Death and Damnation: Book 2 of Poacher's Progress
Chapter 18: The Unhappy Return

Copyright© 2013 by Jack Green

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 18: The Unhappy Return - This book follows on from Duel and Duality, and how Jack survived the duel is revealed. His life then becomes a series of surprising encounters and episodes. He meets some old friends and makes new ones, including females. He rubs shoulders with writers and meets a military genius. He revisits Waterloo, learns of the aphrodisiacal properties of cheese, and ploughs furrows- and madges. He avoids being fatally seduced, kills several more men, goes on a voyage, and he falls in love, again.

Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Historical   Tear Jerker   Oral Sex   Violence  

I arrived at the prison to collect Eloise de La Zouche early the next morning. Captain Ramsey wanted her aboard, and her dunnage stowed, by 8 am, although we were not due to sail until the afternoon.

The prison governor greeted me with the news that she had escaped. He took me to her cell; the door hung open, and on the floor lay the body of the bearded turnkey, his trousers around his ankles and his throat cut.

"He was discovered when the morning shift came on duty at five. The surgeon says he had been dead for three or four hours."

I looked at the dead turnkey, and knew that it would have been me lying there, if I had gone into Eloise's embrace. I shivered, as if a goose had walked over my grave.

The governor looked sadly down at the body. "I advised him to concentrate on his cricket, rather than on copulation, but unfortunately Kev Pieterson kept his brains in his drawers."

"Eloise de La Zouche may seek refuge amongst the French community of the town. Should you not first look there?"

"French Huguenots arrived at the Cape soon after the Dutch settled the area, over time they have become more Afrikaaner than French. There is now only a small trading fraternity of Frenchies, who live near the harbour. My men are searching that area at the moment. A lone white woman will not get far without being noticed, we shall soon have the murdering bitch back in custody."

"Hazard leaves this afternoon -- oh, but she has now committed a murder in the jurisdiction of My Lord the Chief Justice, he will now be able to try her in Cape Town."

I returned to to Hazard and informed Ramsey that we would not now be having the pleasure of Eloise de La Zouche's company.

"Damn and blast! The carpenter's mate has only just finished making her a bunk, and extra shelving."

"Well I'm sure Hunter and I will be grateful for the new facilities."

He gave me an irate look, so I thought it best to remove myself.

"I will tell Sparrow not to send her dunnage over; without all her clothes on board at least we will have more stowage space below."

Ramsey managed a slight smile. "Well, that's true enough."

Sparrow was on deck of Western Star, watching as the sail maker and his mates repaired the split mainmast sail.

"Your former bed partner has murdered another man, and is now on the run. I told you that I had probably saved your life."

He looked at me in surprise. "What, Eloise? I can't believe that she is a murderess."

"Nor, I suspect, could those other poor devils whose throats she has slit. Anyway, what shall you do now? There's not much of your cargo left to transport, except for those Frenchies purporting to be members of the British Army—if the authorities get wind of them they will probably be arrested, and your vessel impounded."

"I was contracted to take them to Pondicherry, and to Pondicherry I shall take them, unless you aim to inform on me and have me arrested?"

"The thought had occurred to me, but I'm not as bad a person as you may think me. I would imagine those grognards have no wish to continue to Pondicherry without their leader. I see your vessel is registered in New Orleans, which I know was settled by the French, before Louisiana was sold to you Americans. What's left of your cargo would probably vote to be transported there."

I left him thinking that over, and returned to Hazard.


The voyage back to St Helena took nearly three weeks, and was uneventful, if you would call the sight of the former Emperor of France, closely guarded by a marine with a musket and fixed bayonet, pacing up and down the quarter deck of a British sloop of war, uneventful.

As you can imagine Sir Hudson Lowe was overjoyed to have his prisoner returned. His thanks were effusive, and I dare say, to express his gratitude, he would have been only too pleased for me to gallop his wife, had I asked.

He invited me into his private sitting room at the Governor's Residence, and poured me a glass of brandy.

"Well, here's to your very good health, Major Greenaway–I can't tell you how grateful I am that you have recovered Bonaparte." He gave a slight cough. "Is it necessary that my–umm–error will be broadcast to the government? I am in bad odour with Lord Liverpool as it is, and he may well retire me from this post should he learn of the escape, and then I would be turned out to grass."

"I shall have to make out a report for Brigadier Stanhope, but I doubt if H.M's Government would want it known that we let Bonaparte slip from our hands, if only for six weeks. Nor would our allies be too impressed, especially those who have Commissioners on the island. I would hazard a guess that Brigadier Stanhope will take all that into account, and is likely to take the pragmatic view that what the government don't know the government won't grieve over."

Sir Hudson smiled in appreciation.

"What about the three foreign Commissioners on the island?" I asked."They will be aware of Bonaparte's absence."

"None of them will have even been aware that he was missing. They seldom seek an audience with him, and only observe him on his walks from time to time. I took a leaf from your book, and had a man, dressed like Bonaparte, take his accustomed walk each day."

I was still concerned that Bonaparte's brief period of freedom might become known. "Members of his personal staff would have known that Boney had disappeared. They might write to their friends in Europe, and the truth will out."

Sir Hudson leaned back in his chair, his face, always flinty and stern, took on an angry scowl.

"From the first day of my arrival on St Helena that bastard Bonaparte mocked and taunted me, regarding my surrender of Capri. He declared that he could have held the island against twice the force that prevailed against me."

He thrust out his chin aggresively. "Marshall Murat knew that I had fought as well as anyone could have expected. He granted me and my troops the Honours of War, and we marched off Capri with bayonets fixed and colours flying, and our heads held high."

Sir Hudson's habitually severe and granite-like visage then split into a huge grin, quite unlike anything I'd seen on his face before.

"I have now taken my revenge on Bonaparte, for all of his sneers at my military prowess. I dropped hints here, and 'accidentally' let slip information there; surreptitiously, and by innuendo, I've convinced Bonaparte's closet associates that he was taken in secret to Cape Town to be treated for the pox! That should keep his people from asking too many questions, and keep the knowledge of his absence out of their memoirs. No one will believe Boney if he ever tries to recount what really happened, as people will think it a made up tale, to cover his embarrassment and shame."

He threw back his head and bellowed with laughter, at how he had discomfited his enemy, and I could only applaud his duplicity and cunning. He took another drink from his tumbler of brandy, and then his face clouded, as another thought suddenly occurred to him. "Could the knowledge of Bonaparte's escape be revealed, by members of the crews, and passengers, of Hazard and Western Star?"

"Well, I'm sure Ramsey will his crew keep tight-lipped, and only a few actually saw Bonaparte on board. As for Western Star - I would think that Captain Sparrow will say nothing. He prides himself on delivering his cargo, whatever happens, and to admit to have cravenly handed over Bonaparte to a limey would damn his reputation for ever. Similarly, those former members of the Imperial Guard are not going to let it be known that they didn't lift a finger to save their 'Emperor' from being recaptured. As for the common seamen, well, who in their right mind believes sailors' tales? Figments of their imaginations, and too much rum! I would wager that nothing of Bonaparte's short spell of freedom will ever appear in print."

Sir Hudson gave a great sigh of relief. "Then all's well as ends well."

I congratulated myself on a job well done, the only fly in the ointment being that both de La Zouches had evaded capture, although I would imagine Eloise would have soon been returned to custody, and with any luck she may even now be dancing at the end of a rope.

I was looking forward to a swift passage home, and then making that long overdue visit to Annette, but once again my plans were thrown into disarray.

By an unfortunate turn of events Hazard had arrived in Cape Town without a cooper on board. Ships of the Hazard class carried an establishment of two coopers; a Master and a mate. However, the Master cooper, Mr Eastham, had been struck down by the Flux, and was sent ashore to the Infirmary on the same day as I had joined Hazard in Portsmouth, and there had been no time for Captain Ramsey to obtain a replacement before we set sail. The mate, Flowers, was a capable enough young fellow, who had coped, and cooped, competently with the repair and upkeep of the barrels during the journey to St Helena.

Unfortunately Flowers was - 'hoist by his own petard' - as the ship's wit, Surgeon Shepardson, had put it, when he was injured by a barrel that had rolled, and crushed his leg, during the loading of water barrels, soon after our arrival in Jamestown. Once again we had to put to sea before a replacement could be found. These two, unconnected, incidents led to unexpected consequences, for the crew of Hazard generally, and for me in particular.

The short time the ship had spent in Cape Town had allowed the purser, Mr Callaghan, the opportunity to purchase some fresh meat. The price of sheep, goats, cattle and pigs on St Helena was astronomical, owing to the scarcity of stock, and two thousand extra, hungry, mouths belonging to those sent to guard Bonaparte, being added to the local population. The purser had obtained three sheep and a bullock in Cape Town, which meant that at least the officers and warrant officers would have fresh meat for several weeks. He had also bought fresh vegetables and fruit, with fresh baked bread as a special luxury, for the crew.

There is always a negative aspect to any situation, and unfortunately Mr Callaghan had succumbed to the two vices of sailors—drink and women—when he was celebrating his business coup with the traders. Several water barrels had been dislodged and damaged, during the gale that had swept us to the east of St Helena. In the absence of a cooper the purser' mate, Springett, a dim-witted fellow, was given the task of buying new barrels, and then having them filled with water.

 
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