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by Dennis Wheatley


  2

  A Bitter Blow

  On their first evening at sea, when they went down to Captain Absolom's state cabin for dinner, they found that he had one other passenger, who was introduced as Mr; Silas van Wyck. He was a fine-looking, ruddy-faced, middle-aged American of Dutch descent, well-dressed and with pleasant manners. They soon learned that he was a merchant and that his family had traded in woollen goods with England for several generations, so he had excellent business connections in Yorkshire and intended to pick up a cargo of woollen goods in Hull for the return voyage to' Sweden.

  As Roger had heard so little about this new war in which Britain was engaged, he was eager to learn from the Americans how it was progressing. Captain Absolom's natural interest in the effect of the war at sea led him to reply to Roger's questions.

  'We folks are in such a poor way for naval craft that there's little we can do against you English. When trouble started, way back in '07, we had only twelve frigates. Mr. Jefferson did nothin' to better matters. He even allowed three of those to rot at their moorings. We've not a single ship-o'-the-line, and last year there were built only two eighteen gun sloops and two sixteen-gun brigs.'

  'Nevertheless,' put in Mr. van Wyck, 'we're a thorn in the side of the British. Seven years have passed since Trafalgar and in that time Boney's many naval yards from Copenhagen round to Venice have been far from idle. He has again a powerful fleet at his disposal, and Britain needs all the ships she has to keep his squadrons in their ports. Every sail she despatches across the Atlantic to blockade us renders her more vulnerable to her great enemy.'

  ‘Aye,' agreed the Captain. ‘Yer right in that, Sir. And to blockade us effectively she'd need to send many more ships than she dare afford. In the Indies and along our southern coast where clement weather mostly prevails she can bottle us up in our ports. But not in the north. No, Sir! The New England coast has rugged shores and is subject to tempestuous weather. The elements there are our friends and render it impossible for British squadrons to keep station. From Boston, Narragansett and New York our frigates be free to come an' go much as they will, and have roved far out into the ocean, even as far as Madeira and the English Channel. On these voyages our principal Captains: Decatur, Bainbridge and John Rogers, have had good success interfeerin' with British commerce. There have, too, been several actions by our ships against vessels of the Royal Navy.'

  'How did they fare in these encounters?' Roger en­quired with interest.

  'Toward the end of August Captain Isaac Hull, in Constitution, come up with the British frigate Guerriere, and give her a rare pasting. Dismasted her and holed her with thirty shot below the water line. She hauled down her flag and was so bad damaged that come mornin' they had to take off the prisoners and sink her.'

  'To be fair,' remarked van Wyck, 'it should be stated that, although 'tis said Captain Hull handled Constitution in a most creditable manner, she had a broadside weigh­ing seven hundred and thirty-six pounds against the. Guerriere's five hundred and seventy; so an advantage of thirty per cent over the British ship.'

  "Tis true; but our sloop Wasp had no such advantage in her fight with the brig Frolic. They bombarded each other till both were near wrecks, yet 'twas the American who boarded the Britisher an' forced her to surrender. That Wasp was later robbed of her prize and taken her­self by a British ship-o'-the-line coming on the scene was just durned bad luck. In October, too, Captain Decatur's United States bashed and captured the Macedonian, al­though there agin, I'll admit that the American was much the more powerful o'the two.'

  'It seems then,' Mary smiled, 'that although we lost both the Guerriere and Macedonian the honours due to Captains and crews were not uneven.'

  'What of the war on land ?' Roger asked.

  Van Wyck shook his head, 'There again we are paying the price of our lack of preparation. When Mr. Madison succeeded Jefferson as President, our army numbered fewer than seven thousand, and Madison was shockingly tardy in making our country ready for war. 'Twas not until last January a Bill was passed authorising an increase up to thirty-five thousand. When last I heard, not half that number had been raised, and our forces must still consist mainly of raw recruits. There are also other factors that render it anything but formidable. Close on forty years have elapsed since our War of Independence, so very few of our troops have had any experience of war. Again, owing to Jefferson's intense antipathy to closer Fed­eration, the Militia in one State is not compelled to serve in any other. By now the law may have been altered, but to begin with it made the concentration of any consider­able force on the Canadian frontier out of the question.-

  'How have matters so far gone there ?'

  'Badly for my country, Mr. Brook. As I just now re­marked, it is over half a life time since American soldiers were called on to fight a more capable enemy than tribes of Indians. For senior officers who had any experience of a white man's war we could call only on men who were no more than youngsters during our War of Independence and are now in their sixties. The command of the north-­eastern front, from Niagara to Boston, was given to Major General Henry Dearborn, and the north-western, consist­ing mainly of the isthmus between Lakes Erie and Huron, to Brigadier William Hull, uncle to Captain Hull of the Constitution.

  'These two greyheads—one might say amateurs at war—were pitted against a most redoubtable opponent, the Lieutenant-General of Upper Canada, Isaac Brock, with his British regulars. General Brock is only forty-two and a master of his trade. He at once seized the initiative.

  'Realising the importance of gaining allies among the Indian tribes by persuading them that they would be on the winning side, he at once despatched a detachment of two hundred troops and four hundred Indians to the nar­rows between Lakes Huron and Michigan. They took our garrison there at Fort Mackinac by surprise, captured it and so secured Brock's western flank.

  'Our first attack was launched in the Niagara area which lies between Lake Ontario and Lake Erie. It seems that Brock foresaw that would be so and, as the British had a strong superiority of armed vessels on both lakes, felt confident that he could hold it. So he sent his main force down to the western end of Lake Erie and strongly reinforced the garrisons at Fort Maiden and Amhurstburg.

  'Meanwhile, Hull had brought his force up the Maumee river to Frenchtown on the shore of the lake. From; there, intending to reinforce Detroit, he rashly sent ahead of him a ship carrying his baggage and papers. The British, captured it, and sent the papers to Brock. Undeterred by this calamity, Hull, still more rashly, crossed into Canada and based himself on Sandwich with the intention of lay­ing siege to Fort Maiden.

  'All this happened in mid-July, but it was well into August before he could get his artillery into position and begin the siege. By then Brock who, incidentally, had served under Wellington at Copenhagen, had arrived on the scene, and soon forced Hull to retreat on Detroit. By the 16th of the month Brock had surrounded that impor­tant town and forced Hull to capitulate with his whole army of two thousand five hundred men.5

  Although it was a British victory, Mary could not for­bear to exclaim sympathetically, 'Oh, how terrible for the poor man!'

  'It was, indeed,' van Wyck agreed. 'But it was due to his own folly and over-confidence. That same month, too, our attempts to invade Canada on the Niagara front and north from Lake Champlain both failed.'

  ' 'Tis true our armies took a beating,' put in Captain Absolom, 'but our seamen on the lakes showed better mettle.'

  Van Wyck nodded. 'Yes, in their encounters they have shown themselves the equals of the British; although at first it went hard with them. Captain Chauncy was given command of our few ships on the lakes and planned to build others. He sent a hundred and forty shipwrights and over a hundred cannon up to Sacketts Harbour, whichf' lies at no great distance from our side of the entrance to the St. Lawrence river. Unfortunately, his choice of place was too close. Opposite it lies the considerable town of Kingston. Ships from there were able to fire upon the building yard, so dro
ve the shipwrights to abandon their work.'

  'Aye, Sir,' put in Absolom, 'but Lieutenant Elliot proved a wiser man in choosing Squaw Island. Behind it he built two three-hundred-tonners, then proved himself a real hero.'

  With a smile van Wyck turned to Roger. 'Captain Absolom is right in that. We may well be proud of young Elliot. Early in October two British armed brigs crossed the lake from Fort Maiden and anchored off Fort Erie. At one o'clock in the morning of the 9th, Elliot took a hundred seamen in two longboats. At 3 a.m. he brought them alongside the brigs and boarded them, capturing both with hardly a shot fired.'

  Roger returned the smile and, as a courtesy, raised his glass. 'That was the real Nelson touch. Here's a health to him.'

  When they had drunk he said, 'I take it that by then winter was closing in, so put an end to the campaigning season?'

  After a moment van Wyck admitted, a shade reluc­tantly, 'There was one more major engagement. At dawn on October 13th a large force under General Van Reusselaer attempted to seize the heights of Kingston, at the head of Lake Ontario. Six hundred regular troops took the heights, then General Brock arrived with reinforce­ments from Fort George, but was killed in the first charge he led. Such a disaster for the British should have given us a certain victory. We were robbed of it by the cowardice of bur own people. The regiments of unseasoned recruits who should have supported the attack refused to cross the river. In consequence, Van Reusselaer and the brave men with him were driven from the cliff down to the river, and there compelled to surrender.'

  'A sad business,' Roger commented. 'And, although your force lost the battle, from all you have told me the loss of such a brilliant Commander may well prove an even more serious blow to us.'

  By this time the Cape Cod had passed the point of Den­mark and entered the Skagerrak, so she was pitching in a medium rough sea. Roger, who had always been a bad sailor, had already begun to feel queasy, so he excused himself and went with Mary to their cabin.

  He managed to keep down his dinner and got through the night, but by midday next day the weather had worsened and he suffered his first bout of sea-sickness in the Cape Cod. Fortunately, Mary proved to be a good sailor, so was able to look after and comfort him as best she could by telling him that Captain Absolom had said that, if the present favourable wind held, they would reach Hull within two or, at the most, three more days.

  It was on the following afternoon that the Cape Cod met with another American merchantman, and the two Captains exchanged news through loud-hailers. At the time Roger was still in his cabin but feeling better; so, half-an-hour later, he went up on deck to get some fresh air.

  While leaning over the gunwale on the poop with Mary, he noticed that below them, amidships, Captain Absolom was conferring with a group of men which included his two mates, Silas van Wyck, the bosun and the super­cargo. A few minutes later the group broke up, the Cap­tain came up on to the poop and shouted several orders. These resulted in the ship changing course from south­west to north.

  Van Wyck had followed the Captain up on to the poop. Looking far from happy, he walked over to the Brooks, and Roger asked, 'What means it that the ship has been put about?'

  'It means bad news for you both,' the American replied, 'and for myself, as I'll incur a serious financial loss. So, too, will many British merchants. The ship Captain Absolom spoke with a while back gave us most unwel­come tidings. The British Government recently decided to cut off their noses to spite their faces. They have now de­creed a complete blockade against all United States ships, under whatever flag they may be flying. Do we enter Hull, or any other English port, the Cape Cod will be impound­ed and her crew become prisoners of war.'

  'Surely you do not mean . . .' Roger gasped.

  'I do, and can only condole with you. At the meeting amidships just held, Captain Absolom spoke with the senior members of his crew. They were of the unanimous opinion that even to lie off some small port and unload our cargo by lighter would now be too great a risk. So the Cape Cod will keep to the open ocean and head for her home port, New York.'

  3

  A Lovers' Quarrel

  A little before midday on the day when Roger and Mary were married in Stockholm, a handsome young man was sitting on the side of the bed of a very pretty girl, who was staying at his town mansion in Berkeley Square.

  The girl had auburn hair and fine blue eyes. Her name was Susan, and she was Roger Brook's daughter. She had been presented at Court the previous season and was just over seventeen.

  Her companion was Charles, Earl of St. Ermins. He had inherited the tall figure and dark good looks of his ancestor, King Charles II, and was some six months older than the girl. His mother was Georgina, now, by a later marriage, Duchess of Kew.

  Georgina and Roger had been life-long lovers; but, as a secret agent, he had spent much the greater part of the past twenty years abroad. In consequence, as Roger's wife Amanda had died when giving birth to Susan, Georgina had played the part of a mother to her. She had shared a nursery with little Charles and they had been brought up as brother and sister, sharing every joy, anxiety, distress and naughty prank.

  Both had long held the opinion that neither could be equalled by any contemporary of the other sex and, at the age of twelve, they had secretly and solemnly become engaged. Neither of them had ever referred since to the matter, but both took it for granted that in due course they would marry and, after greeting Susan in her bed­room that morning, Charles had given her, if not a lover's kiss, something very near it.

  That night Georgina was giving a New Year's Eve ball for them. For a few minutes they talked of a new dress that Susan meant to wear, then Charles said, a shade nervously:

  'M'dear. I hate to break it to you, but you will have to choose another partner for the supper dance tonight.'

  Susan's blue eyes opened wide and she exclaimed, 'What mean you? I fail to understand. We always have the supper dance together.'

  ‘I know it and am much distressed.'

  'Oh, come, Charles! We agreed long since that both of us should amuse ourselves with such flirts as we wished. And you've made no secret of it that your latest is that Irish wench, Lady Luggala's daughter—what is her name?—yes, Jemima. Surely you do not intend to break our custom on her account ?'

  'No, no!' He shook his head. ‘I find Jemima most amus­ing company, for she is witty and no prude. But I'd not cut a supper dance with you for any woman. 'Tis that after we have seen the New Year in I have another party that I have promised to attend.'

  Susan frowned. 'A party of what kind ?'

  'It is with friends I made whilst in London during the autumn. It is a very special occasion for them, otherwise I would not desert you.'

  'Dam'me, I don't believe you.' Her voice rose angrily. 'Naught but a woman could induce you to throw me over in this way.'

  'Nay, you are wrong in that. There will be women there, of course, but no-one to whom I am especially attracted. It is, in fact, just a club that provides unusual diversions in which I have become interested.'

  'A club indeed! What sort of club? Charles, be honest. Is it that, now we are again in London, you mean to explore the pleasures of a brothel ?'

  He bridled. 'No. This is no brothel. Though had I no prospect of relieving the emotions you arouse in me with some attractive woman, I'd not hesitate to go to one. Anyone of my age needs such an outlet from time to time. I told you last summer how I had first achieved man's estate with Mama's maid Harriet, and before she married our coachman last month enjoyed her a number of times. I told you, too, how I paid a midnight visit to Lady Wessex's bedroom while she was staying with us at Stillwaters over Christmas. In neither case did you show any undue perturbation, so why question my actions now?'

  This was true enough. Susan had accepted the canons of her day and age that, from their late teens men were entitled to seek sexual satisfaction where they would, whereas girls of good family were required to remain chaste until they married. Then, if it was a love match,
a wife could expect her husband to remain faithful to her, at least for a few years. Later perhaps both might seek pastures new, but in all other ways remain loyal to each other. Knowing that she aroused Charles's desires, she had felt it would be unreasonable to object to his satisfy­ing his physical passions with other women; but only with the proviso that she retained his love.

  And now that was the crux of the matter. For Charles to be slipping away from a ball given in his own house seemed to her a certain indication that he had started an

  affair with some woman, and had become so enamoured that he could not bring himself to refuse her demand to celebrate the New Year by sleeping with her. To probe the matter further, she asked:

  'This club you speak of, with its unusual diversions. What form do they take?'

  'That I cannot tell you,' he replied. 'I have been sworn to secrecy.'

  Tears started to her eyes. 'Charles, you're lying to cover up an intrigue. Are we now, after all these years, to start haying secrets from each other ?'

  'That is the last thing I would wish,' he protested, then tried to take her hand. But she snatched it from him.

  Hesitantly he said, 'I pray you bear with me in this. Although I am bound to secrecy about what takes place, I can at least give you some idea of the type of gathering I mean to attend. Have you ever heard of the Hell Fire Club?'

  She nodded. 'I've heard vague talk of it. Back in the last century, statesmen and other prominent men used to meet on an island up the Thames. There was a ruined abbey there, in which they performed strange rites and copu­lated with women whom they imported for that purpose.'

  'You are right. And it is to a revival of the Hell Fire Club that I belong. I find the secrets of the occult that are disclosed to me there most fascinating.'

  'And, no doubt, the woman you are taking with you.'

 

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