'We must try, whatsoever the odds against us, James.'
'Yes, sir, we must.' James clicked his tongue to encourage the horse, and tapped its rump with the reins as it trotted on, its tail lazily swishing. James was silent a moment, then: 'But why France? Why not – England?'
'England! Don't be a bloody fool, James.'
'I hope that I am not, sir. Will not you hear me out? I can make my case right well, I think.'
'Go on.' Dubiously.
'By the time we came to the bearing where we had left the Lark, the wind had veered to the south. You remember? This would have aided her to make for England, not France. In truth, her only hope would have been to run north, run before the wind, in her reduced condition.'
'Well . . .'
'Now then, smuggling vessels oftentimes creep along the coast to evade 'cise cutters, do not they? And then lie low, hid in coves or little bays? Why should not the Lark be hid in just such a place, at this moment? To carry out repair?'
Rennie looked at him, then looked away.
'Even Revenue officers themselves, wishing to disguise smuggling vessels they have took as unofficial prizes, use these little coves to hide them – eh?'
'Perhaps, perhaps. I think it unlikely Lark is hid in English waters. She would have made for France, even with the wind against her.'
'Why don't we put my speculation to the test, sir? D'y'recall Major Braithwaite, of the Board of Customs? We could enlist his help.'
'Braithwaite? Why? How?'
'He has a large force of men, and many informants, up and down the coast. If we told him that we wished to apprehend a certain person, whose cutter we believed to be lying along the coast, a person perhaps connected to a fellow called Scott – would he not at once wish to aid us?'
Rennie sniffed, glanced again at his companion, and conceded:
'Well well, that is a possibility, I expect.'
'We could ask him to instruct his men, and his informants – all of them – to keep a sharp eye open for such a cutter, and to inform us immediate if they should sight her.'
'We could, aye. However, James, we may be wasting valuable time – if Lark has gone to France.'
'Ain't it worth the attempt, though, sir? If she has gone to France, then very probably we are lost. If she has not, and is lying in an English cove, then in least we have a chance of finding her.'
'Very well, James.' A nod. 'Very well. We'll go to Major Braithwaite, and put it to him.'
'Very good, sir.' Gladly, and he urged the horse again with the reins, and shouted: 'Come on, my beauty!'
'I have come to this meeting, gentlemen, against my better judgement.' Major Braithwaite paused, his gaze moving from Captain Rennie to Lieutenant Hayter and back. All three stood in the narrow little parlour of the Pheasant, an inn on the outskirts of Portsmouth, toward Bosham. 'Your message to me, I must say to you, struck me as fanciful in tone, not to say puerile.'
Again he opened the seal-broken fold, glanced at it, and read:
As brothers in arms we can aid each other. If you desire a favourable and fruitful outcome in the question of Mr Scott, pray meet us at the Pheasant Inn at three o'clock.
Come alone, do not wear your uniform, and certainly tell no one of your destination.
The Hawk
'Which of you is the Hawk?'
'Lieutenant Hayter,' said Rennie. 'That is his command, d'y'see, but it was my notion. It was meant to add a distinctly dramatic touch, to whet your interest.'
James nodded, glancing briefly at Rennie, then:
'At any rate, Major, you have come. You will like to help us?' Indicating chairs. They all sat down at the cramped little table.
'I do not yet know your proposal.' Looking about him. 'You might have chosen a more comfortable place to make it, though.'
'It is small and out of the way. Here we will not be overheard, nor overseen.'
'Indeed. There is no room for anyone else. Barely enough for us.' Twisting in his chair, and peering behind. 'Is there a servant girl, or a potboy, away at the rear?'
'We gave instruction that we was not to be disturbed,' said Rennie. 'I have a flask, if you will like – '
'Nay, nay, let us proceed, if y'please.' Tapping the note. 'I am here about Mr Scott. What do you propose?'
'We think that we may know his smuggling partners, and how to apprehend them – the entire crew, and their vessel.'
'Yes?' The major's face was carefully neutral.
'Yes. However, we need to enlist your support.'
'In what way?'
'We need to discover exactly where the vessel lies, and – '
'Where it lies? Do not you know? I thought y'said – '
'Please, Major.' Rennie held up a hand. 'Hear us out, will you? Their cutter – as we have direct reason to know – has been badly damaged. It lies somewhere along the coast of England, we believe not very far, either east or west of Portsmouth.'
'Either east or west! Good heaven, this is nonsense!' Angrily, making to rise.
'Nay, it ain't.' James, leaning forward. 'The cutter is called the Lark. She has eluded all her pursuers over many months. Perhaps you may have heard of her?'
'I have heard the name.'
'We think, we believe, the Lark is how Mr Scott gets his brandy and tobacco into England. She is a big, fast cutter, with many guns. But now she is damaged, and in need of much repair. Your large force of men, and your many informants along the coast, can help us discover where she lies repairing and vulnerable, and then . . .'
'You will allow me to take her? Allow me my moment of triumph? Hey?' The hint of a sardonic smile.
'Something like, something like, Major.' Rennie, nodding. 'However, there is a proviso.'
'Ah, yes. I thought that perhaps there would be a proviso.' Pushing out his lips.
'We must be entirely certain that when she is took, her master is aboard.'
'Well, I hope so, certainly. He is the connection to Scott, ain't he?' Looking from one to the other.
'Exact. Exact.' Rennie nodded again. James took his cue and nodded vigorously to himself.
'What is his name?'
'His name?' said Rennie.
'He is called Aidan Faulk.' James, over him, taking a decision. 'And before we can tell you anything else, you must give your solemn oath that you will not reveal that name outside of this room.'
'Eh? Why?'
'It is a matter of the gravest consequence to the nation.'
James glanced at Rennie for support, but Rennie – shocked that James had said the name at all – could only frown.
Major Braithwaite looked from one to the other. 'And I am to help you – on your own assertion alone?'
'We are not alone, sir. The whole of England is behind us.'
'Hah, is it? Then why all this secrecy, and remote inns, and damned foolish notes in the name of Hawk?' Rennie now felt himself obliged to aid his friend, even if he thought him wrong to have revealed the name.
'Major, you will like to apprehend Mr Scott, I think? Yes?'
'Yes.' A curd nod.
'It need not trouble you who the other fellow is, that we seek, nor what he has done, if he will lead us to Scott? Ain't that so?'
'If he does. If he can. Or would.' Dubiously. 'How? That is the question. We at the Board have sought Scott high and low, and cannot discover him. He made use of Sir Robert Greer's property, or the property contiguous, but since we found that store of spirits and tobacco he has vanished. How d'you propose to connect Scott to this cutter you seek, and this other man – Aidan Faulk, is it? – when Scott himself has vanished?'
'We believe that Scott will seek to escape with Faulk in the cutter when the repair is completed,' said James. 'England has become too hot for him, as it has for Faulk. Our design is to take them both, and the cutter, at the moment they attempt their escape.'
'And now I must ask – what is your real interest in Faulk? Smuggling ain't your concern.'
'He is a spy.'
'W
hat?'
'He is an agent of France, that comes in and out of England in the guise of a smuggler, and the government wishes him took. It is our job to take him.'
Major Braithwaite looked at James, then at Captain Rennie. Then he sat quiet a moment, everything in his expression and the set of his body suggesting doubt, anxiety, disbelief. At last he drew a deep breath, and his expression changed to one of determination.
'Very well, gentlemen, in spite of my doubts – and they are many – I am prepared to take you at your word. If it will lead me to Scott, then I will help you.'
'Good, good!' James smiled, and shook his hand. 'You will not regret it.'
'Thank you, I hope that I will not. I have a proviso of my own.'
'Yes?' James exchanged a look with Rennie, who asked the major:
'What is it, Major?'
'It's this. If all this should prove to be a wild goose chase, if what you have told me about Faulk, and Scott, was no better than a concocted story, for your own ends, that you have not revealed to me, and if I now put my men to work for you, to help you in all particulars, and then we do not find Scott, nor the cutter, nor Faulk neither – I propose to arrest you.'
'Arrest us!' Rennie was astonished.
'On what charge?' demanded James.
'That you must wait to discover, gentlemen – if you fail me. And now, Rennie, I will like a drop from your flask after all.'
Now on the day following the two sea officers were going to Bucklers Hard, where Hawk had again been taken to undergo repairs, these to be swiftly done. Rennie and James between them had defrayed the cost, saying to Mr Blewitt that time was of the essence, there was not a moment of it to be lost. Those members of Hawk's complement that were hale were again at the Marine Barracks, this time under the eye – at James's request – of Colonel Macklin, to whom James had promised 'keen action soon, if you are willing'. Colonel Macklin had said that in course he was. The wounded Hawks had been taken to the Haslar by Dr Wing, by arrangement with his old and good friend Dr Stroud.
The port admiral at Portsmouth, Admiral Hapgood, had been kept in ignorance of the two sea officers' plans, but they both knew that sooner or later – probably sooner – the admiral would hear of the returned Hawk, and her officers and people, and that he would then demand to know all particulars of their recent activity.
For the present, however, Rennie and James were in buoyant spirits in their hired wherry. At Bucklers Hard they instructed the wherryman to wait for them, and proceeded to Mr Blewitt's small office – little more than a shed – by the larger slip, where a brig was repairing. The Hawk lay in an adjoining slip, shored up, with a large crew of artificers at work. Redway Blewitt emerged from his shed, his pipe clenched in his large yellow teeth. He raised his tricorne to his visitors.
'Good day, gen'men. I will say candid that I had not wished nor expected to see your cutter again so soon. I would ask that you please be more careful of her when she is made whole this time. Will you?' Looking from one to the other. His tone amiable, but with an underlying seriousness. 'I should hate to see her lost altogether – not to say those who sail in her.'
'I will do my best, Mr Blewitt,' said James. 'However, I fear I cannot promise that she will never again suffer damage. How goes the repair?'
'As you see . . .' Mr Blewitt pointed with the stem of his pipe '. . . the repair proceeds well. The damage to her wales was quite severe – at first glance. When we came to examine her close, though, we found she had not suffered so terrible severe as we'd thought. She is stout-built, your cutter. Doverbuilt, I b'lieve.'
'Dover-built, aye.' James, nodding.
Redway Blewitt nodded in turn. 'No finer cutter ever passed through my hands. Stout-built, sturdy, a lovely weatherly sea boat, aye.' His pipe back between his teeth. A puff of smoke. Another. 'Three days more, and you may have her.'
'Three days?' James, anxiously. 'Could not you let us have her in two, Mr Blewitt?'
'I could, yes.' A puff. 'But she would not be ready for sea.'
'I am willing – we are willing – to pay whatever you ask, if that will – '
'Ain't a question of moneys, Mr Hayter.' Over him, firmly. 'It is a question of my artificers doing their work right well. Wales scarfed and butted, a quantity of caulking, a coat of paint. Cable-laid rigging. Three days, at full effort.'
'Very well, Mr Blewitt. Thank you.' They shook hands, and James and Rennie walked across to the slip to look at Hawk close to. Mr Blewitt returned to his hut, puffing clouds of blue smoke.
'D'y'think I offended him?' James wondered aloud.
'No, no, James. Blewitt is a sensible fellow. He knows you want the Hawk back right quick, and is sympathetic. We are damned fortunate in this yard, I reckon. Had we wanted a quick repair at Portsmouth we should have been waiting a month.'
Presently, having made their brief inspection, and been satisfied, the two sea officers returned to their wherry. As they climbed into the boat, and the wherryman shoved off, James: 'By the time we get her to sea it will leave us scarcely two days to find and capture Faulk.'
As if to give emphasis to his anxiety a herring gull swooped low overhead and gave its urgent, echoing cry: kee-ow . . . kee-ow.
Rennie glanced up at the heeling bird, set his hat firmer on his head, and said nothing.
When they returned to the Marine Barracks – Rennie with his hat pulled low on his head and his shoulders hunched, for he was yet in Portsmouth a despised figure, he thought, that had better not be seen – there was a message for James from Mr Hope at the Haslar. Would the lieutenant come there forthwith, if it pleased him? It did not please him, but James went. His plan to take the Lark and capture Aidan Faulk was all-important to him, but he was a junior officer and Mr Hope his senior, who should be kept informed in a matter that was in course common to them both.
James came to Gosport by a hoy, went in at the Haslar gates, and was directed to a private upper room where he found Mr Hope reclining on his cot in his nightshirt. He looked thinner, James noted. He was immersed in papers that James saw – as he came close by the bed – were ship draughts. The room was stuffy, with the distinct odour of stale urine.
'Ah, Mr Hayter.' Looking up. 'You have come. I am glad.'
James had shifted into his dress coat and hat, and the hat was now correctly and neatly held under his arm. A brief formal bow.
'And I am glad to see you better, sir.'
'I am better, certainly.' A wink, slightly disconcerting to James. 'In truth, when I woke this morning, my life's companion was at full alert.'
'Sir?' Politely, puzzled.
'Christ's blood – hhhhh – you young fellows are slow on the take-up. My strumpet trumpet! Hey? What?'
'Ohh. Yes, I see.'
'The surest sign that I was beginning recovered was that! Hhh-hhh-hhh!'
'Indeed, sir. – You wished to see me?'
'I did, Mr Hayter, I do.' Sobering, thrusting aside the ship draughts. 'To business.'
James waited, his expression attentive. There was no chair in the room, so that he was obliged to remain standing. The air was very close, and he began to sweat under his coat.
'I have received a despatch, Mr Hayter.' Mr Hope took from under his pillow a folded letter, the seal broken. He opened it, perused it a moment, and:
'It is from a very high source. You will understand that I am not at liberty to reveal, and so forth – but the very highest source.'
'I understand you, sir.'
'That source enquires what progress we have made.' Looking up. 'What progress have we made, Mr Hayter?'
'Considerable progress, sir.' Not allowing himself to hesitate. 'We are nearly at our destination.'
'Are we?'
'That is so, sir.'
'When shall we reach it?'
'Within the week.' With a confidence he did not feel.
'That is well, excellent well. I'll come with you.' Swinging his legs to the floor, and attempting to stand up straight, pulling back his shoulders
. At once he faltered, lurched, and would have fallen had not James stepped quickly forward and supported him. James held him up a moment, then Mr Hope sat down shakily on the edge of the cot, the stale smell of his nightshirt in James's nostrils.
'Thankee, Mr Hayter. Not quite restored, I fear. Not yet quite hale. Have ye a drop of something in your flask?' Holding out a hand.
'I – I did not bring my flask, sir.'
'What, no flask?' Querulously.
'Shall I ring the bell, sir, and ask for brandy?'
'Nay, Mr Hayter. You could ring that bloody bell all day, and all night too, and never get any brandy here.' 'I am sure that if I were to ask Dr Stroud himself – ' 'Stroud is the worst of them! And that bloody little Wing is his echo. "You may not take alcohol until you are improved." Busybodies, sir, damned vexing busybodies! – Whhhh . . .' Putting a hand to his head, and lying back against his pillow.
'Should I leave you, sir?'
'What?'
'Should not you rest now, sir? I do not wish – '
'You are certain you've forgot your flask?'
'I am, sir.'
'Will y'not go through your coat pockets, hey? Just to be certain, absolute?'
James made a show of checking all of his pockets. An apologetic grimace. 'Alas . . .'
'Damnation. Y'cannot have the least notion what it is like to lie here, day in and day out, and all the night long, without comfort of any kind.'
'Well, sir – I do know what you are suffering, in fact. I have been confined in the Haslar myself – '
'Yes yes, but you are young.' Testily. 'I am a man that is accustomed to a regularity of refreshment. I must have my comforts.'
'Perhaps I could arrange – '
'D'y'think that has not been attempted, good heaven? That I have not exercised all manner of deception? But that damned fellow Stroud has got athwart my hawse every bloody time! Did he make you give up your flask before you came in? Hey? I'll wager ten guineas he did!'
'No, sir, he did not.'
'Yes, well, in course he would oblige you to conceal it from me. That is his nature. Doubt, and suspicion!'
'I assure you, sir – '
'Yes yes, Mr Hayter, in course you do. Thank you for coming to me.'
The Hawk Page 30
