Doctor Who: The Highlanders (10 page)

Better a quick and honourable death at the end of King George’s rope than a slow living death of constant toil, lashings and yellow fever.’

The Highlanders were now deeply split and argued furiously among themselves.

Grey turned to Trask. ‘Who is that man?’ he said.

Trask mouthed grimly, ‘Willy MacKay, former master of this vessel.’

Grey nodded, understandingly. ‘Ah, I see,’ he said.

Trask’s hand felt for the butt of a long horse pistol sticking out of his pocket. ‘We should have disposed of him long ago.’ He moved forward through the hold, but Grey grabbed him by the arm.

‘No,’ said Grey, ‘not now. Later perhaps, Trask, later,’

he whispered. He raised his hand for silence. ‘Listen to me.

You have heard what Master MacKay offers you: death with honour – if that’s what you call it, lingering at the end of a halter. Followed by quartering, and the like courtesies reserved for His Majesty’s rebels. What I offer is life, and a chance to work for your liberty.’

Willy shook his head bitterly. ‘Liberty,’ he scorned; but the men were beginning to disregard him, and elbow him back into the crowd.

‘Make your choice,’ called Grey. ‘Those who wish to sign step over here.’ He indicated the left side of the hold.

‘And those who wish to hang or...’ An idea struck him, a clever, legalistic idea, playing on the ingrained loyalty of the Highland men. ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘turn King’s evidence...’ he bowed slightly to Willy MacKay ‘... over there.’

There was a moment’s silence as the Highlanders looked uncertainly at one another, then began to move to the left-hand side. By a brilliant stroke, Grey had made it seem that those who would not join the men contracted to the West Indies plantations had in mind betraying their fellows and turning King’s evidence against them.

Jamie moved forward and stood beside Willy, realising the implications of the situation. ‘The fools!’ he said.

‘Stop!’ cried Willy. ‘Stop men!’ But eventually, only Colin, Jamie, Willy and Ben were left on the right-hand side of the hold; the rest formed a long line and began making their signatures, crosses or thumbprints on the sheets of parchment.

Grey looked over and counted. ‘Only four for the gallows, I think,’ he said.

‘Ben!’ Jamie was shocked to see Ben go up to the signing table.

‘What about me?’ said Ben, ‘can I sign?’

Grey smiled and waved his hand down at the paper.

‘I can read, you know,’ said Ben. ‘Can I read it first?’

Ben pushed into the line of men and bent over the table.

The next instant he seized the three sheets of fine parchment and tore them into pieces.

Trask spun forward, swung the heavy handle of his cat-o’-nine tails, and knocked Ben unconscious onto the deck.

Willy and Jamie moved forward, but the sailors beside Trask levelled their pistols at their chests and said to stand back.

For once Grey showed his anger. ‘Clap him into irons,’

he said. ‘When I return with the new contracts, bind him and drop him from the yard-arm.’ He turned and climbed out of the hold as the sailors bent down, picked up the unconscious Ben, and loaded him on their shoulders.

12

Perkins, meanwhile, was sitting with a flagon of sherry in front of him, facing a nervous Polly and Kirsty, and obviously enjoying playing with them as a cat plays with a mouse. In the next partition the Doctor sat listening, but unable to act.

Polly started to get up. ‘Mr Grey doesn’t seem to be coming, does he?’ she said. ‘I think we’d better be off.’

Perkins leaned across and restrained her from going.

‘My dear young lady,’ he said, ‘surely you won’t deprive an old fellow of your charming company? I assure you he won’t be long.’

‘Nevertheless,’ said Polly, ‘I think that –’

‘I insist.’ Perkins’ tone dropped its usually oily smoothness and became firm.

‘No,’ said Polly, pushing his hand away.

‘Then,’ said Perkins, ‘I shall rouse the watch. They may be interested in two such genteel orange wenches.’

Polly stared helplessly at him for a moment and then sat down again.

‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘Now to pass the time. What say you to a round of whist?’

Polly looked at him. ‘Whist?’ she said. ‘I can’t play whist.’

Perkins felt in his pocket and brought out a pack of playing cards and placed them on the table. ‘It’s quite easy,’ he said, ‘you can soon learn.’ He started to deal the cards just as an old woman came around the side of the partition and slid in next to him, speaking in a quavery voice.

‘You need four for whist.’

Perkins hardly bothered to look at the bundle of clothes that had thrust itself in next to him. ‘Kindly remove yourself, madam.’

Polly looked closely across the table at the face beneath the cap and, recognising it, clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. The Doctor, in no hurry, spread his skirts and picked up and finished off Perkins’

glass of sherry.

‘Nothing finer than a round of whist,’ squeaked the Doctor. ‘Who is to deal?’

Perkins, his fat jowls quivering indignantly, stood up to his full five foot four. ‘Madam, I told you –’ he raised his hand to call for the innkeeper, then became aware of Grey’s pistol levelled at his heart.

‘I’m sure you’d oblige an auld woman,’ the Doctor said in his piping Scots’ tone.

Perkins hand fell, his mouth gaped open. He looked closely at the Doctor’s face. ‘The German Doctor!’ he exclaimed.

The Doctor nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Uh, would you deal, Kirsty, and perhaps,’ he added ‘you would like to count the trumps, Perkins?’

Perkins slowly subsided, feeling the pressure of the Doctor’s pistol against his ribs. Kirsty expertly cut the cards and started dealing. Across the room, the door flung open and Grey entered in a furious temper. The Doctor saw him, lowered his head so that his face was obscured by his bonnet and, hiding the gun with his shawl, managed to keep the muzzle pointed at Perkins’ waistcoat. ‘Don’t say a word,’ he whispered.

Grey looked around the room, then spotted Perkins at the table and strode over. ‘Perkins!’ he said, ‘what the devil are you doing, man?’

Perkins opened his mouth to speak and felt the nudge of the pistol barrel. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘I’m just playing a round of cards, Mr Grey.’

Grey gave the others a quick glance. ‘Indeed,’ he said,

‘well, you can just come up to my room with me, we need more contracts.’ He turned away.

‘Mr Grey...’ Polly began.

The Doctor leaned across and touched Polly on the arm, shaking his head.

‘Oh, nothing...’ said Polly.

Grey looked keenly back, struck by the, as he would have put it, aristocratic English accent, but there were more important matters to see to. He turned on his heel and walked out. ‘Hurry up, Perkins,’ he shouted over his shoulder.

Perkins rose. ‘I must go,’ he said.

The Doctor stopped him for a moment. ‘Remember you’ve seen nothing,’ he said.

‘Eh?’ Perkins replied.

‘Your eyes, remember,’ said the Doctor. ‘You wouldn’t want another headache, now, would you?’

‘N-n-no, of course not,’ said Perkins.

’I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,’ said the Doctor,

‘we ladies are going to leave first. You’re going to sit here comfortably for ten minutes before you get up to go.’

Perkins stared at him in a complete panic. ‘But Mr Grey

– ’ he began.

The Doctor continued: ‘Because I shall be watching you for all that time, and one move, and...’ He raised the pistol again.

Perkins nodded his head unhappily, sweat pouring off his brow. ‘Yes, sir, I understand sir.’

‘Come girls,’ said the Doctor, ‘let us leave this rough place. I’m sure he’d have cheated anyway.’ As they walked across to the door he looked back at Perkins. ‘Ten minutes, remember.’

Perkins nodded, almost in tears. ‘Ten minutes.’

Once outside the inn, Polly and Kirsty looked around quickly, then urged the Doctor forward.

‘Where are we going?’ said the Doctor.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Polly, ‘we’ve found a hiding place.

It’s quite safe. Come on.’

Following the back lanes of Inverness, they came to the barn set at the back of a large stables.

‘We’re quite safe in here,’ said Polly, opening the door.

Once inside, the three, out of breath, sank down in the hay, and Polly began laughing. ‘The sight of that horrid little man’s face,’ she said, ‘when you stuck the gun under his nose.’

For the first time, Kirsty also started laughing. ‘It was a picture right enou’.’

The Doctor brought out the pistol, aimed it at the far side of the barn, cocked it, and started to squeeze the trigger.

‘Careful, Doctor!’ said Polly, alarmed.

‘Och,’ said Kirsty, ‘you’ll bring the town down upon us.’

The Doctor pressed the trigger, the lock snapped harmlessly forward. He lowered the gun. ‘Quite safe,’ said the Doctor, ‘I unloaded it last night. Nasty dangerous things, guns,’ he added, and put it back in his pocket.

Polly couldn’t help giggling again. The relief of being back with the Doctor after the desperate hours of having to be the leader and make the decisions made her feel quite light-headed. ‘You know that gear rather suits you, Doctor,’ she said.

The Doctor looked down at it, interested in spite of himself. ‘Do you really think so?’ he said. He looked over at Kirsty.

‘You’re the very image of my auld granny McLaren,’ she said. ‘Only she canna speak a word of English.’

‘You’re marvellous, Doctor,’ said Polly. ‘You’ve even managed to cheer Kirsty up.’

Kirsty’s mouth turned down again as she remembered her situation. ‘Aye, I’d forgotten where we were,’ she said.

Polly turned to the Doctor. ‘What’re we going to do, Doctor?’

The Doctor flung himself back on the hay and closed his eyes. ‘Oh, it’s so comfortable here,’ he said. ‘What do you suggest we should do?’

Polly wailed despairingly. ‘Oh Doctor, don’t start that again. Don’t go sleepy on us now, we’ve got to do something.’

The Doctor closed his eyes. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Oh.’ Polly’s relief at having shifted the responsibility onto the Doctor evaporated quickly. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘if we only knew where the others were...’

The Doctor’s voice came drowsily across. ‘On the brig
Annabelle
out in the firth,’ he said.

‘What?’ said Kirsty.

‘A ship. The master’s name is Trask.’ He opened his eyes and shook his head. ‘Not a nice man, you wouldn’t like him.’ He closed his eyes again.

‘Doctor!’ Polly flung herself on her knees beside him and dug him in the ribs. ‘Keep awake! If they’re on the ship we’ve got to get them off it.’

‘Orrr?’ said the Doctor sleepily.

‘Or,’ said Polly. She had her hand to her head, thinking hard. ‘We try and capture the ship.’

‘What would we do that for?’ said Kirsty.

Polly said, ‘Well surely you could sail to somewhere safe with it. Wasn’t France your ally, or something?’

The Scots girl set her lips and shook her head slowly.

‘I’ll no leave Scotland for anything,’ she said.

‘It would be safer,’ said the Doctor.

‘Never!’ said Kirsty.

The Doctor sat up suddenly. ‘It wouldn’t have to be for long, you know. Just for... let’s see...’ With his encyclopaedic memory for dates and times, the Doctor ran his mind back through the history of the Jacobite rebellion. How long before there would be a general amnesty and pardon and they could return to their glens?

‘Let’s see, it would be...’ then he stopped himself. ‘No,’ he said, ‘not very long, just a while.’

Poor Kirsty had enough on her mind without wondering how a man could see into the future in this way.

‘Just for a while, and then it will be safe to return here again.’

Kirsty still shook her head obstinately. ‘Why should I leave my ain country?’ she said.

The Doctor lay back again. ‘Please yourself,’ he said,

‘but you and your father may both lose your lives if you stay in the glen.’

‘Well,’ said Kirsty, reluctantly, ‘if you’re sure there’s no other way.’

Polly was also remembering her history a little, but she wasn’t as clear about it as the Doctor. ‘The Doctor says it won’t be for long,’ she said.

‘What must we do then?’ said Kirsty.

‘We must make a plan.’ She looked at the Doctor.

‘Doctor, I know you’ve got a plan for us. It’s just like you.

Come on, what is it?’

‘No,’ said the Doctor, closing his eyes again.

‘Oh, come on, I know you better than that. You must have a plan.’

The Doctor still shook his head. ‘Not really,’ he said.

The two girls looked at him in despair and he opened one eye. ‘But I have got a wee idea,’ he said.

Polly sat back, relieved. Just the Doctor playing one of his tricks as usual. She looked reproachfully at him. ‘Oh Doctor!’ she said.

As though recharged and filled with fresh energy, the Doctor sprang onto his knees. ‘Just thought of it,’ he said.

‘Won’t work, of course.’ And then as their faces fell again, he said, ‘but it’s worth a try. Anybody got any money?’

Polly nodded. ‘We’ve seventeen guineas left. We took it from the English Lieutenant.’

’Ah,’ the Doctor rubbed his hands, ‘a fortune in these days. Now, we need weapons, lots of them... and a rowing boat.’

’I can get the boat,’ said Kirsty. ‘I’ve a cousin McLaren who runs a fishing smack out of Inverness.’

The Doctor nodded. ‘Good, and the weapons can be

bought from the English soldiers. They must have hoards of Rebel weapons as souvenirs by now.’

‘But will they sell them to us?’ said Polly.

The Doctor nodded. ‘You don’t know the English soldier. He’d sell you his mother for sixpence.’

‘And then?’ said Kirsty.

‘We smuggle them out to the brig,’ said the Doctor.

Polly nodded her head excitedly. ‘Yes Doctor, then?’

‘And then,’ the Doctor’s face became blank, ‘I dunno.’

He yawned. ‘I expect we’ll find something to do once we get there. I must sleep now.’ The Doctor fell back in the hay, closed his eyes, and with the particular gift he had was instantly fast asleep.