Morgan's Run

King’s mood was not improved by the knowledge that the large supply of livestock that he had acquired on his own initiative at Cape Town had not thrived during Gorgon’s onward passage; a tiny remnant only came with him on Atlantic—a few sickly sheep, goats and turkeys, not a cow left alive.

Oh, the whole place was so dilapidated and slipshod! How had Major Ross allowed his jewel in the ocean to sink to this? Yet what else could one expect from a boorish Scotch marine? A trifle full of his own importance and with the Celtic side of him uppermost for the moment, King itched to do great things even as he despaired of Norfolk Island’s ability to give him the opportunity. Ever the romantic, he had genuinely expected a settlement of more than 1,300 people to look exactly like a settlement of 149 people. The only cheering fact apart from his darling little A

He and Major Ross, thrown together for a number of days at least, eyed each other as warily as two dogs debating which would win a possible fight. With characteristic bluntness the Major made neither excuses nor apologies for the awful condition of the island, merely confined himself to clipped summaries of what his papers and records said at more length. What might have developed into a brawl over di

Captain William Hill of the New South Wales Corps did his level best to ruin the departing Major Ross’s reputation by having selected convicts examined on oath before the Reverend Johnson and Mr. William Balmain, surgeon, arriving to take the place of Denis Considen. Hill and Andrew Hume threw a great deal of dirt, but the Major fought back, establishing without much difficulty that the convicts were perjurious villains and Hill and Hume not far behind. The battle was bound to continue in Port Jackson, but for the time being the combatants declared a cessation in hostilities and set about packing or unpacking trunks and bags.

Richard remained carefully out of the way, very sorry that Major Ross was going, and not at all sure whether he wanted to see Lieutenant—oops, Commander—King take the Major’s place. Whatever Ross was or was not, he was first and foremost a realist.

The official changeover occurred on Sunday, the 13th of November, after the Reverend Johnson had taken divine service. The entire huge population was assembled in front of Government House and Commander King’s commission read out. Atlantic was making sail and Queen was retreating to Cascade, the two ships passing in the morning. Major Ross requested of the new Lieutenant-Governor that all the convicts in detention or under sentence of punishment be forgiven; Commander King graciously acquiesced.

“We did all save kiss,” said the Major to Richard as the big crowd dispersed. “Walk a little way with me, Morgan, but send your wife ahead with Long.”

My luck persists, thought Richard, nodding to Kitty that she and Joey should proceed without him. His transaction with Ross to secure the services of Joseph Long, a fourteen-year man, as his laborer and general hand for the sum of £10 per a

“I am glad of the opportunity to wish ye well, sir,” said Richard, dawdling. “I will miss ye greatly.”

“I ca

“I do not doubt ye, sir.”

“I see your wife is with child.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Ye’re better off out of Arthur’s Vale, but ye were wise enough to see that for yourself. There will be no trouble for ye with Mr. King, who has little choice other than to honor those transactions I have negotiated as His Majesty’s legally appointed Lieutenant-Governor. Of course your pardon ultimately rests with His Excellency, but ye’re out of your sentence in a few months anyway, and I ca

Blinking back tears, Richard gripped the hand and wrung it. “Goodbye, Major Ross. I wish ye well.”

And that, thought the desperately sorry Richard as he hurried after Kitty and Joey, is one half of the work done. I have yet to deal with the other half.

It happened as Queen discharged cargo and convicts first at Cascade and then at Sydney Bay; Richard was sawing with a new man because Billy Wigfall was going, and was too busy shouting instructions to his partner below to bother looking up. When the cut was done he noticed the figure in its Royal Navy uniform aglitter with gold braid, unwrapped the rags from around his hands and walked across to salute Commander King.

“Should the supervisor of sawyers actually saw himself?” King asked, staring at Richard’s chest and shoulders with some awe.

“I like to keep my hand in, sir, and it informs my men that I am still better at it than they are. The pits are all working well at the moment and each has a good man at the helm. This one—your third pit, sir, d’ye remember?—is where I saw myself when I do saw.”

“I swear ye’re in far finer body than ye were when I left, Morgan. I understand ye’re a free man by virtue of pardon?”

“Aye, sir.”

His mouth pursing, King tapped his fingers a little peevishly against his brilliantly white-clad thigh. “I daresay I ca

The gulf yawned, but had to be leaped. Richard set his jaw and looked straight into King’s eyes, more aware these days that he possessed a certain power. Thank you, Kitty. “I hope, sir, that ye’re not about to blame Nat Lucas.”

King jumped, looked horrified. “No, no, Morgan, of course not! Blame my own original head carpenter? Acquit me of such idiocy. No, ’tis Major Ross I blame.”

“Ye ca