The Quality of Mercy - By Barry Unsworth Page 0,33

appearance and unsteady with drink. Stating his business, however, was not enough to gain him entry. The turnkey asked for a shilling, which he declared to be the usual tariff, but was then visibly content to get the threepence that Ashton handed him through the bars.

Oppressed by the stench and grimness of the place, Ashton took refuge in levity. “Well, my friend,” he said, “if it will keep you drunk the longer, I suppose it has to be seen as a good cause. It is not surprising that a gatekeeper to the infernal regions should ask for a sweetener—there is good precedent for it.”

No reply to this was forthcoming. He was led across the short yard to the Lodge, where he found two assistant keepers making up a tray of wheat bread and sliced pork.

“You the visitin’ gen’leman what ordered up the vittles for the press yard?” one of them said at sight of Ashton. “Sixpence ha’penny, yer pays beforehand an’ takes the tray yerself. If yer wants it taken up, that will be eightpence.”

“I can eat better than that round the corner at half the cost,” Ashton said.

“Ah, yes sir, but yer not suffrin’ from the ’andicap of bein’ in confinement, are yer now? Prices is subjec’ to circumstance, every mother’s son knows that.”

“I see you are a philosopher,” Ashton said. “I am not he who ordered the food, I have nothing to do with the press yard. I want to speak to the Keeper. I want to ask him for an hour or so with the seamen who are awaiting trial on the piracy charge.”

“Them as threw the blacks over the side an’ rose agin the captain an’ made off with the ship?”

“Those are the men, yes,” Ashton said, impressed again by the way in which these separate events were taken as belonging all together in the popular mind.

The man looked Ashton over for a moment, taking in the cut and material of his clothes, the silk cravat, the ebony cane. His nostrils twitched at the smell of the vinegar. “The Keeper ain’t ’ere today, sir,” he said. “He is rangin’ abroad on matters of public concern.” The other man sniggered at this but said nothing.

“To whom can I apply, then?”

“There is several of ’em, as I recall. An’ yer wants to see ’em all at the same time. That means two armed men to keep a watch out an’ prevent ’em doin’ you a mischief.”

“That is not likely. I am here to help them.”

He had time privately to acknowledge that this was not strictly true before the man said, “Goin’ by time an’ ooman resources, that comes to one shillin’ an’ sixpence, sir. Cash down.”

“Don’t you get wages?”

At this both men smiled broadly, the first smile he had seen on either of their faces. “Wages, ho yes,” the younger one said. “What is them?”

On handing over the money, he was led to a narrow, evil-smelling courtyard immediately behind the lodge. The gate to this was unlocked to him; he was joined shortly by two taciturn men with pistols at their belts and staves in their hands, and the three of them waited in silence between the high walls of dark brick that enclosed the yard.

Ashton stared at the wall before him, trying to rehearse in his mind the best way to conduct the impending interview. It was of first importance to gain the men’s confidence, try to break down the distrust they would feel toward any that came with seeming authority from the world outside. Only thus could he lead them the way he wanted them to go.

Lost in these thoughts, he was startled, almost, to hear the rattle of the gate and see the men being led in. Among the variety of experiences that the case of the Liverpool Merchant had in store for him, this first sight of the remnants of the crew was to remain one of the strongest and most lasting. He had thought much of these men, but always as a group, undistinguished one from the other, a single body with a single mind, under the captain’s orders at first, then joined in rebellion. It was with a distinct sensation of surprise that he noticed now the differences in feature and stature among them as they came through the gate, and saw the glances, bemused and uncertain, of those who have been thrust out of dimness into light. All were bearded and unkempt, but he noted that one was squat in build