The Hawk Page 17

  'A lubberly fellow, like the steward? Hey?' Mr Hope in return regarded Commander Carr.

  'It ain't my business, in course.' Commander Carr waved his napkin in front of his nose in a vain attempt to disperse the stench of vomit.

  Lieutenant Hayter, at the door, standing aside from the reeking splatters on the decking. 'Mr Abey, there you are.'

  'Yes, sir. Oh . . .'

  'Aye. You will find two idlers, and clear this up. At once, if y'please. And for Christ's sake tell my steward to puke to leeward, on deck.' As the sounds of further retching reached them.

  'Very good, sir.'

  Lieutenant Hayter took up a flask of vinegar from the table and sprinkled pungently aromatic drops liberally by the door. Seating himself:

  'I am very sorry about this.' A frowning grimace at his two guests. 'Let us continue, by all means.'

  'Before we do, Hayter . . .' Commander Carr, a brief, not quite disapproving, glance at Mr Hope.

  'Yes?' James waited.

  'I think it must be made clear at once, as to which of us is to be in command.'

  'It ain't clear to you?' Politely.

  'Not at present.' A slight edge in his voice.

  'Very good. Allow me to make it clear. I am in command.'

  'Ah. You think that, d'you? Allow me, in turn, to make myself – '

  'Commander Carr.' Mr Hope, putting down his glass.

  'Mr Hope?' An impatient tilt of the head.

  'Lieutenant Hayter, as the senior officer present, will be in command.'

  'Senior officer! Now, look here, he has only just now took command of his first cutter. I have five years as master of mine.' A frown. 'And pray, what business is this of yours, Mr Hope? Who are you? What – '

  'Kindly be quiet.'

  'Eh?' Staring at him.

  'I am here at the invitation of Their Lordships. This is a naval cutter, sir, and you are an Excise man.'

  'You say that with contempt, sir, whoever you are. How dare you presume – '

  'I have presumed nothing, Commander Carr. I have merely stated a fact. Nor have I raised my voice. I think it will be better if you lower yours, sir.'

  'Well, I'm damned.'

  'Nay, sir, you are not. You are a guest in one of His Majesty's ships of war.' Mr Hope raised his glass. 'Speaking of which . . .'

  James, taking his cue: 'Aye, aye.' He raised his own glass, and proposed the toast. When the health of the King had been drunk, he said:

  'Commander Carr, I have no wish to be in dispute with you. Surely you must understand, the Royal Navy is the senior service. It is my duty, therefore, to take command of this endeavour – '

  'What of my duty? Am I to – '

  ' – else I should be in direct contradiction of Their Lordships' instructions.'

  'Yes, instructions. Do not y'suppose that I have my own?'

  Mr Hope removed from his pocket a small desk seal with a carved handle, and pushed it towards Commander Carr. 'D'y'know what this is, sir?'

  'A gentleman's seal.' Stiffly.

  'Indeed. Pick it up.' Gesturing. 'Look at it close, if y'please.'

  Commander Carr picked up the seal impatiently, and glanced at it. His impatience gave way to a frown, then to a look of astonishment.

  'But . . . this is a – '

  'Aye, Commander Carr, it is.'

  Two boys had appeared at the door with buckets and cloths, and they began the unrewarding task of mopping up.

  Commander Carr sat briefly with his mouth open, became aware that it was open, and closed it.

  'I – I – am I to understand that this is your own seal, sir?'

  'You are. It is.'

  'Then, then – I must humbly beg your pardon, Your Royal – '

  'Nay, nay, plain Mr Hope, if y'please, Commander Carr. I am here to advise and assist, at Their Lordships' request, mmm . . . in a private capacity.'

  'Private, Your . . . Mr Hope?'

  'Mm-mm, private. The whole matter is private, in its way, you know. Nothing of this will ever be acknowledged, should questions be asked afterward.'

  'Ah. Oh.'

  'Mr Abey?' James, to his senior mid, who had reappeared to check on the boys.

  'Sir?'

  'Will you discover what the cook has achieved in regard to our next remove? Tell him we shall soon starve in the great cabin if we are not fed, will you?'

  'Shall I tell him to come to you, sir?'

  'No no, Richard. Send only our victuals, tell him, as quick as he likes.'

  'Very good, sir.' His hat off and on, and he went forrard.

  The two boys finished their work, touched their foreheads, and followed. The stink of vomit had now been eradicated, the cabin was redolent of vinegar and lye, and James gave his guests more wine. Soon the cook's mate brought their main dish in a covered kid. James dismissed the man with a jerk of his head, and served his guests himself.

  'Let us eat, gentlemen.'

  'Indeed, let's.' Mr Hope. 'Thankee, Mr Hayter.' As his plate was filled. 'And when we have ate, let us get down to business.' Glancing at James, and at Commander Carr. 'Our business, here at sea. Hey?'

  They ate, Commander Carr not quite at his ease, since he had never before broken bread – leave alone eaten sea pie – with a prince of the blood. All the gusty, blustering wind had been stolen from his sails, and he was almost entirely docile. However, fortified by the rich stew and a further glass of wine:

  'You said something, sir, just now. Our business. Our business at sea. May we know your meaning?'

  'We are to find and take the Lark, gentlemen.'

  'Indeed, sir.' Commander Carr, glancing at James. 'The question is – why?'

  'So it is, Commander Carr, so it is.' Regarding him. He turned his head and regarded James a moment. 'You know why, do not ye, Mr Hayter?'

  'I do, sir.'

  'It cannot be simply a matter of her smuggling activity, I assume?' Commander Carr did not get a direct answer to this question. Instead:

  'Her master is one Aidan Faulk. Ye've heard that name?' Mr Hope looked at Commander Carr.

  'No, sir.'

  'No.' A brief nod, and he wiped his lips with his napkin. 'We will like to interview with Mr Faulk, and discover – certain intelligence.'

  'When you say "we", Mr Hope,' Commander Carr met his gaze, 'd'y'mean Their Lordships and yourself, sir? Or . . . others?'

  'Oh, Their Lordships certainly have an interest in seeing him took.' Inclining his head. 'As to others, I will say . . . yes, there is others wish it. You will ask me again, why. Mr Faulk is a very resourceful fellow. An educated fellow, that might be described as a person of independent mind. From boyhood he loved the sea, and boats. His father had interests in merchant shipping, and the boy was indulged in his passion for sailing. He is now possessed of a considerable private fortune, some of which he used to purchase the Lark from – '

  'From Sedley Ward,' James broke in, forgetting for a moment that Mr Hope's not precisely truthful explication was for the benefit of Commander Carr, who was not to be taken fully into their confidence, but employed merely as a useful ally should they come to action. James bit his lip. Mr Hope looked at him very direct, and:

  'Indeed, from Captain Ward, that has since died in a tropick place. To continue . . .'

  'I beg your pardon, sir.'

  'To continue, Mr Faulk did first come to the attention of your Board, Commander Carr, in regard to his smuggling activity.'

  'We have pursued the Lark for some time, sir – without success. We did not know the name of her master.'

  'Smuggling is a long-established practice along these coasts. The Board of Excise does its duty, and the Board of Customs. You Revenuers are very assiduous, I am in no doubt.' A little shrug, a little pushing-out of the lips. 'But we know, do not we, gentlemen – if we are candid – that even the most respectable country priest, even the most upstanding gentleman farmer, ain't above acquirin' his brandy and his cheroots too, free of duty. Hey?'

  'I think you are right
, Mr Hope.' James smiled.

  Commander Carr did not smile. He looked uncomfortable. 'We have had considerable success of late, you know, in taking some of these vessels, and the villains that sail them. It may be that people ashore find it convenient to throw the laws of the land down on the ground and stamp on them, but if they do they behave like villains themselves, by God – ' He paused, aware of eyes on him.

  'Pray continue, Commander Carr.' Mr Hope, leaning forward politely.

  'Well, no, sir . . . I don't know that I should like to lay down the law, so to say, to a person such as yourself. Please forgive my intemperate language.'

  'Nay, Commander Carr, nay. Do not apologize, sir. You are quite right to feel as y'do. Quite right.' A glance at James. 'Ain't he, Mr Hayter?'

  'Eh? Oh, yes. Yes, quite right.' Making his face stern. 'It is our sworn duty, all of us together.'

  'I have heard – sometimes heard, you know – that high officials in the Revenue do not always know to an ounce and a shilling what becomes of the goods seized. Had you heard anything of that, Commander Carr?'

  'I – I do not quite take your meaning, sir.'

  'Do not you? Ah. Ah. No doubt I have heard wrong, then.'

  'I – I could not say, sir.'

  'Well, no matter. Smuggling ain't quite all of our business, anyway, this cruise. Mr Aidan Faulk is our business . . . and his other purpose.'

  'Other purpose?' Commander Carr was nettled, and it showed in the flush at his neck.

  'To kill good Englishmen such as yourself, Commander, and Mr Hayter.' As if stating the obvious. 'We must stop him, the fellow, before he does any more damage. We must capture him, and discover . . . who are his accomplices in this enterprise.'

  'And – and that is all the intelligence you seek, sir?' Commander Carr glanced briefly at James, then returned his gaze to Mr Hope, who made no reply. Commander Carr was an arrogant man, a man inclined always to want his own way, but he was not a stupid man, and he had begun to believe that he was being told – if not a pack of outright lies, then something very like. However, he felt that he could not say so without discommoding himself. It was very vexing to him, vexing and wounding, that his companions did not wish to take him into their confidence. Looking ahead he could see little benefit to himself in any of this endeavour, even if Lark were taken, and he did not like it.

  The three at table ate jam roly-poly and drank their coffee, and Mr Hope wondered aloud if he might drink a glass of madeira. Embarrassed, Lieutenant Hayter was obliged to reveal that he carried no madeira aboard, nor port wine neither, nor brandy. Mr Hope smiled tolerantly, and professed indifference:

  'It is no hardship to me to live on grog and biscuit, Mr Hayter, never fear. I am used to such things, never fear. I am content.'

  James was stung by this remark, but he did not show it. He merely thought that his eminent guest might have been a little less dismissive of his efforts, of what had been, for Hawk, as near to a feast as could be managed. His guest now leaned forward, nodding and blinking, drew breath theatrically, and enquired:

  'Gentlemen, have you heard the tale of the maid that tried to milk the bull? No? I will tell it you!'

  Presently the two cutters hove to, Commander Carr returned to Pipistrel in his boat, and on the Hawk's quarterthe deck Lieutenant Hayter called to his sailing master:

  'Mr Dumbleton, we will get under way, if y'please, and come about directly. Set me a course west-sou'-west, and let us crack on.'

  'Aye, sir, west-sou'-west.'

  The two cutters would now separate and diverge, and patrol the lanes calculated to be those most likely frequented by the Lark, at this time. Should one or other encounter her, a red rocket was to be fired at once, and rendezvous made with all speed.

  Mr Hope joined Lieutenant Hayter on deck as Hawk came about and heeled into the westerly wind on the starboard tack. He lit a cheroot. An ember from the glowing tip wandered on the wind across the deck, and bounced off a carronade.

  'He will never be easy took, you know, even when we are two cutters to his one.' Quietly, at James's shoulder.

  'I know it only too well, sir. I have a scar at my neck and several others up and down my body to remind me.'

  'But he must be took. He must be took and brought ashore.'

  Something in his tone – of urgency, or even of fear – made James turn and look at Mr Hope. In the glow of his cheroot Mr Hope's face betrayed nothing. Smoke slipped from the corner of his mouth, and flew away over the wake.

  A shower of rain, passing across the harbour from Gosport to Portsmouth, had left the cobbles shining in the light from the windows of the inn, and lifted from the street and the walls of the buildings a clammy odour of distemper, and old bricks, and moss. Two men emerged from the door of the inn into the yard at the rear, fastened their cloaks against the evening chill, and climbed into their hired gig. The older man took the reins, and drove out of the yard into the street, and away out of the town. Sir Robert Greer and Captain Rennie were driving to the White Hart post inn, where they would dine in a private room.

  Half an hour later they were in that room, and Sir Robert, removing his cloak, indicated the chair on the far side of the small table. Rennie removed his own cloak, and sat down.

  'I am glad we are to have this opportunity to dine, Captain Rennie.' Sir Robert glanced round the room, and pulled out his chair with a sharp squeak of wood against the plain boards of the floor. The room was sparsely furnished, not quite mean in appearance, with white walls, a narrow grate at the far end, and standing irons. Their light came from a pair of candles on the table, on which Sir Robert had caused to be placed a linen cloth.

  'Naturally', seating himself with a momentary caution of movement, 'I should have asked you to dine at Kingshill, in other circumstances.' A brief quaver in the deep timbre of his voice as he pulled up his chair under him. 'But my house is watched.' A final little exhalation of breath as he took up his napkin.

  'Watched, Sir Robert?' Rennie, warily, unwilling to be his companion's friend. 'By whom?'

  'Enemies.'

  Rennie waited a moment for elaboration. None came, and he took up his own napkin, and spread it. Presently, when Sir Robert had rung the table bell, Rennie sniffed in a breath and:

  'I have been at Portsmouth on private business, Sir Robert.

  I was on the point of returning to Norfolk when you found me. If y'have decided to press the charge of treason – '

  'I have not. I do not wish it.' The black eyes met Rennie's gaze, and Rennie noted – not with compassion or sympathy, only with surprise – that Sir Robert now in the candle glow looked older and thinner and less substantial than when they had last met. 'Nay, I do not.'

  'I am glad of that, in least.' Drily.

  'There are more dangerous and immediate things claiming my attention, Rennie, as they must now claim yours.'

  A porter brought in their first course, a steaming broth, and retired on Sir Robert's nod.

  'You are aware, in course, of Lieutenant Hayter's commission.' A statement, not a question. 'That is why ye came to Portsmouth, ain't it?' Breaking a piece of bread.

  'On the contrary, Sir Robert. I came here – to see a lady.' With a hint of defiance.

  'Eh? A lady? What lady, pray?' Sharply.

  'I cannot think that is your affair, you know, Sir Robert.' Mildly enough, but with an added stare.

  'She knows nothing of the commission? Of your involvement?'

  'Allow me to iterate, I am here private. The lady could hardly, therefore – '

  'Pish pish, Captain Rennie!' A return of the old authority and menace. 'Let us have no idle pretence between us. You go about as Mr Birch.' His spoon poised over the broth. 'Why?'

  A little shrug, determined not to be browbeaten. Let the fellow do his worst.

  'A man came to you in your room at the Marine Hotel, some little time since. Yes?'

  Rennie looked at him, and put down his own spoon. How much did Sir Robert know? What was his purpose?
/>   'A man that you fought with and overpowered, and later caused to have carried away from the hotel by two yardmen, under cover of night. Yes?'

  Rennie waited, and said nothing. Clearly Sir Robert had informants at every level in Portsmouth.

  'Yes?'

  'I repeat, I came to see a lady. She is a Mrs Townend, a naval widow of Norfolk, that has took a house on the Cambridge Road. She is living there with her sister.'

  'Then why d'y'call yourself Birch? Why d'y'skulk about in civilian clothes, if you have come to woo a naval widow? Hey!' Banging down his spoon beside the bowl. Broth shivered, slopped.

  Rennie allowed a further moment to pass, then:

  'Sir Robert, I think that you must tell me, if you will be so good, what it is you want of me. I do not at present hold a commission, but I am in course as willing as you are to serve the King. Admonition and rebuke will not bring us to our design – will they?'

  This calm request and unbending tone had their effect. Sir Robert made a face, picked up his spoon and addressed his broth. Presently:

  'Very well, Rennie, very well. I will not pursue you as to Birch. I do not care about Birch, and ladies in the Cambridge Road. What d'y'know of a vessel, the Lark?'

  'I know that Lieutenant Hayter's duty is to pursue her, and take her. A smuggling cutter, ain't she?' Lifting his eyebrows in polite enquiry.

  'What did you convey to the fellow that came to your rooms at the Marine Hotel? What did y'tell him about Mr Hayter?'

  'I told him nothing, Sir Robert.'

  'With a pistol at your head?'

  'His pistol was not long pointed at my head, you know. My foot went in his testicles right quick, and the pistol became mine. I have it yet.'

  'Had you any notion who the man was, when you had him carried off in the night?'

  'None.'

  'Very well. His name is Aidan Faulk. Perhaps y'may have seen his name on the Lieutenants' List.'

  'He is a sea officer?' Surprised.

  'Was. He has left the service.'

  'In what circumstances?'

  'That is immaterial. It is his present activity concerns us. Ye've had sight of Lieutenant Hayter's instructions?'

  'Well well . . . I have.' Rennie saw no point in pretending otherwise, now.