Quarterdeck

by David O'Neil

  Corot squirmed in the chair. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

  Martin looked at Carter, who bent forward and rapped Corot on the knee with a riding crop. Corot started in shock. “I would have told her tonight,” he said hastily.

  Martin sat back. He had not realised that Colette’s parents were dead. Instinct had led him to put the question. It was an answer that told him much.

  “Tell me where will they ambush Alouette?”

  “How do I know? I was not aware that they will.”

  “Corot, I know you are working for France. I also know that you betrayed Alouette and the arrangements we have made for her retrieval.”

  Corot shrugged and looked sulky. “I cannot say. How would I know? I am not in France. They will decide there.”

  “And Peter Vardy, if they are going to take Peter at the same time then you must know where that will take place. I will let Carter ask you. I know he will enjoy watching you suffer. For me there is no pleasure in this.” He rose from his chair as if to leave the room.

  “Please! No. Don’t go, sir. That man is a fiend.”

  “Yes. I cannot stay to watch. But you will be talking when I return, and we will speak again.”

  Corot was desperate, watching Carter as he drew out a long thin bladed knife. “I’ll just skin him a little first, sir, to encourage him like.”

  Martin had his hand on the door handle when Corot broke. “Please, sir. I think it will be at Vattetot-sur-Mer. The pick-up place is a favourite for Peter Vardy and the rendezvous was mentioned when Alouette left. There is a message place in the Patisserie. She will call there and they will follow from there to the boat on the beach.”

  “When, and what time?” Martin asked.

  “I do not know,” Corot said.

  Martin turned to leave once more

  “No, I don’t, I think, two days at between seven hours and eight hours,” he said hastily.

  Martin stared at him, thinking. Then he decided. “Lock him up!” He said to Carter, “Get Allen. We will go and see what we can do.”

  ***

  Up in the office once more, Martin went to Mr.. Hervey, Mr.. Smith’s assistant. He explained about the prisoner Corot, and warned him about the Dutchman.

  “I will take Carter and Allan and go to France to stop the capture of Alouette and Peter Vardy.”

  Mr.. Hervey, the rather severe man who ran the house, looked at him seriously. “Take the girl. She could be useful as a diversion.”

  “Colette?”

  “Yes. I think it will be a good test of her story. In addition it will give you an idea about her future employment.”

  ***

  The little cutter swam into the silted, coastal waters off Fecamp, on the French coast. The dusk of evening was causing images to blur as the small party boarded the gig to make their way to the beach. Peters, Martin’s servant, had, as always, accompanied him. He was at the tiller, while the four extra hands from the crew of the cutter took oars and rowed the party ashore. They landed in the shadow of a rocky outcrop, and Martin checked that all were ready, prepared for the operation they had planned. With Colette, Collins and Allen, Peters and the four hands from the cutter, the party of nine made their way up the beach to the point where the road through the village of Yport, wound its way to the town of Fecamp, half a mile away to the north.

  The information they had was that Peter Vardy would be meeting Alouette in the small bar in the village this evening. Colette had volunteered to see what she could find out in the bar.

  Martin looked at her, “When were you last in France?” He said.

  “Three years ago!” She said puzzled.

  “Things are a little different now I’m afraid. Any new face is suspect and in a small village like this, on the coast, you would be in front of the local magistrate before you could give your name. To arrive here in passing, you have to have transport, a reason to be there. I will take a look at things and report back. Collins, keep an eye on things.”

  “Will do, sir. This area seems quite good for the moment.” He indicated the small paddock that was hidden from the road and the buildings of Yport, by a barn, and store. He led the party to shelter against the back wall of the barn.

  Martin and Peters made their way to the bar. Without going in, they were able to see inside, through the open doors. Alouette was seated in the corner near the window. She was opposite someone Martin did not recognise. He did not think the man was a friend.

  From the direction of Etretat to the south there came the sounds of someone coming.

  Martin turned to Peters. “Fetch Collins and two of the men. Leave Allen with Colette and with one of the men, send the other to get the boat in the water and ready for us.”

  Peters thrust his pistol into Martin’s hand. “I’ll leave that with you, sir. I’ll be back.” He disappeared without a sound.

  Martin took a closer look at the people in the bar. There were two other men there and there was no barman in sight. The sound of the approaching man was becoming more obvious, so Martin decided to move. Holding Peters’s pistol behind him, he stepped up to the bar door and through into the lighted room. Alouette made no sign that she knew who he was. The man sitting opposite her stirred suspiciously but he had only started to lift his pistol when Martin brought his into view and pointed at his face. When the other two men started to move, he lifted Peters’s weapon and pointed it at them. Alouette reached forward and removed her companion’s pistol.

  She covered him while Martin told the other two to sit beside their friend. He relieved them of two pistols and three knives. The sword carried by their leader, was added to the hoard.

  Alouette said, “There is a store at the back.” Between them they herded the trio into the store room and barred the door.

  Peter Vardy entered on the run. “There are soldiers on the road behind me. I heard them where I started to run.”

  “Let’s go then. We might find it difficult otherwise.”

  As he spoke he realised it was too late. The soldiers were almost at the door.

  He snatched the pistol from Alouette. “Sit! Both of you. You are my prisoners. Understand?”

  He did not wait for them to acknowledge, He called to the soldiers at the door. “Here, you, come and take charge of these prisoners.”

  The first two soldiers came in and stood with muskets poised, watching Alouette and Peter.

  Martin went to the door. “Where is your officer?” he called arrogantly.

  “I am coming. I am here.” The portly Sergeant/ Chef puffed his way to Martin who stood at the door of the bar, attaching the sword taken from the secret agent, currently locked in the store room.

  “Have you no transport?” Martin said in an angry voice. “I ordered a carriage to transport the prisoners to Le Havre. Where is it?”

  “I, I do not know, sir. Nobody told me.”

  Martin skewered the unhappy Sergeant with his sternest look. He then said quietly, “Send for one, now!”

  “Yes, sir. Immediately. Lebrun, run back to the barracks and fetch the carriage.”

  The soldier detailed, ran off still clutching his musket.

  Martin then started on the soldiers standing panting outside the bar.

  “Fall your men in, Sergeant!”

  “Sir, yes, sir. Fall in. Fall in. “He shouted harrying the men into two lines.” The eight men stood in line, while Martin brought the two prisoners outside, and instructed the two guards to fall in with the others.

  Behind the line of soldiers, Peters, Collins, and two of the hands appeared. All were armed. They all eased back into the shadows without being seen by the soldiers.

  “Sergeant! A moment, please.”

  The sergeant came over to Martin, who led him out of direct sight of the men. Once there he produced his knife which he used to stress his instructions. Putting the point to the tip of the man’s nose, he said quietly. “I have four pistols pointed at you.” He nodded at the place where P
eters stood, pistol in hand. The others rose into view with their own pistols on show.

  The sergeant gulped.

  “Now you have no need to worry, as long as you do as I say. Nod, if you understand me.”

  The sergeant nodded.

  Martin smiled, “Good man.” He put his hand around the Sergeant’s shoulder and as they walked he said “Tell the men to relax until the carriage arrives.”

  Alouette and Peter were now seated on a bench on front of the bar.

  She spoke for the first time. “This is all a mistake. I am here to visit my daughter in Fecamp. I stopped for refreshment and my escort has gone. I do not know where?”

  She looked helpless and appealing.

  “Your escort, madam? The horses and carriage perhaps?” Martin’s sarcastic comment made it quite clear that he did not believe her.

  So Alouette wept, wringing her hands. She turned to the soldiers, “Please, help me. This man is mistaken.”

  The soldiers looked uncomfortable, most turned away from her. With most looking elsewhere, she and Vardy simply walked away from the assembly in front of the bar. They were joined by Peters and his party. The sergeant would have said something but the prick of the knife dissuaded him. Since their sergeant said nothing, the soldiers stirred, but said and did nothing, waiting for their leader to act.

  Martin left the sergeant on his own, with a final warning that he was in the sights of the pistols and to say and do nothing.

  He walked into the bar and made his way out of the back door. Then he ran for his life as the sergeant regained his nerve and called for his men to run to the beach.

  “Stop them. They are English. It is a trick.” Confused, but getting the message, the brightest of the soldiers snatched up their muskets and ran past the bar toward the beach beyond.

  On the beach the boat was in the water. The two women were in, already aboard, as the others piled in. The oars were out holding the boat while Peters waited for Martin to arrive.

  As Martin came near, Peters raised his pistol and fired at the nearest of the soldiers. He then used three other pistols to shoot, and slow down the soldiers even more.

  As he boarded the boat after Martin, the pursuit was even more hampered by the soldiers’ efforts to bring their muskets into action. Having run to the bar from the next village and then from the bar to the beach, most of the muskets had lost their loads. The first three to try a shot were misfires. The next musket fired, but the ball went elsewhere, certainly not into the boat.

  Then the boat was out of effective range. The muskets, not being in the best order anyway, were generally regarded as a volley weapon, rather than a sharpshooter’s gun. The detachment of soldiers involved were conscripts drawn from the local area.

  On the cutter Peter Vardy asked to be taken to the village of Etretat, to collect his boat. He had left it with his crew, plus a load of contraband. “I will not be able to continue in this area for a while. I knew the sergeant and he knew me.”

  ***

  The result of the excursion to Yport and Fecamp was that Peter transferred his attention to an alternative contact point at Criel-sur-Mer between Dieppe and Le Treport.

  It had become far too dangerous for Alouette to continue her visits to France. She had become too well known to the French, and there were notices posted for her whereabouts the length of the Channel coast.

  She elected to train Colette to take over the courier activity which had been her task up to now. Colette, up to then had been not as committed as some of the others. When she discovered that her parents had been executed, that all changed. Her education was undertaken and Alouette found her an apt student.

  Martin was becoming increasingly restless. When Mr.. Smith returned, Alouette went to see him on the subject.

  “Captain Forest-Bowers has done what he came here for. Unless there is some other task he should undertake, would it not be better for him to renew his naval duties?”

  Mr.. Smith sat back in his chair, regarding Alouette, who sat opposite him at the other side of his desk.

  “Why? I do recall it was you suggested that we utilise the services of the Captain, a matter which I believe fortuitously coincided with the extreme illness of his wife.”

  The gentle sarcasm of his comment did not disturb the steady gaze of the Frenchwoman one bit. She replied briskly, “The task for which we required him, has been accomplished, with the dispatch and efficiency that Sir Martin applies to all the challenges that he has faced to my knowledge.”

  Plain Mr.. Smith held his hand up. “I have received the message. I will either find another task for him to perform, or, as you suggest return him to his beloved quarter-deck. Would that settle the matter for you?”

  As Alouette rose to her feet she said, “I felt it was important to keep these matters current. I understand you are busy with many things on your mind at all times. It is important to see that the organisation continues to run smoothly. Mr.. Hervey does his best with the actual building and accommodation, but in fact, you direct the staff personally. I beg you consider delegating that task to another.”

  Smith waved her back to her seat. “Who would you suggest for such a position?”

  Alouette looked at him sharply. “You are asking me for a suggestion?”

  “I am.” Smith replied.

  “I think you are playing games with me. I am just an agent. What do I know?”

  Mr.. Smith sat back in his chair, a small smile on his face. “You are, Mme Alouette, probably the most accomplished spy in my entire organisation. You know the work we do, and not only why, but how, also. You sum up peoples’ characters better than anyone else I know. So tell me, Alouette. Who should I appoint to this position?”

  Stunned, Alouette sat in her chair. “You cannot mean me?”

  “Why not?”

  “But I am a woman.” She wished Smith would leave it alone. It was a man’s job.

  “What are you saying? You are less intelligent than a man?”

  “The men will not accept orders from a woman.” The suggestion was insane.

  “Could you do the job?” Smith would not leave the matter.

  “Probably, but…!”

  “But what? Ask yourself. Is there anyone better than you here in the office?”

  Alouette thought for what seemed ages. In fact it was two minutes. Then she nodded her head. “Very well. I will take the job. But, remember, I warned you.”

  Chapter 4

  Deep waters

  For Martin, apart from the short sharp events of the cross channel visit, life lacked the challenge of his real profession. His steps took him once more to the villa opposite the park, to enquire whether he might be released from Mr.. Smith’s employ. The past two months had been employed with the finding and setting up of the cross-channel service. Now that aspect of operations was firmly in the charge of Peter Vardy, who was well able to manage without Martin’s further input.

  There had been a rumour of change in the air, but nobody had communicated any suggestion of the nature of the changes.

  Today he had been called to confer. There had been no word of the subject of the meeting, just the simple date and time.

  He was greeted as usual by the imperturbable Mr.. Hervey, who ushered him into the drawing room of the house. Inviting Martin to sit, he rang the bell to apparently signal for serving coffee. The appearance of the maid with the steaming pot and crockery was within seconds of the summons.

  Martin seated himself, mystified. This was far removed from the normal, rather strict business manner, which he was accustomed to in this house.

  The arrival of Alouette brought him to his feet. Having seen her seated, the departure of Mr. Hervey seemed to indicate there was purpose in the setting involving the two friends alone.

  Alouette poured the coffee and passed him the cup before serving herself.

  Martin realised that she was using the moment to prepare herself.

  “You look well, my dear,” he commented
. “I detect there is a certain reticence in your manner which I associate with bad news?”

  Alouette looked up at him sharply. “Has anyone been in touch with you from here?”

  Martin recoiled. “Absolutely not! Why would you suggest such a thing? My only contact with this establishment is through Mr.. Smith, and yourself.”

  Alouette relaxed. “Oh, Martin. I am so sorry. This has been a difficult time for me. I am still finding my, how do you put it, ‘my feet’!”

  “What has happened? You know you can trust me. Tell me what are you so troubled about?”

  “Mr.. Smith has passed over control of the organisation to me.”

  She sat back, lifted the coffee cup to her lips and emptied it.

  Martin sat back and, smiled. “Oh, is that all?” he said with relief. “I was worried that some disaster may have occurred. It is long overdue. It was apparent that you were far better qualified for this operation than he.”

  “But, Martin, I did not know. I am a woman. The men…”

  “Mr.. Smith created this group to protect our nation. Despite all, he knew someone had to do this. In the absence of any one else willing to undertake it, he stepped in and created the organisation.

  “He has been searching for the right person to run it ever since. After you joined, it became apparent that you had the talent, and the will. Also you were able to oversee several operations at the same time. The only problem in his mind was the fact that you were a woman. It took him time to realise that you could control your staff better than he could. Fait accompli.”

  Martin sat back and drank his coffee. “So, Cherie, why am I here?”

  Alouette sat for a moment and gathered her thoughts. Martin’s comments had been re-assuring. It was with a more settled mind she undertook her self-appointed task.

  “Martin, my dear, I believe you will be happy to hear that the department will no longer need your services at this time. I do not say that we may never ask you again, but I do assure you, you will never be ordered again. I would like to be able to call upon you for advice and assistance if it is convenient, but there will be no more official orders.”