"Because it's your assignment, Lieutenant!" Pollard snapped.
Abbotsley looked at his commanding officer. He was a short man, but built solidly, a tanned and lined face that fell easily into a scowl, the brow furrowed with lines. The hair was greying and thinning, the eyes blue, clear and piercing. Even in the short time that he had been ashore he had heard about Pollard. A terrier, most had said, an officer who was an officer - efficient, a hard worker, blunt and to the point. And not to be treated lightly.
"I meant no disrespect, sir," Abbotsley added. "I had assumed that I would be assigned to a post here in Hobart Town."
Pollard stood up and walked slowly over to the large window. He watched the activity outside for a minute or two and then turned back to face the Lieutenant.
"Captain Evans currently commands the settlement at Macquarie Harbour," Pollard said, in the same slow, paced tone. "A month ago his lieutenant was ... he died." Pollard looked at the young lieutenant and watched his face as he spoke the next words. "He was badly injured following an attack by a small group of convicts. He subsequently died from his injuries."
Abbotsley looked up from where he sat, into Pollard's eyes. The Major saw puzzlement in the man's face, but not fear. Perhaps he would be good support for Evans. The fresh looks may be a bit deceiving, he thought.
"It is a rough place, Lieutenant," Pollard continued. "It is isolated - both by virtue of its distance from Hobart Town and also by its inaccessibility. It can only be approached from the sea and is surrounded by mountains that are covered by impenetrable vegetation."
"Why do we have a settlement there, sir?"
"Kelly discovered it in 1815. Captain James Kelly. He was exploring the coastline of the island in a whaleboat lent to him by James Gordon. He returned here with reports of great stands of Huon Pine. He and his friend, a man called Birch, were given an exclusive contract - for one year - to farm the timber."
Pollard stopped. He was beginning to sound like a history teacher. He looked at Abbotsley, but the young Lieutenant was watching him intently and he seemed to be concentrating on each word.
"Governor Sorell commissioned Kelly to bring back some of this timber for government use. Sorell sent another man with him - a man called Florence - so that he could get some independent reports on the area and its value. Florence considered the harbour itself to be ideal. Ideal as a harbour and also with good prospects for some sort of settlement. He confirmed the reports of the Huon stands and also reported reserves of coal in the area."
"Coal, sir?"
"Yes. Anyway, that was enough for Sorell. He thought it was a good idea to kill two birds with the one stone. There was a need to establish a penal settlement to which he could send the worst convicts. Somewhere away from Hobart. And he wanted to exploit the Huon reserves - and the coal.
"So Macquarie Harbour was established, nearly seven years ago."
Pollard walked back to his desk and sat down.
"It still caters for the worst convicts - even though we now have a settlement at Maria Island. So the men you'll be responsible for guarding are not soft men, Lieutenant. Many are murderers and many have little to live for."
"You make it sound like ... like hell, sir."
"That's a good word, Abbotsley. A good word." He paused and drew a pipe from the top drawer of his desk. "It's important you know what you're going into. I don't want you thinking that it's going to be easy." There was a battered tin of tobacco on top of the desk and he opened it, scooping the strands out with short thick fingers, packing it into the bowl of the pipe.
"The coal turned out to be poor quality and not really worth mining. But the pine - the Huon - is magnificent."
"I don't think I've ever heard of the timber, sir." There was a puzzled look on the Lieutenant's face, as if he had heard the name, but couldn't place it.
"No. Benedict is our local botanist and he thinks it may even be indigenous to this island. It was first discovered along the Huon River, south from here. It's named after ..."
"Huon, the French explorer," Abbotsley interjected and there was a smile on his face.
"You know him, then?"
"Yes, sir. I read." Pollard saw the pride in the man's face. A chance to show his knowledge. My God, the Harbour would knock that out of him. "Captain Huon de Kermadec," Abbotsley was saying. "He was captain of the Esperance and was part of an exploration voyage under the command of Rear-Admiral Bruni D'Entrecasteaux. They explored this area around 1792. Lord Greyling's account of the voyage is quite fascinating."
Pollard smiled to himself. Yes, the man was keen. A year or so at Macquarie Harbour to get some good experience under his belt - some hardening - and he would be a valuable asset here. Governor Arthur was talking about the need to set up another penal settlement closer to Hobart. Perhaps Abbotsley?
"Good." Pollard rammed the last of the tobacco into the bowl and thrust the pipe into his mouth, puffing and sucking with a great amount of concentration.
"New pipe," he said, looking at Abbotsley again. "The old one split. Hate breaking in a new one."
The lieutenant smiled and nodded in agreement.
"The Huon is a dense pine. Very slow growing, according to Benedict. Holds nails well, impervious to water, and, therefore, excellent for ship building." Pollard stood up again and walked over to the fireplace and stuck a long narrow shard of timber into the flames. "And that's what we do at Macquarie Harbour, lieutenant. We build ships."
"Ships?"
"Ships," Pollard repeated and allowed himself to smile slightly. "Those bloody convicts work hard. And it'll be up to you to make sure that continues. You'll be second in command, under Evans."
The Major pulled the lighted stick from the fire and laid the end across the top of the pipe bowl, sucking flame down onto the tobacco, his eyes intent on the glow.
"You're not married, so you'll ...."
"Well, sir, that's not ..."
"What's that? I understood you to be a single man, Lieutenant."
"I am, sir. But I ... I have ... I met a woman on the ship."
"On the ship? The one you came on? The Bodmin Lady?"
"The Lady of Bodmin, Major," Abbotsley corrected quietly. "Yes, sir."
"A freewoman?" Pollard asked, but half-knew the answer.
"No, sir. A convict."
"And you want to marry this woman?"
"Well, sir," Abbotsley stumbled. "I thought I might ..."
"I understand, Lieutenant." He drew deeply on the lighted pipe and smiled inwardly. It was a long voyage and it was not unusual for the women convicts to be selected and used. Many, unfortunately, were cast aside on their arrival at Hobart, some with unwanted children in their bellies.
"Might I be permitted to take her with me, sir?"
Pollard paused. "It is possible, Lieutenant," Pollard answered. "But I would advise against it."
"Sir?"
"There are only men convicts there. Women went there originally, but, for a number of reasons, it didn't work out and they were withdrawn. Some of the officers have families there, but the climate is not conducive to a happy life. Captain Evans had his family with him for the first four months, but sent them back on the supply ship. I don't think that either he or his family regret that decision. As a consequence, I would advise strongly against taking your ... your woman with you, Lieutenant. More so if she is not your wife."
It was Abbotsley's turn to stand now, and he walked to the window.
"I don't know what to do, sir," he said without turning.
"Perhaps I can help. What do you know of this woman?"
"She's