Jane and the Prisoner of Wool House Page 0,80

in search of Nell because she asked it. She says she is in fear for her life.”

The anger died out of his face. He settled once more in his chair and took a gulp of grog, scanning my countenance over the rim of his tankard. Then he sighed and set the loathsome mixture carefully on the table. A faint scent of rum laced the air.

“What do ye want wit' her?”

“That I cannot tell you.”

“May not—or won't?”

“Twice in three days Nell has sought my brother urgently. There is a matter of great importance she wishes to convey. And yet Captain Austen declares that Nell is unknown to him.”

“Many a man has said the same, to her sorrow,” Jeb Hawkins observed.

I leaned towards the old man and held his gaze. “My brother does not know this woman. And yet she wishes to speak to him. Captain Austen was from home when she came today, and she was sent away in disappointment. I am come to relieve her mind.”

Jeb Hawkins glanced from my face to Jenny's. Then he reached for a small ivory pipe, and settled it between his lips. “In fear for her life, you say? What has Nell to fear, in parting with such a bitter lot? She would be well out of her sorrows, and she found her grave.”

“Surely while there is life in mind and body, there must be hope of amendment,” I said.

He considered this. He rose from the table and ducked inside his small cottage to fetch a taper from his fire, then lit his pipe while standing in the doorway. I waited while the tobacco caught, and the smoke began to draw; I saw his narrowed eyes shift about the lane and then return to me. He lifted his shoulders in a gesture of surrender.

“I will not tell you where to find my Nell,” he said. “I shall send word by a trusty boy. If she is truly in fear for her life, better that no one know where she bides.”

“Tell her Captain Austen's sister begs the favour of a meeting,” I suggested. “Tell her that I shall be walking with my maid near the Water Gate Quay. She might find me there within the hour. If she does not appear by eleven o'clock, I shall return to my lodgings in East Street Please impress upon her that we are most anxious to hear what she has to say.”

“I'll tell her.” He took his pipe from his mouth and fastened me with a look. “But God help you, miss, if Nell comes to the slightest harm.”

1Jenny's long acquaintance with the Austen family—she had been in their employ since 1803—meant that she had witnessed Jane's involvement in the investigation of previous crimes, in Lyme and Bath particularly.—Editor's note.

2Southampton's medieval walls still enclosed a good part of the city during Austen's time, and the eastern wall was bounded at its far side by a drained moat. The Ditches, as this area was known, ran north from Winkle Street, which fronted Southampton Water, to Bar Gate, a distance of more than half a mile.—Editor's note.

Chapter 17

What the Drab Saw

28 February 1807,

cont.

~

NELL RIVERS DID NOT KEEP US WAITING LONG. WE achieved the Water Gate Quay inside of ten minutes, our steps hastened by a fervent desire to put the district east of the Ditches entirely at our backs. The Quay is a lengthy, imposing structure thrust well out into Southampton Water; it provides an excellent walk despite the constant bustle of embarkation and landing. Jenny and I took great gulps of fresh sea air as we paced the stones, and gazed out at the ships tearing at their moorings. A hulk there was such as I had not observed before, dismasted and deprived of its rigging. It rode at anchor like the ghost of glory, mournful in its fractured state, a vessel becalmed for the rest of its days. I wondered at its purpose. Such ships are sometimes found at Spithead, for the lodging and training of landsmen and young officers; it was these that had seen the worst of the mutinies in '97. But a hulk was a rarer sight off Southampton.

In contrast, I picked out an East Indiaman, which we learned from the chatter of small boys agog at the sight, had anchored but an hour before. She was broad of beam and low in the water with a considerable cargo, all her gay flags flying. The harsh calls of sailors echoed across the water, and skiffs were

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