Original subtitles

Lower the longboat, Mr. Bates.

Lower the longboat!

It reminds me of the firehouse in one of Albert's steamships.

I've often thought fancy a sailor sweating all day down below without even

of the sea, shoveling coal into a furnace.

Fancy a sailor? Fancy me?

Yes, it's wicked.

My brother a shipowner and his wife living in a basement.

Every penny James earns is to buy more shares in the company.

Let me help you. Oh, you're silly, you frock. Look, you'll do yourself an

injury. You can't even lift that. Oh, indeed I can.

worth much without the cargo.

Cargo's worth nothing at all.

Salt and sugar in those bags now.

Caught in a right squall by the look of her.

Didn't even have time to reef the sails.

But gumption to try.

No one abandons ship unless they have to, sir.

Come on, put your backs into it, heave!

Got a cargo of our own to get home.

Won't stand the keeping too long, neither.

Extra dirt, see, won't harm even our cargo pineapples.

Should be some good salvage money in this, eh?

It's that smoky old range in there.

Oh, James will have something to answer for when he gets back. It's just a

queasiness that packed it soon enough.

How's young William?

Wanting his dinner, I should think. I must go.

The maid has no way with a child at all.

You know, James could afford a maid to help you.

Servant? You'll be wishing a carriage on us next.

Well, at least he could afford a decent house.

There's a very passable property, you know, in Trinity Road. It'll all come

enough once James has control of your needing line again.

And when will that be?

It's like Albert thinks it. Men, heads in the clouds.

So long as we've got our feet on the ground, there's no harm in that.

Well, at least mine aren't stuck in a basement.

Look, go and give young William his dinner.

You'll be all right. I am all right.

It's just a touch of sickness that comes over me at times.

Sickness? Well, haven't you ever... Oh, no.

No, it couldn't be that.

This is coming up nicely, Mr. Baines.

Right.

Shift the rest over to starboard.

That's it.

All right, now, come on, shift the rest of it over to starboard.

I'll take it there's a set of spare sails aboard.

I've never known a ship put to sea so well equipped as this one, sir.

Well, we'll use what we can from our own sail locker.

We'll take her in tow.

Oh, Elizabeth.

Could it really be?

Well, you've waited long enough.

James would be so pleased.

Well, as long as he shows he is.

But this is no place to have a baby. He'll have to put his hand in his pocket

for you now, Anne. Who?

Will he really be pleased?

Of course he will.

An heir to the only, didn't I?

And this rape will not make Liverpool by the end of the month, sir.

You'd like us to cut it.

Wouldn't you, Mr. Bales?

Well, her crew didn't think her worth saving, sir.

I think she's a fine ship.

And in my opinion, a fast one.

Salvage awards should be worth a tidy sum.

I can't agree, sir.

It's not worth the risk we're taking on our cargo of pineapple.

It could be rotting below within the week.

Ireland?

Delayed Ross Carberry sailing tomorrow.

James, was ever a man of few words?

Especially when words cost money.

To put him to Ireland?

It must have been serious for James to delay and risk his pineapple cargo.

The ship must have been very badly battered.

Well, it's seaworthy now or he'd not be sailing tomorrow.

Yes, but in what condition?

The Charlotte Rose is not the ship that she was and the Irish Sea can be

fearsome. Oh, I can't bear it when they sail without me.

The worst they can endure at sea is nothing beside the fancies that haunt me

home. Anne.

I was expecting him home today.

What on earth's the matter with you?

I'm sorry, Robert. I just keep bursting into tears for no reason at all.

You're surprised?

You haven't to me often enough.

What happened?

Thank you for bringing the telegram, Robert. I'm sure you've business to

to.

Listen. What are you doing here?

I'm just... calling.

In an apron?

I'm giving Anne a hand in the kitchen.

You giving someone a hand?

I've never known you put yourself out for anybody.

Give my love to Sarah.

Listen, if there's anything wrong with her in there, we ought to get a doctor.

We don't need a doctor yet. Yet?

You mean she's... Anne!

Anne! No!

Anne! Why ever didn't you tell me?

I wanted James to be the first to know, Robert. But I think it's wonderful news,

after all. All this time.

You just wait till I tell Sarah.

Oh, Robert, no. Don't worry. She won't breathe a word to anyone, I promise you.

It'll be all over Liverpool by nightfall. Does it really matter? Not if

were here.

You'll have to get used to being on your own from now on, you know.

There'll be no more voyages with James when the baby's born.

Why ever not?

Babies just give them an excuse.

For what?

To go off, fancy free.

Oh, just because Albert's away.

Well, as long as James gets you out of this place, that's something.

But you'll have to insist.

I think not.

James himself will insist.

James, a father!

What do you say about that, then?

I was beginning to wonder.

Wonder what?

Oh, you know our James.

All that energy and not even a child to show for it.

I mean, the rest of us have managed it, haven't we?

Oh, Robert, really?

It'll be the making of James, you mark my word, having a family.

There's nothing like fatherhood. It's to give a man a proper sense of

responsibility.

You don't seem best pleased with the news.

Should I be?

Another James and Eden on the way.

Oh, I bet it is a sobering thought.

And a worrying one.

Worrying?

I don't know what you mean.

Oh, you never can see beyond the end of your own nose, can you?

If James has a son, the and Eden line will go to him and not to our little

Samuel.

I do have 1 ,500 shares of my own in the company.

Well, you'll need a sight more than that if there's to be anything worth having

for our little Samuel.

Robert.

You must buy more in Eden Line shares.

Get these hatch covers off.

Read the discharge.

dockies. We've got a cargo aboard that won't stay a moment longer.

Mr. Baines, what kept you?

We took a derelict in tow. Cost us a week old tow.

Captain O 'Neill even thought it was worth it. I can't understand it.

Normally I value his judgment.

Get on with it there.

This derelict, what's her name?

The Dago Schooner, the Marie and the Glory.

Portuguese or Brazilian, anyway. We put what sale we could on her and took her

in tow. But the wind changed to the east, so we could make no headway.

So we dropped her off at Ross Carpenter.

A good prize, is she?

Well, Baines doesn't think so, but he's wrong. That schooner's worth a lot to

her owner, so the salvage award should be a good one, eh?

James. And the money will go towards buying more shares in the steamship

company. Yes, James. Bring us that much nearer to getting control of the Oneida

line again, eh? James. Of course, I do regret the delay. I'm having a baby.

Then on the other hand...

What did you say?

I'm with child.

Why didn't you say so?

I've been trying to, but you didn't give me room to get a word in edgeways.

You sure?

It wasn't at first. I couldn't believe it.

But I'm sure now.

James, is it good news?

It's wonderful news.

Most wonderful news I've ever heard in all my life. What's that, then?

Here, Robert.

I'm going to be a father.

Oh, yes, that.

Anne told me.

It is certainly most wonderful news.

You want it to be?

January or February, maybe.

Yes.

Here, this calls for a toast.

Sarah, I'm going to be a father.

I know, Robert told me. Oh, I am pleased for you.

Robert, go and get Baines. I want everybody to drink to the area of the

line. Mr Baines is chasing up the doggers to unload your cargo of

Oh, well, better not interrupt that then. No, he can drink his later then.

You'll need a decent home now you're starting a family.

Oh, my son will lack for nothing.

I believe it's a girl.

Oh, no.

It'll be a boy.

Well?

Here's to James II and to the company that'll want a beer.

There's a very nice house in Trinity Road for sale.

Of course, it will have to be furnished, and with a baby to bring up, Anne will

need servants.

I'm well aware of Anne's needs.

One would hardly think so from a glance around this place. Elizabeth, how

trouble you to leave me to mind my own affairs, will you? If Anne has to have

her baby here... James has already put aside money for a house, Elizabeth.

The cargo of pineapple made a handsome profit.

I thought a lot of it went bad.

Only 50 pounds worth.

We'll make 500 pounds profit on the rest, and with what we'll get from

the Maria de Gloria, Anne will lack for none of the comforts that you so kindly

wish on her.

Oh, dear.

No, no, Anne.

Elizabeth will attend to it. She is just leaving.

James? Who's there?

Brother Robert. What on earth does he want now?

Goodbye, Anne. Goodbye, Elizabeth.

Give my regards to Albert when I see him.

Your father will be here next.

You'll be happy to toast our thumbs out. Not now until Christmas.

James.

That chick you told me, she's up for auction.

What? The Maria de Gloria.

It's in the shipping gazette, look.

To be sold at public auction at the Wexford Arms, Ross Carberry, where you

it. A month's time.

Barely time for anyone to go and have a look at it, much less decide if he's a

use for it.

Well, she'll not fetch more than three or four hundred. Oh, and this must have

lost his wits.

The owner abandoned interest in it when it was lost four months ago.

It belongs to the insurers now.

And they seem to want it off their hands just as soon as they can.

Don't they know a fast ship when they see one? Oh, don't fret, James. It's

loss. Oh, it does.

Indeed it is.

The salvage court will allow only one third of the value.

So whatever it fetches at public auction, even in Ireland, will be deemed

value. Oh, it is. It's really worth so much more.

Oh, well.

Oh, well.

Yes. Only James thinks that.

Maria de Gloria. You know, so far I've not met anybody who's ever heard of her.

Nor have I.

It seems she'd never been seen in English waters.

And according to the shipping movement lists, well, there's no mention of her

there anywhere.

Something odd about that ship.

I'm going to get to the bottom of it.

Robert, we'll go over tonight.

On a steam packet, eh? To Ireland? Ah, we could be in Rockaberry the day after

tomorrow. Oh, cut your losses, James.

You'll be all right, eh, if Robert and myself go over to Ireland?

Oh, indeed I will.

I'm coming with you.

Anne, a woman in your condition doesn't travel over the Irish Sea in a steam

packet. The Irish Sea's a sight less dangerous than climbing old stairs every

time I want to go out or looking close from the cellar for that abominable

stove. You never made complaint before.

I've never been with child before.

Where's Robert?

Got no stomach for the sea at all.

Poor Robert.

You and I are used to it.

Just heard he was handling the sale of the schooner to Mr. Sank. A sharp

customer.

That's all.

Here. How much longer must we endure this bouncing tin kettle?

Long enough for you to acquire your sea leg.

I've just lost my balance.

You're there.

I'm not feeling too well.

You'll never cease it.

A baby.

You should have stayed at home.

I told you.

I'm all right. Really, I am.

There's a lovely line on the water.

A lot of damage.

There's work for a competent ship's carpenter.

Come on.

Let's have a word with Mr Sankey.

Sankey?

Who are you?

My name's O 'Neill.

It was I that saw Mr Maria de Gloria.

I'm aware of that.

Though I fear there won't be much in it for you, Mr O 'Neill. Oh, indeed.

Well, now, this is my wife, Anne, and my brother, Robert.

Shall I save it?

Looks a good ship to me, eh?

She has a bad record.

We haven't seen any records at all.

What's she been used for?

Oh, I'm just the insurer's agent.

My instructions are to arrange a quick sale and dispose of her.

Why did the owners abandon her, eh? They couldn't even ride out a gale.

Bad seamanship.

Perhaps. Some Dago crew from Brazil, eh?

Oh, I know nothing of the crew, except that they were all picked up and taken

home to Rio.

Mr Zanke, what do you think she'll fetch, sir?

My principals would be very happy to receive 500 pounds.

Eh?

I did warn you there was little for you in it as salver.

I reckon she's worth four times that amount.

But how can you be for sure, James?

She doesn't look worth 500 to me.

Faith of facts, man.

You were wrong to price her so highly.

I think not, Robert.

It's a matter of simple shopkeeping. I'm sure it is to you.

Look, if I price a candle at one penny, then a penny is what it's worth.

Otherwise I'd charge more.

Mr. Sankey doesn't even want to get more than 500 pounds for her. No one will

bid more anyway.

Right. He's got some interest in this, I swear it.

I'll make it a solace. Like that.

Here.

This crowd.

James.

Yes. 50 pounds worth of pineapple rotted on the Charlotte roads because of the

delay. Can you honestly say you're not trying to justify that?

You saw her, Timbers.

Not more than two years old. Lovely lines you said. But, James, you've said

yourself you've no way of telling how fast a ship is until you take her to

Ah, well, this time it's different.

I just know she's a fast ship.

Oh, it's late. Come to bed.

I mean, why would they want to get rid of her so quickly?

For such a measly sum?

There's more to life than ships.

I wanted you to stay at home, but no, you would come over here making yourself

iller now that you are here. Oh, I'm sorry, I was foolish.

It's Elizabeth.

She thinks Albert neglects her.

Neglects her?

Fine house, carriages, servants. Everything she needs, though. He's no

feel guilty about not being there himself.

She thinks you'd be the same.

For a moment, when you wanted me to stay behind... Oh, admit, I was foolish,

James.

James, where are you going?

Good day.

Mr. O 'Neill.

Mr. Sankey.

I'm just looking around, you know.

At this time of night?

Well, I couldn't sleep, you know.

What can you see in the dark?

All that I want, I think.

Well, good night, Mr. Sankey.

I could bring you before a magistrate for this.

This is not your property, Mr. O 'Neill.

I'm of no wish it to be, either.

So you went aboard her last night, then? I found out what I wanted to know.

Know?

And what was that?

Maria de Gloria's a slaver.

A slaver?

I found the fittings for the manacles.

And she had a tweedick at one time or other, too. The slave trade's illegal

Well, it still goes on. How?

I thought the French and English navies had ships on the African coast to stop

it. So you need a fast ship to evade them. A ship especially built for the

purpose.

The Brazilians have got too much in slavery to give up the trade altogether.

So that schooner was especially designed to put a long wait between her and any

ship pursuing her.

No wonder you couldn't find out about her, Robert. I doubt she's ever been

registered. But what's she doing in northern latitudes?

Maybe they was after a Brazilian owner.

And he wants to get rid of her, eh?

So he takes on a cargo of sugar, and with the same crew he sends her on a

commercial voyage through seas they've never sailed before.

And at the first sign of trouble they take to the boat.

So that explains why the insurers want a quick sale. We'll let the tension draw

into the back end.

Suits my purpose fine.

But you want the ship to get the real value so that you'll get a just salvage

award. And a salvage award.

I'd rather have the ship.

What? For 500 pounds, she'd be an absolute bargain.

On the fruit run from the Azores, she'd beat everybody on.

Now, I'll tell you something. When we get back to Liverpool, we display no

interest in the Maria de Gloria. And we tell nobody.

But I thought the 500 pounds was for a house.

Oh, Anne, we can always get a house.

But we'll never have a chance of a schooner like that.

Not for 500 pounds.

It's a poor lookout for a man of my years.

He's to be denied the occasion to drink a health to his own grandson.

It'll be six months at least before he's even born.

The way you're drinking his health, you'll not be able to christen him.

Well, I understand that Leachy can be born in a more silvery surrounding than

this. Yes.

James is to buy a house for us.

The property I'm told you have in mind seems founded up in her timbers with a

bit short an accommodation.

If it's the house in Trinity Road that you're referring to, I've been to look

it, that's all.

I'm not sure I'm completely taken with it.

In any case, at the moment, James needs the money for other purposes.

But it only takes one other bidder to find out about that ship and the price

will soon soar to its proper value. I'll just have to chance that, won't I?

£500 is as far as I can go.

So I must do without a house in Trinity Road.

Oh, if anybody talks to me about that again... Look, we're only trying to

James. Help?

Well, yes, I mean... That is, I mean... James, we do have something saved.

And with that little nest egg from my aunt... Are you offering me a loan?

Well...

Not exactly.

No, we thought if we could buy, say, 500 of your in Eden Line chairs, well, then

they'd still be in family.

Now, if you want to buy some more chairs, you buy them from the public.

That way we'll have all the more in the family, won't we? Unless, of course, you

want to reduce my holding.

Robert, I might have to sell some chairs, but if I do, I'll sell them to

I know. I can buy them back from them.

Has James O 'Neill found out she was a slaver?

I can't say, but I strongly suspect that he has.

Well, if he has, he'll bid for her.

Oh, good morning, Emma.

Mr McCallum, may I present Mr Sankey, agent for Weatherby's, who insured the

Maria de Gloria.

I'll take my leave.

Oh, there's no need. You can speak freely in front of Miss Cullen. She owns

business. Indeed.

She also has her head for it.

Very pretty one, too, if I may say so.

Now, uh... Mr. Thankey thinks that James Orneady may have stumbled on the truth

about the Maria de Gloria.

That she's a slaver?

Well, a fast ship, anyway.

A ship he might be inclined to purchase if he could get it cheap enough.

Wilbraham, at least, will bid against him.

So will I. Because if James Orneady is at that auction, I'll be there, too.

And if that's the case, there's no question of this private sale we've been

discussing. What private sale?

Well, Mr. Sankey remembers our interest in a Maria de Gloria when her owners

wanted to dispose of her quickly six months ago. And now she's turned up

Brought in by, of all people, James Orneedan.

Mr. Sankey's offering her to us for a straight 2 ,500 pounds.

Well, then why go to the trouble of putting her up for auction?

To save Mr. Sankey's principles from paying James Orneedan the salvage money

expects. How?

Well, if we don't let anyone know what a fast ship she is, ma 'am, no one will

bother to go all the way to Ireland to bid for us.

Most of the locals will go to it about £400.

And, uh, Mr. Thanky's man, what's his name? Wilbraham.

Aye, Wilbraham, as instructed at the top there. You'll get it for £450 at the

most. Of which James O 'Nedin gets one -third as salver. A mere £150.

Aye.

And then you're Mr. Wilbraham, acting for you, salver's gonna to us.

On the quiet, for £2 ,500.

What would she be worth if you auctioned her fairly?

Well, at the least, £3 ,000.

She's as good as that.

She's remarkable, ma 'am. Which is why my Mr. Sankey knows.

We'll be glad to have her.

You can bid at the auction if you prefer, Mr. Fogarty.

But remember my way.

You gain a considerable bargain.

We save ourselves a great sum by preventing O 'Neill from getting the

salvage due.

From what I hear, that in itself could be quite a consideration with you, Mr.

Fogarty.

Yes, but if James O 'Neill is going to bid for the ship himself... Well, in

case, our transaction can't stand.

So it's imperative that we find out.

James says she'd beat everything on the seat in the resort.

A fine time to buy a ship. The right time is at the bargain.

Quite the stay at home these days, aren't you, James?

That's nice, to be with your wife at a time like this.

Is dinner ready yet?

It will be soon, if the fire's not gone out.

Anne says you're not going to buy that house in Trinity Road after all.

Elizabeth, I've told you before, keep out of our affairs.

You mean to leave her here, don't you? Your profits and your ships come first,

even before your own child.

Anne is as anxious as I am that our child shall make no difference to our

life. She readily understands that if I need to put the affairs of the Aeneid in

line before a bow -fronted window or a lace -covered cot, then I've every right

to do so.

Well, am I not right, Anne?

Of course, James.

I must go.

I left the servants spring cleaning, and with Albert away, they're inclined to

grow lax in their duties.

How lucky you are, Anne, not to be troubled with these problems.

Next time my sister comes to call, I advise you to be a bit more reticent

your confidences, eh?

Could you put some more coal on the fire for me?

I've managed to fill the bucket, but it's the lifting I find hard.

If it should be necessary to find more than 500 pounds, would you begrudge me

the expenditure?

Well, how could you raise the money?

Sell some of the shares.

In that case, couldn't you sell a few more and we could have a house as well?

A year before the Maria de Gloria made enough profit to buy back the shares.

And a house couldn't make any profit to buy them back.

So you would begrudge me, eh?

I can manage the stairs without undue accession at the moment, but not the

I'm not incommoding you. Oh, an unexpected honour, Miss Callan.

Well, I'd heard your wife was a child, and knowing there'll be times when

away at sea, I wanted her to know if there was ever anything I could do. My

has everything she needs.

I came out of kindness, not charity.

Won't you sit down, Miss Callan?

I'm afraid you'll find us ill -prepared for a little bit. Pray make no ceremony

for me, Mrs. O 'Neill.

You'll take a glass of something. We have some Madeira.

No, well...

I can see you're just about to die now. Call another day. Oh, you'd think

nobody'd ever had a baby before.

Well, your wife has never had one before.

It's not expected for another six months yet, at least.

Well, let's hope you're home for the happy event, and that by then your

will have turned sufficiently to provide for it. Miss Callan, why have you

called?

I admit that, whilst here, I did intend to make inquiries about something else.

But my concern for your wife is no less genuine for that.

This ship you salvaged, Mr Fogarty and I were wondering whether it was worth

going over to Ireland to bid for her.

Would I tell you if it were?

You would, I think, if you knew in fact it were not.

What if I were to tell you?

That the Maria de Gloria is so unstable that she'd found her after hitting the

first gale. That she's so unseaworthy that I should have let her to sink. What

would you infer from that, eh? That I wanted you out of the way so I could get

her cheaply myself?

Very possibly.

My uncle may have underrated you, but I do not.

Well, whoever buys the Maria de Gloria buys a pig and a poke.

For 500 pounds, she could be worth it or she could not.

For the Callan Company, it's not much of a risk.

But for me wife and meself, expecting our first, well, we've got better things

to spend our money on.

Well, I appreciate your candour.

Good day, Mrs. O 'Neill.

I'll let thee myself out.

Good day.

No, Miss Garrett.

Here. That should kill any interest in her, there, eh? Now, unless anybody else

has heard of that ship, she's as good as ours.

Oh, James, stop it. Stop what?

It all seems so petty.

That ship could be the way back for us. Another ship? Another gamble?

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm just so weary.

I'll get you dinner. I fear it'll be overdone.

I'll see you sailing today, Mr. Bain.

Aye, Mr. Bogarty.

No needings in command.

Aye. His wife's with him now, saying goodbye. We sail on the tide.

Oh. So he won't be on hand to see what he might get for salvaging that

The auction's tomorrow.

He's not expecting much from that.

Got his fingers burnt there, didn't he?

Why don't you buy her, sir? You could have bought a few thousand.

A few thousand?

Well, she's not worth more than three or four hundred, from what I'm told.

Captain O 'Neill never wants to hear of the Maria de Gloria again.

I'm not surprised, Mr. Baines.

Why are you sailing today?

The ship costs money.

We'll load it sooner than I counted on, so why wait?

So that you can go to Ireland to buy that spooner.

You say that?

Yes.

James, you've hardly spoken a word to me these last two days. Can't you see I'm

trying to make amends?

I want you to buy her.

Another venture, another gamble.

Oh, I was just feeling so weary that day.

Frightened.

I was even a bit envious, too.

Emma Cullen in her fine clothes and Elizabeth.

Look, I don't care a jot for a house.

If buying the Maria de Gloria is what we need, well, that auction's tomorrow.

You must be there, whatever it costs.

Come in.

Excuse me, sir.

Oh, yes.

I just thought you'd like to know I fooled Mr. Fogarty all the way.

He thinks I'm sane.

I neglected to tell him I got my master's certificate, ma 'am. Oh, I'm

hear that, Mr. Baines.

Thank you, ma 'am. I told him you'd no wish to hear of the Marietta Gloria

again.

So if you go now, you just have time to catch the packet.

Here, on your pocket, it doesn't sell as well.

You'd only bother with that if he thought you were, too, sir.

You'll have it all to yourself.

Let's hope it's worth what you pay for it.

I'll be back in a couple of days, eh?

With the scone.

So he was going anyway.

I should have guessed.

Well, you know, kept no lead, ma 'am.

Yes.

But for a while, I forgot.

But what about her finer points, Mr. Sankey? How do I recommend her to the

Just say she's a 300 -ton schooner in need of repair.

Powerful, fine schooner in good state of repair.

That is not what I said, Mr.

Delaney. A broad beam, sits well on the water, good, strong hindquarters of

solid... She is a ship, not a prize bull.

Maybe, but I'm a deal more skilled at selling cattle than ships.

And there's so little to attract their imagination, as it were.

Ah, the Dublin coach.

Let's hope it brings some customers.

Nobody from these parts has money to spare.

I should have thought she was just what I needed for the local potato trade.

There's a small bunch of farmers who've formed themselves into a sort of a

syndicate. And if they haven't drunk the money away before the auction tomorrow,

they may be bid a few hundred. But if you want her to fetch you a fair

We just want her disposed of, Mr Delaney.

Ah, here's someone with the right smell of affluence about him. His name's

Wilbraham. You'll find tomorrow he could well be your man.

And with the gentleman upstairs as well, I was forgetting him.

What gentleman upstairs?

This was hardly necessary.

Just here to observe, Mr Sankey, to keep an eye on my interest in the matter.

Good evening, Fogarty.

Good evening, Mr O 'Neill.

James has taken all the money he could raise to Ireland with him.

I don't know why you put up with it, Anne.

Why I ever questioned it, I want to know.

I married him for security, and I love him for the lack of it.

Dear Elizabeth, you wouldn't understand at all.

Three hundred pounds I am bid, do I hear four.

Four hundred for this fine schooner.

Now, gentlemen, this auction is conducted by inch of candle.

When the candle burns out, the lot falls to whatever bid I've accepted at that

time. Now.

Take heed from my experience as an auctioneer. In the hope of getting it

you stand to lose it altogether if you leave it to the last moment. So who will

bid me 400 pounds?

350?

320?

If your friend Wilbraham doesn't put the price up to no need, he'll get it for a

mere £400.

He, I know, isn't going to raise his hand until that candle's near burns out.

Just in time for Wilbraham to make another bid.

You can't count on that.

Wilbraham knows these auctions by inch of candle. He can time them for a

fraction of a second.

But keep calm, Mr Fogarty.

Wilbraham will get that schooner for £450, and our transaction can take place

planned. But if we'll need it, you'll get him first.

I'll not risk it. Do you hate a moment, Justin?

Ah, come on now, gentlemen. Surely we can do better than this.

Less than half an inch of candle left and I'm still only bid 350 pounds. Do I

hear 400 pounds, Mr. Wilbraham? Ah, thank you, sir. Now, who will bid me 450

pounds?

Yes, sir, Mr.

O 'Riordan.

500 pounds. Thank you, Mr. Wilbraham.

550 pounds.

With Mr.

O 'Riordan at 550 pounds.

Ah, 600 I'm bid.

That's Wilbraham's limit. If he goes any higher, we've nothing to gain by

selling to you afterwards.

But if I need it, you'll get it now.

650, I am bid.

That's your Irishman, the potato merchant.

At least let's see the colour of our needings money.

700. I look for 700.

Who will bid me 700 pounds?

700, Mr Wilbraham.

Can you help me, Mr O 'Riordan?

750, I am bid.

Mr Wilbraham.

800, Mr. Wilbraham.

Now, who will bid me 800 pounds?

I am bid 700... He's still in at 800. Just how much higher can he go? Now,

gentlemen, there's only a minute or two... Time we found out. And I must

800 pounds.

Yes, sir. I have 800 pounds, and the gentleman's just joined us, Mr...

850.

Thank you, Mr. O 'Reilly. 900.

Ah, that's better. 900 pounds, I bid 950.

1 ,000.

Do I hear 1 ,000 pounds?

Well, who will bid me 1 ,000 pounds?

With Mr. O 'Riordan there at 950 pounds, do I hear 1 ,000?

1 ,000. Thank you, sir. Now, gentlemen, time is running out. Can we say 1 ,200

pounds?

1 ,100, then.

Who will give me 1 ,100 pounds?

With Mr. Fogarty, at 1 ,000 pounds, do I hear 1 ,100?

Ah, 1 ,100. Come, gentlemen.

James!

Do I hear 1 ,100?

1 ,100.

Am I bid 1 ,100 pounds?

You are.

You're leaving it late, sir. Well, get on with it, then.

1 ,200.

Ah, 1 ,200. I am bid 1 ,250.

1 ,300, Mr. Fogarty.

Thank you, sir. 1 ,400.

Yes, sir. 15.

16.

17.

Eighteen.

I must have more than this, gentlemen, can I hear?

Nineteen hundred pounds. Will you give me nineteen hundred pounds?

Two thousand.

Two thousand two hundred.

Two thousand four hundred.

With Mr. O 'Neden at two thousand four hundred pounds, will you give me two

thousand six hundred pounds?

2 ,800 pounds, Mr. Ronegan.

Do I hear 2 ,800 pounds?

With Mr. Fogarty at 2 ,600 pounds, do I hear 2 ,800?

You hear 2 ,800 pounds. 2 ,800. I bid 3 ,000.

2 ,900.

2 ,850.

Sold to Captain O 'Neill for 2 ,800 pounds.

I hope you've got the money, Mr. O 'Neill.

You made a deal with the Sackgate, didn't you?

Auction her off cheaply.

Took me out of my salvage award and buy her for the Callan Company.

But you didn't know my limit, did you, Orny, did you? No.

Well, you've got yourself a fine ship.

Nearly 1 ,000 for the salvage award, which means the schooner's cost me under

,000 pounds.

And you have put 500 pounds.

You'll have to sell nearly 1 ,500 pounds worth of your shares.

Ah, but she's a fine schooner. So?

You're back. She'll make more than...

Where's Anne? In bed.

Ill. She was lifting the call for that stove.

And no one else here at the time.

Anne?

A child?

She hasn't lost.

Yes.

But what matter?

James has gained another ship.

Get the schooner.

Yeah.

Good.

That's what we need.