Ghost Messages (9 page)

Ailish gave him a strained smile. She was cornered. Obediently, she joined the American as she tried to figure a way out of this predicament. Parading on the main deck with a notable like Cyrus Field could only lead to discovery and disaster.

“I hope you have that message memorized, O’Connor,” Mr. Field said as they marched briskly on.

“Why, sir?”

“Because once inside the caboose you won’t be able to read it,” the learned gentleman explained. “The telegraph operators need total darkness to monitor the strength of the electric signal running through the cable. They measure a small pinpoint of light that is thrown onto a special gauge called a galvanometer. If the light jumps off that gauge, we have a fault and the signal stops. No telegraph messages can get through. It’s then that one of the men springs outside the caboose and rings that blasted gong.”

“My friend Davy calls them ghost messages, whispering across the ocean floor,” said Ailish.

Mr. Field smiled down at her. “What a whimsical idea. Who is this Davy?”

“He’s the boy in the hold, about my age and he knows ever so much about this ship.”

Mr. Field opened the last hatchway. “I haven’t met this Davy. He must be new, like you – or perhaps it’s the vast size of this ship and the huge crew we took on in England. Sometimes, I feel like I’ll never have all the passageways memorized.”

Ailish laughed. “Davy is not a new crewman. From the way he talks, you’d think he built this old boat. He works a lot and says he likes it belowdecks better.” They stepped into the bright sunshine on the busy deck and Ailish knew how Davy felt. She would rather have been safe below and not exposed up here where everyone could see her. Furtively, she glanced around, praying the captain was busy elsewhere. She didn’t want to explain who she was or what she was doing on his ship. That would win her a one way ticket to the brig. She trailed behind Mr. Field and decided once they got to the testing caboose, she’d make up some excuse to leave, then go back to find Dalton’s cabin. She’d been so close.

But when they arrived at the caboose, Mr. Field insisted she go through the curtained door first. Immediately, they were plunged into total darkness. Actually, she decided, inside a dark room was a good place to hide. She could sit quietly in a corner and no one would know she was there.

“O’Connor, where are you, boy? Give your message to the operators so they can send it.” Cyrus Field’s disembodied voice commanded from out of the darkness.

Oh, dear. She’d forgotten about that. She couldn’t think of an excuse to exit gracefully and she certainly wasn’t about to give over her map. She had to get out of there now!

Turning, she blundered blindly toward what she hoped was the door and slammed smack into a body just entering the darkened room. The force of her impact sent them both sprawling onto the deck.

“By thunder! Who are you and what are you doing on my ship?” an angry voice bellowed.

Ailish scrambled to her feet. In an undignified heap in front of her was a red-faced man in a fancy naval uniform with lots of gold buttons.

She had bowled over Captain Anderson, master of the
Great Eastern,
and behind him stood Rufus Dalton!

9

Trapped!

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

Ailish was now in a section of the ship she would
rather have avoided – the captain’s office.

“Name?” Captain Anderson asked tersely. He held a black fountain pen poised over an official-looking form that was laid out on his desk.

“O’Connor, sir,” Ailish replied timidly, visions of a damp and dingy cell filling her head.

The captain proceeded to write this down. “I shall require your first name as well and the port where you stowed away on my ship.”

She was stumped now. Ailish was an Irish girl’s name and it would be a dead giveaway to Rufus Dalton, who had accompanied them to the office and continued to stare at her through his hooded reptilian eyes, as though trying to place her.

“Ah, Liam, sir, Liam O’Connor. And I boarded your ship in…” She couldn’t say Foilhummerum Bay in case it twigged Dalton’s memory. She tried to think of the last stop the
Great Eastern
had made before setting off for Ireland. She’d heard scuttlebutt that the cable had been brought on board somewhere in England. Shropshire? Shornette? “Sheerness, Captain! Sheerness, back in England.”

Both the captain and Dalton looked at her in surprise.

Dalton shook his head in disbelief. “But the brat’s Irish, sir, don’t seem right he’d be from England.”

The captain’s glare softened. “Since the Great Potato Famine, life has not been easy in Ireland, Mr. Dalton. Perhaps this boy’s family emigrated to England.” Then his tone became a fraction gentler. “And our young stowaway then decided he would rather be in Newfoundland.”

“That’s right, sir.” Ailish eagerly agreed, knowing sympathy when she heard it. “I have relatives in Heart’s Content who I’m going to stay with and I figured since you were going there, I’d hitch a ride.” That part of the story, anyway, was somewhat true.

Dalton scoffed derisively. “I saw him with Paddy Whelan. They’re thick as thieves those two, sir.”

“Mr. Whelan helped me a couple of times, yes, that’s true, but he doesn’t know I’m a stowaway. He thinks I’m a cabin boy.” Ailish defended Paddy, knowing Dalton was looking for any excuse to show her friend in a poor light.

“That’s neither here nor there,” Captain Anderson interrupted. “My concern now is what to do with you for the duration of the voyage. I’m not prepared to throw you in the brig, although you will be turned over to the authorities when we get to port. Since you’re impersonating
a cabin boy, you can indeed assume the duties of one: running messages, feeding livestock and the like. God knows Henry could use some help with that zoo he brought on board.”

Ailish saw a tiny opportunity to make things better without actually lying to the captain. “Yes, sir, I was cleaning the sheep pen yesterday.” True enough, when the wind was right, she could still detect a faint whiff of dung from her clothes.

“Without being told?” Captain Anderson nodded approvingly. “That’s the initiative I’m looking for. Continue to make yourself useful. If you’re man enough to be aboard the
Great Eastern,
then I expect you to take your duties seriously. Mr. Dalton will oversee you and assign tasks so that you contribute to this ship. You will report to him and remember, Mr. O’Connor, he will report to me. Have I made myself clear?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Relief flowed over her like a cool breeze. Now that she was out in the open, she would have more opportunity to snoop. This unfortunate run in had turned out better than she could have wished for.

Dalton’s huge paw clamped her arm and she winced. “Come with me, boy.” He yanked her out of the captain’s office and shoved her hard against the wall. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m keeping an eye on your every move. Your skinny Irish bones belong to me for the rest of the trip and the first order of business is this – you stay away from your pal Whelan, got it? He’s no longer going to save you from having your ears boxed whenever I feel like a little exercise. If you so much as spit on the deck, I’ll see you spend the rest of this voyage in the bottom of the bilge as food for the rats. Now get a brush and start sweeping!” He shoved her roughly away from him.

Ailish shivered. She hated rats. Nodding mutely, she slid past the angry crew chief and went to find a broom.

– - • – –

True to his word, for the next several days Dalton
kept her so busy, Ailish was exhausted by nightfall. Some of the other members of the crew noticed the way she was being worked and looked sympathetic, but none seemed willing to challenge Dalton’s authority. She had no choice but to be a good cabin boy and run errands, scrub and paint anything that stood still, sweep the deck and tend to the animals. She had never worked so hard in her life.

Ailish kept the image of her da in her head and tried to be very patient. It would be worth it in the end and the bully couldn’t keep on hounding her forever. She just had to outlast him.

It took a long, painful while, but once Dalton seemed assured that she was of no further importance, he did exactly what she thought he’d do – he relaxed his guard. The day came when she knew it was time to begin the hunt once more. She kept the map Davy had drawn tucked in her pocket, always waiting for her chance to slip away and make it down to the third-class quarters where the crew slept.

The afternoon air had grown very still and the sky had an ominous green cast. A squall was coming and from the way the crew was preparing, Ailish suspected it would be a fierce one. As she watched, Dalton shouted orders to secure lifeboats and tie down loose equipment in preparation for the stormy weather to come. He was a harsh taskmaster, but he knew his job and the men jumped to it when he roared his orders.

As the big man strode up and down the long teak deck like an army general gone berserk, Ailish calmly continued to put out hay and oats, clean old straw and tend to the chickens, all the while surreptitiously keeping an eye on her jailor, waiting for her moment.

Finishing the day’s egg collection, she ducked out the low door of the wooden chicken coop to find Paddy leaning against its side, his arms crossed over his chest.

“The word is going about that we have a stowaway aboard.” He raised his eyebrows at her in a questioning way and Ailish felt her stomach sink. “This villain is purported to be about your height and also your age, with close cropped dark hair.” He scrutinised her short locks before going on. “And dressed, well, dressed exactly like you. This ruffian was discovered when he met Captain Anderson in a most impolite manner. Now, with us being such good mates and all…” Here he paused and Ailish felt the weight of the lie she’d told to him. “I’m sure we’d confide in each other if we knew anything. You wouldn’t be able to shed any light on this mystery rogue, would you, lad?”

Ailish’s spirit plummeted. She had few friends on board, two to be precise, and now she’d been caught being false to one of them.

“I can explain, Paddy. I lied to you and for that, I’m truly sorry, but I had to stay.” She looked down at the eggs while she gave him the halfpence account of the incident, absently rubbing the wicker basket’s edge with her finger. When she was finished, she snuck a look up at his face.

He didn’t look much better. “Let me get this straight. You knock the captain down, in front of his men, then tell him you stowed away on his ship while it’s on the most important voyage in history. You’re lucky Captain Anderson didn’t string you up from the yardarm!”

She noticed the merry twinkle in his eyes was back and saw how he was trying not to smile. She’d been forgiven and they both knew it. The sinking feeling evaporated and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter.

“But the worst thing that came out of it is that Rufus Dalton is now in charge of me and he’s a beast. He says I can’t go near you or he’ll throw me in the bilge to be eaten by rats!”

“Nonsense,” Paddy scoffed.

“You don’t know what that monster is capable of!” A vision of her father’s bloody face swam in front of her eyes and she shuddered. “Maybe he will!”

“I told you we’re mates. I’ll keep a weather eye out for you, lad. Dalton’s a bully who likes scaring those he can.” He gestured to the hen house. “And it appears you’ve been a little chicken when dealing with our crew chief. You must like smelling foul.”

Ailish plucked a stray feather out of her hair and waved it under her nose. “Smelling fowl, no, but they do provide a smashing breakfast.” She brandished the basket of newly gathered eggs.

Laughing, Ailish noticed Dalton looking their way. She immediately dropped the feather and pulled the basket closer to her. “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

Paddy followed her gaze, then scowled. “I wouldn’t let that blowhard tell you what to do.”

“But I have to. He’s my new boss, or maybe warden is a better word. I can’t get into any more trouble or it could spoil my plan.”

Her agitation must have showed as Paddy’s tone changed immediately. “There’s more to this than you’re saying, O’Connor. Perhaps you’d better tell me everything.”

“I will, but not here.” Ailish checked to see if Dalton was coming their way. “Later, I’ll meet you in the machinery storage hold. I’ll ask Davy to join us and we’ll explain what’s been going on.”

“Davy? Who is this Davy? Another stowaway?” Paddy asked.

“He’s the bash boy who works belowdecks.” When Paddy still looked confused she went on. “He helps Charlie the riveter keep the ship’s iron plates in good order…”

Paddy was about to say something when a shout stopped them both.

“Get back to work O’Connor, before I have you scrubbing Oxford Street with a holystone!”
Rufus Dalton bellowed from high on the narrow catwalk that spanned the deck from one giant paddlewheel housing to the other.

“I’m done work after the second dogwatch. Meet me below then.”

From what Ailish had been able to pick up from the sailors she’d overheard, the language of the sea was complicated and it occurred to her that she may have told him the wrong time. “That’s eight o’clock tonight, right?”