Puffin's captain was not aboard. When Rennie had arrived at Dover and commandeered the brig with his spurious but impressive-looking warrant, her captain had been absent on an errand at Deal, and was not expected to return before the morrow. The mate had gone with him.
'Two pocket pistols and a rusty hanger. Well well – we must do our best.'
But his mood had fallen from its recent height, and a frown settled on his forehead. He must busy himself. He must apply himself to practical things.
'You there, boy.'
'Sir?'
'Who is the best lookout among the people? Find him, and send him to me.'
*
The French brig – with James and Juliette gagged and bound, and hidden away behind the breadroom – had been at sea barely one glass when she was pursued. Members of the Excise party ashore had signalled by red rocket to an Excise cutter lying offshore – the Peregrine, ten guns, captained by Commander Warren Hunt – and she had given chase. As she did, a second brig appeared from up Channel, and fired a gun.
Commander Hunt at once altered course to intercept the second brig, believing the two were a pair, seeking to aid each other. He accordingly fired a warning shot across the second brig's bow, but as he came within hailing distance he heard:
'Peregrine, there! We are Puffin, I am Captain William Rennie, RN, in command, and I order you to chase, stop and detain that damned French brig, in the king's name!'
'RN ... RN?' Commander Hunt said to his second officer. 'Unless I have lost my senses that brig cannot possibly be a commissioned naval ship. It is a ruse.' Through his speaking trumpet he bellowed:
'Heave to, Peregrine! I am going to board you!'
'The French brig will escape! We must stop her! Stop her!'
And indeed the first brig was now beating away south into the wind, but Commander Hunt felt there was time enough to deal with her – when he had dealt with Puffin. Raising his trumpet:
'You will heave to, or be fired upon!'
Rennie had no great guns, and with enormous irritation was obliged to heave to. He did not wait for Commander Hunt to come to him, but had Puffin's boat hoisted out, and went to Peregrine, bringing with him a slightly unsteady but compliant Mr Mappin. As soon as Rennie came aboard Peregrine he introduced himself and Mappin, showed Commander Hunt his warrant with the Admiralty seal, and:
'Commander, I will be very much obliged to you if y'will pursue that French vessel at once, for Christ's sake.'
'I was in pursuit of her, when you fired a gun, Captain Renn—'
'At once, if you please.' Over him. 'Mr Mappin here has seen a certain person upon her deck, and recognised him. He is a man called Félix, a very dangerous fellow. He has a British prisoner aboard, a sea officer, RN. It is my urgent duty to rescue that officer, and yours, Commander.'
'Is this true, Mr Mappin?' Commander Hunt, as Rennie stalked to the rail with a sigh, and peered at the retreating French brig.
Mr Mappin was still rather nauseous, but ready to aid Rennie.
'It is true. Captain Rennie drew my attention to a figure on deck as we came down the Channel, and I took his glass and observed the man. I was amazed we had come upon him, but it is the man we seek, without question.'
'We are wasting time!' Rennie, in a fury of exasperation.
'And are you a naval officer, Mr Mappin?' Commander Hunt.
'Nay, I am not. I am in – another branch of His Majesty's service.'
A frown. 'D'y'mean – the Board?' Meaning, the Board of Customs.
'Nay, nay.' Shaking his head.
Rennie, striding from the rail: 'I will vouch for Mr Mappin, I will vouch for him.' Pointing at the brig. 'That is the ship we must pursue, without the loss of a moment. A British naval officer is certainly confined somewhere aboard her. Well? Well?'
Commander Hunt glanced again at Rennie's warrant, and then at Rennie. A breath, then a brisk nod.
'We will pursue her. D'y'wish to return to Puffin first?'
'No no, I will remain aboard your cutter. You are armed, Puffin ain't.'
'Very good.' To his second officer: 'Mr Tulkinghorn! Hands to make sail!'
Within moments Peregrine heeled into the wind, leaving Puffin's boat bobbing on the swell, and the chase began.
TWENTY-TWO
Peregrine was a fast, weatherly vessel, and soon overhauled the French brig. A further warning shot was fired, but to Rennie's surprise – and Commander Hunt's – the brig made no attempt to come off the wind and heave to, indeed gave no sign that the shot had even been heard.
'Give her another gun,' Commander Hunt ordered his gunner. 'Aim close, so he cannot fail to see the shot strike the sea.'
The gun was fired, and the roundshot sent up a fountain of spray just ahead of the brig. Now something happened that astonished both Rennie and Commander Hunt. The brig swung to larboard off the wind, and revealed a line of four previously concealed gunports, and four squat guns run out.
'By God! By God, he has got carronades concealed aboard!' Commander Hunt, outraged and dismayed.
As soon as he had said the words, orange flashes lit the gunports, and a moment after came the concussive sound of the guns:
THUD THUD THUD-THUD
Twelve-pound roundshot whirred past the cutter, uncomfortably close, and spray shot up immediately aft of her.
'What are your guns, Commander?' Rennie. 'Four-pounders, ain't they?'
'Aye, a mere twenty-pound weight of iron broadside. His broadside is near fifty pound.'
'Then we must run straight at him, and board him.'
'Eh?'
'Sheer bloody aggression is the only tactic that will answer today, Commander.'
'But I cannot nearly match him, Captain Rennie. This is plain damn' foolishness.'
'Plain damn' death, if we don't attack! You wish to die directly, Commander?'
'Nay, I don't!' Stoutly.
'Then be guided by the will to live! The will to prevail!'
Commander Hunt stared at Rennie a long moment, then:
'Mr Tulkinghorn! We will go straight at the brig as they reload! Prepare to board! Cutlasses and pistols for every man! And grappling irons forrard!'
The two vessels closed, and at the last moment the brig came about, presenting her starboard side to Peregrine. Another four gunports, and what Rennie suspected were the same four carronades, worked on pivoting transverse carriages. Carronades, by contrast with long great guns, were a fraction of the weight, and thus much more easily fought – loaded, run out and fired – by much smaller guncrews. This time the aim of those crews was better.
THUD-THUD-THUD THUD
Two of the four twelve-pound roundshot struck Peregrine, and struck heavy. Her bowsprit was smashed and her forestay snapped by the first. The second whirred lethally the length of the deck, struck and severely wounded her mast, broke the tiller and killed the helmsman. An eighteen-inch splinter pierced Commander Hunt's chest, and he fell dying. Rennie was knocked off his feet by the shock wave of a third ball that did not hit anything, but droned away astern. He was otherwise unhurt. He got up on his legs, his ears ringing, and found himself effectively in command.
Mr Tulkinghorn, Commander Hunt's second-in-command, was dazed, and his face speckled with blood, but he was still on his feet. Before he or Rennie could issue any commands, the cutter's momentum brought her to a direct collision with the brig, which she struck amidships. Peregrine shuddered right through her, yawed and swung, and her whole length collided with the brig's starboard side in a grinding, rending crash. Rennie found his voice.
'Grappling irons fore and aft!' Bellowed. 'We will board her, lads! Mr Tulkinghorn forrard, and I will lead aft! This is a fight to the death, lads! Show no mercy to these damned blackguards, that have fired on an English ship in English waters! Cut them down! Cut them down!'
And with a roaring yell he leapt up on Peregrine's rail, and clambered into the brig, followed by bellowing men made dangerous by the rage that follows terror. Peregrine's cre
w outnumbered the brig's crew two to one, and they were better armed and better trained. Although fighting was briefly fierce, resistance soon ceased, and the Frenchmen laid down their small-arms to preserve their lives.
He had been wrong about the carronades, Rennie noted. There were in fact eight all told, four a side, cleverly concealed beneath false decking and hatchways amidships. As he made this inspection he found to his surprise that Mr Mappin was by his side, a sea pistol in his hand.
'Good God, Mappin, I did not know you had come with us in the assault.'
'In course I came. I should have felt a damn' fool else, or a poltroon.'
'But I did not expect you to take part, when you was ill.'
'Pish pish. As soon as the action began all sickness vanished. Pure self-preservation set in, and what better way to preserve one's life than by fighting for it, hey?'
'That is well said, Mr Mappin. I am in your debt, sir.'
When Rennie had formally accepted the French master's sword in surrender, he took a small party of Excise men below, leaving Mr Tulkinghorn in charge on deck. Mr Mappin came below with him.
'You think they are still alive, Captain Rennie?' Quietly, as they went down the ladder.
'I most fervently hope so. It will be a bitter end to this day if they are not.'
'Indeed.'
Rennie and Mappin both called James's name repeatedly as the search was conducted, and at last, as they came to the breadroom aft, Rennie heard what he thought was a muffled thud from within. The breadroom door was wrenched open, and Rennie had one of the Excise men tap the rear bulkhead with his musket butt. Hollow.
'Prise it off with your bayonet.'
The bulkhead was prised open, splintering as it came, and as soon as it was removed Mr Félix leapt out of the cramped space and fired a pistol point-blank, shooting dead the man with the bayonet. Rennie raised his own pistol at once, then lowered it.
Félix advanced, holding a young woman in a torn shift in front of him, an arm round her throat. She stared in terror at Rennie and the party of Excise men. M. Félix had brought a second pistol from his coat, and now held it at the young woman's head.
'You will allow me to go free, or I will kill her.'
Behind M. Félix Rennie could see James Hayter, bound and gagged in a crouched position. Only his eyes, frantic and desperate, gave him animation.
Rennie stood back a little, the rest of the small party behind him with Mr Mappin.
'I will not impede you,' he said to M. Félix. 'If you wish to go on deck, you may do so.'
'You will go on ahead of us, monsieur, and warn them on deck to let me go free.'
'May I not release Lieutenant Hayter?'
'You may not. You will do exactly as I tell you. Walk to the ladder, and go up. Tell them on deck to stand well clear, and let me go free. And remember – I have only to pull the trigger, and Madame Maigre will die.' Jerking his arm tighter round her neck so that she flinched and shut her eyes.
'Very well.' Rennie pushed his way to the ladder past the Excise men, nodded to Mr Mappin, and went on deck. Presently he called down:
'Come up! It is quite safe!'
Waiting on deck, with the rest of the Excise crew standing well back, Rennie saw first Mr Mappin emerge, then the small party of men, now deprived of their weapons. A cautious M. Félix followed, holding the young woman as tightly as before, the pistol at her head. He began issuing instructions at once.
'Stand very still! Nobody will move until I say so! A single movement from anyone will cause her instant death!'
Utter silence on deck, broken only by the uneasy creaking of the two ships together as they rode a passing wave.
'That is good, very good. Now, you English will hoist out the boat, and go into it.' Pointing at the boat in the waist.
Silence. Uneasy glances between members of the Excise crew.
'Do as I say! Or I will scatter her brains!' The pistol.
Mr Tulkinghorn, in a low, anxious tone, to Rennie:
'What shall we do?'
'Stand fast, Mr Tulkinghorn.' Rennie, equally low. Raising his voice: 'Now then, monsieur, why not be a reasonable man?'
'Do not provoke me!' The pistol.
'We are many, you know, and you are but one man alone.'
'Release my people! Release them at once!'
'Stand fast, Mr Tulkinghorn.' Rennie, again very low. Louder: 'No, monsieur, I don't think you understand me.' And he walked deliberately aft toward M. Félix.
'Stop! Stop, or I will shoot her!' Pushing the muzzle of the pistol against his prisoner's temple.
'Nay, you will not, I think. If you did, you would in course be cut to pieces at once. We do not want more bloodshed, neither of us.'
'Stop!'
And Rennie did stop. He opened his mouth to speak.
But before he could say anything else, one of the Excise men snatched up his musket, and fired at M. Félix. The ball struck him in the left eye. He gave a cry and fell, dragging his prisoner with him, and as he fell his pistol discharged. A thin crack. A puff of smoke. Blood poured in a red stream over the deck. It did not come from M. Félix, whose wound bled little. It came from his hapless prisoner, shot in the temple. Her lifeless body fell from his grasp and lolled on the planking, her red-soaked hair clinging to her head and neck.
Rennie ran to her, saw that he could not aid her, and kicked the pistol from M. Félix's hand. In a fury he turned on the Excise man who had fired.
'Who ordered you to shoot! You have killed her, damn you blood!'
He ran at the man, snatched the musket from him, and flung it in a violent tumbling arc away over the side.
'I'll see that you are court-martialled and hanged, you bloody wretch!'
Mr Mappin now moved to Rennie's side, took his arm, and:
'Nay, nay, what's done is done. The man acted impetuous – but we have achieved our aim.'
'Achieved our aim! Achieved it! The poor woman is dead, for Christ's sake!'
Earnestly, drawing him aside: 'And that is a very great pity. But Lieutenant Hayter is alive, our enemy is dead, and our work is done.'
Rennie looked at him, took in the sense of what was being said – and anger died in his breast. He sighed, and sniffed in a breath. As always after a fierce and bloody action, weariness and melancholy began to descend on him. Another glance at Mappin, and he nodded once, stepped away, and began to issue orders. The bodies were removed from the deck, and presently Rennie went below. He released Lieutenant Hayter from his bindings, and helped him up the ladder. As they came on deck, James:
'Where is Juliette?'
'My dear friend – she is gone.'
'Gone? You mean, he has escaped with her?'
'Nay.' A breath. 'She is dead.'
'Dead ... ?'
'A shot was fired, and she was killed. I am very sorry.'
James stared at him a long moment, and said nothing. Then he turned and walked aft to the tafferel, and stood looking away at the riding sea. He heard the wash of the sea under the counter, and the rinsing slap of waves against the rudder, simple sounds he had heard a thousand times, sounds that in usual he would scarcely notice at all. Yet now they seemed to take on a significance so desolate and implacable and bleak it was as if they spoke directly to him, and he could not ignore their meaning.
Rennie looked at James standing there alone, and made to follow him and comfort him, and then did not. To himself:
'He is better left alone, just at present.'
One glass after, Captain Rennie set the brig free of the half-crippled Peregrine, having obliged the brig's crew to tip the carronades over the side. He then jury-rigged and sailed the limping cutter north to rendezvous with the Puffin, went back aboard her, and took Peregrine in tow.
*
At Dover, when they came ashore, Brough Mappin returned at once to London to make his report, and Rennie took rooms at a small waterfront hotel in order that Lieutenant Hayter might rest and recover from his ordeal. But James was
both too agitated and too cast down to rest.
'I had not thought to ask you this before, but how did you discover us, sir? You had intelligence about the brig?' Turning from the window.
'Nay, I did not. I came direct to the coast – very much against Mappin's advice. And yet he came with me all the way, he does not lack courage, the fellow.'
'So – so it was luck, then?'
'Well, as you know, I don't believe in luck, James. Guesswork, perhaps. I will allow it was guesswork, inspired by my profound desire to see you safe and sound again in England.'
'Yes – well. I thank you for that, sir. But I ... I think you have wasted your time on me.'
'Eh?'
'I don't mean ... I don't mean that I ain't in your debt. I do thank you for what you did, with all my heart.'
'We are shipmates, James.' Simply. 'I could never have looked at myself in my glass again, had I not strained every sinew to save you. I don't think I would call that a waste of time.'
James shook his hand warmly, nodded, tried to say something more, and was prevented by a rise of tears. Presently he regained his composure enough to say:
'I am a selfish blackguard to've said what I did. Forgive me.' And then he fell silent, and was lost in his thoughts, working his hands together as he sat on the corner of the bed in the little room.
'Will ye not lie down, my dear friend, and rest?' Rennie, presently. He did not like to leave him alone, now. He did not feel easy about it.
'I do not think I shall ever rest again.'
'You are overwrought, in course. It is natural, after what has happened. But in time—'
'Time will do nothing. Time will not answer anything.'
Rennie was silent. He made a face, walked to the window, stared out at the sea. And presently came to a decision.
'I must say a word about our friend Mappin, James.' Turning.
'I had wished Mappin dead, but no longer. He is nothing to me now, and I will not like to hear any more about him.'
'I must tell you, all the same. It may make a difference to your view of this whole matter, when you have heard what I'm going to tell you.'
The Gathering Storm Page 33
