17

Sabotage Uncovered

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With an organised frenzy, everyone on deck moved at once. Captain Anderson, issuing orders as he went, strode purposefully toward the bridge to supervise the retrieval of the cable. Men ran down Oxford Street to stop the clanking machinery, others went to the tank access, while still more moved to their assigned stations in preparation for cutting and transferring the weighty length of wire to the bow. Paddy was about to go assist with the dangerous job of splicing when a shout rang out.

“Wait! Look here!” Cyrus Field, emerging from the dark recesses of the cable tank, called in a loud voice which carried over the raucous noise on deck. Everyone stopped, looking to the American for an explanation. He caught Ailish’s eye and with a nod went on. “I have solved the mystery of the cable faults!”

Ailish wondered if she’d heard correctly. Mr. Field had found the villain causing the troubles!

All around her, others were reacting the same way. His words acted like a magnet as men crowded to see what had been discovered. Finally, the truth would be known and the real saboteur unmasked!

The shouting soon brought Samuel Canning and Professor Thomson on deck. They joined the throng that had gathered to listen. Even the gong was still as the entire ship waited for the perpetrator to be named.

Mr. Field waved them all to silence. “This, gentlemen, is a day to remember. The grievous damage done to the cable has been explained. I have our culprit!” He held up a small piece of wire that looked exactly like the others that had been stabbed through the heart of the cable. “This is what caused the faults!”

He went on, silencing the murmurs. “This is a shard of the iron sheathing that is wrapped around the cable to protect it from the ravages of its ocean home. Fragments of this outer casing broke off when the cable was being stored in the tanks, and the weight of the coils, piled one on top of the other, drove the deadly sliver into the wire. I discovered several of these and know it was the cable itself that did the damage and not any man.” He glanced meaningfully at Paddy.

Paddy, standing next to Ailish, nodded. “This will lay to rest any lingering doubts about me the lads may have had.”

Ailish could practically feel him relax.

Samuel Canning, who was in charge of the cable-laying, stepped forward. “The loss of signal is not one hundred percent this time, but after discussing the situation, we have decided we still need to repair the fault to ensure the strongest signal possible. We shall continue the splicing with all haste.”

“Aye, and that means lots of hard work,” Paddy said. “I’d best get at it.” He gave her a tip of his cap and moved off.

As the crowd dispersed, Ailish could hear men saying they had known all along it wasn’t Paddy Whelan and that he was a good Irishman.

Ailish decided the hearts of men were more changeable than the winds at sea.

During Mr. Field’s revelation, Ailish had stood clutching the small bejewelled horse. She knew there was nothing she could do to aid the cable repair but stay out of the way and fetch gallons of hot coffee to the men as they laboured to fix the dead line.

Deciding she would not tempt fate or the honesty of the rest of the crew now that the news of her fabulous horse was sure to have spread, she stopped at the purser’s office to have her treasure locked up next to Paddy’s in the ship’s safe, then she went to the machinery storage hold to tell Davy what had happened.

– - • – –

Davy, sitting on his box, smiled broadly when he saw her. “Tell me all about your adventures. I’m in need of hearing something other than the clang of that accursed hammer of Charlie’s.”

Ailish settled opposite him and recounted the entire tale, from beginning to end, then retold him about the cable itself proving Paddy innocent because she liked the sound of the words as she spoke them. Innocent. Not a Fenian. They were all great words.

She could tell Davy truly enjoyed her company and her story, which she drew out with as much detail as possible. “So you see, everything is working fantastically well. My da and I will soon be owning our own fishing boat and real house in our new home in Newfoundland and Paddy will take his money to his family so they will be safe.” She stood up and stretched. “And now, I’d best be going topside to see if there’s anything I can do.”

“Don’t go yet!” Davy pleaded. “You’ve only just arrived.”

Although they both knew this to be untrue, something in his voice tugged at her. He sounded so lonely. There were five hundred men aboard and even working the dreadful hours he did, there was time to socialize; still, she remembered how she never saw him anywhere but here. A pleasant shiver danced down her spine, making it tingle. She sucked in her breath at the unexpected sensation.

She would like to have stayed, but after all that had happened on this voyage, she felt like a member of the crew and as a member of the crew, she wanted to help. Captain Anderson had been very good to her. He had not so much as given her a lecture for all her deception and she wanted to repay his loyalty in kind.

“I’ll be back later to let you know how the cable repair fares.” Her face lit up with an idea. “Maybe we can go to the mess and eat together. Surely Charlie will let you have an hour off this once. We have to celebrate how well everything turned out, not to mention my changing back into a girl, although what my da will say when he sees my hair is still uncharted waters, probably pretty choppy waters at that.”

“You won’t forget me will you, Ails?” Davy asked unexpectedly. His voice was barely more than a sigh.

“Don’t be daft!” she laughed. “How could I ever forget you?”

Davy’s spirit seemed to lift as he smiled and waved when she left.

– - • – –

It was near noon and Ailish decided lunch for all was called for. She went to the galley and Henry loaded her up with a variety of hearty fare. Her offering was so successful, she spent the next hour running back and forth, bringing food to the tireless crew.

Finally, she was ready for a bite herself, and scanned the bedlam looking for Paddy. Moving down Oxford Street, she found him on a small platform working the brake above the wheel reeling in the cable. “You better eat now, Mr. Whelan. On this ship, one never knows what calamity awaits over the next wave.”

Paddy smiled wryly. “Truer words were never spoken, O’Connor.”

Ailish was going to correct him, but then realized that she liked the name. She’d changed since coming aboard the Great Eastern. She had gained a world of confidence and knew so much more than that silly stowaway who’d boarded two weeks ago.

“O’Connor, are you listening?” Paddy teased, bringing her attention back from her woolgathering. “I was saying we’re now only 600 miles from Newfoundland and that means we’re trailing 1,186 miles of cable! A mighty weight dragging at us for sure, which is why they put me on the brake.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “It turns out, I’m the best darn brakeman aboard and we don’t want to snap our delicate thread.”

“Well, even the best darn brakeman aboard needs to eat.”

With a nod to his replacement, Paddy followed the cabin boy.

They sat near the edge of the deck, away from the noisy machinery to eat their food. The sun was warm, the ocean tranquil and if it weren’t for the current crisis, Ailish might have thought it the perfect day. They polished off their Cornish pasties, tarts and coffee then sat in companionable silence.

At that precise moment a terrific crack rang out.

Like a live thing escaping from captivity, the cable flew through the brake unchecked, then leapt out over the waiting sea and dove beneath the waves.

“Oh no!” Ailish gasped in astonishment. “It’s gone! The transatlantic cable is lost!”

Paddy sprang to his feet and ran to the bow. When he returned to Ailish, he confirmed it: the cable had disappeared below, leaving not a ripple. All the hopes and dreams of so many men were now resting three miles below them on the silty floor of the Atlantic Ocean.