Black Hearts in Battersea Read online

  ‘Captain Dark allus comes to us when he’s got a ship in,’ Dido put in knowledgeably. ‘There’s three of ’em – Dark Dew, Dark Dimity, and Dark Diamond. He runs mixed cargoes to Holland, and brings back arms from Hanover – for the Cause, you know. But, Croopus, we had such a time finding you! We sneaked on board in the dark and hid in the forecastle – Justin nipped into a chest and I squeezed behind the grog-barrel – and then when we was out to sea we thought we’d look for you but there was such a storm! All we did was fall over! Justin nearly lobbed his groats – didn’t you, Nibs? – and I didn’t like it above half.’

  ‘Oh, that was a storm, was it?’ said Simon, remembering the hours of rolling misery. ‘I thought I was feverish. How long did it last?’

  ‘Matter o’ two days. And then it took us for ever to find you, on account you was stowed away down here in the hold.’

  ‘I’d have been in a bad way, but for you,’ Simon said gratefully. ‘But what’s to be done now? Does nobody know you’re on board?’

  ‘Not a soul. Ain’t it famous? We’ve been having such a game of hide-and-seek! When Captain Dark comes out o’ his cabin, Justin nips in and nobbles his bottle of mountain dew (that’s what we been giving you). Then the cook comes out o’ the galley – I nips in and grabs a black pudding and a hunk of tack. Fast as the sailors coils up the ropes, we uncoils ’em again. We’ve been undoing things and unwinding things till they think the ship’s betwaddled.’ Dido was laughing so much that here she was obliged to stop and stick the candle in a crevice between two planks because she was spilling hot wax over Simon’s legs.

  ‘Are you better, Simon?’ she asked presently. ‘If you are, I’ve got a bang-up plan.’

  ‘What’s that, brat?’

  ‘We’ll all play hide-and-seek with the sailors. We’ll turn everything in the ship upsy-down, till they’re so set-about and dumbflustered they don’t know which way they’re going, and then we’ll watch our chance and lock ’em in the roundhouse, and sail the ship back to Deptford ourselves.’

  While Simon admitted that this was a pleasing plan, he saw snags.

  ‘Can you sail a ship, Dido?’

  ‘I knows the ropes,’ she said confidently. ‘Habbut you?’

  ‘Never been in one in my life before,’ Simon had to admit, which evidently somewhat dashed Dido’s high opinion of him. Justin’s acquaintance with ships had been limited to trips up the Thames in his uncle’s barge, and it was plain he was not a keen sailor; throughout the conversation he had remained pale and silent, swallowing frequently.

  ‘I don’t really believe we can sail the ship ourselves,’ Simon said.

  ‘Well then –’ Dido refused to be cast down – ‘we’ll smidge some barkers – I knows where they keeps the guns and balls – and hold ’em up, make them sail us back.’

  ‘That’s a likelier plan. How many are there in the crew?’

  ‘Matter o’ fourteen or fifteen, and most of ’em tipple-topped or right down half-seas-over all the time. Captain Dark’s the wust of ’em – you never see him but he’s got a bottle in his hand and one in his pocket.’

  ‘That’s what we’ll do, then,’ said Simon. ‘Where do they keep the guns?’

  ‘Up on deck, in the roundhouse. We could snibble up now, it’s night-time and there’a only a couple of coves on peep-go.’

  Unfortunately, Simon discovered when he tried to move that he was still a great deal too weak to stand. His legs gave way and he fell back groaning against the meal-sacks.

  ‘It’s no good, brat,’ he gasped. ‘I’ll have to wait till I get my strength back. Lying tied up all this time without food has left me as limp as a herring.’

  Dido knit her brows. ‘I’ll lay you’d do better in the air,’ she said. ‘This here hold’s got a breath in it like a mouldy coffin. Let’s put him on a sack and haul him out, Justin.’

  Justin looked doubtful, but when she ordered him not to squat there gaping like a jobberknoll but to find an empty sack he nodded palely and obeyed. They laid the sack by Simon and he dragged himself on to it.

  The whole project seemed utterly impossible but somehow, thanks to Dido’s indomitable spirit, it succeeded. Simon was drawn along on the sack to the foot of the ladder that led up from the hold; then, with Dido pulling from above and Justin pushing from below, he contrived to hoist himself up through the hatchway.

  ‘All rug now?’ said Dido after a period of rest. ‘Come on, we’d best bustle or it’ll be morning before we’re up top.’

  Once more they set to hauling Simon along a dark gallery. While they were resting in the shadows at the foot of the next ladder, a man came down it, but he never saw them; he reeled as he walked and a strong flavour of spirits wafted from him.

  ‘He’s bosky,’ Dido said calmly. ‘Drunk as a wheel-barrow. They’re all like that – slacking the cables after the storm.’

  With a fearful effort, Simon was hoisted up the last ladder. Dido’s shrimp-like frame seemed to possess amazing strength, both in muscle and willpower: she hauled like a horsebreaker and exhorted her two companions in a wild flow of whispered gutter-language that had a most stimulating effect. Even so, they were all collapsing from exhaustion by the time they reached the deck, and had to lie down helplessly for many minutes. Luckily, as Dido had said, the crew had all been drinking freely after the storm; most of them were asleep and the two on watch were in no state to notice anything unusual.

  ‘Brush on, cullies,’ whispered Dido presently. ‘There’s a fire in the galley; we might as well have a warm-up, and we’re out o’ view there.’

  The galley was a warm and cluttered place; it seemed to serve the purpose of a handy storehouse, for it contained chests and bales and piles of clothes. A fire glowed red in an iron stove, and a snoring man lay sprawled on the floor in front of it.

  Simon’s last recollection was of being thrust into a sort of cocoon composed of rope-yarn and old rags behind some chests. Then Dido dropped a duffel-cloak over him and he slept.

  He was roused by a violent blow on the head and opened his eyes with a gasp, thinking they were discovered. He saw the scared faces of Dido and Justin, who were wedged with him behind the chests; then he realized that they were not under attack; a heavy iron hook, hanging from a coil of rope on the wall had swung out and struck him. The ship was plunging violently. The hook flew out again, and Simon reached up dizzily and pulled it down.

  ‘We must be running into another storm,’ he whispered.

  The ship echoed and re-echoed with noises – the confused shouts of half-tipsy men, the hum, sometimes rising to a wail, of wind in the rigging, and the roar and crash of the sea itself. They could feel the Dark Dew shudder, shrink, and then plunge on as each wave struck her. Feet pattered across the deck and someone shouted an order to reef all sails; the sleeper in front of the galley fire groaned, pulled himself together, and staggered out.

  ‘I might as well prig some peck while the going’s good,’ Dido said, and crawled out from their hiding-place. She came back in a moment with two large handfuls of raisins. ‘There you are, cullies. Keep swallowing – it’s much the best in this sort o’ toss-up.’

  ‘I can’t stand it,’ moaned Justin. Dido eyed him scornfully. A dim grey morning light was filtering in through the open door and Simon could see that Dido was as white as a sheet, but she seemed to be alert and cocky, thoroughly enjoying the adventure.

  ‘You are a loblolly,’ she told Justin. ‘I think it’s prime – I’ve never had such a bang-up lark, except for the fair. I’d sooner be here than at home any day.’

  ‘If only the ship wouldn’t lurch about so!’ whimpered Justin, as a weight of water struck the roof above them with a thunderous crash. ‘There’s water coming in now.’

  ‘Pooh,’ said Dido, pale but game. ‘That’s only a bit of sea hitting the deck.’

  ‘But I’ve got a pain in my bread-basket.’

  ‘So’ve I, but I don’t make such a song-and-dance about it.’

 
‘Hush – listen,’ said Simon, who had been straining his ears. He caught a long-drawn-out call, repeated twice, and was trying to make it out, as it echoed again over the sound of the wind.

  ‘… Ay-ay-ay-ay … ire … ire … Fire!’

  ‘Fire in the hold! Fire!’

  ‘Fire?’ breathed Dido, staring at Simon with dilated eyes. Now she did seem a little scared. ‘Fire in the hold? But that’s where you were, Simon! Croopus, it’s lucky we got you away from there!’

  ‘That candle, Dido – that candle you stuck between two planks. Did you ever go back and fetch it – or put it out?’

  ‘I – I don’t reckon as how I did,’ she whispered. ‘D’you think that’s what started the fire?’

  ‘It might be.’

  ‘Oh, they’ll easily put it out,’ Justin said hopefully. ‘Won’t they? Won’t they?’

  The other two did not answer. They were listening. A sudden puff of smoke blew through the galley door. The clamour on deck increased, and above the sound of wind and waves Simon now thought he could detect a different noise – could it be the crackle of fire?

  ‘What’ll happen?’ whispered Dido, very subdued.

  ‘Oh, there must be some boats – if they can’t put the fire out –’ His words were interrupted by a sudden extraordinary noise, so loud that it seemed to reduce all the sounds that had preceded it to mere taps and whispers. It was a rending, grinding roar that lasted for as long as Simon could draw five breaths – then the ship seemed to stop dead in her course and there was an awesome silence.

  ‘What is it? What’s that noise?’ cried Dido. None of them could bear to stay in hiding any longer, they all leapt from their nook and ran to the galley door. Simon almost fell from weakness, but grabbed the doorpost and hung on, looking out. Dido clutched hold of his hand.

  The scene before them made even Simon gasp. The Dark Dew, burning like a torch, had literally broken in half, and the forward part of the ship was already drifting away, carried by the fierce wind and waves. They saw two or three men on it trying to launch a boat; then the whole hulk fell over sideways, swamping boat, crew, and all; in a few minutes it had disappeared from view.

  The after half of the ship, containing the galley, remained motionless but continued to burn; great detached fragments of smoke and flame flew past on the wind.

  ‘Wh-what’s h-happ-pened? Why aren’t we moving?’ said Dido with chattering teeth. ‘D-do you think we’ve run ag-g-ground?’

  ‘On a rock, maybe—’ Simon stepped out on to the dangerously canted deck and grabbed at a shroud to steady himself. ‘Look, there are rocks over there, you can see the waves breaking on them.’

  ‘Are we near land?’ Dido asked hopefully. ‘Can we get ashore?’

  ‘Heavens knows. Look, they’re trying to get another boat free.’

  A knot of men at the stern were struggling to drag loose a dinghy that had become wedged beneath a fallen spar. They were in a panic; each cursing his mates and getting in the way of the rest. A wild-eyed man with a black beard rushed past the galley and began knocking the men aside with a wooden spike so as to come at the boat himself, shouting orders meanwhile.

  ‘That’s Captain Dark,’ Dido said. ‘I’d best go and speak to him, I reckon; we don’t want to get left here in the nitch, if they’re shoving off.’

  The boat was free now, and she darted across the deck and grabbed Captain Dark’s arm. He gave a tremendous start at sight of her, and the rest of the men gaped, thunderstruck at this apparition.

  ‘How do, Captain Dark. Ain’t this a turn-up, then?’ said Dido, pale but perky.

  ‘Where in the name of Judas did you come from, you devil’s brat?’

  ‘I ain’t a devil’s brat! You know me – I’m Dido Twite. I stowed on your ship, with Justin there, acos you was taking my cully away.’

  Captain Dark turned and saw Justin and Simon. He gave them an ugly glance, and the men by the boat began to mutter, ‘No wonder we come to this, with a brood of Jonahs aboard. Everybody knows childer bring ill-luck at sea.’

  Suddenly a great piece of the deck fell in, and flames burst out of the galley window.

  ‘Never mind talking now, skipper! For God’s sake let’s get the boat launched,’ someone shouted urgently. Captain Dark shook off Dido and rapped out an order; the boat shot off the deck into the sea. Instantly the whole group of men tumbled off the Dark Dew into her, higgledy-piggledy, fighting each other like furies. Captain Dark was among them, wielding an oar vigorously. It was plain there was not going to be room in the boat for everybody. Several men were knocked into the sea but did their best to clamber in again, dragging out their mates as they did so.

  ‘Wait, wait!’ Dido called frantically. ‘Wait for us! You’ve left us behind!’

  ‘You weren’t asked on board, were you?’ someone shouted. ‘Save yourselves – we don’t want you.’

  The boat drifted away. Its crew were too busy struggling for places to worry about pulling at the oars or steering. Simon saw a huge green hill of sea rise beneath its keel and tip the boat sideways like a walnut shell. He could not bear to look any longer and turned his eyes away.

  ‘Save us!’ whispered Dido in horror, staring past him. ‘They’ve gone! Simon! They’ve gone! What’ll we do?’

  ‘We’ll have to manage for ourselves, that’s all,’ Simon said, pulling himself together, trying to sound more hopeful than he felt.

  They clambered down to the stern, which the fire had not yet reached, and then realized what had happened to the ship. Her rudder had caught and jammed between two rocks, so that she was held fast and battered until her forward part had broken away.

  ‘She won’t last here long,’ Simon said. ‘We’d best shift off as soon as we can. I believe that might be an island over there.’

  Day had now fully broken and a wild yellow light shone fitfully between squalls of rain. They glimpsed a long, craggy ridge of land about half a mile ahead; then black cloud came down and blotted out the view.

  ‘H-how c-can we g-get there?’ asked Justin.

  Simon cast his eyes round what remained of the deck. There was a large water-cask lashed to the mast; he dragged it free.

  ‘Here you are,’ he said to Justin. ‘This’ll do for you, neat as ninepence. Pass this bit of rope round your middle and through the bung-hole – so – now the cask can’t float away from you. Here’s an oar; hang on to the end of it and we’ll let you down; you can go first as you’re a Duke’s nevvy.’

  He rolled the barrel into the sea and Justin, whimpering a little, was let down into it and pushed off with the oar, which Simon then passed to him.

  ‘Fend yourself off from the rocks!’ he shouted as the cask bobbed away.

  ‘What about us?’ asked Dido, doggedly clenching her teeth. ‘I can’t swim.’

  Simon looked round once more. There were no other barrels, and the flames were coming uncomfortably close.

  ‘It’ll have to be this for you and me,’ he said, and laid hold of the broken spar which had hindered the men from launching the boat. Ropes were still made fast to it, and he passed a couple of these round Dido and tied her on as securely as he could.

  ‘I d-don’t like this above half,’ she said, shivering.

  ‘Never mind. I’m going to push you in and then jump after you. Hold tight to the pole! Now jump!’

  ‘Oh, my lovely new dress! It’ll get ru –’

  A wave closed over Dido, but she reappeared next minute, gamely clinging to the spar. Simon dived in and managed to grab the other end of it.

  ‘That’s the ticket! Now all we have to do is swim to shore.’

  ‘Can you see Justin?’

  ‘Yes, he’s floating on ahead of us. We’ll be all right – you’ll see,’ Simon said as reassuringly as he could. He gave Dido an encouraging smile and she smiled wanly back. She looked a piteous sight with her wet hair hanging in rats’ tails over her face.

  Simon swam with his legs, pushing the cumbersome spar ahead of
him with his arms. It was an exhausting struggle. His heart grew so heavy in his chest, and beat so hard, that he began to feel as if it would work loose and sink from him like a stone.

  ‘Are you all right, brat?’ he gasped.

  She made some indistinguishable reply. Presently he heard her say, ‘Are we nearly there?’

  ‘Just keep going. Kick with your legs.’

  They laboured on. Dido, looking back, cried out that the Dark Dew had gone. She had crumbled together like a burning ember and slipped under the waves.

  ‘Lucky for us we weren’t on board then,’ panted Simon. ‘And I should have been, Dido, if you hadn’t come and set me loose. l owe you my life.’

  ‘But s’posing it was us that set fire to the ship?’ Dido gulped miserably.

  ‘Oh – as to that – very likely it wasn’t. With all those drunk men on board, it’s a wonder the ship lasted as long as she did.’

  A wave slopped against Simon’s chin and he closed his mouth. He was beginning to feel very strange: his legs were numb from the waist down and hung heavily in the water.

  ‘I – I’ll have to stop for a minute, Dido,’ he said hoarsely. One of his hands slipped off the spar and he only just succeeded in grabbing it again.

  ‘There’s a rock, let’s make for it,’ she said. ‘We can rest for a bit.’

  With a last effort Simon swam towards the rock. They managed to drag themselves up its slope, getting badly scraped by limpets, and lay side by side on the narrow tip, shivering and exhausted.

  ‘Can you see Justin – or the land?’ Dido asked after a while. She huddled closer to Simon. He opened his eyes with an effort, and moved his head, but could see nothing save cloud and driving rain. His eyelids flickered and closed again; he sank into a sort of dream, only half aware of Dido, who occasionally moved or coughed beside him.

  Once or twice he realized that she was pushing food into his mouth – damp and salty raisins or crumbs of cheese.

  ‘Keep some for yourself, brat,’ he muttered weakly.