* * *
Major Sharrocks crept towards where his redcoat spy lay hidden in the dune grass. As the trooper heard him he turned his head and put the telescope down.
‘Come on,’ whispered Sharrocks, ‘the colonel’s changed his orders. He says we’ve got better things to do than this. He wants us back at barracks. What’s happening anyway?’
‘A fight,’ said the soldier. ‘That bloke that was staring on the beach just laid out one of the fisherfools.’
‘Did he?’ said Sharrocks, without much interest. L’Arquen’s change of focus had infected him as well. ‘Good. Would that these Scots madmen all killed each other. Then we could go home. Come on, we’re finished here. The colonel will want to know about this – and he’ll want to know why you’re late as well if you hang about much longer.’
* * *
Zweig took little time to look over Dunbeath’s boat. He checked the sheets for knots and wear, and then pulled the sails out of the locker and examined them carefully for fraying and any small tears that would widen if they hit foul weather. He ran his expert eye over a host of potential problem areas but eventually he straightened.
‘She’s still trim, James. I’ve no doubt she will get Lord Dunbeath to London. Help me get this awning off the cabin roof, would you? And then we can go back to the cottage and ask for your mother’s help with our agreement.’
James came forward and the two men finished making the boat ready for the coming journey. Finally Zweig gave a satisfied nod to the boy.
‘Thank you for your help, James. Now, why don’t you go back to the house and I’ll meet you there? I shall get the telescope from its hiding place and bring it along presently.’
It was a few minutes later that the three of them were sitting around the cottage table. Zweig had the wooden telescope in his hand, hidden in its oilcloth and he held it up briefly to show James. Then he smiled broadly at Mona.
‘Madam, we have a great service that we would like you to do for us. We have something here that we would ask you to keep safe. We’d like you to hide it very carefully from view until I return from London. Would you do that, Mona? It is a simple task but it would mean everything to us both.’
‘Why? What is it?’
‘Mona. I knew you would ask that and I understand why you should do so. And I’m sorry to say that I’m not able to answer – but can you not trust us with this? Just for a little time? You see, it is a pact between James and myself and …’ he leant forward towards Mona, his huge personality fully trained on her, ‘…it’s important to me that you keep it hidden from us both. But, if anything should happen to me, Mona, if I’m arrested, or do not return a month from now, then please let James have it. But not before. Can you do that for us, madam? I would not ask you to do this if it was not important.’
Mona looked uncomfortable and began to mutter her concerns, but Zweig’s smiling certainty made her fall silent.
‘Please, do this one last thing for me, Mona,’ he said softly, ‘I shall return soon and Lord Dunbeath will pay me out and I’ll be able to repay you more than handsomely for your kindness towards me. All will be well.’
Mona looked questioningly across at James. The boy nodded.
‘Aye’, she said when she saw this, ‘I’ll do as you ask.’
She looked more closely at James’s face and saw that a large bruise was emerging on his face.
‘You’re hurt, James. How did you come by that?’
‘I fell on the path,’ he replied and turned away from her. Mona glanced over to Zweig but he continued to smile blandly back at her.
‘Here, James,’ he said, and handed the boy the bundle. James’s face brightened at once and he grabbed it from the captain and held it longingly to his chest. He then ran his hand slowly over the cloth as he felt for the jewels. He sat stroking it for a few moments and it was with an evident effort that he then passed it over to his mother.
‘There, madam,’ said Zweig with the air of a man who had just completed a complex business arrangement, ‘that is done. Many thanks to you. Now, do you have any clothes you could let me have for the journey to London? I dare say the east coast winds will make the voyage a wet one.’
Mona stood up and Zweig followed her to a corner where a pile of oiled clothes had been thrown. The pair dropped to their knees to sort through them.
Zweig glanced over to where James was sitting at the table, still brooding, and made sure that he couldn’t be seen or heard. He then leant across and whispered fiercely in Mona’s ear.
‘Whatever you do, madam – do not let James have that bundle. My life depends on it.’
She looked up in alarm and saw that he was utterly serious.
‘Please. Do this for me, Mona. Never let him have it. Whatever happens, do not let him open the wrapping. Don’t be concerned, no harm will come – I shall return soon and everything will be resolved. But please, please, trust me on this.’
They stared at each other for some seconds before Mona’s resistance cracked. She knew only too well her son’s fragile state of mind.
‘Yes. All right. I promise,’ she whispered.
Zweig stood up, his arms full of waterproof gear. He beamed at her with affection and gratitude and then strode back to where James was still sitting at the table.
‘I must get some sleep now,’ he said to the boy. ‘Wake me at midnight will you, James, and we’ll sail the boat down to the castle together.’
With that Zweig lay down on the rushes in the corner of the cottage and was immediately asleep for the first time in three days.
* * *
Sophie drew back the curtains in her room, relieved that the need to hide behind them like a prying neighbour had come to an end at last. Immediately she did so she felt another curtain lift from the gloom that had been so affecting her mood. She now stopped with her hand on the heavy fringe of the drape and looked down towards the empty spot where Zweig had been sitting. In an instant she found herself thinking about the two men who were in such a struggle over her, and of their wildly different characters – the one impetuous, difficult, presumptuous and the other so determined and patient. She thought of Zweig again and his incredible vigil. What a fighter he was! But, what had it meant?
Where will all this all end? she thought once more, only too aware of how little power she had to influence its outcome. But wherever matters might lead, she knew that her first aim was still to protect her father. She had to see Dunbeath pay off the debt or to see out the hundred days. As long as Zweig was away in London, she was safe. As for marriage – well, she still had to play for time, whatever that might mean or she might have to promise.
* * *
Zweig was immediately awake when James shook his shoulder at midnight. Mona had filled a sack with food for the journey to London and Zweig picked this up as he left. Together the two men set off towards the quay.
It didn’t take long for Zweig to have the boat in seaworthy order. The jacht was about thirty five feet long and gaff rigged, ideal for the journey he thought, a tiller helm and a small cabin below, just large enough for a pair of narrow cots and a table. Zweig had seen similar boats in the Baltic and he had no doubt that she would be like them, sturdily built for coastal waters and quite capable of a hundred or more sea miles on a good day.
He knew there would be no time to be squandered but he was confident he should have Dunbeath in London for his meeting. His anxiety, though, was sleep and he wondered if the angry lord could put his hand to steering a course. Nonetheless, he stuffed some cordage into his bag to hold the tiller amidships if his hopes were not met.
Two hours later Zweig and James had the boat readied and in a further few minutes they had sailed her the few furlongs down to the castle. They anchored about fifty yards from the beach and then lifted the small tender down from its cradle on the cabin roof. They dropped it into the water and Zweig climbed down, set the oars in their rowlocks and rowed the two men to the shore. They dragged the dinghy up
onto the sand and then set off to walk to where the colossal boulders were clustered under the castle wall.
Zweig had judged the tide well. It was at its lowest and the rocks showed high above the slopping waves. James looked at them grimly as they approached and shuddered at the memory of a similar night.
He spoke in a low whisper to Zweig.
‘The sea’s calm. You’ll have no trouble getting in there.’
They reached the sea wall and were about to clamber onto the gigantic stone by the entrance gap when James stopped and turned to Zweig. He spoke in an urgent tone – half mumble, half whisper.
‘Before we go further, Zweig. Tell me again of our bargain.’
‘Very well. If you wish,’ replied the captain, softly. ‘Your mother has the telescope hidden. If I don’t return within a month from this night she will give it to you. But I shall return, James, have no fear on that. Dunbeath will pay me out and give me the boat. Once I’m safely away from the English, your mother will give you the telescope. I also intend you to have twenty pounds from the money I shall give her.’
He extended his hand towards James.
‘There, you have my word on that agreement.’
James took his hand and shook it.
‘Yes. I agree. Now, I’ll show you the way into the castle.’
* * *
Zweig passed easily through the cave and pushed at the flagstone with his shoulder. He pulled himself up into the storeroom and a few minutes later he was padding through the castle’s ancient passages, moving with extraordinary stealth for such a colossal man. He carefully climbed a back staircase and soon reached the third floor; then set off down the corridor there. He began to count the doors on the side that gave onto the beach.
This was the door that led to the fifth window, he thought. And here he threw the dice. If he was right then this would be Sophie’s bedroom. But if it was Dunbeath’s or the fat man’s, then his plans were finished.
He noiselessly opened the door and crept towards the bed. As he looked down he silently gave thanks when he saw that it was indeed Sophie, and he stood for a moment contemplating her beautiful profile and listening to her childlike breathing. Then he reached down and put the palm of his hand deftly across her mouth.
She woke immediately and sat up with a start, snatching at the bedclothes. Her eyes opened wide with terror but Zweig ignored her alarm and began to speak to her in German in a low, firm voice.
‘I shall take my hand away now, Sophie. And if you desire my death you have only to scream. I have no doubt that Lord Dunbeath would do you the honour of shooting me.’
He slipped his hand away and Sophie shrank back, pulling the blanket towards her. She was greatly shocked. But she had not screamed.
Zweig set down by her bed. He was now on one knee, his head close to hers. His eyes were down as he spoke to her, his voice low, hoarse and almost breaking in its intensity.
‘You will know, Sophie, that I have agreed to sail Lord Dunbeath to London. It will be a desperate race to get him there in time and I’ve no doubt my good lord will make me risk all in the name of his ambition. Much can go against me on this journey and if I don’t return I need you to know certain things. But if I should succeed and come back to Scotland…then I wish that you would think on these same things before you see me again.’
He paused as if searching for the right words. Then he started again.
‘Sophie. I love you. I have always loved you. And I shall never stop loving you until the moment I die. For three days and as many nights you’ve seen me outside this castle, telling you of that love. For every second of that hard, hard trial you must have known that I was speaking only to you.’
His head dropped further.
‘When I put you in the waves that awful night, with my ship and everything I’d built disappearing beneath me, I felt my heart break in my chest. If you had died, I would have died too, but God brought you here and then he decided that I should live too. Yes, I lived – and now I live as I never did before.
‘Sophie, should I come back from London …I am asking you to return to Königsberg with me. You will have heard of my agreement with Lord Dunbeath and you’ll know that even though I was ruined, even from nothing, I have conjured up a boat and the money to start again. You know full well what I can do in life. Think of what we could do together! Think of the excitement, the joys, the plans we could make, the things we would discover. Perhaps the children we would have. And the love we would share.’
Zweig paused, and he seemed to be struggling with a terrible memory. His voice faltered.
‘There is something else that I would ask you to think on. There were thirty four men with me when we left our homes in Königsberg and I have now to see their mothers and wives. I must support these women and their families as their menfolk would have done. They died because of me and their lives must carry on. I owe it to them. But Sophie, I need your help to do this.
‘Please, Sophie, think on my poor words while I am away. Please agree that you will come away with me when I return. Hear the sound of my heart while I am gone - you have only to listen to the wind in the leaves or the waves on the shore. And when you hear them, you will be hearing my voice too …I shall be saying to you, again and again and again …Sophie, I love you, I love you, I love you.’
Zweig stopped, his eyes were on the floor and he rose quickly to his feet. He turned and walked to the door without a backwards glance.
Sophie looked at his departing back. She hadn’t said a word.
Chapter 19
Once he’d closed the door to Sophie’s bedroom Zweig walked noiselessly down the staircase to the entrance hall. He opened the front door and stepped out, quietly closing it again behind him. Then he turned and hammered heavily with the huge knocker.
Before long Dunbeath appeared, his arms filled with rolls of charts and diagrams.
‘Good morning, my lord. You have everything?’
Dunbeath handed the charts to him and Zweig began to truss them together with a length of twine. The two men worked together for some minutes, packing the presentation, when Zweig looked up to see Sophie coming to the bottom of the stairs in a long nightdress and with a silk shawl about her shoulders.
‘And a good morning to you, Miss Kant,’ he said as she handed some further charts to the earl. Dunbeath looked these over and then handed them to Zweig, together with a small travelling bag that he’d brought downstairs with him.
‘You take very little, my lord,’ Zweig said, feeling its weight, ‘do you not need clothes for your meeting?’
‘Hmm?’ muttered Dunbeath, distracted by checking that he had included all the material he’d require for the Board. ‘Taking little? I need only enough to get me to my house in London. I have clothes for a hundred of these absurd gatherings once I’m there.’
Zweig picked up Dunbeath’s bag and the rolled charts.
‘We must make a start sir, there is no time to be lost.’
He turned and headed down towards the shore but Dunbeath held back for a moment.
‘Goodbye my dearest,’ he said to Sophie, once Zweig was out of earshot. She looked at Dunbeath, his tenderness surprising her. ‘I spoke to Mr Hume yesterday,’ he continued, ‘and he has agreed to stay here at the castle with you while I’m away. If that army officer, L’Arquen, should call again he will be here to deal with him. You have only to stay out of sight. Don’t be afraid, my dearest, and have no fear for me either, for I shall do our work justice with the Board. You will see, I shall return with the Prize.’
He took her hands and quickly kissed them, then turned and walked down to the beach to join Zweig. By now James had disappeared back to Dunbeaton and together the two men rowed out to the boat and hauled the tender onto the cabin roof of the jacht. They lashed it down and Zweig made his way back to the cockpit. He looked out to sea.
‘There will be a fresh breeze out there when we’re clear of the land, my lord. We shall be making good time soon.�
��
* * *
David Hume came into the great salon just as dawn was breaking. He saw Sophie standing in the huge bow window, looking out at the vastness of the sea and at the speck on the horizon that was all that remained of Dunbeath’s rapidly disappearing boat.
‘Many apologies for my lateness, Sophie. I intended to rise earlier. Did they get away?’
Sophie continued to look distractedly at the sea’s shining surface and the flecks of white that danced on the tips of the waves.
‘Yes, they did,’ she said in a dull voice, ‘but God knows when they will return. Zweig may have had powder with him when he came but he carries another explosive now.’
Hume pulled his dressing robe tighter about himself.
‘Ah, you refer to Dunbeath’s Urquhain curse, of course. Yes, we have seen something of that these past few days, have we not? I hope he can keep the Rage in his pocket while he is with your ship’s captain. The determination he showed out there on the dunes doesn’t lead me to think he’s a man that would tolerate too much insurrection. And as for the Board, I only hope they give him an attentive reception.’
Sophie turned back to the room and smiled at Hume with an air of resignation.
‘I’m sure the work will speak for itself. Let us hope so anyway.’
She was about to walk towards the fire when Hume gave an apologetic cough.
‘Forgive me, but I awoke in the night with a strange thought. I am no sailor of course, I have scarcely ever been to sea, but I wondered about our captain’s intentions.’
‘What do you mean, Mr Hume?’
‘Well, as I say, I know little about it, but would you not have thought that he should have left when the tide was at its highest rather than its lowest? Surely the ebbing of a high tide would have taken him out to sea rather than the other way round?’
‘How strange,’ replied Sophie, now struck by the same thought. ‘I must say that your logic would appear to be correct. No, I have no idea why that should have been. Now you’ll excuse me please, Mr Hume, I shall dress and breakfast. And then perhaps we might explore the Dilemma a little further. I have been thinking more on Tit for Tat.’
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