Ghost Messages (15 page)

Dalton’s guttural laugh interrupted her.

“You Irish really are country bumpkins. You can say I stole the horse from you, but my boys here will swear it’s mine. And as for the picture, did you think I’d give it over just like that?” He snapped his fat, sausage fingers. “You’ll never walk off this ship, Whelan. Fenian traitors get what
they deserve and delivering a Fenian who is also a saboteur
should be worth a reward or a promotion, maybe both to Captain Anderson.”

He reached into the pocket of his vest and withdrew a folded square of paper, then opened it. “See anyone you recognize?”

It was the picture from the newspaper. He had given them a fake! The swine had no intentions of keeping his end of the bargain. The dummy picture was proof that he still planned to turn Paddy over to the mob.

Ailish could trace her Irish ancestry back a hundred generations and at this moment, every one of those ancestors screamed for her to get Rufus Dalton.

“Thank you for making this so easy.” Reaching inside her threadbare shirt, she withdrew the shiny whistle she’d found in the Family Saloon and blew on it with all her might. The noise echoed up and down the deck like a banshee’s wail.

Heads turned and immediately, a crowd formed around the group. Captain Anderson along with Cyrus Field and Samuel Canning emerged from the telegraph testing caboose.

“What in thunder is going on here, Mr. Dalton?” the captain asked tersely.

Ailish stepped forward. “Mr. Dalton is returning my property to me, Captain. That statue is mine.”

Everyone, including Rufus Dalton looked down at the figurine. The little horse glowed in the sun.

“This,” he sputtered, holding it up as though surprised to find it in his hand, “…why, this is mine. The little thief stole it from me and now he’s trying to say it was his.” Then he seemed to remember something that needed to be shared. “Why he’s not even a boy, Captain, this here is a girl masquerading. It seems this one is not only a thief but a liar.”

All those around were now listening closely and Ailish could hear mutterings as they stared. The Captain simply appraised her as if trying to see for himself if this was true.

She was in a corner and decided
in for a penny, in for a pound.
She’d given Dalton one last chance to get out of this unscathed, but he had lit the fuse, now she would fire the cannon.

“That’s correct sir. My name is Ailish O’Connor, and I am a girl.” She felt her face blush as she smoothed back a chunk of her shorn locks. “But I had no choice in what I’ve done. Rufus Dalton stole that golden horse from my father and I had to get it from him. Davy said the only way you’d let me stay aboard was if I became a cabin boy, so I did. I tricked Dalton into leading me to the horse then made a bargain with him that if he stopped trying to make everyone believe Paddy was a Fenian, which is a lie, I’d give it back. But Mr. Dalton reneged on our deal and I had no choice but to bring it to your attention.”

Captain Anderson harrumphed. “Indeed, I’d say that shrill of yours has everyone’s attention,
Miss
O’Connor.”

Ailish saw the loathing in Dalton’s eyes, but there was something else waiting behind his hooded lids, a faltering, like the moment after a tree has been sawed through, but before it falls.

“That’s all nonsense, Captain,” he blustered. “Where would an Irish street urchin get a valuable trinket like this? I bought it from a sailor in Sheerness and am taking it home to my wife in Liverpool. She’s expecting our tenth bairn and I wanted to give her something pretty.”

Ailish swallowed and crossed her fingers in the faint hope that her brazen plan would succeed. She could see the hesitation in the captain’s eyes. He was wavering and she had to stop Dalton’s momentum.

“I can prove the statue is mine!” she hastily blurted. “I need only one minute, Captain.” Without waiting, she darted into the blacked out telegraph room, leaving a murmur of voices in her wake.

The darkness enveloped her and she stopped to give her eyes a second to adjust. She’d never been one for risks, but she’d taken one now. She’d gambled everything on the power of the mighty transatlantic cable. It was to be a miracle of communication and she prayed it would live up to its expectations.

“Joe, did it work?” she asked into the silence.

“As well as if the great man were sitting in this room,” her operator friend replied with a laugh.

He gave her a note and she thanked all the saints for their help as she stepped back outside.

Ailish brandished the piece of paper as though she were Joan of Arc and it her victorious sword. “I have a telegram dated today, August 2, 1865, received here on the
Great Eastern
from Sir Peter Fitzgerald, the Knight of Kerry, in Ireland testifying that he saw the bill of sale for that statue and that my father, Michael O’Connor, is the rightful owner.” Her voice was clear and carried across the crowded deck as she passed the paper to the captain, trying to hide the trembling in her fingers. She blessed her da for bragging to Uncle Peter and showing him the proof that they owned the magnificent horse.

Captain Anderson read the telegram and gave it to Cyrus Field.

He read it, and then smiled wryly at Ailish. “Nicely played, young lady. I may have something to add to your victory.” With a bow, he left the gathered group, his Inverness cape swaying jauntily, and then he disappeared into the cable tank.

“Mr. Dalton, please return Miss O’Connor’s property to her!” The weighty authority in the captain’s voice could not be denied.

As though he were surrendering his first born child, Rufus Dalton reluctantly returned the precious statue to Ailish. “You may have won this one O’Connor, but Whelan’s forfeit.”

And with that, he turned his venomous gaze on Paddy and addressed the crowd. “As a good Englishman, I feel there’s something Captain Anderson should know. I have proof that Paddy Whelan is a Fenian traitor!” Triumphantly, he drew out the infamous picture. “Here is a photograph in the London Illustrated News of him consorting with the Fenian leaders!”

Paddy spoke up in his own defence. “Captain Anderson, that is not true. I was at that meeting to hear what they had to say and that is all. I’m not a Fenian. You’ve got to believe me.”

The captain took the picture and examined it.

At that moment, Dalton’s two thugs glanced at each other and nodded then one stepped forward.

“We want to say something, Cap’n. We heard Mr. Dalton say he knew Paddy, I mean, Mr. Whelan, was no Fenian. He was blackmailing him, sir. Planning on inciting a riot, he was, so Paddy would be killed and he could steal the poor fellow’s money.”

Thug Number Two then added his piece. “And we can vouch for O’Connor’s owning that horse too. We should have said something earlier, but we only recently realized what kind of a crew chief and what kind of a man Dalton really is.” With a last scornful look at their former boss, the two sailors retreated into the crowd.

Captain Anderson’s steely gaze was riveted on Rufus Dalton, and his disgust at the dirty tactics used was there for all to see. Slowly, he held up the picture for the crowd.

“Gentlemen, as it happens, I was at this same meeting! If you look in the background, you can see me standing with a group of colleagues, including Sir Geoffrey Thornton, a distinguished Member of Parliament and Clyde Swinton-Jones, Earl of Hardwickshire. This picture means nothing.”

Ailish blinked in amazement then looked at Paddy who shook his head ruefully.

“All I had to do was stand up to this bully and trust in the truth! Captain, I want you to know that O’Connor here,” he corrected himself, “I mean Miss O’Connor, is a hardworking, honest member of the crew. She is blameless in all this, sir, and was only trying to do what was right by her father and by me. She is a loyal friend.”

“At ease, Mr. Whelan. I think there is enough evidence to assure Mr. Dalton a lengthy stay in the brig. I will compile a list of charges, and then when I’m through with him, I shall turn him over to the civilian authorities.” He looked meaningfully at Dalton. “We shall give Mr. O’Connor the opportunity to press charges.”

Ailish felt like singing. She had her wonderful horse and Paddy was safe. They were both going to have a bright and wonderful future. Not a bad day’s work, she congratulated herself and all before ten o’clock in the morning!

Suddenly, a sound that chilled the bone echoed across the quiet deck.

It was the mournful dirge of the alarm gong!

17

Sabotage Uncovered

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

With an organised frenzy, everyone on deck moved
at once. Captain Anderson, issuing orders as he went, strode purposefully toward the bridge to supervise the retrieval of the cable. Men ran down Oxford Street to stop the clanking machinery, others went to the tank access, while still more moved to their assigned stations in preparation for cutting and transferring the weighty length of wire to the bow. Paddy was about to go assist with the dangerous job of splicing when a shout rang out.

“Wait! Look here!” Cyrus Field, emerging from the dark recesses of the cable tank, called in a loud voice which carried over the raucous noise on deck. Everyone stopped, looking to the American for an explanation. He caught Ailish’s eye and with a nod went on. “I have solved the mystery of the cable faults!”

Ailish wondered if she’d heard correctly. Mr. Field had found the villain causing the troubles!

All around her, others were reacting the same way. His words acted like a magnet as men crowded to see what had been discovered. Finally, the truth would be known and the real saboteur unmasked!

The shouting soon brought Samuel Canning and Professor Thomson on deck. They joined the throng that had gathered to listen. Even the gong was still as the entire ship waited for the perpetrator to be named.

Mr. Field waved them all to silence. “This, gentlemen, is a day to remember. The grievous damage done to the cable has been explained. I have our culprit!” He held up a small piece of wire that looked exactly like the others that had been stabbed through the heart of the cable. “This is what caused the faults!”

He went on, silencing the murmurs. “This is a shard of the iron sheathing that is wrapped around the cable to protect it from the ravages of its ocean home. Fragments of this outer casing broke off when the cable was being stored in the tanks, and the weight of the coils, piled one on top of the other, drove the deadly sliver into the wire. I discovered several of these and know it was the cable itself that did the damage and not any man.” He glanced meaningfully at Paddy.

Paddy, standing next to Ailish, nodded. “This will lay to rest any lingering doubts about me the lads may have had.”

Ailish could practically feel him relax.

Samuel Canning, who was in charge of the cable-laying, stepped forward. “The loss of signal is not one hundred percent this time, but after discussing the situation, we have decided we still need to repair the fault to ensure the strongest signal possible. We shall continue the splicing with all haste.”

“Aye, and that means lots of hard work,” Paddy said. “I’d best get at it.” He gave her a tip of his cap and moved off.

As the crowd dispersed, Ailish could hear men saying they had known all along it wasn’t Paddy Whelan and that he was a good Irishman.

Ailish decided the hearts of men were more changeable than the winds at sea.

During Mr. Field’s revelation, Ailish had stood clutching the small bejewelled horse. She knew there was nothing she could do to aid the cable repair but stay out of the way and fetch gallons of hot coffee to the men as they laboured to fix the dead line.

Deciding she would not tempt fate or the honesty of the rest of the crew now that the news of her fabulous horse was sure to have spread, she stopped at the purser’s office to have her treasure locked up next to Paddy’s in the ship’s safe, then she went to the machinery storage hold to tell Davy what had happened.

– - • – –

Davy, sitting on his box, smiled broadly when he
saw her. “Tell me all about your adventures. I’m in need of hearing something other than the clang of that accursed hammer of Charlie’s.”

Ailish settled opposite him and recounted the entire tale, from beginning to end, then retold him about the cable itself proving Paddy innocent because she liked the sound of the words as she spoke them.
Innocent. Not a Fenian.
They were all great words.

She could tell Davy truly enjoyed her company and her story, which she drew out with as much detail as possible. “So you see, everything is working fantastically well. My da and I will soon be owning our own fishing boat and real house in our new home in Newfoundland and Paddy will take his money to his family so they will be safe.” She stood up and stretched. “And now, I’d best be going topside to see if there’s anything I can do.”

“Don’t go yet!” Davy pleaded. “You’ve only just arrived.”

Although they both knew this to be untrue, something in his voice tugged at her. He sounded so lonely. There were five hundred men aboard and even working the dreadful hours he did, there was time to socialize; still, she remembered how she never saw him anywhere but here. A pleasant shiver danced down her spine, making it tingle. She sucked in her breath at the unexpected sensation.