Page 50 of A Castaway in Cornwall
The agent had been busily employed in saving as much of the cargo as possible, and in staving off the attacks of the wreckers. The salvage bills were all honorably paid. Each wheeled cart was paid one guinea per twelve hours, the labour men 2/6 a day. It was a merry day for the men.
—JOHNBRAY,ANACCOUNTOFWRECKSONTHENORTHCOASTOFCORNWALL
Chapter 9
The next day, Jago came over to visit, bringing Alex one of Miss Chegwin’s famous pasties. He thanked the likable young man, and the two sat down to play a game of draughts.
Wenna brought them tea. She swiped the cap from Jago’s big head and gave his shaggy hair an affectionate pat. The elderly cook-housekeeper reminded him of Betty, his mother’s former maid, and Alex felt another twinge of homesickness.
The wreck agent returned while Jago was there. Mr. Hicks reported theKittiwakehad shifted in the sea. For days it had been all but submerged and unreachable, the waves breaking over her. Now that the weather had calmed, theKittiwakelay stranded on a rocky outcropping in the waters beyond Greenaway Beach.
“The cargo that washed ashore initially has already been taken by wreckers,” Hicks said with a scowl, “but now I plan tosalvage anything else that might be sold at auction to defray the owner’s losses. The customs officers will assist me. I anticipate the same wreckers and even tinners may be tempted to interfere, and we’ll be outnumbered. May have to call in the militia.”
“How can we help?” Alex asked.
“I could use some trustworthy men to assist in the salvaging efforts, if ye would be interested. Pays well.”
Hope flared. He could begin earning money toward the journey home. “Count me in. Jago?”
The young man nodded. “I will help too. As long as I can stay on dry land.”
Hicks nodded. “Plenty of work loading wagons.” He added their names to a list and told them to meet him at the beach at eight the next morning.
Shortly after the agent and Jago left, Miss Callaway came in.
“The agent was here recruiting men to help salvage the wreck,” Alex explained, “and I volunteered.”
“But with your leg and side, are you sure that is wise?”
“I may be slower than others, but I am still strong, and familiar with ships and seas. Jago is going as well.”
“Good. He’ll look out for you.”
Lips quirked, he said dryly, “Your confidence in me is staggering.”
“Forgive me. You are not long recovered.”
“I cannot lie about anymore, and I don’t like being penniless. I must find a way out of here.”
Running a finger over the mantelpiece, she said, “Have we been so inhospitable that you are eager to leave us?”
Her unhappy expression surprised him. “You know that is not the reason. You, Miss Callaway, are everything that is good and right in this world, something I’d almost forgotten existed over the last few years.”
“Because of the war, you mean?”
He hesitated. “That too.”
She looked at him, eyes wide in question, but he thought it wisest to say no more.
The following morning, Mr. Hicks along with Mr. Tresidder, the engineer, and Mr. Rawlings, the auctioneer, organized the salvage effort.
Hicks ticked off the names of the gathering volunteers, including several tinners from a local mine. “We want no trouble now, boys.”
Alexander noticed an older man with reddish-blond hair staring at him through narrowed eyes.
He turned to Jago and said under his breath, “Why is that man scowling at me?”
Jago looked over, and his usually pleasant expression hardened. “That’s Tom Parsons, the man our Laura protected you from after the wreck.”
