River

Samuel Postlethwaite

The entire club is abuzz with the gossip. There was some kind of fracas out in front of Gregor’s house today, but nobody here was present at the time, and so all we have is speculation. I have heard that a brigand has been arrested by the militia and is in their holding cell. I have heard that another brigand was shot. I have heard that Gregor is dead. I have heard that, no, it is his wife.

Nobody has tried to come by the bank to collect on the reward money for Mason, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he was not involved. It only happened a few hours ago, so there could still be more developments.

We will find out soon enough, I know, but in the meantime we are all engaged in a very satisfying flurry of who’s dead and what ifs and what’s next.

Then the answers walk right in the door.

Here are Gregor, and Henry, and Samuel. The other Samuel. I frantically beckon them over to my table before somebody else gets the chance first. I want to be the first person to hear the tale.

“Hello, my boy!” I tell Gregor, addressing him first. “Rumor has it that you are dead. I am pleased to see that is not the case.”

He doesn’t seem as amused by this as I would have hoped. He just shrugs, and says, “I take it the gossip is flying?”

“Of course, what else do we have to do in a small town?” I smile at him, hoping to put him at ease. “I am sure that you can set everything straight. Please, tell all!”

They all have settled in at my table, and a server comes over to take orders. Henry and Samuel order meals, but Gregor orders only whiskey, saying that he wishes to return home soon to dine with his wife. So, she is not dead either, I am pleased to hear. Gregor gets a little ironic smile on his face and slightly shakes his head.

Before he starts speaking, though, he glances over at the door, as though he is expecting somebody else to arrive. I am not surprised when I see Thomas walk in as well. Good, I hope to hear the perspective of the militia on today’s events. We quickly scoot our chairs closer together so that Thomas can bring one from the next table and join us.

Gregor begins to talk, quickly, seeming quite terse. It is as though he simply wants to get this task accomplished and go home. I’m sure that is perfectly understandable, considering that he suffered some kind of alarming incident today. But I am savoring the knowledge that I am about to learn all about it.

“You all remember the story of when I came across Samuel and Henry on the Trace,” he begins, nodding at my nephew to indicate which Samuel he means.

Of course we do.

“I do not believe it was common knowledge that the chief brigand involved was Mason, the man for whom a reward is currently offered.”

Oh! That is surprising news, but as I glance around the table I see that I am apparently the last to know.

“I have learned that Mason decided to target me directly, as revenge for having foiled his robbery. He was overheard in the Kentucky Tavern a couple of nights ago making plans for this.”

He looks around at us, and takes a large swallow of his whiskey.

“He was speaking to two of my employees, David and Ben. I was aware, but I do not believe anybody else in town knew this, that they had been the other men involved in the attempted robbery on Henry and Samuel.”

This is getting more and more astonishing.

“Wait - you hired brigands?” I ask in amazement. I glance around to see the reaction of the others, and am surprised to see my namesake with a pained expression on his face. I wonder why.

Gregor sighs. “Yes, I did. I knew that they were not truly criminals. Even during the incident on the Trace, it was quite clear that they were only reluctantly participating, and it was very easy to convince them to stop what they were doing and go on their way. Mason was the only true brigand involved. David and Ben, I am absolutely certain, would never have been involved in a robbery if it wasn’t for his influence.”

“But,” I point out, “you just said that they met up with Mason the other night. Clearly they are still involved with him.”

He shakes his head. “It was a chance meeting. Mason had not been in town for months, and he came across them playing poker. He joined them, and immediately began threatening them with a knife, hidden under the table. He actually cut David several times, which has led to him developing blood poisoning. He has been very ill.”

All I can do is stare, my mouth hanging open. I glance around, and see that Henry seems equally surprised, but not Thomas or Samuel.

Who has been talking to whom around here?

“So what happened today?” I blurt out, impatient to get to the current news.

He sighs again. “Mason scared David and Ben into spying on me for him. He told them that if there was a reward for the capture of Mason and his gang, that meant that they could be captured as well for having worked for him before. He said they had to follow his instructions or he would make sure they were arrested.”

Henry looks baffled. “But if what you are saying is true, and they weren’t really involved with him, why on earth would they believe that?”

Gregor shrugs. “They were gullible. And don’t forget that Mason was tormenting David, stabbing him with his knife. They probably were just scared and not thinking clearly.”

“Well,” I ask, “did they do it?”

He nods and shrugs. “They couldn’t think of any way to get out of it. It didn’t end up mattering. The person who overheard their conversation told me about it, so I tried to prepare for Mason’s attack.”

“Who told you?” I ask.

He looks at me with a strange little smile. “I need to keep their identity secret.”

Hmph.

“Fine,” I say. Keep your secrets. “So what did you do to prepare?”

He waves his hand over at Thomas. “I talked to him.” He stops to drink some more of his whiskey, and Thomas fills the silence.

“He explained most of this to me yesterday. Since he was under the impression that Mason was going to make his move tonight, I had lined up some members of the militia to be waiting on his street while he went to the club. We wanted to lure Mason out so that we could apprehend him.”

“Ohhhh,” I say to Gregor, “I understand now what you were doing here last night. You didn’t seem at all happy to be here. You were trying to make Mason think you’d be here every night, so that he….” I realize what I am saying. The brigand wasn’t targeting Gregor. He was targeting Rosalind.

Gregor’s jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath. “Yes.” Another swallow of whiskey. “But it didn’t work. I had also employed a young boy to keep an eye out for me, and when Mason came early to the street, long before the militia was in place, the boy rushed out of his hiding place and tried to attack him.”

“Why on earth?” I ask.

Gregor heaves another sigh. “He recognized him as having been a customer of Madam Beverly’s, who had been abusive to the ladies there.”

I see now what he is not saying. Rosalind must have been abused by Mason. That has to be what happened. I understand why he does not want to discuss this. We don’t talk about where Gregor met Rosalind. I simply nod.

Gregor goes on. “Rosalind saw the boy approach Mason, and saw Mason strike him so hard that the boy was knocked out. She grabbed my pistol from my study, went out to confront Mason, and shot him. He had to flee with another of his accomplices.”

I have no words. This is the most astonishing tale I have ever heard.

“I had run up there,” he goes on, “having the feeling that something was wrong. Ben ran with me. I had told him that I knew what Mason had threatened him with, and he offered to help me. Then Samuel and Henry and Thomas ran up too.”

I feel that he is summarizing in a rush, and I hope someday to get a fuller version of this story. I want the gory details.

He looks at me with a slightly exasperated expression. “I went inside with Rosalind, and Samuel began tending to the unconscious boy, who Ben had been trying to help. Henry recognized Ben from the Trace incident, and told Thomas that he was one of Mason’s accomplices, so Thomas arrested him.”

“Wait, so it really is true? One brigand was shot and another arrested?”

He huffs impatiently. “One brigand was shot and an innocent man was arrested.”

He falls silent, and we all look at each other. Henry looks abashed. Samuel looks strangely unwell, sitting silently as though this story is painful for him to hear. Thomas looks resolved.

Thomas says, “I didn’t really believe Henry - sorry Henry, not to say I thought you were lying, I just thought you must be misremembering. It had been many months, after all. I only arrested Ben because he didn’t say a single thing to defend himself.”

Gregor shrugs. “I imagine that’s because Henry didn’t say anything that wasn’t technically true. But I will vouch for him. Ben is not a brigand. He is not a member of Mason’s gang. He is a decent man who was victimized by Mason, as much so as his many other victims.”

There is a moment of silence while we all absorb this information. “Well, so what now?” I ask Thomas.

He thinks. “I suppose, since the only reason Ben is being held is the accusation of one witness,” he says, looking at Henry, “if that witness withdrew the allegation we would have to release him.” He adds, “I believe Gregor. I don’t think Ben is any threat to anyone.”

Henry immediately says, “Fine. I withdraw the accusation.”

Gregor stands. “Let’s go spring him. Then I want to check on David. And then I am going home.” He looks exhausted. He asks Samuel, “Do you want to come, see to your patient?”

“Patient?” I ask.

“Samuel was treating David earlier today,” Gregor explains, making me realize all over again how much has happened without my being aware of it.

Samuel rises, slowly as though reluctant, still looking anxious and oddly upset. Strange, I don’t think he has said a single word all evening. What is wrong with him?

As Samuel and Gregor depart with Thomas, leaving my brother and I staring at each other, I glance at Samuel’s plate. It is completely untouched.