Chapter 43

“You’ve had quite the adventure, young man,” McGillivray says when I’m summoned to his office the following morning. “Simon seems to think you saved his life and, indeed, the very expedition. He calls you a hero for taking care of that traitor, La Malice.”

I blush. “I wouldn’t say that, Sir.”

“Well Fraser does, so I do as well. Simon also says you’ve some pressing business to attend to in England, but he doesn’t go into detail. What’s that all about?” McGillivray asks.

“My sister, Sir,” I say with surprise. “We were separated in Liverpool. She didn’t make the ship. I want very much to go back and find her.”

“Ah yes,” he replies. “She was mentioned on that poster as well, wasn’t she? I’m sorry I used your misfortune against you, young man, but I’m sure you can understand now the importance of the message. I needed someone I could trust to deliver it and that was you.”

McGillivray reaches into a desk drawer and removes my wanted poster, now yellowing with age. He stands up, walks to the fireplace in the corner of the room and tosses the paper into the flames. I watch silently as it catches fire and is quickly consumed.

“And now you need to go home. I understand completely. I would love for you to stay on with us, but you’ve certainly earned a break from the wilds. Go back to England with my blessing. No doubt it’s safe for you now, but would you mind doing one last job for me before you go? There’s another message I need delivered.”

I shudder at the request. The last letter I carried for William McGillivray took two years of my life to deliver.

“Anything, Mr. McGillivray. The Company’s been very guid to me,” I say, trying to keep my composure.

McGillivray hands me a letter sealed with a red wax stamp. “Don’t worry,” he smiles. “You’re not going back to the Pacific. I need to send word to the Colonial Office in London. There’s more at stake in New Caledonia than just our business. The Empire has a vested interest in the territory, and the proper authorities will need to know about Fraser’s journey and our mistake about the Columbia. Can you do this?”

“Aye!” I reply gladly. This is one letter I won’t mind at all delivering.

McGillivray reaches into his desk drawer and withdraws a handful of silver coins. “There’s also the matter of your pay. I’ve taken the liberty of obtaining the money you gave Henry for safe keeping before you headed west. I’ve also given you your wages — plus a little bonus for courage and exceptional service to the Company.”

I can scarcely believe the small fortune on the desk belongs to me. “Thank ye, Sir,” I say gratefully. The money is certainly more than enough to get me home.

McGillivray gives me an additional large gold coin and a folded piece of paper. “The paper identifies you as a North West Company messenger, named McTavish,” McGillivray says. “Just in case anyone is still looking for Duncan Scott. The gold is for your fare to England. Costs have gone up since you’ve been out west.”

“Ye’re going to pay my passage to England?” The day is getting better and better.

“You’re my envoy, lad!” smiles McGillivray. “Besides, with the war in Europe, passage on commercial ships has become almost impossible to find. What few berths there are would cost more than you have.”

“What war?” I ask. “With who?”

“The French of course,” he says. “Who else?”

It’s a good point. England has been at war with the French since I was a small child. “So how am I to travel then?”

“A cargo ship under contract with the Navy leaves for Liverpool tomorrow. I’ve made arrangements with her captain. Technically, you’re no longer a civilian. You are a representative of the Crown, travelling on a diplomatic mission. Be there at first light, the ship sails at dawn.”

I’m overwhelmed at the news. “Thank ye, Sir, I promise I won’t let ye down.”

“You told me that when I first hired you,” McGillivray says. “I believed it then, and I believe it now. Go to the Colonial Office in London. Tell them that you’re an emissary from Montreal and that you carry confidential news critical to the Empire. It’s to be given by you personally to the secretary of state for the colonies. No one else is to have it.”

McGillivray shakes my hand warmly. “Good luck, Duncan Scott, and safe travelling. Should you ever return to Montreal there will always be a position waiting for you. After all — once a Nor’Wester always a Nor’Wester!”