Read Ram; being the tale of one Ramillies Anstruther, 1704-55 .. Online
Authors: Winchcombe Taylor
"Would ten guineas be sound reason?"
The other's eyes gleamed. "What d'ye want to know?"
"His real work in Dublin."
"Never admitted it, but I'm sharp. 'Listing men for the French or Spanish, I'll swear."
Ram poured more wine. "It may not be of much importance, but" —he handed over ten guineas—" 'twould be well not to mention it here." Then curiosity won, "My lady was for a little an actress. Indeed, she was once in the same piece you play here."
"Aye, pretty Luce Gray. She was Rose to my Kite, back in '31."
"Indeed!" Ram smiled inwardly. "Yes, I can picture her as such."
"Too raw for anything better," Legge confided. "But many could have played it worse." He spoke of other towns where the present company had performed: Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Williamsburg. "But Puritans and Quakers are poor patrons. 'Tis different in Virginia, and here too. The southern colonies appreciate our art, sir."
Poor Lucinda, Ram thought fondly, walking back to his own tavern, how silly to be ashamed she'd never been the great actress she'd hoped to be. As for Savage-Wall, the man was likely a Spanish spy. And the seafaring man with him? Both must be questioned.
The landlord told him that the Samuel would sail with the morning tide and that Mrs. Anstruther had been so informed.
Ram found her abed, but eager for his report on the play. He said he was convinced she must have been a delectable Sylvia.
"And was Rose passable?" she asked, as if idly.
"You'd have played it far better, my love. 'Tis a somewhat bawdy part, but it takes better acting to portray." He got in beside her,
"Ah, yes." She snuggled to him. "Much harder to act than Sylvia." Which was her way of admitting that Rose had been her role.
Turning into Bay Street, Ram doffed his hat to let the harbor breeze cool his brow. Somewhere in the blackness Lucinda was sailing home and he wasn't to be with her in her time of need.
He lurched against a house front and realized his legs were unsteady. The bumpers at the governor's had been potent. Well, Broughton would have Savage arrested tomorrow. Must get to the bottom of this. And the seafaring man? That Bacon, alias Hogg, he'd been a seaman. A pretty nest of spies, if they were together in this. But Hilary would find out, trust his sharp cockney nose for that.
Damn the brandy! Made a man's legs feel like water.
His steps echoed ringingly. There, he was marching now as steadily as if on parade. Left, right, left, right. Keep in step. Damme, who's out of step? He halted, but the steps continued, coming closer, breaking into a run. He scowled. He wasn't running! Skin prickling, he turned to face the runner. His sword was half out when a figure hurtled at him. Fingers gripped his throat agonizingly.
He went down, his assailant falling with him, but never loosening that terrible grip. His brain was numbed, until the instinct for survival surged back and he clawed at the deadly hands. He tried to smash his knees up into his enemy's groin, but they refused to obey. He knew only suffocation, roaring sounds and light flashes.
Then the crushing weight had gone and he was sucking in air.
"Y'honor!" he heard. "You ain't 'urt bad, are yer?"
He sat up weakly, becoming aware of an inert figure beside him and that Hilary was trying to help him up.
'Tm well enough," he croaked. "Who is he?"
"Thank Gord!" Hilary sparked a tinderbox. Its tiny flashes revealed a knife protruding from the prone figure's back. Retrieving it. Hilar)' wiped it on its victim's coat.
"Don't know 'is nime, Major, but I bin follerin' 'im from Savage's lodgin's fer hours. 'Ad me flummoxed when I twigged 'e was follerin' you from the guv'nor's."
At Ram's orders, he sparked the box again and rolled the man over. Weatherbeaten face—leaden now—hair tied in a club, sailor fashion. The description fitted Bacon.
"Cor, lucky I 'ad me knife on me, wasn't it, Major?"
"Yes." If Ram sounded casual, his gratitude was deep, but he was puzzled why Bacon—if Bacon he was—had attacked him. "Search him."
Deftly Hilary found a loaded pistol, a knife, some Carolina currency, a crumpled letter and, tied around the belly, a heavy purse.
Ram pocketed all. "Rouse Peg-Leg and the crew. Bid them drop our friend in the harbor, well out—'twill look he was robbed and slain in some alley. Then have them wait outside the tavern. I've a mind to call on Mr. Savage."
Sober now, he walked on. Had Savage learned somehow that Legge had revealed his recruiting in Ireland? If so, with the actor now at sea, did he fear Ram's discovery so much he must have him murdered?
Ram chilled. Once before his life had been attempted—^by a minion of the great H.E.I.C. Who now—the Spaniards? But surely he could not have created suspicion at St. Augustine. Well, if Savage knew, by God, he'd tell!
In his room, he examined the dead man's things. The purse held Spanish doubloons. Thirty pieces; gold, not silver. The price of betrayal? Each was worth thirty-six shillings sterling, more than £400 Carolina currency. High pay, even for murder.
Tlien the letter. It was brief but damning. It began with a single W and ended with an M, presumably the initials of the addressee and addressor. The text ran: "A must be removed by any means."
Proof!
Hilary had returned and Ram handed him the dead man's pistol, took his own pair and put on moccasins. "Come."
Outside the tavern were Peg-Leg, Matt and Ronny, who reported that they'd disposed of the body as ordered.
"Good. Tom, make sure your stump won't betray our coming. I'm seeking the bird who remained in the nest."
As they moved along deserted Bay Street, Hilary whispered that Savage's lodgings were just ahead, above a ship chandler's store.
"You'll come with me. Tom, wait outside with the lads. If ye hear disturbance, come up ready to fight."
Soundlessly the cockney led the way. On the landing, light showed from under a door.
" 'E's still up," he breathed. "Blink yer eyes 'gainst the light as ye
enter, Major." He gave place to Ram, who cautiously depressed the latch. The door swung inward.
John Savage sat at a table, a bottle and glass before him. "You've taken your time," he grunted. "Is it done? . . . You!"
"Forgive so early a call, Mr. Savage—or should I say Wall? No, keep your hands on the table, sir. Hilary, relieve the gentleman of any weapons." Ram went forward. "I fear Mr. Bacon, alias Hogg— how well named!—can't join us, he being now a wateriogged corpse."
Savage looked ghastly. "I—I'd naught to do with it."
"Thrusting a knife in his back? No, another did that, luckily for me." Ram indicated Hilary, who had taken Savage's sword from a chair.
"I mean, I refused to kill ye."
"So! Who ordered you to?" Ram tossed the letter on the table. "Who signs with the initial M?"
"I won't say."
"You will. Hilary learned some pretty tricks from the Cherokees."
Savage would have yelled, but Hilary clamped a hand over his mouth.
"I've more men below," Ram resumed, "and Governor Broughton will jail ye tomorrow as a suspected Papist and spy."
"Then why do ye come here now?"
"To learn why I've been singled out to be murdered."
"I don't know."
"The truth! Why did Bacon attempt what you refused to do?"
"Money. Money. Now that's out, ye'd best call me Wall, for 'tis as such I'm a late lieutenant in the Spanish service."
"A confessed spy then. And is Caleb Davis also of your ilk?"
"He's another like Hogg, only worse."
"But you serve only for honor?"
"I'm Irish, damn ye! I live only to free my country from you cursed Sasanachs."
"How noble! So ye play traitor and dabble in murder."
"I've said I wouldn't obey the order. I'm a gentleman, not a hired bravo. Murder in the dark I'll not do."
"A nice distinction. Who signs his letter M?"
"I know him only as the Spanish doctor."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"Who else in the colonies is to die? Is this a plot to wipe out leaders like Oglethorpe, Broughton and the magistrates?"
"I know of no others."
Ram signed to Hilary. "Bind him. Twill be dawn soon, and by eight the governor's men will be here. Gag him if he cries out."
Grinning, Hilary bound him to a chair, then tightened a thin cord around his forehead. Wall writhed in agony and soon gave in.
"God! I'll tell what I can! I'd orders from Augustine ye was to be watched. But how, I didn't know, me being engaged in me official duties here. Then Hogg came t'other day—he's mate aboard a coaster —with the letter and the gold. We were discussing the matter when that old putt Legge called me by me true name. It gave me a bad turn, it did, when I ran out and saw ye standing there. But Hogg said he'd do the job, and he's been following you these two days."
"Where did Hogg sail from last?"
"Edenton."
From North Carolina? It seemed incredible. Ram had never been in the northern colony.
"This Spanish doctor? Does he live in Edenton?"
Wall swore he didn't know, never having met him. "But he passes orders on to me, mostly by Hogg. Sometimes I get them from the Havana direct or maybe Augustine. I've even had 'em from Virginia."
"Who sent you here?"
"I came from Spain. With the wars over, penniless lieutenants have small prospects, especially the Irish, I had to earn money to—"
"Hilary!" Ram breathed, for the room's inner door was opening slowly and a pistol muzzle showed in the opening. Silently he moved to the door, one of his own pistols cocked.
Wall tried to cry out, but again Hilar}' stifled the sound.
Ram flung the door wide.
A small figure stood in the opening, gripping a horse pistol in both hands, its muzzle weaving; a girl in a night shift, her gray-blue eyes huge, her dark hair pigtailed.
"Emma—no!" Wall blurted from between Hilary's clamping fingers.
Ram snatched the weapon from her. It wasn't even cocked. He glared at the Irishman. Must he rob cradles?
"Come, lass." He drew her into the room. At sight of Wall bound, she screamed and sprang at Hilary, until Ram pinioned her.
"Let him go!" she shrieked.
"Such devotion!" Ram mocked. "Bid her be silent, lest worse happen to you, and her."
Struggling against his bonds, the captive spat: "Ye louse-ridden dung! To harm a child!"
"Enough!" Ram was suddenly aware of immature breasts under his restraining arm. "You pick your females over-young, sir."
"She's my sister!"
Ram cursed. If this were true, his jibe had been brutal. "Then who's to care for her after the governor's dealt with you?"
"No one. I've six more in religious houses in Spain and France. They'll all end as nuns. But not Emma! At least she must be free to lead a life outside cloisters."
"What kind of life is there for an unguarded child here?"
Tears welled in Wall's eyes. "Holy Mother protect her!"
Though touched, Ram was unconvinced. "I've some influence with the governor. If you confess more about those who'd betray the colonies and who seek my life, things could go easier for you."
Wall's expression revealed his inner conflict. "On your honor, if I tell what little I know, will ye ensure she comes to no harm?"
"Who's the Spanish doctor?"
"I've said I know him only as a traveling spy. And Hogg was merely his courier. There're others, like Davis, who're well paid for information. I send reports when there's anything important."
"To whom do you report at the Havana?"
"Dominguez y Cia, the shipowners, and put an S on the envelope."
Ram looked at the girl, who stood so quietly in his arms. "Child, will you promise to sit quiet over by the window?"
She gazed up at him with fear and hatred, then she sighed in anguish. "Yes." She went to where he pointed and sat sedately, hands folded on her lap, her eyes staring.
"If I let you go, where would you take her?" Ram asked Wall.
"Where else but to another colony? If it were known I've talked, there's nowhere now in New Spain or Old, and Ireland's no safe refuge for a lieutenant in the Spanish Irlandia Regiment."
"I'll not have ye in another colony, or Britain either. Now, either
the governor hangs you or you work for me." He bade Hilary bring up the other men and, when the cockney had gone: "And why the name of Savage, which none but the play actor has challenged?"
"I'm a Wall of County Wexford. But me father died and me mother wedded one Savage, an Englishman." He indicated Emma. "She's of the second marriage. I'm the only son."
"Tom, you know the shipping here," Ram said, as Peg-Leg entered, "what's bound for France?"
"Ain't heard of any, sir. But I mind there's a schooner readying to sail from Yorktown with a tobacco cargo."
"Then to France you go," Ram told Wall. "You'll be safe there, to learn how your precious nest of spies get their orders from Madrid."
"You want me to play the double spy? Never!"
"You wouldn't be the first." Ram turned back to Peg-Leg. "Matt and Ronny will escort our prisoner to Yorktown and not let him out of sight till he sails for France . . . Now, Mr. Wall—"
"Ye can't make me do it!"
"No? Only when you report how the espionage works and who wants me murdered, can you consider your sister safe."
"You'll keep her here?"
"As hostage. Now my lady's gone, I'm lonely. The lass is a trifle young, but doubtless she could serve me."
Wall tried to fight free. "God in Heaven, you cursed Sasanachs!"
Ram slapped him across the mouth. "That's to teach ye manners. Someone in Madrid or the Havana or St. Augustine wishes me dead. I must learn who that someone is. If ye think the child's chastity of importance, find out. Otherwise, I'll take pleasure in making her a whore." Emma, he saw, was evidently old enough to understand his threat and was regarding him with ineffable loathing.
"How can I trust ye?" Wall moaned.
Ram grinned, inwardly relieved. The man was like butter! "A soldier's word. Do my will, and I'll send her back to ye unharmed."