Battle Fleet (2007) by Paul Dowswell Page B

faltering in her distress.
    ‘Alas, for my son, and Mr Curzon here, we appear to have left too late. I am sorry we have burdened you with our troubles.’
    These words were like a curse. Everyone moved away from the castaways as she spoke. Lizzie and Bel silently and gently laid their patients down on the deck.
    Evison spoke in a tone that invited no discussion. ‘You will return to your boat at once, all four of you. My men will tow you to the shore, and there you must seek assistance.’
    ‘But that is outrageous,’ said the man. ‘The child is especially weak. You are killing him.’
    ‘You, Mr Burnley, are trying my patience. If any of my crew or passengers contract this illness, I shall hold you responsible. Now leave my ship before I put a pistol to your head.’
    They clambered back in the boat, the woman clutching the child, the man holding on to his companion. Evison turned to the girls. ‘Miss Borrow and Miss Sparke, you will go at once to your cabin and wait there until I say. You will touch no one nor stop to speak to them. For the moment you are under quarantine.’
    They went, moving in a shocked and distraught way, and everyone hurried away from them as if they were lepers. Bel turned to me and I saw a haunted, pleading look in her eyes.
    All hands were summoned on deck. ‘Our visitors were infected with the smallpox,’ said Evison. ‘Those of you who have had this disease or who have been inoculated against it will gather on the starboard side. Thoseof you who have had neither the illness nor the inoculation will gather on the larboard side.’
    It was a tense moment. I was relieved to see that most of the crew joined Richard and me on the starboard side, including those who had helped the castaways on board. Only a handful went to larboard.
    ‘You men on the larboard side will confine yourselves to the larboard crew cabin in the bow. There’s little risk you’ll contract the disease, but I don’t want to take any chances. I shall inform you as soon as I feel it is safe for you to join the rest of the crew.’
    I said to Richard, ‘What’s going to happen to Bel and Lizzie?’
    He shook his head. Then he said, ‘They might be lucky. They might not get it. They should have been more careful.’
    ‘When did you have your inoculation?’ I asked.
    ‘I didn’t,’ said Richard. ‘I had what they call variolation. It’s like inoculation only more dangerous. It’s pretty barbaric. They blow dried smallpox scabs up your nose. They say one in fifteen die from it. But in Boston one in four die from smallpox, so it’s worth the risk.’
    Smallpox had visited my family when I was six. No sooner had the outbreak touched Wroxham than Tom and I were sent to our friends in Lowestoft. My two little brothers were too young to travel – both could barely walk and my mother was convinced she couldkeep them safe. She was wrong; they both died. My mother said their little bodies had been covered in horrible pus-filled spots. Soon after, our village parson told my parents he was to be visited by a physician called William Woodville, who would bring with him a cure. We two boys, and several others in Wroxham, were inoculated.
    The crew of the
Orion
were edgy. They began to talk about what this evil disease had done to their loved ones and friends. ‘The speckled monster,’ said William Bedlington. ‘It’s an affliction to make the devil proud. My mother caught it and the spots all joined together and her whole body were one mass of suppurating poison. She died quick but some linger for days. It’s a cruel malady.’
    Richard and I went to talk to the Captain. ‘What will happen to Miss Borrow and Miss Sparke?’ I said.
    Evison sighed. ‘We don’t know yet whether they’ll fall ill. Sometimes the smallpox carries and sometimes it doesn’t.’
    Then he shook his head. ‘Look, I’ve had several of the crew come and tell me the girls should be cast adrift in one of the boats. I know they both swim,