The Hawk (23 page)

'Fail to appear?' Shocked. 'Fail to fight?'

'You are going to say . . . that you will be disgraced. Mmhm.'
A faint, bleak smile. 'You will.'

'Sir Robert, what you propose is very hard. To be
cashiered, and then exposed as a coward, on a matter of
honour . . . How can I ever show my face again?'

'It will be a very great scandal, indeed . . . and that is
everything we wish for – '

'Everything you wish for, perhaps. I do not wish it, not at
all. I am coerced.'

'Everything we wish for,' continued Sir Robert, unmoved.
'Aidan Faulk cannot fail to hear of it, and when you make clear
– in certain places that I shall list for you – that you are prepared
to do anything for money, that you will do anything to injure
the Crown, anything to aid France, then Faulk will make his
approach, through an intermediary, I am in no doubt.'

'I am glad that you are in no doubt, Sir Robert. I doubt the
whole damned business.'

'When he does,' patiently, 'you will give him valuable
intelligence, in a letter. He will duly discover its veracity, and
worth. And then, Rennie, then he will arrange a meeting with
you.'

'In little, you do not ask anything very much of me – do
you, Sir Robert?' A sour little shake of his head, and Rennie
turned away down the room.

Sir Robert watched him, and his eyes narrowed. Did
Rennie mean to defy him, after all? Rennie reached the far
end of the room, but he did not go out of the door there, nor
even touch the handle. He hesitated, turned and came back.
Sir Robert relaxed.

'I think that we will both benefit, Captain Rennie, by a
glass of wine. Yes?' As Rennie approached the desk.

'I am no longer a post captain, Sir Robert. You need not
call me that, any more.'

'I do so as a courtesy. And as a reminder that in spite of
what you are disposed to believe, things will be made right for
you in the end.' He rang a bell, and presently his servant
Fender appeared. 'Madeira wine, Fender. – That is your
preference, ain't it, Rennie?'

'Hemlock, more like.' Staring out of the wide window.

'Madeira, Fender.' The servant withdrew.

Sir Robert took a breath, and: 'Come now, Captain
Rennie. There is no need for dark thoughts. You are not
alone in this.'

'Not alone? How could I forget your presence, Sir Robert,
lurking like a spider at the heart of its web, and I the hapless
fly, caught on a thread.'

Sir Robert's face tightened, and his mouth set in a line –
but he said nothing.

Their wine came, but neither man felt disposed to toast the
success of their venture, nor each other. They drank in
silence. Presently Sir Robert opened a leather fold on his
desk, and took out a square of paper.

'I have wrote out the plan, Rennie.'

Rennie put down his glass, wordlessly held out a hand, and
took the sheet.

On the appointed day he had primed himself, not merely with
the turbulent lines written out for him by Sir Robert Greer,
but with drink. He reasoned that if he was to achieve the
appearance of drunkenness, then he had better take some
little quantity of drink, so that he was a little flushed and
smelling of liquor when he confronted Captain Langton.
Rennie dressed in his civilian clothes, consumed three glasses
of brandy, then strode down to the coffee house as the noon
gun was fired. He knew that Captain Langton would likely be
there, and he marched in at the door, head high, face florid,
Sir Robert's lines in his head.

Sir Robert had said: 'Begin with the court martial. You feel
that it was unjust. Say so, vehement and bitter. Then when you
see that Langton is present, round on him. Do not hold back.
Attack him reckless, in the most fiery fashion. You have me?'

Rennie sat at a table by himself, banging the chair out and
then thudding it in as he sat down. He decided now to depart
from Sir Robert's script a little – to be inventive. Loudly he
demanded:

'Ain't a fellow able to get attended to in this place? Or is it
too damned grand for that? Hey!' Jerking his head, glaring
about him.

'Sir?' A serving girl with a tray, looking concerned.

'Ah, there y'are. Brandy, right quick!'

'Sir, you must know that we do not serve spirits here. Only
wine, if you wish it.'

'Must know! I know nothing of the kind! Brandy!'

'We has no brandy, if you please, sir. Perhaps you will like
to go to an inn . . .'

'Oh, very well . . . wine, then. I will like wine. Bring it,
bring it. What is your name?'

'Rose, sir.'

'Rose, Rose, I do beg your pardon.' Bowing extravagantly.
'I did not mean to bite off y'head, my dear. Damn' bad
manners. My apologies.'

The girl withdrew, and Rennie pretended to see Captain
Langton for the first time. He was seated with three other sea
officers at a table down the room.

'Ah, there they are! The bloody Royal Navy!'

Langton glanced at him, clearly embarrassed, and at once
averted his gaze. One of the other officers turned and glared
at Rennie, who continued:

'Damned villainous wretches, all of you! You and your
damned tribunals and courts! Justice, in the navy? Christ's
blood, y'might as well expect honesty among
thieves
!'

More uneasy glances, a further glare.

'That's right, Langton, cringe! Don't think that I do not
see you there, you damned fair-weather friend, you!'

The glaring officer, a stout, square post captain, now stood
up and came over to Rennie's table. 'Look here, I think that
you'd better desist.' Keeping his voice low, staring at Rennie
very direct.

'Desiss! Desiss! Why should I desiss, you damned ninny!'

'What! By God, sir!' Very red in the face.

Rennie leaned forward, grimaced and nodded, and: 'Know
what I think? Hey? I think that I should be better off serving
in the French navy! Far better! D'y'know why? Because they
are all
honourable men
!'

The square post captain drew breath fiercely. 'Captain
Rennie, I warn you, you had best leave this place at once.'

'Who the devil are you to give me instruction, damn your
blood! I do not obey the likes of you! Nor that damned
poltroon
Langton
, sitting there on his arse!' Staring blearily
and aggressively at the hapless Captain Langton.

The serving girl brought Rennie's wine, but was followed
to the table by the proprietor, who took her elbow and
whispered to her to take the wine away. The proprietor, a
small, amiable, rotund man with a wisp of hair combed across
the shining dome of his head, smiled at Rennie and:

'Good morning to you, sir.'

'What? Oh, good morning.' Jerking his head to squint at
the proprietor.

'Supposing you and I discuss it over a splash of something
in my own quarters, sir?'

'Discuss what, pray?' Rennie frowned at him.

'Whichever is the difficulty you may be having this
morning, sir. Quietly, eh? In my own rooms at the rear,
without unpleasantness.'

'Go to the devil.' Rising, and pushing past the proprietor.
'Langton! Do not skulk there, you bloody wretch! I will have
an apology from you, sir! Aye, a public apology for my
humiliation at your hands!'

Langton flicked him a now ferocious glance, then turned
away.

'Nay, nay! That will not do, Langton! Do not turn your
miserable back on me, sir!' Advancing on the table. 'Before I
take myself off to volunteer my services to France, I will have
your apology! Now, if y'please!'

And now Captain Langton stood up, turned to Rennie,
and:

'You will get nothing from me! Nothing at all! Be very
careful what you say next, sir!'

'Be damned to careful, you bloody lawyer's lickspittle!
Apologize, and mean it too!'

'I will not, sir. I will call you out, instead! Well?'

'Ha-ha-
ha
! So I have tickled your testicles at last, eh? You
are a man, after all.
Accepted
, sir! I am at your disposal, at the
Mary Rose Inn!'

Rennie turned, strode, cannoned into a chair, nearly
stumbled – and flung away out of the door into the street.

Only when he was in the open air did he allow himself a small,
shaky smile. His clothes were soaked through with sweat.

Rennie was shown into the library. A new-lit fire crackled in
the grate, but the room was chill. The curtains had not yet
been drawn. Candles glowed on the desk and in reflecting
girandoles on either side of the fireplace. The glow was
mirrored in the wheel barometer, and shone dully on the
papier-mâché globe by the desk. Beyond great banks of books
tall portraits loomed in the reduced light of the far corners.
Rennie heard the click of the door, and:

'Good evening, Sir Robert. I hope that I do not disturb
you, but there is a – '

'Damnation, Rennie, why have you come here again!' Sir
Robert was very vexed, his face waxy as he came forward in
the candlelight. 'Did not I say to you, do not come anywhere
proximate to Kingshill, nor to me, until the matter is settled?'

'Aye, sir, you did. However, there is a question I must
ask – '

'Come away from the window!' Sir Robert jerked the silk
rope at the wide window, and drew the curtains. 'Did you
confront Langton?'

'I did, sir.'

'And? And?'

'A challenge was issued, and accepted.'

'That is well, that is well. But I wish y'had not come here.'

'I took pains to be unobserved, Sir Robert. I left my gig
some little distance outside the gates, and walked in by
another path.'

'You do not know these people.' Darkly. 'They are capable
. . . never mind. You will go away from here at once, else you
will wreck our design entire.'

'Not before I know the answer to my question, Sir Robert.'
Firmly. 'Why is the
Hawk
at sea?'

'What?'

'If our design – your design, Sir Robert – is that I should
meet Aidan Faulk ashore, why is Lieutenant Hayter at sea in
Hawk
, aided by a second cutter? For what purpose? When I
meet Faulk you will spring your trap, will not you, and take
him prisoner?'

'Indeed.' Curtly, a black glance.

'Then I repeat – why is
Hawk
sent to take him at sea, in the
Lark
?'

Sir Robert sighed, motioned to Rennie to sit, then sat
down himself at his desk. The longcase clock struck the
hour, the chime sounding with a cold resonance through
the room.

'There is some little disagreement between the Admiralty
and me, about this matter.' Sir Robert, after a moment. 'It is
Their Lordships' belief that Faulk can only be took at sea. I
do not concur. Lieutenant Hayter's experience, in his last
encounter with the
Lark
, was a near disaster. I do not believe
that
Hawk
and one additional cutter will produce the
outcome Their Lordships desire. There is also the presence
of Mr Hope. You know who Hope is?'

'I do not.'

Sir Robert told him, and Rennie was astonished.

'So you apprehend the importance . . .' Sir Robert continued,
and he took a pinch of snuff '. . . that Their Lordships
place upon this duty, at sea. I am more circumspect, Captain
Rennie. I am also more practical.'

'Their Lordships will not like to hear they are not practical
men, you know.'

'I do not seek open conflict with Their Lordships, nor any
of their connections. I shall not provoke it. Quietly and discreetly
I seek an outcome ashore, because it is more practical
than an encounter at sea. I have learned to employ simple
means, practical means, to gain a simple end.'

Rennie thought, but did not say, that Sir Robert's notions
of practical means were uncommon devious, many-layered,
and fraught with difficulty. Instead, he asked:

'Sir Robert, if you and Their Lordships differ in this, how
was you able to persuade them to sanction my court
martial?'

'Ah. Yes.' Sir Robert closed his silver snuffbox, and allowed
his head to tilt a little on one side. 'I told the Prime Minister
it was part of my grand design, and he gave me free rein to
achieve it.'

'You have the ear of the Prime Minister?'

'On occasion, on occasion. Their Lordships did oppose
your court martial, at first. The Prime Minister wrote a letter,
and said a word, and opposition fell away.' A nod. 'And so,
Captain Rennie, we shall achieve our ends together, you and
I. Yes?'

Rennie rose and took up his hat. 'I shall do my best.' A bow.
'Your servant, sir.'

'Your servant.'

'Captain Rennie, I have come to ask: who is to be your
second?'

'I have not yet made that decision.'

'Not yet?' The young man seemed surprised. He was Mr
Cornwell, a lieutenant of Marines, and was today in civilian
dress. He had introduced himself to Rennie in the dining
room of the Mary Rose Inn, and requested an immediate
interview. He and Rennie now occupied a private parlour at
the rear.

'Not yet.'

'But the challenger wishes to know when you will be
disposed to make yourself available. He wishes to know
whether or no pistols will be acceptable, where you and he
may meet, at what hour, and upon what day. Certainly these
things may not be left uncertain very long.'

'No no, you are right, Mr Cornwell.' A nod, a sniff.

'What I mean is, I cannot very well put these things to you
direct. I must put them to your second. Ain't that the correct
form?'

'Is it? I expect so. If you say so.'

'Captain Rennie . . . you have me at a very great
disadvantage. I – I have never acted in this capacity in my life.
In truth I wish that you and Captain Langton could find some
opportunity for accommodation. A duel is a very wretched
thing – do not you think so?'

'Has he required you to say this to me?'

'No, he has not.' A hint of indignation. 'I say it because I
believe it to be true, that is all. It ain't right that two senior
officers should meet in this dismal way. If I speak out of turn
I do so because I do not wish to see life wasted, when a simple
apology would end the matter.'