‘It is out of the question, James. Expedient is damaged very heavy, as you see here in the cabin, with canvas rigged over the stern gallery, and evidence of smashing all about us. We prevailed by broadsides, and canister grenades, and then by boarding their ship. However, we had already took a terrible pounding from their twenty-fours. Our mizzen is fragile, and our foremast, much of our rigging was lost, two of our boats, and two bowers. Six of our eighteens was smashed. The ship is greatly weakened. Another storm could sink us. We must go home.’
‘And your people ?’
A sigh. ‘Twelve dead, and another thirty wounded, some of them very severe. We must return to Portsmouth and see them safely into the Haslar Hospital. What may become of us then .’
James made a face. ‘It looks altogether as if our commission was a lost cause, don’t it?’
‘I fear it does. The one fortunate thing to come of the two actions was the death of my steward. In the second action I caused him to be brought on deck, and take his place at a gun. He was killed the first fire. You had already disposed of the fellow put a knife to your throat, hey? We are well rid of them. ‘ A sniff, and he lifted the decanter. ‘Another glass?’
‘Your surgeon Dr. Pruett don’t approve of my drinking even one glass, leave alone a second.’
‘Dr. Pruett ain’t present.’
‘No, he ain’t. I will drink another glass, thankee, William.’ Rennie refilled his glass, and James: ‘Then if I may I will turn in.’
‘The coach is yours, James, whenever you wish to retire. I will look out an undress coat for you, and some other things, tomorrow. A hat, a sword.’
‘You are very good.’ James sipped his wine. ‘Erm you say you boarded the French frigate. What became of her?’
‘She has sank.’
‘You could not save her, and take her a prize?’
‘We sent a double shotted broadside into her at point blank, and holed her below the line. By the time we boarded her she was already by the head. No amount of pumping, nor fothering neither, could have saved her. She settled, and sank, and her surviving officers and people went away in her boats.’
‘You let them go ?’
‘There was no room for them in Expedient, James.’ A shrug.
‘I cannot say I am sorry she sank, after what she did to Foxhound. In truth I am glad.’ Another sip of wine. ‘What of the other French frigate?’
Rennie puffed out his cheeks. ‘I do not know. She may perhaps have sank. Or she may have limped home to France. Who can say?’
‘Then we have nothing to show for our trouble. A ship sloop lost, a frigate badly
damaged, no prizes, no gentleman from Naples, and no damned drawings.’
‘I agree, James. It is altogether a dismal conclusion.’
‘When we reach Portsmouth I will take the letter of report to London.’
‘You, James? I am the senior post. It is my responsibility.’
‘In the first place you have not lost your ship. I have lost mine. In the second place it was I persuaded you to obey, and join me in this doomed adventure. I am at fault, and I will take the letter.’
He drank off his wine, and stood up.
‘And now with your permission I will go to bed.’
It was not until he was lying in the hanging cot in the coach, alone and in darkness, that the full and terrible extent of what had befallen his ship came home to him. That he had survived without serious injury, other than bruises and had been found and rescued was indeed a miracle. The fate of his people, and Foxhound herself, was a bitter calamity, a deep and bitter sorrow.
It was only the thought of Catherine waiting for him at home, at Melton House, that saved him from despair.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
In London James went at once to the Admiralty in Whitehall, and saw first the Third Secretary Mr. Driscoll, then hastily summoned Mr. Havelock Symonds.
That the mission had failed, with the loss of Foxhound and all one hundred and twenty men of her complement, was in itself a blow but not a very great blow to their lordships, and to the nation, as Mr. Driscoll indicated to James. Such losses were in the scheme of things, in time of war. They were not uncommon at sea at any time, in truth. As a matter of course James would be required to face a court martial to explain the loss of his ship, &c., &c. but that was purely routine, and there was no great shame attached. In other words Mr. Driscoll who was not privy to the detail and purpose of the commission did his best to be re-assuring, and conciliatory, in what was clearly a time of difficulty .
The failure of the venture was on the other hand a very great blow indeed to Mr. Havelock Symonds, and the Fund.
When Mr. Driscoll had withdrawn, and Mr. Symonds was alone with James:
‘I cannot understand Captain Rennie’s absence.’ The tip of Mr. Symond’s thin nose was livid. His face was very stern. ‘Why did not he come with you? Why ain’t he here?’
‘Captain Renn--’
‘And why did not he write the letter?’ Waving it.
‘We wrote it together. I said that I would bring it to London because Captain Rennie is much engaged at Portsmouth. Thirty of his people are lying wounded at the Haslar. By the time we reached the harbour Expedient was afloat only because of watch on watch pumping by every able man aboard, including Captain Rennie, that was himself wounded in the action. He is exhausted, and should in truth be lying abed at the hospital.’
‘Yes yes, very well.’ Impatiently. ‘You have made your point, Sir James.’
‘Captain Hayter will do, if y’please.’
‘Do not upbraid me, sir.’ Sharply. ‘It is for me to find fault in you, when you stand before me with nothing in your hand but dross.’
‘The dross, as you are pleased to call it, ain’t in my hand now, but yours.’ James, equally sharp. ‘You are the architect of this venture, a venture conducted from the outset in deceit, subterfuge, and foolish masquerade not against the enemy, but your own men, your own side. A venture that has unsurprisingly failed. On your head be it that an hundred and twenty good men are lost, in consequence.’
‘I have not done the deed, sir!’ Mr. Symonds. ‘I have not deliberately disobeyed my instructions! Deliberately interrupted my duty to engage in an wholly absurd and unnecessary sea battle, and then run home cowering and sorrowful to England, when I should have gone to Naples! Nay, I have not failed! That is you, sir! That is your insufficiency, at great cost to the nation!’
James drew himself up and was furiously silent a moment, his eyes on Mr. Symonds. Then, very quietly:
‘You were not there, I think, when those brave men were killed.’
He took up his hat, turned on his heel, and went to the door.
Mr. Symonds opened his mouth to issue further rebuke, and to require James to remain then closed his mouth and let him go.
The door banged shut.
Mr. Symonds sighed, threw down the letter on the table, and walked to the window. To himself:
‘In course he is quite right .I was not there .when I should have been there, by God. I should have gone with them. If I had we should now be at Naples, and our man secured.’
As soon as he had left Mr. Driscoll’s office, James hurried downstairs and out of the Admiralty building. He had travelled up to London overnight, with very little sleep, he was tired and had a headache, but he did not intend to stop in London. He had done his duty and made his report, and now he had urgent business elsewhere.
He went at once to the livery stable off the Strand, hired a post chaise and postillion, and set off to drive to Melton House. Since his own brush with death in Foxhound he had been far less sanguine about the safety of Catherine and his mother. It was his duty now to be with them, and if necessary protect them.
At Portsmouth Captain Rennie after arranging for an emergency dry docking for Expedient had taken his usual room at the Marine Hotel. From there he sent word to Sylvia in Norfolk both to their house in Fakenham, and to her cousin’s house at Norwich tha
t he was returned to England, and inquiring after her wellbeing. He would come to Norfolk as soon as he was able. In the meanwhile he enjoined her to repair to her cousin’s house immediate. Or, if she was yet there at his house to remain. He asked her to write in reply, at once. He would explain everything as soon as they could be together.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Captain Rennie waited anxiously at Portsmouth. Waited on word from his wife Sylvia at Norwich, that she was safe and well; on word from Captain Hayter;
on word from their Lordships, or Mr. Symonds, as to his probable fate. He had saved his ship and most of his people but he had failed in the overall.
‘Likely I will be sent home. Likely I shall be on the beach permanent. Well well, perhaps that will be no bad thing. I have spent all my days until now attempting to do my duty, and to serve the King. Nay, a life of retirement ain’t so poor a thing, seen in the round. Unless, in course, they chose to court martial me for dereliction. They will certainly court martial James. They will be obliged to court martial him. He has lost his ship. However, I have not. Nay, I have not .’
He fretted, and was anxious, and filled his time by visiting the dockyard to observe the repair to his ship, and by crossing to the Haslar Hospital by ferry to see his wounded men, and ask after their progress. His own scalp wound no longer troubled him. His concern was for his people. Twice he tried to see the hospital’s physician, Dr. Stroud, who was very busy but on the third occasion found time to see Rennie in his office. Rennie asked Dr. Stroud about his former ship’s surgeon, Dr. Thomas Wing, with whom both men had a long acquaintance; Dr. Wing had been Dr. Stroud’s student at the hospital.
‘I have not seen him recent.’ Dr. Stroud’s lean frame, close cropped grey hair and small round spectacles gave him an air of severity. Rennie knew him to be a man of compassion and intelligence, and deep understanding.
‘I thought he had returned to you here, doctor.’ Surprised.
‘For a time he did return. Then he departed. He is a very independent fellow.’
Rennie thought he detected dissatisfaction, even displeasure, in Dr. Stroud’s tone.
‘I hope that he did not leave under a cloud .?’
‘Eh? Cloud?’ Sharply.
‘Well, I know that you and he--’
‘What?’ Again sharply, his spectacles glinting.
‘That you was great friends .at one time.’
‘Friends? Hmff.’
‘Forgive me it ain’t my business.’
‘There is no business, one way or t’other. He is gone from the Haslar. And I am not. Now, Captain Rennie, how may I serve you, sir?’
‘Well I merely wished to learn the recent progress of my wounded people.’
‘They are as well as can be expected. None that has survived thus far will die.
One man did die, yesternight. That was altogether foreseen.’
‘I am very sorry to hear it. Will you tell me his name?’
Dr. Stroud searched his desk, found a list, and:
‘Yes, name of .Allerton.’
‘Good God. Richard Allerton, landman idler?’
‘Aye, that is the man. He had took a heavy fragment of metal to the left temporal lobe. He never regained his senses.’
‘Good God. I never saw him here, with the others.’
‘He was kept in a separate chamber.’
‘My surgeon never told me he was badly wounded. That he had been wounded in the action at all. I had thought he had gone ashore safe with the rest of the people. What am I to say to his father ?’
‘His father? You know a landman idler’s family?’ Looking up from the list.
‘His real name was not Allerton, doctor. Nor was he a landman idler.’
‘I don’t follow you, Captain Rennie.’ Removing his spectacles.
‘It is a long story, and a vexed one. His real name was Allbright, and he was a lieutenant of Marines. His father is Admiral Allbright.’
‘I see.’
‘He should not have been serving in my ship to begin. He would not listen. He .it is all very unfortunate.’
‘To say the least. Death often is.’ The ghost of a smile.
‘Well well .in least I did not flog him, the poor fellow.’ Half to himself.
‘Did y’say flog, Captain Rennie?’ Peering at him.
‘Mm? No no, I was thinking with my tongue, so to say. It is nothing. Thankee, doctor. I will call again tomorrow, if I may.’ Turning toward the door.
‘By all means, certainly.’
Pausing at the door. ‘Will there be a burial service ?’
‘It has already been done. It is the usual practice, here at the hospital. The chaplain presides, it is all done very prompt.’ He put down the list on his desk, and: ‘I would in usual write to the man’s family .but in view of the circum-stances, perhaps you will like to do so.’
‘Yes, I will. I will do so. God knows what I shall say, how I shall explain ..but I will do it. Good day, doctor.’
‘Good day, Captain Rennie.’
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
James should have remained in London, as Mr. Driscoll at the Admiralty had politely required him to do, in order to be informed in the particulars of his court martial. He should have made his obedience to their Lordships and waited on their pleasure as to dates and times.
That he did not do so, that he went home instead was a mark against him, so far as their Lordships were concerned.
James did not care.
The calamity of Foxhound, and all his dark thoughts since, had turned him against the strict requirements of the service, and alerted him acutely to his private responsibility. His duty to his family.
He reached Melton on the night of the day following his interview at the Admiralty, after an exhausting journey. They had pressed on night and day; there had been several changes of horses, and the postillion was cold, tired and miserably wet, the last part of the journey having been travelled in steady rain. James paid him in full, added a generous gratuity, and gave instruction that he should be handsomely fed and given a bed in the servants’ quarters.
He then hurried anxiously to Catherine, and found her perfectly well and content and overjoyed to see her husband again so soon. They embraced, then James:
‘And my mother?’
‘I saw her this morning. She is in good health, and good spirits. She goes to-morrow to Bath a few days.’
‘Thank God.’
‘What is the matter?’ Now as he turned into the light she saw the bruises on one side of his face. ‘You are hurt. What has happened? Why have you come back so soon?’
‘Have you either of you suffered any difficulty since we sailed?’
‘Difficulty ?’
‘Anything untoward? Strangers seen prowling about? Men making threats?’
‘Good heaven, no .we are quite safe here at Melton.’
‘Thank God.’
‘Now you begin to frighten me, James. What has happened?’
‘I think it is all part of the same. Was part of it, but that now I am come home, and it has all fallen down .we may be left alone.’
This peculiar speech so bewildered Catherine that she began to doubt her husband’s condition of mind. He saw her puzzlement, and her fear, and at once launched into an explanation.
He told her the circumstances of the failed commission the attacks both he and Rennie had suffered aboard their ships, the sea actions, the loss of Foxhound, and his supremely fortunate escape and rescue without revealing anything of the mission itself, save that their destination had been Naples.
‘The reason I was so fearful for your safety was the threat made by the man that attacked me in my cabin. When it is added to all of the other assaults that have occurred since this damned commission was first proposed they are all part of the whole, I am certain. The footpads in London, and the man that broke into our room at Mrs. Peebles’ hotel, then various other incidents at Portsmouth .they are all linked. They are all the work of the same p
eople, that wished to deflect us from our design, and prevent its success. Well, they have done it. The mission has failed. My one consolation is that you are unharmed, and that we are both safe at home. Thank God.’
‘Then in course I am glad, my darling .for us both .but will not their Lordships wish--’
‘I do not care what they wish.’ His tone hardening. ‘I do not owe the navy my duty any more. I have risked my life many times, and now all that is over and done. I am a man of property, a man of standing. My place is here, at home. Their Lord-ships may go to the devil.’
‘I am glad.’ She smiled at him, and held his hand. ‘And I am certain Mrs. Rennie is glad in her turn.’
‘I will resign forthwith, and never go to sea again.’
‘Will Captain Rennie do the same?’
‘What William does is his affair, you know but I expect that he will. We have both been used very ill. Time and again ill used, but always faithful and loyal,
no matter the task, no matter the burden. No more.’ Shaking his head. ‘Never again.’
‘I am glad.’
‘I shall drink a glass of wine, in celebration.’ And he rang the bell.
When the wine came an excellent claret and he raised his glass to his lips, he found the taste sour.
‘This bottle is spoiled,’ he complained. He put the glass down on the table, and rang the bell again.
Waddle, his butler his father’s butler was apologetic, and puzzled.
‘I am very sorry, sir. It is the last bin of the ‘eighty, that I had kept aside particular. I thought it had aged excellent. It is this one bottle alone, I believe, that is corked. I will bring another at once.’
‘Nay, Waddle, nay .it ain’t the wine, after all, it is my palate. My palate is spoiled, from travel and fatigue.’
‘Oh very good, sir. Shall I carry it away ?’
‘Nay, leave it there .I may return to it in a moment or two.’
‘Very good, sir. Erm may I say again, how very well it is to see you home safe, sir.’
‘Thankee, Waddle. I am here to stay, this time. I shall not go away again.’
The Following Wind Page 17
