in his chair in the well-furnished stern cabin that even had carpets, pictures in frames, and candlesticks. It had books too, and musical instruments: all fixed to the bulkheads in shelves with wire-mesh doors so the ship's motion shouldn't unseat them, for Captain Fitch lived in style. So it was a fine, heavy chair with carved arms that McLonarch had chosen, and which he occupied like a throne, while gazing down his nose at John Silver.

"Pah!" said Silver.

But McLonarch, the consummate politician, having pumped Allardyce beforehand for knowledge of Silver, smiled at him.

"Captain," he said, "I hear that you were a decent man before you were forced into piracy."

"Maybe," said Silver, frowning.

"And even now," continued McLonarch, "you are renowned as a man of honour, and a beloved leader whom men trust. And one who permits no cruelty to prisoners…" He paused and had the satisfaction of seeing Silver blush. Nodding in emphasis, he continued: "Thus you are still – even now – a decent man."

"Huh!" said Silver, but such was the power of McLonarch's personality, and the aura of aristocracy that hung about him, that Silver had the feeling that he'd just heard the definitive, official pronouncement upon himself, as if a judge in court had spoken.

"Captain Silver," said McLonarch, "what I offer you is my master's royal pardon, together with such pension as shall enable you to become again the honest mariner that you once were, washed clean of all past offences, of whatsoever kind or description."

There was silence. The words were magical, mystical. They were a dream. Silver thought of Selena. He thought of the normal life she wanted, and he was drawn into McLonarch's web, and dared to believe. But then he frowned.

"What about my lads?" he said. "Them what chose me, under articles."

McLonarch beamed.

"God bless you, John Silver!" he said. "Had I entertained the least doubt, it would now be gone. Only such a man as I believed you to be would think first of the men he leads, and it is my pleasure to assure you that the same free pardon shall extend to them."

"See, Cap'n?" said Allardyce. "Didn't I tell you?"

"There could even be more…" said McLonarch.

"Oh?" said Silver.

"Are you a Catholic?"

Silver shrugged. "I was raised that way, my father being a Portugee."

McLonarch nodded.

"Then know that I am empowered by the Holy Father to reward those who assist my sacred mission." He paused as one does who makes a mighty offer. "I am empowered to grant the rank and dignity of the Order of the Golden Spur!"

"A papal knighthood?" said Silver, and twisted under deep emotions. But he looked McLonarch in the eye. "See here," he said, "Bonnie Prince Charlie's shut up in Italy. He had his chance at Culloden, and got beat!" He shook his head. "Give up, milord. Your cause is lost!"

"Lost?" said McLonarch. "Give up? Did Charles II give up when exiled to Holland with the world saying Cromwell had won? No! He kept faith for eleven years in exile… yet returned in triumph, with the cathedral bells pealing, the great guns sounding, and the people rejoicing in the streets!"

It was true. Silver was impressed. But he was cautious too, because maybe this wasn't the only bargain in the market?

"Pretty words, milord," he said. "But just for the moment I'm sending you back among the others. I'll spare you the irons, but I'm done talking."

"Well enough, Captain," said McLonarch, satisfied for the moment.

The prisoner went off with Allardyce bowing and scraping behind him, leaving Silver alone with his thoughts, but it wasn't long before Allardyce came clumping back with men behind him. They burst in without knocking. They were looking for trouble.

"What's this?" said Silver. Allardyce looked behind him for support.

"Go on!" they growled.

"Cap'n!" said Allardyce. "We must take Himself safe aboard Walrus!"

"Oh? And is it yourself giving orders now, Mr Allardyce?"

"Tell him!" said the rest.

"We must save him," cried Allardyce, "for he's the McLonarch!"

"Oh, stow it!" said Silver. "D'you think I'm not taking him anyway?"

"Oh…" they said.

"Aye!" said Silver. "Now get about your blasted duties!"

"Oh," they said, and, "Aye-aye, Capn'." And with that they trooped out, looking sheepish.

Alone once more, Silver sighed. What he hadn't told them was that McLonarch was too big a prize to let go. Maybe King George would make an offer for him? Even if he did, Silver knew that he was pressed into a corner and he'd need to be very careful of the Jacobites among his own crew from hereon. Wearily he went up on deck, and found Israel Hands by the mizzenmast, gleefully making notes of the prize's cargo.

"Where's that swab that had hold of McLonarch?" said Silver.

"Norton?" said Hands. "He's forrard, with the rest."

"Bring him here!"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n!"

Norton came at the double, with two men behind him bearing cutlasses. Silver watched his approach, noting the way he darted nimbly across the crowded deck, leaping up the ladder from the waist to the quarterdeck, as if it were second nature to him. And when he was brought up before Silver, who stood looming over him, parrot on shoulder, Norton never flinched. He was a hard case, all right.

"You sent for me, Cap'n," he said, and touched his hat like a seaman.

Cheeky bugger, thought Silver, looking him over. He wore a smart suit of clothes in biscuit-coloured calico and a straw tricorne. By the sound of his voice, he was almost a gentleman, but not quite.

"Just what are you, mister?" said Silver, and saw him blink and think before making a very bold admission.

"I'm a Bow Street man," he said, "a runner. Sent out to arrest Lord McLonarch on a royal warrant."

Silver whistled. "A thief taker? A gallows-feeder?"

"Some call me that."

"And there's gentlemen o' fortune as would hang you for it!"

Norton blinked again, this time in fright.

"Oh, stow it," said Silver, waving away the threat. "Just look at him there!" He pointed down the length of the ship to where McLonarch stood head and shoulders above all the prisoners. "Tell me what that man is, and why you was sent to get him."

"He's the '45 all over again."

"How's that?"

"What d'you know about Jacobites?"

"Plenty!" said Silver.

"And there's plenty of 'em left. Even in the colonies."

"Is there?"

"Yes. They raised the dollars."

"Why'd he want the money? For himself?"

"No! He already had the men, but not the funds."

"And now he's got the money he needs…?"

"He's well on the way to getting it. And have you spoken to him? Listened to him?"

"Aye! Never heard the like!"

Norton nodded. "And he knows all the old families, and the colonels of all the regiments."

"Are you saying he could do it? Raise rebellion?"

"We don't know. But we fear that he might."

"Who's we}"

"The Lord Chancellor, the cabinet, and me."

"Bugger me!" said Silver. "Precious high company you keep." Then a thought struck him: "Hold hard, my jolly boy…" He frowned. "If McLonarch is so bleedin' dangerous, why was just yourself sent out to nab him?"

"A naval expedition couldn't be sent for fear of someone warning McLonarch."

"Jacobites in the navy?"

"Perhaps. So I was sent quietly, with five good men."

"Only five?"

"Them… and papers for me to command local forces."

"So where are they? Your men?"

Norton sighed. "Dead or wounded, as are several dozen colonial militiamen."

"And what about the Jacobites? How many of them are dead?"

"I lost count."

Silver laughed. He liked Norton. But there was more. Silver put his head on one side and looked at the tough, self-assured man who stood so sure on a rolling deck.