The Quality of Mercy - By Barry Unsworth Page 0,31

fortunes. None of this mattered to Kemp, of course. The man was offered for sale at Charles Town along with the others. By his own and our good fortune, an army officer just retired and waiting for a ship home, a Colonel Trembath, liked the look of him, discovered he could speak passable English, purchased him and brought him back to England as his personal servant. When he heard the man’s story, he gave him his freedom and kept him in his service at a wage.”

Ashton paused a moment, and there was a note of wonder when he spoke again. “He brought him here, to London. He has been here ever since, as a servant in Trembath’s house, under the name of James Porter. The interest the case has roused, the frequent mentions of it in the press, brought it to his employer’s notice. He has notified us that Porter is ready to testify to the effect that there was no shortage of water at the time, that in fact there had been recent rain when these people were cast overboard. He declares that the decks were not yet dry from it on the morning when the deed was done.”

“Of course, he speaks from memory,” Stanton said. “But it will carry weight. What makes it particularly fortunate is that there is no charge against him—he has nothing to gain or lose, unlike the people of the crew, and unlike the first mate, who has turned evidence against them. Generally speaking, in my experience, such a witness is likely to be believed.”

Jane regarded her brother’s face. It wore an exalted expression, almost fierce in its intensity, as if he were ready to take a sword and strike out. “I am so glad,” she said, and Ashton, while knowing that her gladness was for his sake rather than the larger issue, was touched by the affection for him in her words and glance.

“It could make all the difference,” he said. “If we can succeed in having the cases heard together at the Court of King’s Bench, and if it can be shown that there was no shortage of water and even that poor pretext was a lie, the hideousness of this crime against our common humanity will be evident to all but the most callous and wicked.”

Stanton, who felt that Ashton was a great deal luckier in his sister than in the reappearance of the linguister, said, “Well, I must take leave of you. I shall have to examine the wording of this new charge that has been brought against us.” He shook Ashton’s hand, lowered his head over Jane’s. “We will talk again later today,” he said, “or perhaps tomorrow morning. In any case, as soon as I have all the facts.”

“What charge is it that they have brought against you?” Jane asked when he had gone.

“It regards the man Evans. You will remember my telling you that I intended to bring charges for assault and abduction against his former owner, Charles Bolton, in response to his charge against me of theft.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, it has emerged that Bolton had already sold Evans to another man, a sugar planter named Lyons. Imagine it, he had sold him already, even before the abduction attempt, while he was still living peacefully in Chelsea, not suspecting anything. Now both of these men are bringing charges of damages and theft against me. Yes, it is scarce credible, I know, but such are the facts. And with the worship of property that is growing among us, their arguments may prevail. Much will depend on the judge.”

“Let us hope he will be reasonable.”

Ashton smiled. “Well, not too much so,” he said. “An entirely reasonable man is likely to conform too closely to prevailing notions of what is reasonable and put property before all else. No, let us hope rather that he will have a heart open to compassion.”

“You are going out?” She had noticed only now that her brother was wearing shoes instead of slippers and that his hat lay on the table, where he must have placed it.

“Yes, I was about to leave when Stanton came. I am going to the prison. I intend to speak to these men and question them.”

“To the prison? What, into the cell where they are being held?”

“No, I hope to be allowed to see them in one of the yards behind the Keeper’s Lodge.”

“But you will catch your death. Everyone knows it is a hatching place of diseases. No one