Morgan listened to this confession with silent, rapt attention. He allowed the silence to fill the room. Nanvers blew out a cloud of smoke that billowed around his head as he fondled the snake’s head on his cane.
“Let me be candid, Captain Morgan,” he exclaimed in a weary but autocratic tone. “You are either with us or against us.”
“That sounds more like a threat than a proposal to me.”
“Interpret it as you will, Captain. We are in the process of silencing those that can harm us. I have received word that your friend Hiram Smith has been captured. He will face the stern hand of English justice shortly, I have no doubt. Now you, Morgan! What shall we do with you? Blackwood and Stryker are due here shortly. Unlike Smith, you have a choice. I need a good captain.”
Morgan breathed in sharply. He quickly averted his gaze down to the floor to try to conceal his surprise that Nanvers had not yet heard about the shipwreck. He then smiled calmly, and looked up engagingly at the man.
“How did you meet, Blackwood, Edgars, and Stryker?”
The English lord seemed surprised at this question at first, but then responded.
“William Blackwood,” he said with a huge sigh. “He was trouble for me from the beginning, ever since he was a boy. I should tell you the story, Captain, as I know it would interest you. Blackwood is more than just an employee or business associate. He is my son. Yes, my son, an illegitimate son, but still my son. His mother was a Creole whom I had intimate relations with when I was just sixteen years old. Not black, mind you. She was a mulatto, a shapely one I might add, who worked as my mother’s house slave at the plantation in Jamaica. I gave her some money each year, of course, to keep her from telling my mother, and I also persuaded my father to free the boy. Later, when William was nearly grown, she begged me to do something with him. It was about that time that the second war with America broke out. William looked white, so I found him a position on one of the Royal Navy ships patrolling Long Island Sound as part of the blockade. That’s where he met James Stryker and Tom Edgars. They were all navy sailors.”
Morgan’s face twitched in sudden surprise. For a brief moment he was that frightened boy again hiding in the tree watching the British raiding party pull in to shore. He could see their faces. He suddenly remembered the name, Stryker. He was the one. The two men under the tree. Blackwood was there. Edgars too. They had fired on him and Abraham. They had all tried to kill them. Nanvers smiled sardonically and then continued to ramble on as Morgan’s thoughts spun.
“During the war, I was based in Bermuda as a naval supplies administrator serving under Admiral Cochrane. You see, I was the younger son and was expected to have an occupation, but then my older brother, Richard, died unexpectedly, falling off a horse while jumping over a fence. As the only remaining son, I was now in line to inherit the Wilberton fortune and the title. When my father died shortly after my brother’s fatal accident, I became the third Earl of Nanvers. Among my landholdings were the family’s remaining plantations in Jamaica. Like many of the sugar estates on the island, they were in financial trouble, and I knew I would need money to keep them going. Because of my job, I was able to acquire one of the captured American privateers, and we renamed it the Charon. You see, I have always had a passion for Greek mythology. I met my son and his two friends in Hamilton after the war ended and I persuaded them to join a slaving operation. I could see William’s two friends were looking for opportunities. We had a challenge as Mother England was strengthening her effort to stop slave trafficking, setting up a blockade. I devised a plan where Stryker stayed in the Royal Navy, rising to captain because he was ruthless and knew no fear. He was in dire need of money at the time so he was receptive to my proposal. He became the key to our success, helping us to get across with our shipments of human cargo on the speedy Charon and giving us information, which helped us elude Royal Navy ships. When the old Charon sank, we simply had another one built in Baltimore, and we gave the new ship the same name.”
Nanvers paused as he puffed vigorously on his cigar.
“So you see, all of this was done with a great deal of thought. Oh, but I am boring you, Captain. Shall I continue?”
“Please, go ahead,” Morgan replied. He had calmed down ever since he realized that Nanvers did not know about the shipwreck of the Hydra. “I would like to know when you first heard about my brother?”
Nanvers took a long drag on his cigar as he suddenly appeared more philosophical.
“When I think that all of your interest in my affairs, Morgan, began with your search for your brother . . . It is quite a coincidence, is it not? I was always touched by that story. Brother searching for brother. Just like Hiram Smith, your brother Abraham stumbled on some accounting papers he was not supposed to see. Blackwood caught him in his cabin. It was unfortunate. We couldn’t let that stand. One way or the other, he had to be eliminated. For a good while we actually thought your brother might be alive. Stryker heard tales of a blind white man who was shipwrecked years earlier on the offshore reefs of Morant to the east of Jamaica. A missionary told him about it and even had the name of our ship. The rumor was that he lived with runaway slaves up in the rugged Cockpit Country. We looked, but there were no roads, only footpaths. We couldn’t find him. We were worried that if it was Abraham, he might have gone to America. I actually sent Tom Edgars to your hometown of Lyme to inquire whether anyone had seen your brother. When we couldn’t find him, we soon concluded that the story of the blind white man was some cockeyed missionary tale.”