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Chapter 8

Inferno

When Kydd entered Stirk gave a cheery hail. ‘What ho, Tom, mate! Bring y’r arse to anchor wi’ us.’ Whatever had passed up there on the heights seemed to have done him a power of good. ‘What’ll ye have?’

Kydd gave a wry smile. ‘The usual, Toby.’

Stirk turned and bellowed, ‘A jorum of y’r finest ale – with th’ splicin’s!’

After it had arrived, Stirk beckoned him closer. ‘I’ve a favour t’ beg of ye, Tom. See, Laddie here’s found somethin’ and he’s vexed t’ know what it is.’

‘Oh?’

‘He wants it to be like, confidential, no bugger t’ know he has it or they’ll be after him. So ye’ll keep it to y’rself?’

‘If that’s what he’s asking.’ Kydd glanced at McFadden curiously.

‘Right. Here it is.’ Stirk pushed out a fist, leaving the coin gleaming on the rough table.

Kydd shielded his hand as he palmed it up, looked at it closely, then passed it back.

‘Well?’ Stirk demanded, with a frown.

‘Laddie, where did you get this?’

‘Never mind. What is it, f ’r God’s sake?’

‘No question. This is a gold doubloon, dates back a ways, time of Good Queen Bess, I shouldn’t wonder.’

‘Spanish Armada, like.’

‘You could say that, yes.’

Stirk and McFadden exchanged triumphant glances. ‘Well, that’s right good in ye t’ tip us the wink. We’s obliged.’

Kydd’s face tightened in suspicion. ‘You’ve found this, haven’t you? Came up in your fishing gear. A wreck or similar.’

‘Told ye he was a sharp ’un,’ Stirk muttered.

‘Your duty’s clear – it’s to report to the Receiver of Wreck directly, no delay. Else you’ll have every kind of juggins up to hookum snivey to plunder it.’

‘I never said it come from a piggin’ wreck, did I?’ McFadden retorted hotly. ‘’S mine, an’ that’s the truth!’

‘Stow it, Laddie. It came from y’r poor ole aunt as died, didn’t it? No need t’ trouble that Receiver gullion then.’


Chapter 7 | Inferno | Chapter 9