The Hawk (21 page)

'Aye, Commander Carr, it is.'

Two boys had appeared at the door with buckets and
cloths, and they began the unrewarding task of mopping up.

Commander Carr sat briefly with his mouth open, became
aware that it was open, and closed it.

'I – I – am I to understand that this is your own seal, sir?'

'You are. It is.'

'Then, then – I must humbly beg your pardon, Your
Royal – '

'Nay, nay, plain Mr Hope, if y'please, Commander Carr. I
am here to advise and assist, at Their Lordships' request,
mmm . . . in a private capacity.'

'Private, Your . . . Mr Hope?'

'Mm-mm, private. The whole matter is private, in its way,
you know. Nothing of this will ever be acknowledged, should
questions be asked afterward.'

'Ah. Oh.'

'Mr Abey?' James, to his senior mid, who had reappeared
to check on the boys.

'Sir?'

'Will you discover what the cook has achieved in regard to
our next remove? Tell him we shall soon starve in the great
cabin if we are not fed, will you?'

'Shall I tell him to come to you, sir?'

'No no, Richard. Send only our victuals, tell him, as quick
as he likes.'

'Very good, sir.' His hat off and on, and he went forrard.

The two boys finished their work, touched their foreheads,
and followed. The stink of vomit had now been eradicated,
the cabin was redolent of vinegar and lye, and James gave his
guests more wine. Soon the cook's mate brought their main
dish in a covered kid. James dismissed the man with a jerk of
his head, and served his guests himself.

'Let us eat, gentlemen.'

'Indeed, let's.' Mr Hope. 'Thankee, Mr Hayter.' As his
plate was filled. 'And when we have ate, let us get down to
business.' Glancing at James, and at Commander Carr. 'Our
business, here at sea. Hey?'

They ate, Commander Carr not quite at his ease, since he
had never before broken bread – leave alone eaten sea pie –
with a prince of the blood. All the gusty, blustering wind had
been stolen from his sails, and he was almost entirely docile.
However, fortified by the rich stew and a further glass of wine:

'You said something, sir, just now. Our business. Our
business at sea. May we know your meaning?'

'We are to find and take the
Lark
, gentlemen.'

'Indeed, sir.' Commander Carr, glancing at James. 'The
question is – why?'

'So it is, Commander Carr, so it is.' Regarding him. He
turned his head and regarded James a moment. 'You know
why, do not ye, Mr Hayter?'

'I do, sir.'

'It cannot be simply a matter of her smuggling activity, I
assume?' Commander Carr did not get a direct answer to this
question. Instead:

'Her master is one Aidan Faulk. Ye've heard that name?'
Mr Hope looked at Commander Carr.

'No, sir.'

'No.' A brief nod, and he wiped his lips with his napkin.
'We will like to interview with Mr Faulk, and discover –
certain intelligence.'

'When you say "we", Mr Hope,' Commander Carr met his
gaze, 'd'y'mean Their Lordships and yourself, sir? Or . . .
others?'

'Oh, Their Lordships certainly have an interest in seeing
him took.' Inclining his head. 'As to others, I will say . . . yes,
there is others wish it. You will ask me again, why. Mr Faulk
is a very resourceful fellow. An educated fellow, that might
be described as a person of independent mind. From
boyhood he loved the sea, and boats. His father had
interests in merchant shipping, and the boy was indulged in
his passion for sailing. He is now possessed of a considerable
private fortune, some of which he used to purchase the
Lark
from – '

'From Sedley Ward,' James broke in, forgetting for a
moment that Mr Hope's not precisely truthful explication
was for the benefit of Commander Carr, who was not to be
taken fully into their confidence, but employed merely as a
useful ally should they come to action. James bit his lip. Mr
Hope looked at him very direct, and:

'Indeed, from Captain Ward, that has since died in a
tropick place. To continue . . .'

'I beg your pardon, sir.'

'To continue, Mr Faulk did first come to the attention of
your Board, Commander Carr, in regard to his smuggling
activity.'

'We have pursued the
Lark
for some time, sir – without
success. We did not know the name of her master.'

'Smuggling is a long-established practice along these
coasts. The Board of Excise does its duty, and the Board of
Customs. You Revenuers are very assiduous, I am in no
doubt.' A little shrug, a little pushing-out of the lips. 'But we
know, do not we, gentlemen – if we are candid – that even the
most respectable country priest, even the most upstanding
gentleman farmer, ain't above acquirin' his brandy and his
cheroots too, free of duty. Hey?'

'I think you are right, Mr Hope.' James smiled.

Commander Carr did not smile. He looked uncomfortable.
'We have had considerable success of late, you know, in
taking some of these vessels, and the villains that sail them. It
may be that people ashore find it convenient to throw the
laws of the land down on the ground and stamp on them, but
if they do they behave like villains themselves, by God – ' He
paused, aware of eyes on him.

'Pray continue, Commander Carr.' Mr Hope, leaning
forward politely.

'Well, no, sir . . . I don't know that I should like to lay down
the law, so to say, to a person such as yourself. Please forgive
my intemperate language.'

'Nay, Commander Carr, nay. Do not apologize, sir. You
are quite right to feel as y'do. Quite right.' A glance at James.
'Ain't he, Mr Hayter?'

'Eh? Oh, yes. Yes, quite right.' Making his face stern. 'It is
our sworn duty, all of us together.'

'I have heard – sometimes heard, you know – that high
officials in the Revenue do not always know to an ounce and
a shilling what becomes of the goods seized. Had you heard
anything of that, Commander Carr?'

'I – I do not quite take your meaning, sir.'

'Do not you? Ah. Ah. No doubt I have heard wrong, then.'

'I – I could not say, sir.'

'Well, no matter. Smuggling ain't quite all of our business,
anyway, this cruise. Mr Aidan Faulk is our business . . . and
his other purpose.'

'Other purpose?' Commander Carr was nettled, and it
showed in the flush at his neck.

'To kill good Englishmen such as yourself, Commander,
and Mr Hayter.' As if stating the obvious. 'We must stop him,
the fellow, before he does any more damage. We must
capture him, and discover . . . who are his accomplices in this
enterprise.'

'And – and that is all the intelligence you seek, sir?'
Commander Carr glanced briefly at James, then returned
his gaze to Mr Hope, who made no reply. Commander
Carr was an arrogant man, a man inclined always to want
his own way, but he was not a stupid man, and he had
begun to believe that he was being told – if not a pack of
outright lies, then something very like. However, he felt
that he could not say so without discommoding himself. It
was very vexing to him, vexing and wounding, that his
companions did not wish to take him into their confidence.
Looking ahead he could see little benefit to himself in any
of this endeavour, even if
Lark
were taken, and he did not
like it.

The three at table ate jam roly-poly and drank their coffee,
and Mr Hope wondered aloud if he might drink a glass of
madeira. Embarrassed, Lieutenant Hayter was obliged to
reveal that he carried no madeira aboard, nor port wine
neither, nor brandy. Mr Hope smiled tolerantly, and
professed indifference:

'It is no hardship to me to live on grog and biscuit, Mr
Hayter, never fear. I am used to such things, never fear. I am
content.'

James was stung by this remark, but he did not show it. He
merely thought that his eminent guest might have been a
little less dismissive of his efforts, of what had been, for
Hawk
,
as near to a feast as could be managed. His guest now leaned
forward, nodding and blinking, drew breath theatrically, and
enquired:

'Gentlemen, have you heard the tale of the maid that tried
to milk the bull? No? I will tell it you!'

Presently the two cutters hove to, Commander Carr
returned to
Pipistrel
in his boat, and on the
Hawk
's quarterthe
deck Lieutenant Hayter called to his sailing master:

'Mr Dumbleton, we will get under way, if y'please, and
come about directly. Set me a course west-sou'-west, and let
us crack on.'

'Aye, sir, west-sou'-west.'

The two cutters would now separate and diverge, and
patrol the lanes calculated to be those most likely frequented
by the
Lark
, at this time. Should one or other encounter her,
a red rocket was to be fired at once, and rendezvous made
with all speed.

Mr Hope joined Lieutenant Hayter on deck as
Hawk
came
about and heeled into the westerly wind on the starboard tack.
He lit a cheroot. An ember from the glowing tip wandered on
the wind across the deck, and bounced off a carronade.

'He will never be easy took, you know, even when we are
two cutters to his one.' Quietly, at James's shoulder.

'I know it only too well, sir. I have a scar at my neck and
several others up and down my body to remind me.'

'But he must be took. He must be took and brought
ashore.'

Something in his tone – of urgency, or even of fear – made
James turn and look at Mr Hope. In the glow of his cheroot
Mr Hope's face betrayed nothing. Smoke slipped from the
corner of his mouth, and flew away over the wake.

A shower of rain, passing across the harbour from Gosport to
Portsmouth, had left the cobbles shining in the light from the
windows of the inn, and lifted from the street and the walls of
the buildings a clammy odour of distemper, and old bricks,
and moss. Two men emerged from the door of the inn into
the yard at the rear, fastened their cloaks against the evening
chill, and climbed into their hired gig. The older man took
the reins, and drove out of the yard into the street, and away
out of the town. Sir Robert Greer and Captain Rennie were
driving to the White Hart post inn, where they would dine in
a private room.

Half an hour later they were in that room, and Sir Robert,
removing his cloak, indicated the chair on the far side of the
small table. Rennie removed his own cloak, and sat down.

'I am glad we are to have this opportunity to dine, Captain
Rennie.' Sir Robert glanced round the room, and pulled out
his chair with a sharp squeak of wood against the plain boards
of the floor. The room was sparsely furnished, not quite mean
in appearance, with white walls, a narrow grate at the far end,
and standing irons. Their light came from a pair of candles on
the table, on which Sir Robert had caused to be placed a linen
cloth.

'Naturally', seating himself with a momentary caution of
movement, 'I should have asked you to dine at Kingshill, in
other circumstances.' A brief quaver in the deep timbre of his
voice as he pulled up his chair under him. 'But my house is
watched.' A final little exhalation of breath as he took up his
napkin.

'Watched, Sir Robert?' Rennie, warily, unwilling to be his
companion's friend. 'By whom?'

'Enemies.'

Rennie waited a moment for elaboration. None came, and
he took up his own napkin, and spread it. Presently, when Sir
Robert had rung the table bell, Rennie sniffed in a breath and:

'I have been at Portsmouth on private business, Sir Robert.

I was on the point of returning to Norfolk when you found
me. If y'have decided to press the charge of treason – '

'I have not. I do not wish it.' The black eyes met Rennie's
gaze, and Rennie noted – not with compassion or sympathy,
only with surprise – that Sir Robert now in the candle glow
looked older and thinner and less substantial than when they
had last met. 'Nay, I do not.'

'I am glad of that, in least.' Drily.

'There are more dangerous and immediate things claiming
my attention, Rennie, as they must now claim yours.'

A porter brought in their first course, a steaming broth,
and retired on Sir Robert's nod.

'You are aware, in course, of Lieutenant Hayter's commission.'
A statement, not a question. 'That is why ye came
to Portsmouth, ain't it?' Breaking a piece of bread.

'On the contrary, Sir Robert. I came here – to see a lady.'
With a hint of defiance.

'Eh? A lady? What lady, pray?' Sharply.

'I cannot think that is your affair, you know, Sir Robert.'
Mildly enough, but with an added stare.

'She knows nothing of the commission? Of your
involvement?'

'Allow me to iterate, I am here private. The lady could
hardly, therefore – '

'Pish pish, Captain Rennie!' A return of the old authority
and menace. 'Let us have no idle pretence between us. You go
about as Mr Birch.' His spoon poised over the broth. 'Why?'

A little shrug, determined not to be browbeaten. Let the
fellow do his worst.

'A man came to you in your room at the Marine Hotel,
some little time since. Yes?'

Rennie looked at him, and put down his own spoon. How
much did Sir Robert know? What was his purpose?

'A man that you fought with and overpowered, and later
caused to have carried away from the hotel by two yardmen,
under cover of night. Yes?'

Rennie waited, and said nothing. Clearly Sir Robert had
informants at every level in Portsmouth.

'Yes?'

'I repeat, I came to see a lady. She is a Mrs Townend, a
naval widow of Norfolk, that has took a house on the
Cambridge Road. She is living there with her sister.'

'Then why d'y'call yourself Birch? Why d'y'skulk about in
civilian clothes, if you have come to woo a naval widow?
Hey!' Banging down his spoon beside the bowl. Broth
shivered, slopped.