Authors: Peter Smalley
'Is that wise, d'y'think?' Rennie had blurted, when James
gave the instruction to his steward purser.
James had frowned, glanced at Rennie and said, not quite
curtly: 'They have earned it. I have tested them, and they
have earned it.'
Rennie, knowing his error even as he spoke, had nodded
and said nothing more.
As they finished breakfast a small vessel was sighted to the
south. They went on deck, and Lieutenant Hayter put his
helm down and ran towards the sighted ship. She was a
cutter.
'Can it be her?' Half to himself. 'Can that be the
Lark
?'
Aloud, lowering his glass: 'Mr Holmes! Where the devil is Mr
Holmes?' Glancing about. His senior mid was not on deck.
He had been on deck at the beginning of the watch. What in
Christ's name did he mean by absenting himself? 'Mr
Dench!' To the boatswain, who came aft from the waist. 'Mr
Dench, where is Mr Holmes, if y'please?'
'I ain't seen him since two bells, sir.'
Three bells was now struck at the belfry by the companionway
hatch.
'What! He has not been seen for half an hour! Christ's
blood, Mr Dench, this will not do at sea!'
'No, sir. I will find him – '
'We will beat to quarters, Mr Dench, and clear the ship for
action!'
A whack of wind as the call was sounded, and a further
passing sea rode heavily under the keel. James steadied
himself as hands thudded along the deck to their places, and
Hawk
ran on.
Mr Holmes could not be found, and presently the reason
became apparent. Dr Wing came on deck, bracing himself as
the wind flung itself into his face. Clutching at his hat:
'I must tell you, James – '
'Now then, Doctor, why have you come on deck? Your
place is below, at quarters.' Ducking his head as spray
showered over the quarterdeck. 'And you must address me as
"sir", you know.'
'Yes, in course, how foolish of me to forget. But I must tell
you – Ah, good morning, Captain Rennie.'
'Doctor.' A polite nod, standing well away.
'Yes, I must tell you that Mr Holmes has been took ill.' To
James, formally.
'Ill? D'y'mean he is puking, Doctor? That don't excuse his
absenting himself from the deck. We must all suffer
seasickness from time to time.' Severely.
'It is not seasickness, I fear.' Gravely.
'What d'y'mean?'
'I mean that he is very seriously ill. I fear there is a rupture
of the bowel. He is in great pain, and cannot stand.'
'Cannot you do something for him, Thomas?'
'At sea? No.'
'Not at sea, you say?' Glancing away at the other cutter.
'No, sir. No, we must get him on dry land, right quick. He
must be got into the Haslar. That may be his only chance.'
'Only chance?' Jerking his head round to look hard at
Thomas Wing. 'You are saying that he may die?'
'I am.'
James took a breath, glanced again at the other cutter, and:
'Then we have no choice. Very good, thank you, Doctor.'
Raising his voice. 'Mr Dench! We will stand down!' To the
helmsman: 'Put your helm up now, and we will run before,
due east.'
The call, and the men at quarters stood down from their
guns, the ship came off the wind, veered east handsomely,
reefs were let out, and her great-bellied mainsail filled with
the following wind.
Below, Mr Wentworth Holmes, senior midshipman, lay
livid and staring in his hanging cot, his fair hair darkened with
sweat and clinging to his scalp. He did not speak, he did not
cry out. He lay silent and still, his whole being consumed by
pain.
Away to the south-west the mystery cutter kept to her
course, dipping a little on the swell, her mast heeling tall
and graceful and her pennant streaming as she ran closehauled.
When Mr Midshipman Holmes had been taken in a fainting
condition into the Haslar Hospital at Gosport, accompanied
there by Dr Wing, Lieutenant Hayter came on to the Mary
Rose Inn at Thomas Street, and asked for Mr Birch. Soon he
and Rennie were able to converse, in the privacy of Rennie's
little room, Rennie perched on his narrow bed, and James on
a stool.
'What of the young man?'
'Holmes? I do not know. Thomas Wing looked very dark,
I thought, as the boy was took in.'
'Yes, yes – the boy looked very poorly when I left you to
come on here. He may die. Hm. Had you thought of a
replacement?'
'Eh? No, I had not, not yet. It is too precipitate early to
think of that.'
'Hm. It is never too soon to make provision you know,
James. Anything may – '
'– happen at sea.' Finishing for him. 'Yes, you are right. But
I will not like to anticipate the worst outcome just yet.' A
breath, and: 'I am nearly certain it was the
Lark
we sighted.
You saw her raked mast? Her prodigious spread of canvas?
Her lines, and speed?'
'I saw a pretty enough cutter, at a league and more
distance, making fair headway in the English Channel into a
stiffish topsail breeze, James. I do not say outright she was not
the
Lark
, but I reckoned her at about sixty or seventy tons, no
more. The
Lark
is a bigger, heavier sea boat than that, is she
not?'
'I could not judge her size and weight exact, at a league and
more.'
'No no, in course y'could not. Hm. Mm. – Forgive me,
James, but I feel that I must speak up, now that we are again
ashore. You do not object?'
'I do not, sir.'
'Well well, to be blunt I do not see how you may take such
a vessel as the
Lark
in the Channel, nor anywhere along the
coast – smasher broadsides or no – by yourself. I ask myself
this: why was you not assigned another cutter to aid you, two
cutters, three? If this vessel you seek is so damned important,
or so damned inimical to the nation's interest, that the First
Lord takes it upon himself to become involved – why are not
you commanding a squadron of cutters, or indeed of brigs, or
ship sloops. Hey?'
'I do not know the answers to those questions, sir. I had
hoped to rely on Captain Marles to guide me, as you know,
and – '
'Had you considered the possibility that Sir Robert may be
involved in this?'
'Sir Robert Greer? Involve himself in my commission in
Hawk
? Surely you thought I had been given the commission
by Their Lordships, as a kind of reward, compensating me for
my losses in the tar paint scheme – had you not?'
'Well, I had thought that, but now I have changed my
mind, because – '
'Sir, I have discovered that my father was behind my
getting a new commission.'
'Your father? Then he must know all the facts of the thing.
Have you asked him what – '
'No, sir, no. I do not mean my father asked for me to be
given the
Hawk
. I think he used his influence to have his son
considered for a new commission, that is all. The
Hawk
was
to be acquired for a purpose, taken over from the Excise, that
had built her for themselves in a private yard at Dover. That
purpose, that duty, was given to me when my name was put
forward.'
'Then who was that fellow came to me at the Marine
Hotel, and demanded at pistol point to know what I knew
about you, about this command, how many ships we had, and
so forth?'
'Surely he cannot have come from Sir Robert, though. Else
Sir Robert must know of your presence here in Portsmouth,
that you have took great pains to conceal.'
'Aye, you are right. – Unless Sir Robert sent those highwaymen
to follow me on the road, and – '
'Sir, really you know – I do not think that probable.'
'Eh?' Sharply.
'I do not mean to suggest . . .' James found himself
awkward on the little stool, as if he were once again a
schoolboy engaged in fanciful discussion late at night, in
hushed tones, in a small, cold study room, by the light of a
single shielded candle-flame. 'I would never think you were
guilty of extravagant notions, sir, but I don't see how Sir
Robert could likely be the culprit, there. Nor do I think that
Sir Robert had a hand in the death – the murder – of Captain
Marles.'
'I never said that he did.' Indignant now. 'Good God.'
'Very good, sir, you did not.' James got up from the
uncomfortable stool. 'I must go to the Marine Hotel, and
discover whether or no Colonel Macklin has made headway
with his inquiry. And I must try again to find that wretch of a
steward, that I paid a pound to in wages, in order to secure his
employment. Then I had better return to
Hawk
, I expect.'
'You return to
Hawk
tonight? Why not spend the night
ashore, James, and I'll give you supper here at the Mary
Rose – '
'No, sir. No, it is kind in you, but I must think of my duty
– of what may become of Mr Holmes.'
Captain Rennie was not unaware of a returning friction
between them, and wondered at the cause. Lieutenant
Hayter, for his part, was entirely aware of the cause. He was
having second thoughts. He was having doubts. Was it wise
to have asked his erstwhile commander to go aboard
Hawk
at
all? How could they remain on amiable terms, when a man
of Rennie's temperament, and experience – used to commanding
men, to being Lieutenant Hayter's superior – was in
the nature of things bound to begin to assert himself as if he
was still in that position? And then, in course, there was the
fact of the debt – the two hundred pound debt.
'Will you like me to come aboard on the morrow, James?'
'I must study the recorded movements of the
Lark
, the
dates, tides, and so forth, and decide whether I should again
attempt to take her. Perhaps she will not likely appear again
for a time. Perhaps not before a fortnight, or a month, even
. . . if it was the
Lark
we sighted.'
'You do not wish me to go aboard.' Rennie's voice was cold
and beginning hostile.
'No, sir, in course I do not mean that, nor anything like.
You are welcome in
Hawk
at any time. But where is the sense
in your living cramped aboard, living deprived of all comfort
– to no immediate purpose?' A little smiling sigh, and a brief
shrug, to make Rennie believe him.
'You will not weigh without me, James?' Lifting his head to
stare at Lieutenant Hayter very direct. 'You will not dash off
sudden and leave me behind?'
'Nay, I will not. There is nothing further from my mind.'
James returned to the Marine Hotel and found – not
Colonel Macklin, but Catherine, waiting for him on a chair
in the parlour, off the public lobby. A clerk directed him to
her, when James gave his name and asked for Colonel
Macklin. He went to her at once.
'My darling, you are here.'
'I am here.' They embraced, and he kissed her, tasted
chocolate on her lips, and felt himself dissolving into that
taste, and the scent of her, her bodily warmth and sweetness.
And yet again was astonished by her beauty – of which in
usual she was quite unconscious – that made him whenever he
saw her after an absence into a heart-thudding boy, near
breathless in her presence. A long moment, he released her,
and:
'You stay here at Portsmouth? My love, why did you not
say you were coming here, in your letters?'
'I did say so, in my last letter. Did you not read it? Oh,
James.' Pretending hurt.
'Yes, yes, in course I have read it.' Hastily. 'In truth, my
darling, I have been close occupied with many things, and – '
'You did not read my last letter – written so fond?'
'I may not have read it with the attention I ought.' Looking
at her, and now he saw that she was teasing him, and took her
in his arms again, and kissed her as a lover. At length:
'You have engaged rooms? Where is our son?'
'He is at Melton.'
'At Melton, ah.' His father's house, near Shaftesbury in
Dorset. 'Perhaps that is well, when I have so much to say to
you . . .'
'You do not wish to see your son?' Reproving him with a
smile.
'In course I wish to see him – but not now. Now I wish to
see his mother.'
'Look, I am here.'
'In private. I wish to see her altogether in private.' Holding
her.
'There is a gentleman . . .'
'What?' Kissing her, pushing his face in her hair and neck,
drinking her in.
'James.' Gently disengaging herself. 'My dear, there is a
gentleman at the door.'
'What? Who . . . ?' Reluctantly turning.
'My dear Hayter, do forgive me. I will not intrude now.'
And an embarrassed Colonel Macklin, getting red at his own
neck, began to turn away from the door of the parlour.
'Nay, nay, Colonel . . .' James frowned an apology to
Catherine, and stood away from her a little.
'Nay, I had left my name with the clerk, asking for you, and
I must not inconvenience you now. May I present you to my
wife? Colonel Macklin that is investigating – a matter.'
The formalities; Colonel Macklin made a leg; Catherine
acknowledged him with a polite smile.
'Colonel, will you allow me one moment more?' As the
colonel stepped away, James turned to Catherine. 'Are you
stopping here, my love?'
'Yes, here at the hotel.'
'Then you have engaged rooms. How on earth did you
manage it? Portsmouth is full to bursting.'
'I was persuasive, James. We have got a very small suite –
at the rear – very private.'
'But . . . how can we afford it?'
'I will tell you all my news when you have conducted your
business with the colonel. You must not keep him waiting.'
She gave him the number of the suite, kissed his cheek, and
retired by a rear door.
'What news, sir?' James, a moment after, as the colonel
came back into the parlour, the lobby and public rooms
beyond a-swirl with a large party of people, the sound of their
voices hubbub and din. 'Have we made progress, at all?'
'We have, a little. But I don't want to keep you from your
charming wife . . .'