She was determined to laugh with him. “And, sir, did you follow her in the hope of meeting some Dutch beauty—and found me instead?” Oh dear, her response could be misinterpreted—she had not meant to be so forward: her wit had run away with her mouth. She blushed again and looked away from the gentleman. “My apologies, sir, that was unbecoming of me.”
“Not at all, ma'am—not at all.” He lent her his arm, upon which she placed her gloved hand, and they turned back to the shore. They made their way along the shorefront and past the Rogge Bay Battery, but were obliged to turn back towards the town when her guide refused to proceed past the warehouses that abutted the stone landing. She explained to Mr. Darcy the Khoikhoi footman insisted the alleys and streets beyond the Battery were not safe for gentlefolk such as they. At this point, as they crossed the entrance to Riebeek Street, they saw a harried man exit the street, shuffling forward and often glancing back over his shoulder.
“Ladrões! Oh, que tolo eu sou—Thieves! Oh, what a fool I am!”
Elizabeth stepped towards him and answered, in Portuguese, as he had spoken: “Senhor, can we assist? You appear most distressed.” The man, whom she now recognised was dressed as a Jew, turned abruptly to stare at her and Mr. Darcy.
“Jeová seja louvado—Jehovah be praised! Ma'am, there are thieves in thealleyway; they accosted me in my shop, and I was forced to flee.”
Just as the man reached them, several men dressed in slops and blue jackets, identifying them as seamen, spilled into the square. One, who wore breeches and may have been an officer or warrant, swaggered up to the group, looking towards Darcy. “Oi, we’ve no trouble with you toffs! Leave the Jew, take the woman an’ the blackie”—he spat on the ground—“and we’ll be about our business.”
Suddenly, a shrill whistle pierced the air. They all started and turned to stare at Elizabeth, who, with two fingers in her mouth, whistled loudly twice again. She blushed, the third time since meeting Mr. Darcy. “To call the cows to the dairy, sir, I learned the trick of it at a very young age.”
They heard a commotion behind them, and a half-dozen soldiers exited from the battery. They ran across the flagstones towards the two parties, who were belligerently confronting each other.
“Mr. Darcy—judge-advocate! Corporal, take these men into custody, now!”
The sailors began to protest, and their leader shouted angrily at Darcy—“Oi, we’re King’s navy. You can’t take us here ashore.”
Elizabeth had seen that smile before, in the court at St. Albans—the smile of a cat which had caught a mouse under its claw. “You are correct. I’m sure Lord Caledon would not want this affair brought before a civilian tribunal. Fortunately, my commission is also military. Corporal, take them away to the Castle; inform the Watch that they are arrested by my order.” After seeing the sailors led away under the enthusiastic eyes of their guard, Darcy turned back to the Jew: “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
The man looked towards Miss Bennet. “Pardon me, ma’am,” he said in Portuguese, “my Englishis very poor. Can you assist me?”
After a long conversation, with which Darcy was growing impatient, Elizabeth was able to explain to him the circumstances that led to the Jew’s fleeing the would-be thieves. His name was Senhor Nunes, a Sephardic Jew who traded in diamonds sourced from India and Brazil. They were mostly rough diamonds, which he sorted as to whether they would be shipped to London or to Amsterdam for cutting and cleaving, though some Brazilian stones went to India. That morning, being Saturday, Shabbat, he had sent his African guard away to visit with family, as he intended no business that day, but a late request from an officer due to sail on the evening tide had lured him to his shop in the Waterkant. Much to his regret, the request was a ruse to have him alone. The iron bars on the shop front prevented the thieves from forcing entry, which they attempted with crowbars and iron hammers. To escape, he slipped out the back door. But he was seen in the street, and the seamen gave chase, perhaps intending to force him back to his shop.
He accompanied Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth to the watch-house, where his deposition was taken. Elizabeth was intrigued by his language, which had many words she did not recognise. Senhor Nunes explained his family was descended from the Portuguese-Jewish diaspora from the 16th century. There were influences from Spanish but primarily from Hebrew, a language of which Elizabeth knew little. Once at the watch-house, Elizabeth decided to return to the house of Meneer Brand.
“You have a lovely wife, Mr. Darcy,” Senhor Nunes said after Miss Bennet had wished him well and departed with the Khoikhoi guide. Darcy decided not to disabuse him of his mistake—perhaps his walking with Miss Bennet, her hand on his arm, had been misinterpreted. Though they strolled together, they were accompanied by a servant. He would nottarnish the reputation of the lady by acknowledging they were unmarried and would therefore likely become the focus of gossip—particularly after his defence of her at the ball. Again, honesty would be by no means the best policy.
Chapter 11
Indian Ocean, October 12, 1809
Some three days before they were due to sail from the Cape, Mr. Bent announced he wished to travel with Colonel Macquarie on the final leg of their journey to Sydney. He stated he had neglected his duty; he was to advise the colonel, once commissioned as governor, on how British law should be applied in the colony and, in particular, how to apply the law to those soldiers and settlers who sided with the rebels. Since the governor’s party was now increased by the addition of Captain Antill, Macquarie’s aide-de-camp, a rearrangement of the berths was necessary.
The solution to this dilemma both astonished and vexed Elizabeth, but she had, of course, not been consulted as to the new arrangements. Mr. and Mrs. Bent were to transfer to theDromedary, taking with them the maid, Hannah, and such other servants as they required. Mr. Darcy, Colonel O’Donnell, and his secretary, Ensign Huey, were to travel on theHindostan. And the children? Since leaving England, they had been almost exclusively in the company of Elizabeth, and from Rio, they had scarcely seen their parents due to the latter being indisposed for the greater part of the journey. So, they would remain on theHindostanwith Elizabeth as their nurse and carer. Henry and Beth had become accustomed to amusement with little William, Captain Pasco’s son, and Henry was adamant he wished to remain with his playmate of some five months’ duration; naturally, Beth would stay with her brother.
That parents could countenance separation from their small children for two months—the time allowed for the forthcoming journey—was viewed byElizabeth with bewilderment. She knew Mr. Bent doted on Henry and assumed Mrs. Bent would be equally partial to Beth. She supposed her custody of the children was a compliment of sorts to herself, that they trustedherwith their most precious possessions, though she could not condone such abandonment of the children. They were now hers alone to cherish, love, and succour on theHindostanwhilst their parents were off on theDromedary.
On the evening of the 12th of October, Elizabeth took her leave of Meneer and Mevrouw Brand; she thanked them profusely for their kindness in accommodating her and the children. Thus, she took the captain’s barge, to which she was now well accustomed, out into the bay with Henry and little Beth safely wrapped in her arms. Once on board the vessel, having placed her charges securely with Mrs. Pasco, who welcomed them back on board, she sought Captain Pasco.
“Sir, I seek your indulgence, if I may.”
“Certainly, Miss Bennet. We’re not underway till the morn, so I am almost at my leisure.”
“Mrs. Bent has seen fit to take Hannah with her to theDromedary; thus, the two small children, Henry and Beth, are in my sole care. Would it be possible and appropriate for me to choose a maid to assist me from among the soldiers’ wives? I know many who are very trustworthy. The person would sleep in my cabin, as did Hannah, and be available to care for the children and your William, if required, when I’m occupied elsewhere.”
The captain knew Miss Bennet intended to take up her care of the enceinte wives and those other unfortunates who required her ministry. “Do you have anyone in mind, Miss Bennet? I will need to approve their moving to the quarterdeck cabin.”
“Indeed, sir. I would take Harshita. She has a small infant in her care, he having been born shortly before our arrival atMadeira, but he is a quiet infant who would not disturb the other passengers. I trust her implicitly; she has been under my protection since the birth and will carry out her duties with care and good humour.”
Captain Pasco considered the request. Harshita, the wife of Sgt. Monogan, was Indian, but she had gained respect from the other regimental wives following the birth of her child and her association with Miss Bennet. He would consult his wife, and if she had no objections, then he would approve of it.
***
From: Hindostan, Indian Ocean
Dearest Sister, Mary—
