by David O'Neil
Martin took advantage of the moment and stepped forward lifting the knife as he moved. With the point touching Carter’s throat he said, “Let us collect your friend and step below.”
He took the club and added it to the knife while Carter dragged Allan to the cabin door and through to the saloon. With his hands and ankles bound, Carter sat looking sullenly at Martin as he tied Allan.
“Now, let’s have a chat.” Martin said quietly.
Carter looked at him. “What about. We was just going to ask for a passage back to England. We missed out ship. Bloody skipper sailed early and left us on the quay.”
“Coming back from overseas, where were you coming from?” Martin asked.” The only ship through here during the past week or so was coming from Jamaica.”
“That was it. We were coming back from Jamaica.”
“Out there long were you?” Martin asked.
“Couple of years.” Carter said.
“You were inside, were you?”
“No, we were out all the time.”
“You seemed to have missed out on the sunshine there.”
Carter’s shoulders slumped, realizing he had been tricked. “What did you want to know?”
“You got away with Barrat and Rowland?”
“They could not manage on their own, so they got us to help, saying they would give us money when we got out. I reckon we were lucky to survive. The bastards tipped the boat when we came through the harbor entrance. Allan hadn’t told them he could swim. He was my mate and he dragged me to a ladder. We got out of the water; they were gone.
“We laid-up in a storage shed overnight, managed to get our clothes dry beside a furnace. All we could find to eat was some potatoes. We had no money. That’s why we were here.”
Martin nodded thoughtfully. “Have you seen the other two since you came ashore?”
“Oh, yes. We saw them alright. They didn’t see us. They were all dressed up in posh clothes, with swords and ladies all about. We decided to stay low.”
Martin made a decision. He leaned forward and cut the bonds round his wrists. “Right then, I have some things for you to do. Cut your friend loose and tell him he can stop trying to kid me that he is still unconscious. I’ll get some food for you both and then I’ll tell you what I want you to do.”
Carter looked at his unbound hands trying to decide what to do. Allan’s voice came from his place on the floor. “Well, get a move on. Cut me loose. I’m bloody starving here.”
Carter shook himself. “Always thinking of you stomach, greedy sod.” But he bent down and wielded the knife to cut his friend loose.
When Martin came through with the bowl of stew and the lumps of bread, they were both sitting at the saloon table. Allan had a bump on his head but, apart from that, was none the worse from the pistol butt.
“While you eat this I will tell you what you will do for me. In return I will tell you what I will do for you. In the immediate future I will need you to observe and find out the whereabouts of your two erstwhile companions. I presume you will not feel the need to protect Rowland and Barrat. The reason for this exercise is to kill them both as they have attacked my family and others of my friends. Here they have murdered others already. Do you have any problem with this?”
Carter grinned. “I’m quite happy to see them gone. They left us for dead without a qualm. I’ll help you put the knife in.”
Allan was more restrained. “They never did pay us, for helping them escape and all.
“Then, when we were in the water, Rowland looked straight at me, ignored me and left me to die. They didn’t know I could swim. I grabbed Carter and brung him ashore. I had decided that they would pay for that. We earned our part of the bargain, getting them out of the pokey. They owe us for that. I don’t mind if you kills them. Wouldn’t mind if I had a hand in it neither!”
Martin looked at the pair and was comforted by the fact that he had his pocket pistol and sword to hand.
“If all goes well there may be a way for you to get clear of pursuit to the Americas. I can probably arrange it if you like. Returning to England means you will always be looking over your shoulder for the hand of the law. In America you can forget that and make a new start if you wish. It is up to you.”
In the ‘White Swan’ the two ladies were discussing tactics over their meal. In the corner of the dining room two men were having a meal and conversation in high good humour. Their voices rose and fell. Alouette realized that there were French words scattered throughout their conversation and made some effort to hear what they were saying.
As they got up to leave the dining room they were able to hear the conversation of the men. There was a misunderstanding over a word which one could not understand and the other could not explain. Alouette said, “Excuse me, gentlemen. What this gentleman is saying is, he has no opinion about Free Ireland. He believes it is an issue for the Irish to resolve.”
She took Fitz’s arm and they left the room, leaving the two men dumbstruck at the intrusion and also at the lady’s ease of translation from French to English.
As the ladies reached the lounge of the hotel where they prepared to take tea before returning to the crystal shop, the men from the dining room appeared with the Maître.
He approached the ladies and said, “Pardon, ladies. The gentlemen wish to speak to you. I will be preparing your tea here while they make their request.”
Fitz said, “They may approach.”
The two men took the chairs opposite the ladies, and thanked them for their forbearance. The Frenchman started to speak in broken English.
Alouette held up her hand. “Please speak French if you wish. It will simplify the conversation.” She spoke in French.
The man broke in to a flood of French that Fitz and his companion could not follow. Alouette listened and replied in equally rapid French. Then she turned to Fitz and said in English, “This gentleman is here to help train local militia in the use of the French weapons they carry. His English is not up to it and he asks if I could interpret on occasion when he is discussing the program with this other gentleman.”
“Will there be a chaperone present?” She asked.
“They suggest you may wish to participate, at a fee for us both of course.”
“It could be arranged. Though I would point out that, with my business, it would need to be at my premises, for me to take part.”
Fitz turned to the maître who was serving the tea. “Thank you sir you have been most helpful. I think these gentlemen may be trusted. Please return to your duties with my thanks for your thoughtfulness.”
“For you, madam, as always. It has been a pleasure.” He bowed and withdrew, leaving the four people alone with their tea and conversation.
“Right,” Fitz said, “You can now speak frankly, the militia in this country are not trained to use French weapons. So I conclude you are training rebels seeking independence from England. Am I right?”
The Irishman reddened. The Frenchman obviously only got one word in three and looked blank.
Fitz continued, “Michael Connolly, I have known your big sister for 20 years. I knew you had been in trouble further north. I had not realized you were back here stirring things up for us in your home town,”
“Mrs. FitzGerald. I apologise for trying to pull the wool over your eyes. I thought you would not recognize me, it’s been several years.”
“So are we to get the truth or not?” Fitz took no prisoners.
“You are right, Bridget. We are training believers to work with the French army.” He leaned forward to speak confidentially.
Fitz held her hand up with blazing eyes. “You keep a respectable tongue in your head or this conversation finishes now. It’s Mrs. FitzGerald to you!”
“S…sorry, Mrs. FitzGerald. I did not mean to be familiar. Tis just that at home Maureen speaks of you…..”
“Your sister is my old school friend! What is this nonsense about the French army landing here? We have been thro
ugh all that before and it ended in disaster. What makes you think this will work any better?”
“Well, we are training properly this time and making better arrangements for the troops to land secretly.” Michael Connolly was getting most uncomfortable.
Alouette interrupted, “What did you really want of me?”
Connolly relieved, said, “We need to coordinate matters between the Captain here and our own leaders. So far it has been difficult. What Mrs. FitzGerald suggests would be very suitable if the offer is still on the table.”
Alouette considered. “Perhaps you should introduce me to your leaders. I am now acquainted with the French side.” She nodded at the Captain, “But I know nothing of your leaders.”
Now relaxing, under the impression he was taking control of matters once more, Michael Connolly said, “That is easily arranged. We can take my carriage.”
Alouette held her hand up at this. “You can stop right there. I will not be going anywhere in your carriage. You tell me where we can meet and I will tell you if it is acceptable or not.”
“Come now, madam. My people are very important. They cannot be pushed about at the whim…..”Connolly stopped, suddenly becoming aware of his mistake in his dealings with this lady, sitting helplessly and watching as Alouette allowed the Captain to assist her to her feet.
His misery was compounded by her words as she prepared to leave.
“Mr. Connolly, you go and speak to your superiors, whoever they are. Explain that if they truly need my assistance, they must send a grown man in a position to make arrangements to meet. Unless the place is public and acceptable to me, he need not waste his time. Am I clear, Mr. Connolly?”
Chastened, Connolly stood and confirmed that he would pass the message. He said his farewells, and departed accompanied by his French companion.
Chapter twenty-five
Where the wind blows
At the meeting in the glassware shop later that evening, Alouette was not so sure of her control of the situation. After all, they knew where she was but she had no idea where they were.
When the bell rang at the back door of the premises, Martin was immediately alert. He ushered Giles through the door into the dark passage to the stair to the upper floor. William answered the back door cautiously. A voice called saying the visitor was for the French-speaking lady.
He opened the door, pistol in hand. “Take care, sir. This is loaded.”
“Well, you can put it away, for I’m no threat and I am here by invitation of the lady herself.”
The man who entered was a big, broad-shouldered fellow with a mop of black hair, laughing blue eyes, and a ready smile that seemed to fill the room.
Alouette took one look and decided that this man was really dangerous. From the passage beyond, Martin and Giles sat and listened to the discourse between Alouette and the man who had introduced himself as Brian Casey.
“Why would I have the feeling that, if I asked for Brian Casey in this locality, they would have no idea who I was talking about?” Alouette sounded displeased. “If there can be no trust between us, I do not wish to know you, Mr. Casey!”
Her visitor stopped in his tracks, smile gone, his face like carved granite. Alouette saw the real man in those few seconds before the smile returned.
“Come now, madam. I have to protect myself and my family. Here, there are as many informers as there are patriots.”
Alouette conceded the point. “I suppose the word patriot is open to interpretation as well?”
“Why now, lady? I am impressed by your perspicacity. There are few enough people around here who at least have the brains to appreciate the difference. I think you are right and I accept that patriotism depends on your point of view.”
He indicated a chair. Alouette shrugged and nodded, and he seated himself.
“What did you want of me?” She asked. I am not a political person and, though I speak French, I am here to visit my friend, Mrs. FitzGerald. If translation is required I can do it, but I will not involve myself in any political activity.”
“I have enough people involved in those matters. All you would be needed for would be translating orders for our French people to use training the local militia.” Casey sat back, pleased with himself for edging round the core of this matter so skilfully. He was not pleased for long.
Alouette looked directly at him. “You are lying to me. Your very presence here is a danger to my friends. I think that if I do anything for you and your people I will be compromised and so will they. I believe you had that in mind from the start. You may leave as soon as you like, mister. Whoever you are. I told you before. If you have to lie to your friends, then whatever you are doing must be highly illegal and probably dangerous. It is obviously anti-government. So goodbye!”
Casey rose to his feet looking angry. “That is twice you have called me a liar, lady, and I will not stand for it.” He swung round and knocked the pistol from William’s hand. It hit the floor and went off with a bang. The ball flew through one of the glass displays, causing considerable damage, shattering several vessels.
The door burst open and two men rushed in from outside. Both had drawn swords in their hands. Through the gap in the part-opened door, Martin saw it was Rowland and another man, whom he guessed would be Barrat.
Casey grabbed Alouette by the arm. She did not struggle. She just looked coldly at Casey, then at the two men who had entered the room. “Were you worried I would attack you, Mr. Casey? You had these two thugs waiting to protect you, I presume.” Two more men entered and stood behind Rowland and Barrat. The three rebels neither heard nor realized they were there.
Alouette said, “What’s this? More problems, sir? I really cannot see why you should need my services with so many at your disposal.”
Startled, Casey looked round at the newcomers.
“They are not my men.” He stuttered.”
“In fact,” said Martin, coming through the inner door. “They are mine.”
Rowland and Barrat started to turn round, but both stopped at the touch of the knife to their necks.
“Who might you be then?” Casey recovered fast, still holding Alouette’s arm.
Martin’s sword lifted and pricked the back of Casey’s hand causing him to release his grip.
Rowland sensed a moment of inattention from Allan who was interested in what was happening elsewhere in the room. He knocked the knife aside and lunged forward at Alouette. Martin shouldered Casey aside. “Take him, Allan!” and flicked the blade of Rowland’s sword aside, so that it missed Alouette completely. Giles grabbed her and pulled her out of danger. Martin engaged the sword of Rowland who had a pleased look on his face at the chance to kill this man who had beaten him so badly in London.
Allan had Casey under his knife in the corner. Carter had Barrat. Martin and Rowland fought back and forth at the other end of the room, boots crunching on broken glass as they stepped to and fro, blades flicking back and forth. Each looking for the opening that would allow them to inflict injury.
Unaccustomed to drawn-out sword fights, Rowland began to feel the pace. Long practice sessions did not prepare you for an extended fight to the death. For Martin the reverse was true. There were no breathers permitted when fighting for your life on the deck of a warship.
Sensing he was beginning to tire, Rowland became more and more desperate, his sword heavy in his hand. Martin slapped his sword across Rowland’s blade and pierced his forearm.
Rowland cried out and dropped his weapon. He clutched his arm to stop the pulse of blood that came from the wound. Alouette grabbed a cloth from the table and hastily wrapped it round the wound, and used a table knife to twist the cloth tight and slow the bleeding. “Hold that!” She said and went and fetched a roll of muslin that the glassware was packed in for shipping. Efficiently she wrapped the wound tightly using the original cloth as a pad, and holding it in place with the wrapping of muslin.
“There,” she said, “You’ll make it to the colonies
yet.”
There were few complications following the confrontation at the glass shop. Rowland and Barrat were given the choice of keeping their lives, and continuing their broken journey to the colonies, or an unmarked grave in the cold waters of the Atlantic. The cold eyes of their captor offered no mercy. Unsurprisingly, they chose to live and were detained in the local jail to await the next convict ship to call at Cobh. Allan and Carter, who now regarded Martin with awe, were despatched incognito from Bristol to London for examination and eventual employment, by Mr. Smith, who declared an interest in their qualifications for a place within the framework of his operations.
Martin, Giles, and Alouette, having left the ketch at Bristol, travelled more sedately to London and, having delivered their reports and Alouette to Mr. Smith, returned to their families.
HMS Diane was in Chatham having attention to her rigging after a skirmish with enemy ships during her Baltic excursion during Martin’s absence. Acting Commander Reed, Martin’s first lieutenant, was looking forward to his own command as soon as Martin resumed his place on the Diane.
It was three weeks later that the Lieutenant received his first command, the captured French corvette Charlotte was commissioned, renamed and classified as 24 gun sloop HMS Diomede, Lieutenant Hammond of the cutter Daisy, in command. Lieutenant Reed was given command of HMS Daisy, much to his delight.
HMS Diane was found to be suffering from stressed frames which resulted in their working loose where they were seated in her keel. The consequent leaking in the strained planking as a result meant major repair or breaking up. The entire crew were therefore transferred to the recently completed 38 gun frigate HMS Fox, a new bigger class of frigate carrying heavier guns, the 32x18pounder broadside guns being combined with the six 24pounder carronades. It was one of the complexities of the classification system used, that the two bow chasers and the pair of stern chasers were omitted from the designation of the class. All four guns were 12 pounders, and a significant enhancement to the ship’s firepower. In addition the transferred crew were not regarded as sufficient in number for the bigger craft A draft of an additional 90 men including a replacement First Lieutenant, and two junior lieutenants arrived at the quayside in Chatham to report on board.
