The Following Wind Page 4

  ‘Nay, I was in a lowly sloop, as repeat signals.’

  ‘I should have given anything to have been there. To have seen it. I was far too young, in course. A mere nine-year-old boy. It was a great spectacle, was it not?

  A very great battle?’

  ‘It was decisive.’

  Rennie sat quiet a moment, remembering the thundering slaughter of the guns, the screams, the wreckage riding on the bloodstained sea. A breath, and he thrust the memory aside.

  ‘Hm, hm, forgive me, Mr. Allbright, but had you never considered following in your father’s wake, and becoming a sea officer?’

  ‘I was a rather sickly child.’ Apologetically. ‘Else I should have gone in as a captain’s servant, or as a mid. My father wouldn’t allow it. He said I was too frail for life in a blue coat.’

  ‘Surely, as a Marine officer, you may be called on to join a ship at any time?’

  ‘My father has arranged .well, I am attached to Colonel Jefferies, and will very likely always remain ashore.’

  ‘Ah. Ah.’ A moment, then: ‘Ever been to sea, Mr. Allbright?’

  ‘I have been aboard a revenue cutter, with a friend who is in that service.’

  ‘And was it a handsome experience ?’

  A sudden grin. ‘It was one of the most exhilarating things I have ever known, by God. We pursued a smuggler thirty mile in rough weather, flying through the sea at heaven knows what rate of knots. Great waves smashed up and over the deck, and still we flew. We was all drenched to the skin, afterward. Hah!’

  ‘Did you take the smuggler?’

  ‘Nay, he was too damned slippery fast. We lost him as night closed in.’ A self-deprecating chuckle, then his face grew serious again. ‘In course, I I never said anything about it to my father. He would not have liked it.’ A breath. ‘But I loved every minute.’

  Rennie had warmed to the young man, and now he said:

  ‘Lookee here, Mr. Allbright. If ever you change your mind about going to sea, let me know, will ye? I may perhaps be able to assist.’

  ‘My father would never allow it.’ A quick shake of the head.

  ‘You are of age, I expect?’

  ‘Eh? Oh, yes. I am twenty-two.’

  ‘Then you do not need his permission.’ Quietly. ‘Hey?’

  Lieutenant Allbright fell silent, and Rennie thought it wise not to press him.

  After half an hour they turned down off the Kings Road toward the river, the chimney rows of the Royal Hospital against the night sky to their left, and came toward their destination.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The carriage turned to the right along a tree lined avenue. The smell of the river drifted in through the top of the side window. The carriage came to a halt outside a tall, grand house set back behind railings and a gate, the redbrick fa ade lit by the glow of a lantern over the door.

  ‘Whose house is this?’ Rennie.

  ‘I understand tho I have never before been here it is the Duke of Balcombe’s house, sir.’

  ‘Duke of Balcombe? Is he in the Fund ?’

  ‘Fund, sir?’

  ‘Nay, never mind, Mr. Allbright. You say you don’t know Mr. Symonds. Perhaps this don’t concern the Fund, after all.’

  ‘I am merely following my orders, sir. I was told to bring you here, and then come away.’

  ‘Eh? Go away? How am I to get back to my hotel?’

  ‘I I don’t know that, sir.’ Apologetically.

  ‘Listen now, Mr. Allbright. Just wait here a moment, will ye, while I go in and discover what is what? Then I will--’

  ‘I am to return at once to Colonel Jefferies, sir.’ The lieutenant, over him. ‘This is his carriage.’

  ‘This?’ In surprise. ‘Then your colonel must indeed be a man of means.’

  ‘He is, sir.’

  ‘I see. Well well, thankee, Mr. Allbright.’ Rennie opened the door, and the servant, waiting obediently, folded down the step. Rennie got down, careful with his sword, and turned round. He wished not to give the impression that he was angry with the young man. In fact he had grown to like him. ‘Goodnight to you.’

  ‘Goodnight, sir.’

  Rennie went in at the gate as the carriage departed with a subdued clopping of hooves on the night air. The air was cool, and Rennie was glad of his coat. He was about to tug the bell pull when the door was opened. Beyond was a grand hall-way with a wide black and white stone floor, wall lights and a vast gilt framed

  mirror at the far end. As he stepped inside it seemed to him, in spite of the dancing flames in the hall fireplace, under a great marble mantle, that the atmosphere was chill. Snapping sparks and a sniff of wood smoke told him the fire had only just been lit. He had the further impression that until tonight the house had long been empty.

  A liveried footman appeared from behind the door. Rennie removed his cockaded hat, and the footman took it, then:

  ‘Erm .your sword, sir?’

  ‘Oh, aye, very good.’ Rennie unbuckled his sword, and the man took it, and disappeared.

  Rennie waited, feeling slightly intimidated. He was unused to the houses of noblemen. He told himself that he should not be in the least way discommoded, that he should be confident, as an officer and a gentleman, in any man’s house. Should he sit down on one of the low chairs against the wall?

  ‘Nay,’ to himself. ‘They are chairs for tradesmen carrying bills. I shall stand.’

  ‘Captain Rennie?’ A voice from the far end, and Rennie saw a lighted doorway

  and a silhouetted figure. He strode toward the figure. He did not recognize the voice. Was this the duke himself? How should he address him? ‘Duke’? Or simply

  ‘Sir’? Or was there some other form of address? Surely not ‘Your Highness’?

  ‘ ‘Your Grace’,’ under his breath, as he approached the door. ‘That is the correct form of address.’

  The figure had disappeared before Rennie reached the door. He went through, and found himself in a long, faintly illuminated gallery, lined with urns and marble statues, some of them draped in dust covers. Another doorway at the far end. The figure waiting there. Rennie strode down the gallery. The figure again disappeared.

  ‘Your Grace ?’ Rennie called.

  He reached the door, hesitated, then went through.

  The room beyond was smaller in scale and far more inviting than either the hall or gallery. It was a library, with tall bookcases filled with row upon serried row of leather bound volumes, each shelf protected from dust by a scalloped leather fringe. On the tops of the shelves stood alabaster busts. A fire burned bright in the small grate, flanked by tall windows with drawn silk curtains. There was a wheel barometer between two other bookcases. In the middle of the room stood a broad pedestal desk, with a standing globe to one side, and a deep leather chair behind. In the chair sat the figure that had beckoned him from the doorway.

  Rennie moved forward to the desk. In the light of the tall candle on the desk he saw a lined, nearly gaunt face, deepset eyes, and a high tied stock under a firm chin.

  ‘Your Grace .?’

  ‘The duke ain’t here, Captain Rennie. You and I are the sole occupants of Balcombe House, tonight.’

  ‘May I .may I know your name, sir?’ In spite of his determination not to be intimidated, Rennie found himself distinctly ill at ease. A coal ticked in the grate,

  and instead of sounding comforting and easeful, it seemed to Rennie to strike a note of menace.

  ‘My name is of no consequence. I act for the government.’

  Rennie nodded, and for no explicable reason felt his confidence and self-possession begin to return. Without being asked he took one of the plain chairs from its place against the wall and brought it to the desk. Without being asked, he sat down. And waited. The deepset eyes regarded him.

  ‘You told nobody that you were coming here?’

  ‘I did not. Lieutenant Allbright brought me here, without explanation, and then he went away.’

  ‘A dangerous circumstance
has arose that is very particular to our cause.’

  ‘Our cause ?’

  ‘Our cause in the nation’s interest.’

  ‘Ah.’ Again Rennie nodded. The words were familiar to him.

  ‘I wonder if you know just how dire the position has become on the continent of Europe? The Netherlands is lost. All our military ventures have failed. We are hard pressed in every distinction.’

  ‘War is always hard.’ Simply.

  ‘England is in very grave peril.’

  ‘I am ready to do my duty if only you will tell me what it is.’

  ‘Have you heard of Okhotsk, Captain Rennie?’

  ‘Okhotsk ? No, I have not.’

  ‘It is a small Russian outpost, on the shore of the remote Sea of Okhotsk, at the farthest corner of the north western Pacific Ocean.’

  ‘Indeed?’ A moment, then: ‘D’y’mean I am to sail there?’

  ‘Both you and Captain Sir James Hayter.’

  ‘May I know why we are to sail there? To that remote corner of the world?

  What grave danger to England could conceivably lie there, good heaven?’

  ‘Do not be impatient, sir. That is your greatest failing, I hear. Curb it, if you please, and listen close. Do not imagine that Mr. Symonds acts independent of His Majesty’s government. He does not. He acts for it and under its direction. Since the death of Mr. Brough Mappin, we have decided to place the Secret Service Fund under far greater and closer control. No arm, nor wing, nor outbranch of government may behave wholly free of restraint, and the Fund had come near to doing so. That is why I am here tonight. To inform you very succinct that you do not and will not act for Mr. Symonds, that is merely a servant of government. You will act for us, in all distinctions, and at every stage. And it is why I say to you again: govern your impatience, sir, govern your intemperate desire to behave as if you was in charge, and may dictate the terms of your activity. You may not.’

  For the second time in a long day, Rennie felt his resolve slipping. He had re-solved not to be intimidated, and he had resolved not to grow impatient. He had resolved to be temperate, and obedient, and to do exactly as he was told. And now, late at night, all that resolve was lifting away from him, whirling up over the polite shelves and the busts, and flying out of the room through the tops of the silken curtains into the dark night beyond, in a storm of doubt and disbelief. He sniffed in a breath to calm himself, but instead it filled his breast with surging, fiery determination. He rose, returned the chair to its place by the wall, and went to the door. Turned, and before the man at the desk could say another word:

  ‘I don’t know who you are, sir. You would not and will not tell me. For all I know you may be an actor brought from the theatre to play the part of some great political fellow. As indeed may that other buffoon, that calls himself Symonds, and pretends to speak for the Prime Minister. Or the young blade that brought me here, and said he was the son of an admiral. He may be, or he may not. Frankly, I do not care. I have endured so much nonsense, outright nonsense, and rank, preposterous make-believe today, aye, and tonight too, that I have lost all patience nor interest in it any of it. I shall leave this house, walk back to the Strand, and go to my bed. And tomorrow I shall go home to my wife in Norfolk, and there live out my days in calm contentment, free of all further fantastical intrigue and extravagant whimsy ‘in the nation’s interest’. A damned canting phrase, sir, for subterfuge, criminal deceit, and wanton bad faith.’

  Rennie flung the door wide, strode down the gallery and out on the chequered stone floor of the hall.

  ‘You there!’ he bellowed, his voice echoing the length of the hall. ‘Light along my hat and sword, right quick!’

  The liveried footman came hurrying to the entrance, and half a minute after Rennie strode out under the lantern, through the gate, and turned toward London.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Rennie walked all the way back to the Strand, twice losing his way in muddy darkness, and came to his hotel at long past midnight. He had to knock several times, loudly, to gain entry; the sleepy hall boy at last let him in. Rennie went wearily up to his room, undressed and fell into an exhausted doze. He woke briefly when an early guest arrived and was admitted. He went back to sleep, and did not wake again until past nine o’clock. He rose, rang for hot water, washed and shaved, shifted into a clean shirt and his undress coat, and went down to a late breakfast.

  As he came into the parlour, which at Mrs. Peebles’ hotel served as the res-idents’ dining room, he was not altogether astonished and certainly pleased to see, seated at a table against the wall James Hayter.

  ‘So, here you are, James.’

  James rose from his table and greeted Rennie with a surprised smile.

  ‘William. You here, too?’

  Rennie’s initial pleasure at seeing his friend quickly diminished as he recalled the circumstances of his commission in Taciturn. This must have shown in his face, because James’s smile faltered.

  ‘Are you .have you come to London .on Admiralty business?’ he asked.

  ‘I did. I was here on just such business. No longer.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. I will like a word with you, James, as to that.’

  ‘With me?’

  ‘Indeed, with you.’

  ‘Then let us sit down and talk, over toast and marmalade, hey?’’

  Rennie joined James at his table by the wall, raised his hand for the servant girl, and ordered a pot of tea. To James:

  ‘Y’wrote letters, James.’

  ‘I may as well admit that I did.’ An apologetic shrug. ‘However, my motive--’

  ‘Yes, y’did.’ Over him. ‘And because y’did I was offered a guardship.’

  ‘A guardship?’

  ‘HMS Taciturn 74, at the Nore.’

  ‘My dear William, I had no idea. I am most heartily sorry that--’

  ‘The offer was withdrawn.’

  ‘Withdrawn .?’

  ‘I was offered Expedient, instead. She is undergoing great repair at Chatham.’

  ‘Good heaven.’ Utterly astonished.

  ‘You had heard nothing of this, neither?’ Looking at him closely.

  ‘I had not. It is excellent news.’

  ‘Hm. Hm. May I ask why you have come to London?’

  ‘I have been called here on urgent naval business. We came up on the night mail coach from Portsmouth Catherine is with me.’

  ‘Ah. Catherine is well, I hope?’

  ‘Very well, but tired. She is resting upstairs. Later she will go shopping.’

  ‘Hm.’ A nod, then: ‘You do not know what your urgent business may be?’

  ‘I do not. The letter merely instructed me to come at once. I am to go to the Admiralty this morning.’

  ‘I suggest it has to do with your ship Ventura.’

  ‘Very likely, yes.’

  ‘And with Expedient.’

  James stared at him. Rennie went on:

  ‘There is a scheme afloat that Ventura and Expedient should sail together to the Far East.’

  ‘I know nothing of this .nothing at all.’ Shaking his head.

  ‘At any rate, it cannot be. Not now. I have refused.’

  ‘I do not follow.’ Again shaking his head. ‘You have refused Expedient ?’

  ‘Indeed, I have.’ And now Rennie told James all that had happened since he came to London from Norfolk, and of his belief that he had been deliberately misled. That he and James were to be sent far away, out of political motive, to silence them. When Rennie had finished James sat quiet a moment, then:

  ‘Will you wait until after I have completed my business at the Admiralty?’

  ‘Here at the hotel?’

  ‘When I have discovered what their Lordships want of me whatever it may be, Ventura and Expedient, or something else entire I will return here at once. Then, and only then, may we come to a decision.’

  ‘Decision, James? I must tell you, I have already reached my decision. I will go home to
Sylvia, and quiet retirement. You see before you, drinking his tea, a gentleman of leisure.’

  ‘You have no interest in discovering what they propose for us, in the Far East?’

  ‘None. I have had a long and arduous career, and I have grown weary, James. Last night, in that great cold house in Chelsea, weariness became disgust.

  I recalled those many commissions including our last that was based on lies and intrigue and obfuscation, always at the hands of that damned sinister Fund. I do not care for it any longer. I will not bear it. Neither deceit, nor intrigue, nor unconscionable concealment, for political ends. It is intolerable, and I--’

  ‘William,’ over him. ‘As you y’self reminded me not long since, when I complained about blockade duty we are at war. England is in peril. Surely we cannot refuse to do our duty, merely because we are doubtful, or weary, or disgusted. We are sea officers, good God. Post captains of fighting ships.’

  ‘I have burned my boats, James.’ Sitting back in his chair, and shaking his head.

  ‘And that is an end to it.’

  ‘All I ask is that you do not go away before I return from Whitehall.’ Earnestly, across the table. ‘Say that y’will wait, I beg of you.’

  A long moment, then Rennie: ‘Ohh, very well, James.’ A sigh. ‘I will wait.’

  ‘Good, good thankee, William.’ James rose, touched a hand on Rennie’s shoulder, and departed.

  ‘But I will not change my mind.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  James went to the Admiralty, mindful of everything Rennie had told him, and was directed to the Third Secretary’s office. There he met Mr. Havelock Symonds, who introduced himself, explained that he had replaced Brough Mappin at the Secret Service Fund, and why, and offered James sherry. James refused.

  ‘It is a little early in the day for me, Mr. Symonds. And by the by there is no need to call me Sir James. I prefer Captain Hayter.’

  ‘Very good.’ A measured breath. ‘I am sorry to say that you may be here on a fruitless errand. Unless, in course, you will agree to help me.’

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘The venture I had wished to discuss with you has been hindered, due to an unforeseen difficulty, a clumsy, blundering attempt to interfere. I have only just now learned of this myself, else I could have sent word to you.’