In the great cabin James gave Rennie – at his request – an account of his time in captivity, and then of the battle.
‘I struck down two of their officers, including the captain, as we made good our escape, sir. That – in addition to your broadsides of grape – I think decided them on their retreat. Captain Broadman had meant to destroy Expedient, certainly, but after he fell and they were leaderless, his people lost heart, and tacked away.’
‘Ha-ha, then I had no need to make all that stinking damned smoke. I had thought to give them an opportunity to escape, but they needed no such persuading after all, hey?’
‘No, sir. However, I cannot tell what Captain Broadman’s mood will be when he comes to consciousness and finds his people have broke off the engagement. Likely he will wish to return and bring the battle to a conclusion.’
‘A conclusion in his favour? Well well, he will discover that I am not the timorous weakling he supposes, if he attempts it.’ A breath, and a suck of wine, then: ‘I do not think he will attempt it, James. His task is to convey something, or someone, to America, and he will therefore—’
‘I have met the man, sir.’ Over him.
‘Eh?’
‘Yes, sir. I had meant to include all details in my written account, but you wished me first to tell—’
‘You have met what man?’ Over James, a frown.
‘Captain Broadman’s passenger, sir. Olaf Christian den Norske.’
‘You met him? You conversed with him?’
‘Very brief.’
‘Then you know why he is in the ship! Why he goes to America! Good heaven, James, why did not y’tell me this at once!’
‘No, sir, I do not know.’ Shaking his head, holding up a hand.
‘What?’
‘I spoke to him only half a minute. He came into the great cabin whilst I was there, and Captain Broadman was very angry with him for doing so. I could discover nothing beyond his name.’
‘Nothing at all? Good God, James, what a wasted opportunity!’ Rennie was now up on his legs, very agitated. ‘Could not you have put in at least a question or two to the fellow?’
‘No, sir, I could not.’
Rennie turned away in exasperation, then turned back to James and: ‘Indeed, could not y’have contrived to bring him with you, when you escaped in the boat? Hey?’
That would have been quite impossible, sir. The—’
‘Why impossible? Why? You escaped, after all, and all of your boat’s crew! Why could not you have—’
‘Sir, with respect.’ James, very firmly, over him. ‘We escaped with our lives, yes. But we did so by pure good fortune, above anything else. Pure good luck.’
‘Luck! There is no such thing, good or bad! I ask you again, why did not—’
‘Sir, I had no notion where in Terces Mr den Norske was quartered! Nor had I—’
‘Pray do not shout at me, sir! When I ask a question of you, you will reply in a moderate tone, and dutiful too, by God!’
‘I beg your pardon, sir.’ Stiffly correct.
‘Yes, well well.’ A sniff. A brief grimace. ‘It don’t do for two sea officers to talk vexatious, when they have exacting duties to perform, and a long cruise ahead. I accept your apology. Cutton! – Cutton!
‘I am here, sir.’ Cutton attended, carrying in a tray.
‘Well, is that the pie I requested?’
‘I was unable to ob-tain no pie, but I has found cheese, sir, and biscuits.’
‘No pie, you idle bugger?’
‘Cheese will be very welcome, sir.’ James, looking eagerly at the tray, which Cutton set down on the table.
‘This is infamous.’ Rennie, persisting. ‘There is always cold pie in the ship, kept in the pantry.’
‘Yes, well, the pantry is locked, sir.’
‘Then unlock it, man. Christ’s blood, are ye helpless?’
‘Really, it is quite all right, sir. I will gladly eat the cheese.’ James was famished.
‘We will neither of us eat cheese, Mr Hayter, while ever there is cold pie available. I will like a wedge of pie, myself. I find that I am hungry. D’y’hear me, Cutton?’ A glare.
‘Yes, sir, as I ain’t deaf. Howsomever, the pantry is locked, and the cook Mr Swallow has got the key, sir.’
‘Then go to Mr Swallow.’ With sighing patience. ‘Go to him, ask him to give you the key, and then unlock the fucking pantry with it.’
‘Mr Swallow . . . is incapac’tated.’
‘What? He is what?’
‘He is drunk, sir.’
‘Christ in tears. Sentry!’
‘Sir?’ The Marine sentry, opening the door.
‘Nay, nay – never mind.’ Another sigh, waving the sentry away. To Cutton: ‘Leave the bloody cheese then, damn you, and bring us another bottle of wine.’
‘As you wish, sir.’
‘For Christ’s sake don’t say “as you wish”. And don’t sidle away like a crab, man. “Ay-ay, sir”, make your back straight, and behave seamanlike.’
Presently, when they had eaten their cheese and drunk their wine, Rennie spread charts, weighted them with leads, and took up dividers. Tapping and pointing:
‘My charts ain’t detailed eastward beyond the mouth of the fjord, or rather the two mouths, since the entrance is divided by these islands. No matter. In order to return to the open sea, Terces must sail west again. We will lie in wait for her. I have ordered a darkened ship, and absolute silence on deck. No calls, no bells, no orders given aloud. All instruction to be passed by signal of hand along the deck.’
A breath, a nod, and he pointed the dividers at another place on the largest chart.
‘We must not forget that Danish brig, in course. Her captain was unwilling to engage me and my eighteen-pounders, with his much smaller guns. That was wise in him, very wise, since I would certainly have smashed him to splinters. Yet I do not trust him, James. He may well lie hid somewhere among these islands, ready to make mischief.’
‘Mischief, sir?’ James, putting down his wineglass.
‘You was aboard the brig, James. You met her captain. How did he present himself? Is he intelligent, would y’say? Wily?’
‘He did not say more than a few words to me the whole time I was held in the brig. I know nothing of his character, beyond . . .’
‘Yes?’ Glancing at him.
‘Well, it is only a guess, you know. My sense was, sir, that he did not like performing that particular duty, bringing prisoners from a boat into Bergen, and then handing them over. It vexed him.’
‘He was angry with you for inconveniencing him, James?’ Puzzled.
‘No, sir. I repeat, he spoke no more than a few words of English to me. Yet I detected his displeasure in having to undertake the duty he had been given . . . because I think he had been kept in the dark as to its purpose.’
‘Ha-ha, well well.’ A jerk of the head. ‘It would appear the Danish navy ain’t dissimilar to the British, in that regard. Hey?’
‘Not dissimilar, sir.’ A smile.
‘Sea officers are often kept blindfolded by those ashore, as we know to our cost, and the Danish fellow – did you tell me his name?’
‘Captain Arbus, sir.’
‘Captain Arbus don’t know what this affair is all about, because he has not been told. Yes, all he has been told is that he must assist Captain Broadman, an Englishman in an English ship, and must keep watch on me, another Englishman in another English ship. I wonder if his duties do include any kind of belligerent action against Expedient. Do they include opening fire on me, perhaps from a place of concealment, among these damned islands?’ Tapping the chart again with the dividers, and frowning.
‘Surely he would not risk that, sir, for the reasons you gave just a moment ago. He cannot harm us with his little guns, and would not dare to try, since we would certainly smash him with ours.’
‘In a direct confrontation at sea, exactly so. However, if he fired from a place of concealment astern of me – a narr
ow inlet, as an instance – he could smash my rudder and inflict other vital damage with one accurate broadside, James. Any ship, however stout, is weakest through her stern. He could cripple me, in truth, and my pursuit of Terces would in effect be finished. By the time I had repaired, Terces would be gone into the open sea and lost to me. I lost her once, and found her again, but I cannot trust to such luck a second time.’
‘Luck, sir?’
‘Eh?’ Looking up from the chart.
‘I thought that you did not believe in luck, sir.’ Feigning surprise.
‘Good God, when have I ever said that? Anything may happen at sea, and every man of us must hope for good fortune above all things.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘I cannot imagine what gave you such an idea. A sea officer that don’t believe in luck? I will not like to sail with him, by God. I don’t want him anywhere near to me, not afloat nor ashore, neither.’
‘Oh, I am in accord, sir.’ A vigorous nod.
A sniff. ‘Now then, James, I had meant to ask you, and then was distracted by Captain Arbus and his brig. What is your opinion of Captain Broadman? Describe him to me. Leave nothing out, I want to understand him in every distinction, and you are the only officer that has met him face to face, and conversed with him.’
‘I will do my be—’
‘And then I will like to hear an accurate account of his ship. Tell me everything. Is she weatherly, what are her strengths and weaknesses, how does her crew perform? How well do they fight their guns? And so forth, and so forth. Leave nothing out, you apprehend me?’
‘Yes, sir. I will do my best.’ And James continued his account, interrupted at frequent intervals by his captain’s probing questions.
Expedient had proceeded, according with Rennie’s orders to his sailing master and first lieutenant, to the narrowest place in the fjord, and then concealed herself – with much application of the sounding lead – as near behind a high rocky spit as Mr Loftus deemed safe in confining, dangerous darkness. There she lay in wait, with an anchor watch and lookouts in addition to the usual sea watches, through the night.
‘We cannot fail to notice Terces as she slips by. The moment she has done so, we will follow, very discreet and quiet.’ Rennie, in a hoarse whisper to James as they had ventured on deck after their supper.
‘You are quite certain, sir, that Captain Broadman will not notice us?’
‘We are concealed, James.’ A confident nod. ‘Look to the immediate east. What d’y’see?’
‘Erm . . . nothing at all, sir.’ Peering.
‘Exact It is a black rock face, as black as a dungeon. Now south. Well?’
‘Nothing to the south, neither . . . oh, wait, though. Yes, just a glimmer of reflected light across the surface of the fjord.’
‘When he crosses that place, when he slips through that “glimmer”, James, I shall have him.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘You have your flask with you?’
‘No, sir. I left it below in my cabin.’
‘Ah, well well, a pity. The night air is chill.’ Sniffing in that chill. ‘No matter.’
The two sea officers waited on the fo’c’sle – never talking above a whisper, always standing very quiet, or sitting next a gun – until the dawn sent grey shadows stealing over the cold still water beyond.
There was no sign of Terces. She had not passed.
‘He cannot have got past us, for the love of God.’ Rennie, as he and Lieutenant Hayter sat down to breakfast in the great cabin. Behind them Colley Cutton raised the shutters from the stern-gallery windows and secured them to the deckhead. Morning light lay across the table, and gleamed on silver.
‘I do not think so, sir, no.’ James sucked down hot coffee.
‘Then where is he, damn his blood?’ Rennie drank tea, rinsing it through his teeth before swallowing.
‘Sir, I think you said our charts of this particular fjord were not very accurate.’
‘Just so, they ain’t. They are approximate only, at the entrance, and to the east. But if Broadman wishes to reach the open sea direct, surely he must return through these narrows, past us.’
‘We are quite certain of that, sir?’ Putting down his cup.
‘Speak plain.’ A jerk of his head.
‘Well, sir . . . given that our charts show nothing but an approximate outline of the fjord to the east, it may be that there is another arm of the fjord, that leads out to the north.’
Rennie got up on his legs and moved to the charts at the other end of the table. James pushed back his chair and followed, and pointed.
‘All these islands lying to the north. Isn’t it possible that among them lie other mouths, other entrances to this same fjord, which may have other arms or spurs, shown as separate and distinct fjords, here, and here – but all in fact part of the same one? Leading to other avenues of escape?’ Tapping the chart with his fingertip.
Rennie glanced at him, ran a hand through his sparse hair, and rubbed the side of his neck. A sniffing breath, and:
‘Yes, I must confess that did cross my mind, earlier, but then I dismissed it as far-fetched and improbable. There would be an indication, on at least one of these charts, of such connection between bodies of water. They may be incomplete, but I cannot believe such a glaring error could occur. I am certain Terces is still here, hiding in this fjord to the east. If she will not come out, we must go and find her, James.’
‘Will not that defeat our intention of following her discreetly into the open sea?’
‘I don’t think Their Lordships will like me to lie idle. If I cannot follow Terces discreet, then I must follow her close. One way or t’other, she must be pursued.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Without enthusiam.
‘You don’t like it, hey?’ Lifting his head and looking at James.
An urgent knocking at the door. Rennie turned.
‘Yes?’
Colley Cutton hurried to open the door, but before he reached it the door was thrust open and Lieutenant Leigh appeared, the Marine sentry at his shoulder.
‘Sir, there is a Danish frigate in the fjord, heading east toward our position!’
‘Surely you mean a brig, Mr Leigh?’
‘No, sir, no! It is a frigate of thirty-two guns! Twelve-pounders, I believe!’
Rennie snatched up his hat, coat and long glass, and went on deck. James followed.
The frigate, wearing Danish colours, was plainly in view to the west, about half a league distant.
‘Mr Leigh.’ Rennie lowered his glass. ‘We will weigh and make sail, and tack west into the fjord. The moment we are under way, we will then beat to quarters. I am going to meet this fellow head to head, with my guns run out, so there can be no mistaking my intent.’
Orders bawled, the calls sounding, and rushing activity through the ship. The anchor raised, the foresail unfurled and sheeted home, yards braced. Further orders as the ship began to move, and the rattle of the Marine’s drum. The decks cleared, and great guns run out. Rennie stood at the breast-rail, his glass again raised, and watched the frigate approaching. Presently, to James at his side:
‘Foreign waters or no, I am damned if I will be rushed at from all sides like a stag at bay. Any fellow that rushes at me will feel my horns at his throat, by Christ.’
James thought but did not say that he had never yet seen a stag at bay on water, nor indeed a stag at sea at all.
‘Starboard battery ready, sir!’ Mr Leigh, presently.
‘Very good. Wait for my signal. I shall take off my hat and raise it over my head.’
A period of quiet as the two ships approached each other across the breeze-freshened, sun-glittering water. Expedient sailed into the centre of the fjord on the starboard tack, and James was newly aware of the magnificence of the spectacle, the snowy grandeur of the mountains away to the east, the steep shadows of the rock faces, the vivid green of the slopes and forests, all heightened and sharpened by the clarity of the air across
great distance.
A puff of smoke at the Danish frigate’s bow, and a column of spray ahead of Expedient. At the same moment the sound of the gun, and a series of reverberations.
James saw Rennie’s hand go to his hat, and in alarm:
‘Sir, I believe that was merely a signal.’
‘It was a gun.’ Rennie, curtly.
‘Yes, to bring home his point, I expect, sir.’
‘What point? That he wishes to engage?’
‘That he wishes us to heave to and speak.’
‘I cannot agree with you, Mr Hayter. I will not be rushed at and bested a second time.’ And again his hand went to his hat.
‘Sir, if you please, I will go in the pinnace and discover what her captain wants of us.’
‘Go in the pinnace? When we have been fired upon? Have you gone mad, Mr Hayter?’ Lowering his hand as he turned in exasperation to James.
‘No, sir, indeed I have not.’
A second puff of smoke from the Danish ship’s bow, and a second column of spray, this time immediately off Expedient’s starboard bow. The report, and its thudding echoes.
‘God damn the impertinent wretch. I will not be fired upon without cause.’ But Rennie’s hand did not go again to his hat. Instead he lifted his glass, and peered.
‘I think that had his intentions been other than peaceable, sir, he would already have given us a broadside with his larboard battery . . . don’t you think so?’
Rennie made no reply, and continued to focus his glass on the approaching frigate.
‘Could we not fire one gun in reply, sir?’
Rennie was silent a moment, then he lowered his glass, leaned over the breast rail, and:
‘Mr Leigh! Aim ahead of the frigate, and fire number one starboard gun.’
‘Ay-ay, sir!’ The orders given, and
BANG
Flaming smoke from the gunport, boiling out over the water, and a smash of spray so close to the Danish frigate’s bow that for a moment her bowsprit was obscured.
‘Christ Jesu, he will think that was a deliberately aimed shot.’ James, half to himself.
The Danish frigate abruptly changed course, going over from the starboard to the larboard tack. A series of red-orange flashes along her larboard port strake, and twelve-pound roundshot sang and droned in menacing concert past Expedient’s stern, and made erupting fountains of her wake. Concussive echoes of the reports all round the fjord.
The Pursuit Page 17
