SHORTLAND (his tone is brusque, urgent, almost panicky): Mr Crafus, good day. You should know the recruiters are back; two of them are waiting in the barracks. They want to make a sweep of the blocks. They say it’s overdue, anyway, but they’ve heard of your Mr Hill and want to see him. I have my … reservations. What say you?
KING DICK (exhausted, though Shortland hasn’t noticed): Reservations? You got reservations? Ain’t it jus’ a little late for that?
SHORTLAND (waits for Dick to say more then realizes he’s finished): I’m concerned that the men in the blocks would react … badly. Aggressively.
KING DICK (stares at Shortland; he hasn’t been offered a seat but takes one anyway): Why have you asked me here, Captain? What do you want? What could you possibly want from a prisoner like me?
SHORTLAND (taking notice now): Why, answers to questions, of course, Mr Crafus. I thought … I thought you’d have a view on the matter …
KING DICK: On what would happen if your recruiters tried to do their recruitin’? If your recruiters, with all their uniforms, their bulgin’ stomachs and their fulsome lies, went from block to block to say, ‘Join the Navy! Fight for the King!’? Sure, I got an opinion. (The King closes his eyes briefly; Shortland waits.) Ever seen a lynchin’, Captain? ’Cos I have. Your men’d make it far as Block One, where those who can still see an’ those who can still move’d get a rope round their necks and be swingin’ from the kitchen rafters before they can say ‘God Save the King!’. Might even cut off their balls, if they feel like it. Which, seein’ as they’ve survived war, smallpox and your barbarous prison, they probably would. That is my view.
SHORTLAND (visibly shocked): Even if the recruiters have a troop with them?
KING DICK: Especially if they have a troop with ’em.
SHORTLAND (after a long silence): So what do I tell them? That I am no longer in control of my own prison?
KING DICK: That’s for you to decide. Men are sometimes master of their own fates. You have stopped the men’s wages. The war is over, but we’re still prisoners. There’s a price to be paid, Captain Shortland. And none of us can be certain who’ll be payin’ it.
SHORTLAND (incredulous): Are you saying your position in Four is threatened? Surely that cannot be right?
KING DICK: O’ course it is threatened! Everythin’ is threatened. You gotta bring back the wages, increase the bread ration, do somethin’ to slow this all down.
SHORTLAND: They are orders from the Transport Office. My hands are tied.
KING DICK (aside): Well, that’s how a lynchin’ starts …
SHORTLAND (has an idea): And what of your play, Mr Crafus? How close are you to being able to perform it?
KING DICK: The play? A few days, maybe.
SHORTLAND: Soon, I have to leave on prison business to Plymouth and London. I will argue your case, believe me, and on my return, Elizabeth and I will come and watch the show. How’s that?
KING DICK (astonished): You wanna visit the cockloft? With Mrs Shortland?
SHORTLAND: It’ll hold the prison together, Mr Crafus. Invite some of the other blocks. I’m ‘slowing this thing down’, as you asked. I can’t guarantee more bread and wages, but a Dartmoor Romeo and Juliet will be quite a distraction. I will not be away long. So shall we say the sixth?
KING DICK: Assumin’ your prison is still standin’.
SHORTLAND: And now, Mr Crafus, I believe you are being overly dramatic. I look forward to seeing your show on the sixth. Elizabeth will be thrilled.
KING DICK (leaving): I jus’ thought of a job for your recruiters.
SHORTLAND: You have?
KING DICK: I have. They can visit Block Seven. Find John Matthews and Robert Drake. They from Detroit.
SHORTLAND (disbelieving): Might they want to serve in the Royal Navy?
KING DICK: They might. Mr Cobb and Mr Lane outta Six tell me they’re the men who killed Ned Penny.
SHORTLAND (astonished): Really? And why would they tell you that?
KING DICK (shrugs): Maybe their natural sense o’ justice. Maybe they settlin’ scores. More likely hidin’ their own involvement. Either way, Matthews and Drake are in trouble. If it’s a choice between a hangin’ or your Navy, they might jus’ be tempted.