CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
At daybreak the next morning, Ben left Jarrah with Jack Stark aboard his barge and headed downstream. They took with them a dozen of the brickyard's fittest and strongest young men. Three hours later, the barge cleared the mouth of the Brisbane River and entered the sheltered waters of Moreton Bay at full steam.
When nightfall came, the shallow draft vessel was rolling heavily, but making steady progress northward in the open sea toward Fraser Island. During the night a second watch took over in the wheelhouse. An hour before dawn, Ben and Jack came back on deck. It was a clear, starry night, and for some time they sat watching the glow of Aboriginal fires, scattered all along the great sand island's seventy-five mile beach.
By midday, the barge was pushing her way through a calm sea, under a clear winter sky. She was now just less than five miles south of Indian Head, a high, sparsely treed rocky headland, about fifteen miles south of Great Sandy Cape on the north end of the island.
`This is the place I spoke of Mr Luk,' Jack said. He pointed toward the shore. `I would say any sailing vessel bound for Brisbane from the Torres Strait, and carrying a sea-wise master, would pass no more than a few miles off-shore of that headland, regardless of whether she sailed south inside or outside the Great Barrier Reef.'
`I only hope you're right Jack,' Ben said. `This is the only chance we'll get.' Jack grinned. `Don't you worry, Mr Luk. Captain Blue will pass close by to the Great Sandy Cape. Because it's here, some fifty miles from the southern end of the Reef, and close
to the shore of this island, that the East Australian current races southward at its strongest. Any vessel, sail or power, fresh from battling the tradewinds to the north, is bound to take full advantage of it.'
Just to the north of Indian Head, lay a deep bay with a pristine, sandy beach. Jack pointed the bow of the barge towards it. An hour later they lay securely at anchor in the shallow water of the bay, just outside the breakers.
Immediately, a landing party braved the surf and rowed ashore in a small boat. They took with them tents, supplies, and provisions—enough to maintain a lengthy day and night vigil from the highest point on the windswept headland.
An hour after dawn on the fourth morning, the look-out party on the headland sighted a press of sail to the northwest of Great Sandy Cape. Soon after, the sails of another vessel came into view. It was what they had been looking for—two sailing ships, one large, and one much smaller, travelling southward in company.
A runner was dispatched to the barge in the bay. The vessel weighed anchor and put to sea without delay.She intercepted the Mendocino Trader, short-tacking to an unusually light southeaster, about five miles off-shore. When the barge drew close, Jack Stark signaled he had a passenger who wished to board the schooner. The Mendocino Trader hove-to, sails flapping, in a gently heaving swell.
Ben clambered into a dinghy, carrying a leather satchel slung over one shoulder. The oarsman soon closed the distance to the schooner. Ben climbed up a rope-ladder and swung himself over the ship's rail onto the deck. He was quickly surrounded by a throng of sailors.
The crowd parted to allow a tall blond-haired
man through to where Ben was standing. `I am Christian Blue, master
of this vessel. What is your business here?'
`I am Ben Luk. I spoke with Mrs Vivian Stokes, just a few days ago.
She told me of your
Christian Blue shrugged off Ben's gratitude. `I did only what any man would have done in the same circumstances, Mr Luk. But you didn't stop me out here on the ocean to tell me that. If you spoke with Mrs Stokes, you would know already, I am expected in Brisbane shortly.'
`That is why I am here, Captain Blue. I have come to tell you that Mrs Stokes, and other opponents to the Melanesian labor-trade, have learned the Colonial Government intends to detain you and the Faithful at the Port of Brisbane and contest your ownership of the vessel.'
Christian Blue shook his head. `And no doubt the government in doing so, is under pressure from the Stonehouse Shipping Company and that slippery bastard Silas Moser. Goddamn his eyes.'
The Captain looked out to sea. The Faithful was now less than half a mile away. `Mr Luk, thank you for the warning. If I am to be denied ownership and the sale of that slaver, then I figure I may as well sink her here and now. That way she will never pass back into the hands of Silas Moser.'
`Don't do that, Captain,' Ben said quickly. He took the leather satchel from his shoulder and held it out to Christian Blue. `In this bag I have the balance of your money. I arranged with Mrs Stokes to purchase the Faithful myself. I feel it is the least I can do.'
Christian Blue looked at Ben in amazement. `And
what would you do with a brigantine, Mr Luk, even if they let you
keep her?'
`I will put her to good use,' Ben replied. `But I need the vessel
for one voyage only. I will also need the services of a competent
master, for whom I am willing to pay an additional five hundred
pounds. He would sail to the Trobriand Islands and return Kiri, her
son, and our unborn child to Queensland. What happens to the ship
after that is of no consequence to me whatsoever.'
`And what kind of captain do you think would be foolhardy enough to
sail a labor-ship into the prohibited waters off the New Guinea
coast, where the vessel may well be impounded by the Royal Navy?'
Christian Blue asked skeptically.
`I would say an adventurer, Captain Blue. A man who has been
compassionate and brave enough to sail those waters before. And
like myself, one who would like nothing more than to strike a blow
against the likes of Silas Moser.'
*
Charles knew the moment he returned to his office at Stonehouse's,
that the work which had accumulated during his absence, would take
weeks of long hours to even begin to bring under control. But he
was pleased to see all of the company's income producing areas
appeared to be still performing well, with the only exception being
freight services to the sugar industry.
Knowing full well the imminent arrival of the steamships
Clare and Catherine would only add to his workload, Charles
threw himself into the task at hand. He arrived at the South
Brisbane wharf just after dawn each morning, and worked without
let-up until well into the night. But he found his concentration
was constantly blurred by thoughts of Vivian.
At first, he had sent daily messages to her at Bishop Gower's
residence in Ascot imploring her to see him. When there had been no
response to any of them, he had called at the house personally,
only to be told by the bishop's young deacon that Mrs Stokes would
not see him under any circumstances.
After that, the long hours spent alone in his office only served to
incubate his smoldering emotions. Eventually, torn between his
work, the heartache of the emptiness of his life without Vivian,
and what he saw as the pointlessness of his existence with
Catherine, he decided he would ask her for a divorce. In the
meantime he would move out of Castlecraig and live alone.
The very next morning Charles went to Catherine's room to tell her
he was leaving. It was very early, and still dark outside when he
sat down on the edge of her bed. He woke her gently. With her eyes
just open, she lay back sleepily, her head on her pillow, and
listened without interruption while he told her what he had to say.
As the words sank in, and Catherine realized what was happening,
she sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake.
`It's Vivian isn't it?' she screamed out at the top of her
voice.
Charles was taken aback. `Vivian,why on earth would you say
that?'
`Because she and her crowd of do-gooders have poisoned you against
me.' Catherine lowered her voice into a petulant whine. `She hasn't
got a husband of her own, so she wants to take mine away from
me.'
`It not like that Catherine,' Charles said softly.
`Don't lie to me Charles,' Catherine snapped angrily. `And don't
try to deny it. I knew from the first day you came home, you had
been having an affair with her. It was disgusting.When I came to
you in the tower that night, it was my body you used, but it was
Vivian you were making love to. I know.You called me by her
name—twice.
Charles sighed and stood up. He walked to the door. `Goodbye
Catherine.'
`You can't leave me Charles Worthington-Jones,' Catherine was
screaming again, `I'm all you've got. Without me you're nothing.
You have nowhere to go. And you'll be finished at
Stonehouse's.'
`I still have my house at Highgate Hill,' Charles said calmly from
the door. `And in case you've forgotten, it's Silas Moser who runs
the Stonehouse Shipping Company. I'm sure my leaving Castlecraig won't make the slightest difference to
him.'
Charles drove directly to the little house at Highgate Hill. It had
not been lived in for over six months, but the last tenant had left
the place pretty well as it was the day Charles moved out. When he
reached Stonehouse's, Charles made arrangements for his things to
be transferred from Hamilton, and for cleaners and a gardener to
prepare his house for occupancy.
When Charles told Silas Moser he had left Catherine and was moving
back into his own house, Moser had no comment. But several days
later, when they stood on the Stonehouse wharf, watching the
steamers Clare and Catherine take on their first loads of frozen meat,
Moser said:
`I think it's probably all for the best, Charles. After all,
marriage can be a millstone around the neck of a man with ambition.
It can prevent him from fulfilling his dreams of the future.That's
why I've always chosen to remain single.' Moser pointed a bony
finger toward the steamers. `Look there. What you see is history in
the making—the first Queensland ships to carry Queensland meat to
the hungry millions of Great Britain.Now, that's where the future
lies for men like us, Charles.'
Charles nodded his head and smiled faintly. In his heart he knew he
must have more from the future. He wanted and needed Vivian to be a
part of it. He decided there and then to call at Bishop Gower's
house one more time. He would go immediately. After all, he had
left Catherine. They no longer lived together as man and wife.
Surely, he reasoned, as he climbed into a carriage to take him to
Ascot, she wouldn't refuse to see him now.
*
The young deacon looked surprised when he opened the door and found
Charles standing outside.
`Please tell Mrs Stokes I must speak with her on a matter of some
urgency,' Charles said, trying hard to hide his anxiety.
`But that's impossible, sir,' the cleric replied. 'Mrs Stokes left
Brisbane yesterday by steamer for Sydney, en route to
England.'
Charles climbed back into his carriage in stunned bewilderment.
When he reached South Brisbane it was already dark, and knowing he
could not concentrate on work, he told his driver to take him
directly to Highgate Hill.
He arrived at the house to find another carriage outside his door.
At once he recognized it to be Catherine's. The carriage door
opened and Catherine climbed out and hurried toward him.
`I went to Stonehouse's to see you this afternoon,' she said
pleasantly. `I waited there for quite some time before coming here.
I would like to talk to you for a few minutes if I may.'
`Catherine, I...'
`It's very important,' she interrupted, `perhaps we can go inside
the house.'
They walked up the pathway and Charles unlocked the front door.
When they stepped inside Catherine waited in the darkness while he
lit a small gas lamp in the narrow hallway. From its glow he lit
more lamps in the living room, then closed the curtains on the
blackness outside. He turned to face her.
`What is it Catherine?'
`I want you to come home, Charles.'
He looked at her in amazement. `But nothing's changed. It's over
between us. We have no children to consider—you saw to that. So I
have no responsibilities or commitments to hold me at Castlecraig.
`Oh but you do, Charles.' Suddenly her voice lost its congeniality.
It rose into a scathing tirade. `You have a responsibility to me,
one which I will not allow you to ignore. I have a reputation and
social position in this colony which you are not going to tarnish.
I am not just anyone. I am the daughter of Alexander Stonehouse.
When I allowed you into the Stonehouse family and changed my name
to Worthington-Jones, I had no intention for it to be on a short
term basis. What I am saying, Charles, is that I will never give
you a divorce. You will remain my
husband.'
`But I don't love you, Catherine.'
She laughed. `What difference does that possibly make. Why should
it?I've never loved you.'
At first her candor amazed him, then hurt and angered him. Charles
opened his mouth to speak, but before words came she continued her
onslaught.
`I spoke with Vivian and Bishop Gower a few days ago. What a
hypocrite that woman is. She comes out here, full of condemnation
of what she calls colonial amorality, but thinks nothing of
coercing you into the worst kind of immorality—adultery and
infidelity.'
Charles' body was shaking with rage. `Catherine, tell me, what
have you done,' he demanded through
clenched teeth. `I learned today that Vivian left suddenly for
London just yesterday.'
Catherine's thin lips curled. `I just told her what you told me,
that you and she were having an affair and that you wanted a
divorce.'
`I didn't tell you Vivian and I were
having an affair,' Charles said fiercely.
Catherine tossed back her long hair. `But she didn't deny it, she
just cried and tried to apologize. And poor Bishop Gower, I don't
know whether he was more outraged or embarrassed. I am of course,
patron and principal fund raiser for several of the church's
orphanages in the colony. I had to point out to him, that not only
would a divorce force the public washing of Vivian's dirty laundry,
but her association with the Exeter Hall Society and the church
would only cause irreparable harm to both institutions.'
Charles felt the fight begin to drain from him. He sat down in a
large lounge chair and held his head in his hands.
Catherine stood and watched as his rage and indignation evaporated.
After a few moments she turned and walked to the front door. She
opened it, and just before she stepped out into the night she
said:
`We decided the best solution all around was for Vivian to return
to England immediately. That way she could avoid the spectacle of
her sordid private life being dragged out into the open—the
reputation of the Exeter Society would remain intact, and Bishop
Gower's orphanages would not be threatened with closure for lack of
funding. Of course Charles, you realize that this compromise is
only possible if you return to Castlecraig immediately.'