'Ah.' The finger to his lips a moment. 'Ah. I fear that I am unable to divulge anything of my present visit to anyone but Captain Rennie.' The half-smile. 'I thank you for bringing me to the ship. Good day.'
'Good day? Good day? You are impertinent, sir, to a serving officer!'
'There is no need of your waiting for me in your boat, Admiral.' Mildly. 'Captain Rennie will send me ashore in one of his, I am in no doubt. Good day.'
'Damnation to that! I will not be dismissed like some bloody little midshipman! Not by you, sir, that ain't a sea officer, nor any kind of serving officer at all!'
'On the contrary, Admiral – and I am sorry to have to use the word again – on the contrary, I serve the nation's interest equal to you, or any officer in uniform. Do not imagine for one instant that I am incapable of defending my own interest, neither. Your boat is waiting. Good day.' He did not stand to emphasise his point, or even raise his voice, but simply sat back a little in his chair, and lifted his head to stare languidly at the admiral.
The admiral glared at him, glared at Rennie, and:
'Well, I'm damned.'
And having thus condemned himself he banged out of the cabin, pushing the sentry aside so vigorously that the man dropped his musket with a clatter. Presently, the sound of the boatswain's call; another moment, then 'Give way together!' and the admiral was gone.
Mr Mappin listened to the retreating wash of oars dragging through water, nodded, and pushed the letter he had brought across the table to Rennie.
'This difficulty arose because Their Lordships would insist upon poor Admiral Hapgood bringing your instructions himself. I tried to demur, and dissuade them, but to no avail. It was their feeling that your instructions were of sufficient importance to warrant a senior officer as messenger. They could not be persuaded that it would be demeaning to the poor fellow.'
'You have sympathy with him? When he insulted you?' Rennie, in surprise.
'In course, he felt that I had insulted him. He felt himself slighted. A younger man might well have called me out.'
'Well, that would simply have been foolish.'
'Foolish?' A glance.
'Well well, a man in your position, Mr Mappin, will not likely go about accepting absurd challenges, hey? They would be beneath you, hm?'
'You think that? At Cambridge I shot a man in the neck, whose own ball went wide, and he lived by pure luck. My ball missed the principal vein by half an inch. To this day he talks hoarse, though.'
'You have fought a duel? Good God. Forgive me for thinking you ... another kind of man.'
Rennie took up the letter, opened it and was about to read it; instead he frowned, turned from the table and:
'Cutton! Cutton, there!'
Presently: 'Sir?' Sidling in.
'Where the devil is our wine! You did not bring our Madeira wine!'
'No, sir, I did not, yes. The admiral was so very fierce that I did not like to hinterrup him, sir – for fear that he would of ate me.'
Rennie had to bite his lip to remain severe and keep his face straight. He cleared his throat.
'Hm. Hm. Y'may bring it now, Colley Cutton.'
When the wine had come and Rennie was busying himself with the tray, Mr Mappin:
'Before you read the letter I gave you, Captain Rennie, I should give you a piece of news.'
'News?' Pouring Madeira for himself, and taking a biscuit.
'Sir Robert Greer is dead.'
Rennie dropped the biscuit, and nearly spilled his wine.
'Good God. By God. He is dead.'
'It pleases you?' A tilt of the head.
'What? No.' A gulp of wine. Another. 'No, I ... I had thought him near invincible ...' He turned and stared at the stern gallery window.
'Perhaps it saddens you, Captain Rennie. Forgive me for having thought otherwise.'
Rennie, turning back to his visitor: 'I am neither happy nor sad, Mr Mappin. I am ... took aback, so to say.' Another swallow of wine, emptying the glass. 'So he is gone.' A deep sniffing breath, and looking more closely at Mr Mappin:
'Why did y'tell me y'didn't know him, at first? I knew the contrary at once, in course.'
'That was not my wish, Captain Rennie, and I regret it.' The half-smile. 'Read the letter, if you please.' Nodding at the letter lying on the table.
Rennie looked at him a further long moment, then took up the letter and read:
To be delivered into the hand of
Capt W. Rennie, RN, aboard HMS Expedient, at Portsmouth
You are to take into your ship, when he comes to you at Portsmouth, Mr Henry Tonnelier, as supernumerary. However, he may not be entered in the ship's books. The utmost discretion is to be exercised in yr dealings with him, & you are to accommodate him in every particular of his wants, wishes & duties, as they may be explained.
Hood
'And now glance over your instructions again, will you, Captain Rennie.'
Rennie poured himself another glass of wine, taking his time. He did not wish to appear to be acceding to Mr Mappin's demands too eagerly or compliantly. He lifted the bottle and raised his eyebrows to Mr Mappin.
'Will ye join me in a glass?'
'Thankee, nay.'
'You never drink wine, Mr Mappin?' As if slightly dismayed, and disappointed.
'Well, I do. But today I am – I do not want any.'
'Ah. I would not wish you to think that we are not hospitable in the Royal Navy.'
'No, I assure you, I had not thought that.'
'Very good.' Rennie pushed the bottle aside, took a pull of wine, and with an exaggerated frown of concentration took up his instructions and studied them, turning and holding them to the light. In truth he was very interested indeed in what they said, and in what the letter said. In these documents, so long awaited, rested the real purpose of his commission.
In part his instructions read:
... and having again given out as your Duty the Survey of the French coast, among your Officers & people, you will proceed to that coastline proximate to the port of Brest, and carry out such observation, examination and calculation commensurate with such Survey, until your passenger requires you to deliver him ashore – which undertaking will be explained to you in due course.
Your commission will follow in all distinctions the purpose contained in yr preliminary Instructions, excepting the matter referred to above, which be the underlying Cause and Reason for it.
You will treat these Instructions as entirely Confidential in nature. They must never leave your keeping at any time, nor will you discuss the matter herein given as the principal purpose with anybody in the ship, nor outside, saving the Govt representative that will vouchsafe to you further explication, as indicated above.
Rennie put the letter and the instructions aside, took another pull of wine, and:
'It is a very great mystery, Mr Mappin, even now, when I have read the letter and my instructions both. Will you enlighten me? Who is Mr Tonnelier? His name is French, if I'm not mistook.'
'His name is French. He is not.'
'Then who is he?'
'He will come tonight. You will meet him tonight.'
'Yes? I hope so. I will like to weigh in the forenoon tomorrow, when the tide is favourable.'
'He will come.' A confirming nod.
'And when he has come, and Expedient is at last at sea and we are heading for France, will he tell me why he is to be put ashore there?'
'He will.'
'You cannot tell me now?'
'I think not.'
Patiently, curbing his very great exasperation: 'Mr Mappin. Hm. I cannot understand why I am not be trusted with—'
Over him: 'Until you are at sea, Captain Rennie, the least said will be the safest thing.'
'Very well.' A shrug, a sigh. 'I am a simple sea officer, and I will do as I am told.'
'Thank you.'
'I will do my duty.' Leaning forward a little. 'But if I find that I have been hoodwinked, and muddled, and lied to delibe
rate, I shall come looking for you, Mr Mappin. You apprehend me?'
Mildly, the half-smile: 'Let me assure you—'
'Do you apprehend me, Mr Mappin?' Without raising his voice.
Mr Mappin lifted his head, and regarded Rennie narrowly. A moment, then a polite nod.
'I do, sir.'
SEVEN
The man who came into the ship shortly after nightfall, introduced himself to the officer of the deck, Mr Souter, and was duly brought aft, was very little like the young Lieutenant James Hayter who had shifted his coat at the Admiralty at Mr Mappin's request. Here was an older man, in beautifully cut clothes, with an air of prosperous gravitas. He wore a rather old-fashioned peruke, and a pair of gold-mounted spectacles. He had a neat grey beard. He moved with confidence and assurance past Mr Souter into the great cabin as Captain Rennie was sitting at a late supper with Lieutenant Makepeace. Captain Rennie rose to greet his passenger, who:
'I am Henry Tonnelier, and you, sir, are Captain Rennie, I believe?' His voice deliberately thin and rather hoarse, to disguise it.
'I am, sir, I am. Welcome aboard Expedient.'
'Thank you.' A bow, very correct. James was feeling far less confident than his outward manner proclaimed.
'Have you ate supper, Mr Tonnelier?'
'I have, thank you.'
'Yes, we are late tonight, I fear.' Turning. 'My first lieutenant, Mr Makepeace.'
Tom Makepeace, already on his legs: 'Your servant, sir.' A bow, slightly unsteady.
'Your servant.' Another bow, and James began to feel himself slightly ridiculous, but kept this entirely within.
Lieutenant Makepeace was flown with wine. He was about to resume his seat when something about the newcomer struck him, and:
'Have not we met before, Mr Tonnelier?'
'Nay, I think not.' James sat down in the chair pulled out for him by Colley Cutton.
'Well, if you say so.' Lieutenant Makepeace now sat down, then: 'But I could've sworn to the contrary, you know.' Dragging in his chair. 'You are not a lawyer, are ye, Mr Tonnelier?'
'I am not.' Politely. 'My business is silk. The silk trade.'
'Silk. Ah. No no, in course I am wrong – I am wrong, often – and I ... I have got you muddled with one of the lawyer fellows that dealt with my father's estate. Thomas Weddle Makepeace.'
'I know nothing of the law, I assure you.'
'A glass of wine with you, Mr Tonnelier.' Captain Rennie pushed the decanter. James allowed Cutton to fill his glass.
'Your health, sir.' Captain Rennie.
'Your health.' James swallowed wine, and was about to open his mouth to speak, when Lieutenant Makepeace broke in:
'Not to confuse the names, you know. That was my father's name, not the lawyer fellow's. His name I cannot recall.'
'No?' James, again very polite.
'No, but it was something like – like Barber, I think it was. Or Penrose – was it?'
'Mr Makepeace.' Captain Rennie.
'Sir?'
'Mr Tonnelier has no very great curiosity about your late father's estate, I think. Nor have I.'
'Very good, sir.' And Lieutenant Makepeace fell silent.
James bit his tongue, suppressed a terrible desire to guffaw, determinedly sucked down the remainder of his wine, and:
'We sail on the morrow, Captain Rennie?'
'We do, Mr Tonnelier. An hour after first light, as the tide aids us then.'
'Yes, the tide. I see.'
Lieutenant Makepeace felt that he had been silent sufficiently long. Swivelling his head:
'Forgive me, Mr Tonnelier, but are you interested in surveying work?'
'Surveying?'
'In ships, you know. We are going to France to carry out a comprehensive duty of survey. I thought perhaps—'
'I am a silk merchant, Mr Makepeace, as I have said.'
'Yes, in course, you did say that. Forgive my inattentive stupidity. Silk. Exact.'
'Another glass, sir?' Rennie pushed the decanter toward James, and glared at Lieutenant Makepeace, who failed to notice, and continued:
'Yes, do forgive me, and all that, Mr Tonnelier, but I do not quite follow what exactly it is that you—'
'Mr Makepeace!' Captain Rennie.
'Sir?'
'Kindly go on deck and relieve Mr Souter.'
'Relieve Mr Souter? But it ain't—'
'Do as you are told.' A freezing grimace of a smile. 'If you please.'
'Very good, sir. As you wish.' Lieutenant Makepeace rose, put down his napkin, nearly knocked over his wine, and pushed in his chair with a heavy scrape. 'Good night, sir. Good night, Mr Tonnelier.' And with careful dignity, walking very deliberate, he left the cabin.
'I am very sorry indeed that you was subjected to such infamous behaviour in one of His Majesty's ships, Mr Tonnelier.'
'Really, there is no need of an apology, Captain Rennie.'
'Mr Makepeace was grossly impertinent and intruding in his questions.'
'I am sure he meant no harm. I was quite at my ease.'
'I had thought to ask him to supper, and introduce you ...' Rennie paused, frowned, and:
'Excuse me a moment. Cutton! Colley Cutton!'
'Sir?' Sidling from the second quarter gallery, where he kept his kettle, tray, &c.
'Y'may go forrard to the fo'c's'le and smoke, if you wish. I will not need you again tonight.'
'Thank you, sir.' And he sidled across the cabin and left by the door.
'I must correct him of that habit of sidling.' Rennie, half to himself, and turning back to his guest: 'Yes, I wished Mr Makepeace to see that you were a perfectly ordinary sort of supernumerary passenger. Had I known he would very nearly recognise you, James, as I did ...'
'What!' His mouth open.
'Aye, James, aye. You did not think for a moment, did ye, that I would not see through this damned hocus pocus of a disguise, hey?'
'Good God ...' Thoroughly bemused, dropping all pretence, and pulling off the peruke.
'Mr Mappin is too fond of deceit. Ye should be wary of the fellow. But that is by the by, now. If we are to keep you in the ship as Mr Tonnelier, and get you safe across to France, we must continue to play along with that sphere of His Majesty's service, and maintain your disguise.'
'I – I am very sorry to have inflicted this nonsense upon you, sir, but Mr Mappin was most insistent. He – he recruited me, you know, when he heard that I was seeking employment, and before I knew what I had done, I had agreed to everything he asked. In course, you are entitled to an explication, and—'
Rennie held up a hand, shook his head, and mildly: 'Good heaven, my dear James, don't apologise, and there is no need for ye to explain your motive to me, neither. We are both caught up in his "nonsense", as ye call it, and must do our best. In least we are serving together again, hey? We had better examine your scheme, while we have this opportunity.'
James, still disconcerted: 'You mean, the—'
'Well well, we must have a plausible reason for your passage to France.' Equably. 'To give out among the people in the ship, and indeed my junior officers. I will like you to keep private in your quarters, but you cannot be wholly invisible in the ship.'
'Yes, sir, very well. It is the silk trade, just as I told Tom Makepeace. I go to France to consult with colleagues in the trade about the supply of silks and stuffs from the great silk industry at Lyons and elsewhere. There has been a serious disruption of supply of all cloths and fabrics coming from France since the events of '89, as you may imagine.'
'Indeed? Yes, well, I expect so.' Nodding. He cleared his throat, and toyed with his glass. 'However, there remains the question, James: why does Mr Tonnelier go to France in one of His Majesty's fighting ships? You follow?'
'It is all quite straightforward. I am acting in my capacity as representative of the London guilds of silk merchants, the British silk trade. France is our principal supplier. France is in difficulty. I go to examine that difficulty at first hand, in the interests of trade, of
commerce. To discover what may be required to resolve it. What could be more expeditious than my passage in a fast frigate. In the Expedient frigate, hey?'
'Indeed, hm-hm. Most expeditious, James. But are you to go ashore at Brest itself? To be candid, I don't know how kindly one of His Majesty's frigates may be received there, if I sailed direct into their harbour. We are not at war, but Brest I understand is heavily defended. The commanders of those batteries may take it into their heads to see a British warship as an invader, given the dark trouble in which France finds herself. I have heard from fellow officers – Captain Langton, as an instance – that of late the French forces, both the army and the navy, are not close-governed from Paris. There are factions at work. I will not like to risk my ship to factional bombardment, James.'
'You need have no fear of that, sir. I will not go ashore at Brest. I will like you to put me ashore on the nearby coast, at night. Have you charts to hand?'
'Indeed.' Rennie rose and went to his desk, from a wide drawer of which he produced several charts. Selecting one he brought it to the table and spread it out with leaden weights at each corner. Pointing:
'Here is Ushant to the west, and here is the Passage du Four and the Black Rocks. To the east of that Le Conquet, the Pointe de St Mathieu, and Bertheaume Bay ... and Brest beyond.'
'Mm-hm ...' James leaned over the chart, peering at it in the light of the deckhead lantern. Rennie brought a candle-holder.
'Now then, where would you like me to put you ashore? The bay, perhaps?'
'No, sir.' His finger traced the intricate outlines of the shore. 'Here it is. The Pointe de Malaise.'
'There? But good God, James, that is a very wild and rocky place, very remote.'
'Exact.'
Rennie straightened, stood holding the candle a moment, peering at James, then:
'James, I am obliged to ask you, now – even if you find y'self unwilling to answer – what is the real enterprise on which you and Mappin are engaged? I take it the silk is dishwater?'
'Sir, it ain't that I don't want to answer – but the truth is, I do not yet know myself. All I do know is that I must go ashore at that place, or as near to it as you may land me. Can we get a boat inshore there, through the rocky shoals, and these damned little islands?'
The Gathering Storm Page 9
