Books and banter by W.H.Manke

Henry’s furlough ended before Benjamin returned from Eagleridge.  A few days later his mother and Melissa accompanied Benjamin to the school where he was to study until the Christmas holidays.  Meredith, as always had packed for him twice more than he would have taken himself.  Melissa also added some goodies into his baggage that he would find in due time.  She also wrote a note to him. She stuffed into a bag of cookies she had baked just for him.  Melissa’s note spoke of her love for him and encouraged him to find enjoyment in all his studies.  “Love you always.  Please forget me not,” she wrote to end her note.

On their way to the school they stopped for a night at Holbrook Hall.  Lady Lydia greeted them with gladness.  The captain, her husband, was away on business.  Lydia had hoped that Meredith would make the small detour to the Holbrook Estate on their way to the school and visit with her.  Rebecca and Victoria, the Dranton’s daughters, were happy to see them all too.  Soon after their arrival Rebecca asked Benjamin to watch her ride her pony.  Victoria occupied Melissa for an hour.  Later in the evening, seated comfortably in the sitting room by the fireplace with a book written by a fur trader who had spent years in North America, Benjamin’s interest peaked when the author described  his dealings with three Blackfoot tribes.

Lady Lydia had gone to kiss her daughters good night and say a prayer with them.  For the moment only the crackling of the fire was heard in the room.  Benjamin’s thoughts turned to Sweet Hummingbird, his uncle’s daughter and his own cousin.  “How I long to find her one day,” he whispered, and in his mind he tried to sort out how he might go about searching for her.

He was deep in thought when Lady Lydia returned.  As usual, the lady in her bubbly way had many stories to relate and much news to report.  “What do you think of the marriages of

George Wickendew’s daughters, Meredith?” Benjamin heard her say.

“The girls were getting on in age, Lydia.  They are nearly thirty, are they not?” his mother replied.  “It was past their time to marry.  I only thought the nuptials, both on the same day and announced less than a month before the weddings, were arranged too quickly.  We were away from home and did not receive the invitations until we returned to Hawking Manor, after the wedding day.”

“I missed you there, my friend,” Lady Lydia said.  “It was a small affair.  The brides seemed much too bashful, and I fear the grooms drank too much wine.  But our good mayor was in fine form.  How he carried on about his exploits and strange philosophies.  Now I hear it said that the good mayor landed both husbands for his daughters with a net of trickery and guile.”

“Lydia, no, George Wickendew cannot lack so much virtue as to trick a man out of his freedom to gain his daughter,” Meredith laughed.

“How could Mr. Wickendew deceive two men on such consequential business, Aunt Lydia?” Melissa who had listened with great interest wanted to know.

“It’s shameful what I hear reported,” Lady Lydia explained.  “I hear the Lord Mayor had invited both men some time ago to fish with him on his property.  Having caught only small fry, the mayor busied himself to catch much bigger fish.  He begged the men to stay the night and be at ease with him.  They ate and drank until they were much too full.  All but the good mayor and his frail wife succumbed to the sweet wine.  Late the next morning when the men awoke with heads pained greatly from the excess of the wine, they found themselves in bed, each man with one of our corpulent George’s daughters.  They say the mayor roared much like a wounded lion when he, pretending to look after the men’s health in their own chambers, is said to have found them instead passed out in his daughters’ rooms with their breeches on the floor and the women scurrying from the rooms weeping like wine bottles out of their elements.  The men both swore that they had no recollection of how they came to be in the women’s chambers.  Both insisted they went to bed in the rooms assigned to them by the mayor himself who had assisted them there the night before while his daughters lay sound asleep.  The men begged the mayor to confirm with his daughters that they had not propositioned them.

Their pleadings were of no avail.  The two women could not recall all that had happened to them.  That very day George extracted a promissory note from both men binding them to marry his girls should they come down with the malady of child.  With child they were our good mayor was to have told the unfortunates some time later.  He gave them each a nag and a few sheep for a dowry and saw them married a month later.”  Lady Lydia giggled and laughed before she continued.  “Now it is said, and I believe it to be so, because the girls for too long showed nothing of a child, that the babies will not see the light of day until the blokes have been married eleven full months to the now expectant mothers.”  The lady began to laugh again and Benjamin could see a smile on his mother’s face.  But there were only sober looks on Melissa’s face.  “It is a shameful story, is it not?” Lady Lydia roared concluding her report.

Melissa was not amused.  She reflected on what she had heard and wondered within herself whether the women or the men suffered the greatest wrong.  “Can any good come of such trickery?” she asked.  The question brought a sober look upon the older women’s faces.  Instead of answering Lydia began to praise Benjamin for his kindness to Rebecca. 

His third and last year at the school passed slowly for Benjamin.  He had worked diligently and was a successful student, but more than any other year he missed his home and the people he loved.  Many days of the winter months were exceedingly wet and dreary, and Benjamin often could be seen standing by a window yearning to be outside at Eagleridge or riding a horse over the meadows of Hawking Manor.

One bright spot was the day when his parents and Melissa came to visit him to celebrate his seventeenth birthday, although he was saddened to hear the news that his grandmother’s health had grown worse in the months since his Christmas vacation.

Benjamin’s happiness knew no bounds when his last day at the school arrived in mid May.  His parents and Melissa arrived early to pick him up and together they traveled on to make the long trek to Liverpool where Henry was quartered.  Henry’s regiment had recently returned from a tour of duty for the British East India Company.

Henry appeared to be a different man.  He seemed relaxed and was considerate to both Samuel and Meredith.  He offered kind words to both Melissa and Benjamin.  “My dear mother,” he said when the Carstairs sat together for the evening meal a few days later, “in less than one year’s time I shall have finished my duty with the regiment and to my delight will return to

Hawking Manor and my family.  Father, I am ready to take my place at your side.  I have seen something of the world and am content to spent the rest of my days at my own home.”

Both Samuel and Meredith were happy to hear Henry speak fondly of Hawking Manor.  “It will be good for you to learn our business, my son,” Samuel replied.  “You will find that Hawking Manor has not been left untouched by a changing world, but our prospects are exiting.  We are favored with a loving family and a heritage sound and strong.  Your mother and I will bless the day when you will be with us again at home.  But tell me, what are your thoughts on the steam powered carriages that have come into use and are now starting to provide transportation for more than a few people?”

“A plague upon them, sir!” Henry became instantly agitated.  “Father, can you not use your influence with your friends in Parliament to have them banned?”

“I fear they are with us to stay, my son.  One day they may very well make the horse an unnecessary luxury.  In my thinking it will be to a man’s benefit to be involved with the invention’s development rather than to oppose it.”

“A plague on them, I say,” Henry continued to berate the invention.  “Give me a horse and do away with the smoke spewing monster.”

“I have prayed for the day, my sweet Henry, when you will return to Hawking Manor and only wish that it was tomorrow for a year can be so long.”  Meredith attempted to change the subject of the horseless carriages seeing how different the views of father and son were on the issue.  She put her arm around her son who was seated next to her at the table.

Henry’s duties with the regiment kept him busy for the next two days, but Jonathan Spencer, the son of a successful shipbuilder and the young man courting Melissa, came to pay his respects.  In his and Melissa’s company Benjamin spent many happy hours.  Jonathan, who knew Liverpool and its surrounding area well, showed them many interesting places.  The young Spencer had studied architecture and engineering.  At twenty-six he had begun to establish himself in the business community.  He was a considerate and well-mannered individual. Benjamin quickly learned to like him.  Even though Jonathan was nine years older than he was, they became friends and shared a common interest in the Americas.  Their conversation often touched on their knowledge and impressions of the New World.

A few days later Meredith, Samuel and Melissa took three days to visit Meredith’s sister as well as Hannah and Sidney who were visiting there for the weekend.  Henry begged Benjamin to stay behind to celebrate the end of his school days and his own return from overseas.  “I have several good friends you must meet, brother.  In their company we will find merriment and laughter.  They will gladly help us celebrate our new season.  I have told them much about your many fine qualities.  They are eager to shake your hand.”

Benjamin at first was reluctant, but he warmed to the idea to have his brother as his friend.  To celebrate both of their successes together seemed like a good idea after all.  With a little encouragement from his parents, he accepted Henry’s offer and agreed to celebrate Friday evening and Saturday with him.

Friday afternoon Henry and his two compatriots arrived from their quarters.  They rode merrily into the compound of Lord Stambury’s residence where the Carstairs stayed during this stay in Liverpool.  Samuel and Winston Stambury were friends.  They had served together in the forces a number of times.  Samuel had come to his friend’s rescue on one occasion when they traveled through Kashmir, and hostile tribesmen surrounded them.  Henry greeted Lord Stambury and his wife and introduced his comrades to them.  He inquired about Benjamin, after exchanging a few pleasantries.

His brother appeared on the stairs at that moment.  “Ah, there he is!” Henry shouted seeing him descent the stairs.  “My good brother, I want you to meet two very fine follows.  Timothy and Eugene, this is my brother Benjamin.”

Timothy Stillwell shook Benjamin’s hand and greeted him with a friendly smile.  Timothy was of slight build.  He seemed unpretentious and in his eyes sparkled with a love for life.

Eugene Fairham stepped to Benjamin without extending his hand.  “I say, Henry, is this the youth with the cunning mind?”  He walked around Benjamin in a pretentious show of admiration like one would seize up a fine stallion.  He laughed at Benjamin.  “Your brother has made us well acquainted with you, Benjamin.  Accordingly, we shall keep a sharp eye on our knickers.”  Again he laughed.  Benjamin noted coldness in his eyes.  He felt quickly at ease with Timothy, but it seemed to him that it would not be wise for any man to turn his back for long on Eugene Fairham.

At Henry’s request Lord Stambury sent a servant to instruct the stable boy to saddle a horse for Benjamin.  Soon after that the four men rode out of the gate.  It was obvious to Benjamin that his brother and Eugene had already celebrated for some time.  They were in a boisterous mood.  “I know of a fine tavern not more than a mile or two from here,” Eugene called to the three.  “Let us begin our jolly night there.”  He spurred his horse aggressively.  Benjamin flinched when he saw it.  He let his horse fall in beside Timothy who seemed gentler than Eugene.  He also was quiet by comparison.

At the tavern, where Eugene appeared to be well known, he burst to a table near to a group of three men who looked unsavory and hostile to Benjamin.  They were barely seated when Eugene bellowed forth to draw the attention of a red haired barmaid across the room.  “Kathleen, sweet wench, let us see your bosom or else fetch us some sack.”  Kathleen, her face painted too much, came to their table when she chose to be free.  Eugene reached for her and pulled her into his lap.  “Have I not called for you before the sun burned hot this day, good woman?”  He grinned at her.  “We mean to celebrate here this day.”

The barmaid pushed herself off his lap.  “The last time you celebrated at the Ram’s Horn your brawl brought the constabulary to our inn.  I’ll have none of that tonight or your commander will hear of it.”  She tweaked his ear and pretended to scold him.

Eugene laughed his wicked laugh and slapped her on her buttock.  “Tonight we are much reformed.  Look at this youth.  Have you seen angels fairer than this?  We drink to his happiness tonight.”  Eugene and Henry ordered sherry.  Benjamin followed Timothy’s lead and asked for cider not yet fermented.  “Not yet fermented,” Eugene shouted out, “Henry, have we come to be merry or bury a friend?  Men is this a nunnery?”

“Leave him be, good friend, he has not touched strong wine,” Henry laughed.  “He will surely burden us too soon, if we let him taste a pint of sack.”  After that Eugene began to taunt Benjamin whenever he felt like making a joke.  Benjamin decided to ignore him as much as he could, which did not seem to humor Eugene but made his eyes burn with inward anger.  After their second round of drinks, Eugene started up a conversation with the three men seated near them.  From them he learned of a bear pit at the edge of the city.  “What say you men, shall we have a little fine entertainment before the night begins?”  He led the way to the horses and once in the saddle he was first out into the street.

Benjamin was to become acquainted with much he had not known to that day.  The bear pit was a brutal form of entertainment favored by brutal men.  His eyes followed with disgust three crazed dogs that attacked and tried to tear at a bear chained to a post.  He watched the bear lashing out his paws trying to defend himself.  “Henry, let us go to agentler form of entertainment,” he said turning to his brother.  “This is no sport for gentlemen.”

Eugene overheard Benjamin’s comments.  He snarled at him, “Would our fair boy rather go to play tennis?  Or does he savor to partake in the excitement of singing in a choir?  Timothy, do you know of a choirmaster hereabouts?”  He continued to poke fun at Benjamin.

Benjamin determined not to let the older man affect his good senses.  He smiled at his tormentor, and asked Timothy how he liked the bear-baiting.

“I would prefer to see a match more evenly played myself,” Timothy said.  “Three curs and a chain, it seems to me, gives too much of an advantage.”  The roar of the bear swallowed up the rest of his words.  The animal driven into a great fury suddenly broke off the chain and began to maul the dogs hitting them with powerful blows of his massive paws.  When the dogs lay bleeding on the ground the bear straightened and looked up snarling, ready to pounce on other attackers.  The ring of spectators drew back.  Only the angry breathing and snorting of the furious bear could be heard.

Benjamin stood twenty paces from the beast. He knew it would be dangerous to back away.  To the utter disbelief of the crowd he slowly lifted his hand toward the animal and began to speak to it in low, soft tones.  The bear looked at him, bellowed and took several steps toward him.  Benjamin remained calm all the while speaking to the animal and looking into itswildly blazing eyes.  Slowly the animal dropped to its four feet and remained where it stood.  Its growling lessened slowly and then stopped.  The crowd stood frozen with terror.  Carefully Benjamin now moved toward the bear a few steps at a time.  His words became louder.  He stopped from time to time to gauge closer the animal’s demeanor.

Time seemed to stand still for Henry who wanted to call out to his brother to make a run for it, but his words failed him.  Finally Benjamin reached the bear.  Slowly he lifted his hand toward the bear’s head.  The animal growled baring large fangs but did not strike at the man in front of him.  Gently Benjamin stroked the animal behind his ear very carefully, still speaking to it.  Looking around it, he saw the cage in which the animal was brought.  Next Benjamin took off the iron collar from the bear’s neck, and after a few more minutes of stroking the bear, he led it slowly into the cage.

A growing murmur began to run through the crowd.  All eyes were fixed on the youth.  Benjamin stepped toward the man who appeared to be the owner of the animal and quietly spoke to him.  Then he called to Henry.  “Brother, I have had my fill of men who must chain an animal.  Let us find entertainment fit for Englishmen.”  With that he moved toward the place where they had left their horses.

Henry caught up with him.  “What did you say to the man whose animal this is?” he wanted to know.  “He looked like he had seen the devil.”

Benjamin looked into his brother’s eyes and replied, “I said to him that if I hear of him mistreating the bear again, I shall come again to turn the animal loose on its master’s miserable carcass.  Would you have had me be blunter?”

Henry took a step backward and only looked at his brother.  He was not sure what to make of him.  He had always thought of him as the youngster who was a bother to him, someone with whom he had to put up, because he was his brother.  The incident with the bear greatly impressed him and made him see Benjamin in a new light.  What he had witnessed in the past hour seemed too unreal to him.  Henry remembered his Uncle Andrew taming a wounded wolf, but facing down an angry black bear was incomprehensible to his mind.  Thinking that his brother had amazing qualities was not a comfortable thought for him, but for the moment he admired him.

To Timothy Benjamin was an enigma.  “This youth seems gentle, naïve and even timid. Yet, he is totally unafraid of a furious, wild animal and is able to subdue it by sheer will power,” Timothy whispered, uncertain what to make of the young Carstairs.

Eugene’s thoughts, however, were not favorable of Benjamin.  He pulled Henry by the arm.  Benjamin heard him whisper to his brother, as they reached the horses, “I fear your brother has gone mad, Henry.  He is lucky that bear did not tear him into thousand pieces.”

Leaving the area they rode in silence for a time.  Before long a steam carriage appeared in the distance.  Eugene spurred his horse and soon fell upon the surprised driver.  He berated the man and cursed the machine that he drove.  He pressed his horse so close in front of the carriage that the frightened man steered the vehicle into the ditch alongside the path he had traveled.  The other three crowded around the furious horseman fearing that he might do further harm to the driver of the carriage.  “That cursed invention,” Eugene screamed, “do you see the hot coals it drops along the path?  Why last fall, my father reported one such monster dropped its foul fuel along our field and by nightfall the crop had burned to ashes.”

Henry and Timothy did their best to calm their enraged friend, while Benjamin jumped into the ditch and helped the driver off the carriage.

While Henry held the fuming Eugene back,the two others pushed the mechanical wagon out of the ditch and send the driver on his way.  To avoid the carriage down the road Timothy led the group into a different direction.  When several minutes later they passed an establishment where billiards was played, Henry suggested they stop to play a few games.  The rest agreed with his idea, and they entered to spend part of the afternoon there.

Henry and Eugene matched skills while Timothy and Benjamin watched.  Benjamin observed that his brother was very skilful at the game and generously gave Eugene opportunities for clear shots to keep the game interesting and Eugene happy.  When another table came free, Timothy offered to teach Benjamin how to play.  The youth learned quickly and enjoyed Timothy’s instructions.

“I still marvel at the way you faced that bear,” Timothy said after they had played for a time.  “Who taught you how to tame such a wild beast?  The bear was ready to do great mischief before you began to speak to it.”

“This bear was fearful for its life and ready to attack anyone it perceived to threaten him.  I had an uncle who could calm and befriend the wildest beasts.  He had much respect for all living things.  He taught me much and I shall be forever grateful to him.  He taught me to be only fearful of an angry God and of men whose hearts’ plot evil.  Most animals, he told me, attack only to defend themselves or to still their hunger.  Depraved men, however, he said, might kill for pleasure.”  Timothy’s regard increased greatly for the young man who was eager to learn from him the rules and skills of a simple game, yet seemed to stand shoulders above other, older men, in wisdom and more consequential knowledge.

Through the rest of the afternoon they stopped at several other houses that offered entertainment.  Benjamin especially enjoyed an hour they spent with a fencing master.  Like the other three he tested his skill against the master and impressed all standing by with his quickness, his precision and his difficult maneuvers.

At the end of the brief session with the fencing teacher a young aristocrat who seemed to be Henry’s age and had watched Benjamin fence, challenged Benjamin to cross swords with

him.  He placed a large sum of money on the table as a wager.  Benjamin at first had no intention to accept the challenge.  He did not like to be on exhibition nor did he care to compete with the person challenging him.  His opinion of the man was not high, and he thought he might only make an enemy when he did not need to do so.

But the man was arrogant and boastful.  He called out for all to hear that Benjamin was afraid to take up his challenge.  He pulled out of his coat pocket several more bills of money and dared Benjamin, at the risk of being a coward, to walk away from the bet.  To convince some in the hall of his own skills he boastfully claimed that he meant to give every betting man four to one odds that he would force Benjamin to give up the fight within fifteen minutes.

Eugene slapped Benjamin on the back.  “Go to it man.  You cannot find better odds and the sum is very tidy.  It will buy you many things.  I may risk a crown on you myself at those odds.  But if you fear the outcome go look for a wench.”

“No need to prove your heart here, Benjamin,” Timothy cautioned him.  This man is not a bear but a bloated goat.”

“I will fight this mocker for you Benji.  Have no fear.  You will not be mocked by such as he,” Henry took off his outer coat as he spoke.

“Thank you, good brother, but I am not afraid to match skills with this man.” Benjamin took all of the money he had on him from his pocket to cover the bet and asked Henry to make up what he was short of the sum.  He placed it all on the table where his challenger had deposited his bills.  “You may have to pay for me later when we dine should I not disarm this strutting bull.”  To the shouts of those watching, the two drew their swords and started to fence.

They advanced slowly at first.  Cautiously Benjamin tried several maneuvers to see what weaknesses he could find in his opponent’s game.  Then he let the other man press him for three or four minutes.  Suddenly Benjamin began a sustained attack.  He feigned to his left, but quickly sprang past his opponent’s left arm lightly touching his shoulder with the point of his sword.  His opponent was skillful, but Benjamin’s quickness, his ability to make his opponent misjudge his moves and the force of his energy caused the aristocrat to sweat in due time.  Benjamin smiled enjoying the game.  Finally, when he countered lightning quickly to the other man’s advance,his opponent saw Benjamin’s charge come too late.  It gave him the opportunity to press past his defense.  Benjamin exploited his weakness quickly and won the match with a surprising and creative thrust to the man’s heart. 

The fellow slowly lowered his sword, scowled at Benjamin and scurried to take his money off the table.  But Henry grabbed his arm and Eugene threatened him with harm.  Timothy took all the money and handed it to Benjamin saying that he could take his ease for a year, live splendidly and enjoy the other man’s misguided generosity and stupidity.

As evening shadows deepened and the first lights began to be lit in houses in the city, the four stopped at an inn at the waterfront to dine.  It was here at the Ship’s Anchor that Eugene began to plot to get Benjamin drunk before they parted for the night.  While they waited for their food to be prepared, he offered several times to buy a round of drinks.  “Timothy and my fair Benjamin will you still insist on cider not yet fermented?  This house is known for its excellent sack.”  Hearing their reply he left saying, “Aye, unfermented milk of the fruit it shall be.”  But he did get the strong cider instead.  Timothy realized Eugene’s trick.  He drank slowly and little.  Benjamin, not having tasted alcohol, did not take such care.  After several drinks he began to feel

hot and giddy.  He liked the light and carefree feeling.  When the food was served and the other three filled their glasses with Rhenish, he did not object to Eugene pouring a goblet full for him.

Henry watched in surprise and by and by realized that his brother was well on his way to getting drunk.  Watching the changed Benjamin he thought it funny at first, but he became a little worried as the night wore on.  “I shall soon have to take my brother home,” he said, “I fear he has no stomach for strong drink.  He shall be a burden to our revelry, men.  What say you?”

“Let him enjoy his new-found freedom, Henry,” Eugene laughed.  “There are many suitable beds nearby, if he should become a burden to us.”

Timothy looked at Benjamin with concern also when the youth began to slur his words greatly, and when he found it difficult to guide his food to his mouth.  “Benjamin, I think your brother’s advice is sound.  You will be a better man in the morrow, if you go to bed tonight.  I will ride with you and see you to your host.”

But Benjamin had never felt so light.  He could not understand his brother and Timothy’s worry.  Eugene was delighted to have the youth remain steadfast in his resolve to spend more time with them, and he did his best to keep Benjamin supplied with liquor.  Henry felt uneasy, but he did not make a stronger plea for Benjamin to call it a night.  “I will put him up soon in an inn nearby and fetch him to Lord Stambury’s house in the morning,” he murmured.

Shortly after midnight Eugene convinced the others to seek a different house where they might find some young women.  Singing and laughing they left the establishment.  A few minutes in the cool night air, after leaving the Ship’s Anchor, Benjamin passed out.  Both Henry and Timothy were instantly prepared to cart the youth to a bed in a nearby inn, but Eugene would not hear of it.  Instead he persuaded the others, who by now also felt the effects of the liquor they had drunk, to drop Benjamin off on the ship anchored in the harbor by which they rode when Benjamin slowly toppled from his horse. “It is a little way back to the inn and there will be plenty of room on the deck of this ship.  I know whereof I speak. He will suffer less under the stars, and we can fetch him home, after a few more hours of merriment.”

Henry did not like the idea, but he did not want to argue with his friend.  They carried Benjamin on board the Fortune Four and laid him in one of the lifeboats.  Going back down the gangplank Eugene suddenly stopped.  “I shall go back and find something with which to cover him.  He is after all not a seasoned Dragoon.  Go untie the horses meanwhile and wait for me,” he said to Henry and Timothy.

Eugene walked back to the lifeboat where he waited until the other two were out of sight.  He quickly lifted Benjamin over his shoulder.  Hearing Henry and Timothy by the horses he scurried away from the lifeboats with his lifeless load.  The ship was bound that very night for North America.  This fact Eugene had learned from the first mate, who had been drinking at the inn where the four men had dined and spent the last several hours.  But Eugene made no attempt to pass this recent knowledge on to the others.  Nor would he tell them when he rejoined them again that he had roused the purser, after he had gone back pretending to place something over Benjamin.  Instead of covering Benjamin to keep him from getting cold Eugene bought a fare for the voyage for Henry’s brother, after he had carried him out of their sight and to the cabin to which the purser had pointed him.

To Timothy’s caution that the ship could sail at any hour Eugene argued that he had heard it was not due to leave until late Sunday.  “The ship’s master means to have his crew in church before he parts the wide sea.” He laughed.

“But is this not a Packet Ship?” Timothy insisted.  “It will sail on schedule whether full or not.  It may be best, before we part company with your brother that we inquire when this vessel is due to sail, Henry.”

“As I have said,” Eugene growled at his friend, “she is to depart on Sunday.  Let us ride on.”  So while the three horsemen, with Benjamin’s horse in tow, rode on in search of company to pass the hours of the night, Benjamin lay on a bunk in a tiny cabin.  Fare to the New World for him Eugene had stealthily purchased from the ship’s purser with Benjamin’s own money.  Even as they rode on the crew of the vessel began to make ready to sail out of the harbor within the next few hours.

“Do not wait too long before you fetch your brother from the boat, Henry,” Timothy urged him once more when they dismounted at the Blue Heron, an inn with a shady reputation. They had come to find the company of women, and Eugene told them in descriptive language of the fine looking wenches he had come to know there.

Hearing Timothy’s caution, Eugene gave his friend an unpleasant look.  “If you wake him too soon, good friend,” he said to Henry parading concern for Benjamin, “he will not forgive you for his head will not quit turning at his command.  Fetch him in the morning.  It will be soon enough.  Or would you rather have him see how you deal with these trollops of Liverpool?”

Henry was uneasy about Benjamin’s absence.  His impulse was to go after him right away.  The voices of his two friends not being in agreement did not help him make a firm decision.  But he decided to put his worries out of his mind for an hour.  At the Blue Heron they found several characters at games of chance and seeing the money on the table, Eugene persuaded the other two to take part in a card game since the stakes were not small.  “Let us test our luck for an hour, men,” he laughed.  “Perchance these rogues at yonder table will pay for our further entertainment.  We may be able to afford to go to the Lamplighter where one year I found some agreeable, warm buttocks, all be it at a tidy sum.”

Both Henry and Timothy lost a small sum of money during the next hour, but Eugene kept winning.  Eventually, to loud cries of victory and a good deal of feigned surprise at his streak of luck, Eugene won an especially large pot.  A sinister looking fellow, sitting opposite him became angry and accused Eugene of cheating.  Those at the table who knew this man regarded him with fear.  Eugene jumped to his feet pretending to be insulted.  He grabbed the money off the table, threw the table over and kicked the man in the pit of his stomach sending a knife flying out of his hidden hand.  The ensuing brawl continued to rage even after Eugene quietly and quickly pulled both Henry and Timothy away from the fighting.

“Let us go hence,” he whispered to them.  This company is becoming boring.  While the rest of the patrons continued to brawl, the three horsemen exited hurriedly and rode off into the night leaving a noisy skirmish behind.

Well out of sight of the Blue Heron Timothy reigned in his horse.  “What say you, men?  Let us fetch Henry’s young brother.  I must be off shortly for my duty is in the morning when you two can sleep.  I think it will be well to see the youth safe with us.”

“I’m for it.  We can put him up in an inn and be on our way to the Lamplighter without losing much time.”  Henry was eager to act on Timothy’s suggestion.

Eugene waved his hand at the two like one who has given up trying to persuade them.  “If you must go, bid me adieu.  The night is young.  You will know where to find me, should you still have an appetite for my company tonight.  But I beg you wake me not until the morrow for you will find me warmed in a woman’s bed.”

They parted company.  Timothy and Henry rode hurriedly into the thickening fog back toward the pier where they had left Benjamin.  Eugene disappeared into the night within the blink of an eye.  Henry could not shake the feeling of unease in his heart.  His head felt heavy from the night’s wine and he sat unsteady in his saddle.  He spurred his horse to greater speed.  The animal’s responding quick thrust ahead almost threw the rider.  But Henry’s strength saved him.

The dock lay some minutes ahead of him, yet it seemed to Henry to be miles away.  The beating of the hoofs of the two horses in the hollow night mocked Henry.  He breathed in relief when he saw the familiar harbor front faintly come out of the fog ahead of him.  Both riders continued to drive their horses full out toward the Fortune Four’s berth.  Suddenly Timothy reined his horse in and came to a stop.  Henry, looking back, stopped too.  Surprised at his friend’s action he called out to him, “Has your horse thrown a shoe?”

Timothy shook his head.  He looked at Henry as if he had seen a ghost.  Finally, with his voice shaking, he said, “Look there, where the Fortune once stood.”  He pointed to an empty berth.

Henry looked in disbelief.  He raced his horse to the spot where the ship had docked.  “We have come to the wrong place,” he stammered.  Racing his horse up and down the berth he shouted into the night one painful cry, “Benjamin!”

Timothy was at his side.  “Let us inquire at the Ship’s Anchor, where we dined last night.  Perchance your brother has left the ship and has gone there.”  Timothy led the way to the inn.  But Benjamin was not there.  To their dismay they learned that the Fortune Four had left its berth more than an hour earlier and had disappeared into the thick fog that hid even the water from view.  To Timothy’s inquiry as to its destination, they learned that the Packet ship was bound for Boston in the New World.

“Let us go back to our quarters, Henry.  There is nothing more we can do here tonight.  My duty starts soon with the cock’s crow, but I will see you later in the day.  We will be able to think of what we may undertake to remedy this calamity more clearly tomorrow. ”

“I should drive my fist into that false face of our former friend,” Henry threatened.  “The rogue had knowledge of the ship’s departure, I think.  What do you advise I should do to him?”

“You will gain only the wrath of our commander, if you war with one of our own. Neither will you have your brother back by giving Eugene a fat lip.  You will need to answer for Benjamin’s loss to your father and mother, Henry.  Are you not well advised to seek no further trouble?”

“Aye, my father and mother, they will be greatly pained.  I fear they will not easily forgive me for failing them so grievously.”  Henry hung his head.  “I swore once never to touch strong drink again.  Would I had been true to my vow.  But you are right, my friend.  Let us go to our quarters.  The day will come too soon, I fear.”