The Hawk (25 page)

As Rennie came in to the clang of the above-door bell Mr
Bracewell came forward, a hand held up, palm out. His tape
measure fell to the floor.

'Nay . . . nay . . .'

Captain Langton saw Rennie and froze, his face rigid with
contempt. A moment, and:

'You, sir? Here, sir? When you could not keep an
appointment at another place?'

'I . . . I was delayed, unavoidable . . .' His faltering voice not
altogether contrived.

'Delayed! On a matter of honour! How dare you remain at
Portsmouth, now!'

'I – I am come to see about some new shirts. May not a
gentleman ask about shirts, good heaven?'

'Gentleman! Christ's blood!' And he turned away.

Mr Bracewell was very anxious and uncomfortable. 'Now,
sir, dear dear . . . do not you feel that it would be better to
return at another time?'

'You would welcome me back, at another time? Would ye,
Mr Bracewell?'

'I would not wish to give offence. Never that, never that.
But you really must
go away now
, sir, if you please. Will you?'

'I will, Mr Bracewell. Thank you.' Rennie gave him a sad
little smile and nodded to him, and went out to the mocking
clang of the bell. It rang in his ears all the way back to the
Mary Rose Inn, and his heart was shrivelled in his breast by
what he had been obliged to do this morning. When he came
to the inn Mr Little was waiting outside the parlour. In his
hand he held an itemized account, newly written in black ink.
He coughed, half-apologetic, half-defiant, and:

'I am – I must ask you to settle your bill, sir.'

'Settle my bill, Mr Little? It ain't the end of the week, is it,
already?'

'No, sir. Howsoever, I must ask that you settle your bill at
once, if you please.' Firmly, meeting Rennie's puzzled gaze.
'I require the room for another gentleman.'

'What! Require the . . . d'y'mean I am to leave the Mary
Rose?'

'I do, sir. I has allowed the room to another gentleman,
that wishes to occupy it at once.'

'But this is beyond all . . . Mr Little, have I not paid my way
here, week by week?'

'I cannot help that, sir. The room is let to another gent, fair
and square. You must pack up and depart, right quick.'

'But
why
, Mr Little? What have I done to offend you?'

'You knows all about that, sir, I reckon. You knows very
well. I cannot have my hostelry made mock of, and lose my
livelihood, because of one person, look.'

'But you have just told me ye've already rented the damned
room to another man! How d'ye square that with losing your
livelihood, good God?' With counterfeit fury.

'I cannot help that, I cannot help that. You must pack up
your dunnage and clear out quick!'

'You bloody scoundrel! I've half a mind to – '

'Now then! Now then! Don't you raise your voice to me,
Captain Rennie! You are a disgrace, and you knows it! Must
I call the constable? Must I call for protection against your
cowardly violence? Eh?' Retreating to his parlour with an
alarmed snarl, and ringing a bell vigorously.

'Very well, very well.' Rennie feigned defeat, and held out
his hand for the bill. 'Give it to me, damn you. I shall pay, and
get out. I do not wish to live in a nest of rats.'

Twenty minutes later, his valise by his legs outside,
Captain Rennie was homeless, friendless, and in spite of
himself – so convincingly had he mimicked the bitter
poltroon – very nearly overcome by misery.

Rennie found a room at the Drawbridge Inn at the Point,
where the landlord Sawley Mallison was tolerant of any and
all persons, irrespective of their social standing, providing
they could pay, and did not set fire to their beds. Conditions
were primitive, but apparently clean. In fact the rooms were
infested with beetles and other vermin, and Rennie took care
to sprinkle vinegar into the corners, and cologne liberally
upon his pillow.

'I cannot abide itching filth,' he muttered as he took his
shirts from his valise, looked round for a cupboard or chest of
drawers, found nothing, and put them back.

'Christ in tears . . .'

Later, in the taproom, he again feigned drunkenness – as
he had at the coffee house several days since – spilled gin,
shouted, and fell down. Got up on his legs, and:

'I should be better served in the French Navy! Better
served by serving
France
!'

He stumbled out into the night and further into the
stinking Point, where he found another tavern, the Pewter,
and went in. Here he made a similar spectacle of himself, and
again declared himself for France.

'Who will join with me?' he demanded. 'Lan'lord! Brandy
for any and ev'ry man that will come with me to France!
Where there ain't damned foolish, meek and pus'llanimous
bowing-down to those that don't d'serve it, by Chrice! A free,
decen', hon'rable people, an hon'rable country, with a navy
serving the people!'

'You wishes to go to France, does you, mate?'

A large presence at his elbow.

'I do, sir. Indeed, I do!' Pretending to lurch and squint.
'Will you join with me – '

Thud
.

A great knuckled fist flew into his temple and crushed flat
his ear with sickening, brain-numbing violence. In the
buzzing blur of the air as Rennie fell – a hoarse, scornful
voice:

'Let that send you on your way then, you bloody dog!'

He regained consciousness in a place unknown to him, by
candlelight.

'You are awake, Captain Rennie?' A figure against the
light.

'Who are you . . . ? What is this place . . . ?' Groggily
attempting to sit up. Waves of pain flowed round and
enveloped his skull. 'Ohh . . .'

'It is a dwelling, sir. You are safe, and among friends.'

'Friends . . . ?'

'Shall we say . . . friends of friends?'

'Ah. Ah.' Lying back against piled pillows. The bed was
narrow, but comfortable.

'It is possible – when you are rested and recovered – that as
your friends we may very likely be able and willing to do you
a service.'

'Service? What d'y'mean? Ohh . . .' as he again attempted
to sit up, to see the hovering, shadowy figure silhouetted
against the candlelight. Rennie clutched his throbbing head,
and felt an egg at his temple. 'Ohh . . .' as he tried to swing
his legs to the floor.

'Nay, do not trouble yourself to get on your legs just yet,
Captain Rennie.' A restraining hand. 'You have been
battered, and knocked senseless. Drink some of this now, will
you?' A cup was proffered.

'What is it?' Suspiciously, sinking back on the pillows.

'Tea, sir. A beverage you favour, I think.'

'Ah, tea. Thankee, I do.'

He took the cup and sucked down the grateful brew. Only
when he had drained the cup did he reflect: What if the tea
was poisoned? But he did not say it aloud.

'Another cup?'

Rennie shook his head, and wished he had not. It nearly fell
off.

'Will you like to eat something, Captain Rennie?'

The thought of food repelled him, and:

'Thank you, no. Where is this house? At Portsmouth?'

'Near to Portsmouth, sir.'

'How did I come here?'

'You were brought, Captain Rennie. We brought you, in a
carriage. Your friends.'

'Why?'

'Because we wished to aid you. As you may wish to aid us.'

'Aid you? How so? I do not know you.' Peering again at the
figure. 'I cannot see your face.'

'No? Perhaps that is well, for the present. Until we are –
shall we say? – mutually confident, each in the other. No?'

Rennie thought he could detect a slight accent, the merest
hint that this man was not English. Perhaps, in his fuddled
condition, he was imagining it.

'You do not trust me, even when you say I am to aid you?
You know who I am, sir, but I do not know who you are – or
what you may want of me. That ain't a square bargain, hey?'

'Ha-ha, perhaps not.' Neutrally.

'In course, I am greatly in your debt, for rescuing me. I
must thank you for your kindness in doing so, and for
bringing me here to safety and comfort. May I know your
name . . . ?'

'For the moment, I prefer – we prefer – that you should
simply know us as friends. Names will come into the bargain
later, you see?'

'Nay, I do not. I am a plain-speaking sea officer, sir, and –'

'Captain Rennie.' Iron had come into the voice – not quite
menace, but a hardened edge.

'I am here . . .' Politely.

'Captain Rennie – you are not a serving sea officer any
more, are you? You have been thrown out of the Royal Navy,
have not you?'

'Evidently, you know that I have.'

'You have been disgraced, and then disgraced again. No?'

'I was tried unfair, and unjust. In their eyes I was disgraced.
Not in my own.' Defiantly.

'Ah, but you were also involved in an affair of honour. No?'

'I don't know what you mean . . .'

'Do not you?' Again the hard edge. 'I think that you do, sir.
You provoked a quarrel, and were subsequently challenged.'

'Ohh – that. That was – it was nothing, a misunderstanding.'

'A misunderstanding! A challenge issued, and accepted,
and then not met?'

'I tell you, it was a misunderstanding. I was in my cups, you
know, and said things I ought not to've said . . . that is all.'
Feigning great embarrassment.

'Ah, yes, I see. Then – perhaps we cannot aid you, after all.

You had, as I understood, made certain statements about
wishing to leave England, and go elsewhere. No?'

'Well well – I may have done.'

'You no longer wish for this?'

'Well well – perhaps I do wish it.' A sharp breath, and he
gripped the other's arm. 'Listen now, I have been poorly
treated. Very hard used. I had thought I would always be
treated fair and decent by my own service, but I was traduced,
and deceived, and spat upon! Aye, that is not too extravagant a
description. Spat upon, and kicked, and cursed, like a damned
mongrel cur! Well well, we shall see about that, by God!'

'Yes, Captain Rennie? How?'

'I – I may have certain intelligence, that I may be willing to
share with certain persons.'

'Intelligence? Yes? What does it concern? How to fight a
duel?'

'I thought y'said you was my friend!'

'I thought you were ours. Now – I do not know. If you will
not even admit to your mistakes, how can we trust you? How
can we know that you will tell us the truth?'

'Listen, that damned duel was not my doing! Captain
Langton deliberately provoked me by finding against me at
my court martial, and then
he
issued the bloody challenge, as
if
he
was the injured man!'

'Why did not you challenge him?'

'Why should I do that, hey? Why should I accommodate
him?'

'That is a curious way of looking at the question. No?'

'No.'

A brief silence, then:

'Will you tell me – what is this intelligence you wish to
share with us?'

'Ah, well, if we are getting down to cases – I should in
course need something in return.'

'Money?'

'Money? You insult me, sir.'

'I do? How very unfortunate. I should not wish to provoke
a quarrel. What is it you do wish for, exact?'

'Safe passage elsewhere, and a commission.'

'Do you mean a reward, or a position?'

'Naturally, I seek a position. A commission.'

'For money?'

'Oh, good heaven, this is poor stuff! D'y'wish to make a
bargain, or no? Ohh . . .' His head spun horribly, and his
stomach lurched in answer. He nearly puked, and was obliged
to lie back against the pillows again.

There was no immediate response to this outburst, then a
sigh and a shrug, and:

'I do not know. I cannot say, just at present. I must consult
with my friends, and then let you know.' The silhouetted
figure turned, hat in hand as if to leave, and hesitated. 'Unless
. . . unless you were willing now, tonight, to give me some
little hint, some little part of the information you hold, as a
gesture of good intent. Hm?'

Here at last was the vital moment Sir Robert Greer had
anticipated and planned for. The baiting of the hook.

Rennie in turn let out a sigh, a sigh of capitulation. 'Very
well.'

The figure put aside the hat, came close to the bed, leaned
over it. 'Pray proceed, Captain Rennie . . .' Nothing of iron
now in the tone, only carefully restrained eagerness.

'Two cutters presently seek a certain party, in the Channel.
They are
Hawk
and
Pipistrel
. They are to be joined very soon
by six more, making a squadron of eight, under the command
of Lieutenant Hayter RN. The Royal Navy is entirely
determined to take this party, and his vessel. The navy will
not rest until this has been accomplished.'

'When will these new cutters come to the aid of the others?
How soon?'

'Within the week. They are presently being armed with
new guns – carronades – and stored with extra powder. They
are to be manned by hardened crew, all with experience of sea
action, and well able to fight those guns. It will be a formidable
force, I fear, against one vessel.'

'How have you come by this information, Captain Rennie?
You are a disgraced officer, an officer cast out.'

'Yes, I am disgraced. But as I told you, only in official eyes.
I am not without friends in the navy, I am not without
connection.'

'There are others in the navy who think as you do?'

'Many.'

'So?' Again that hint of eagerness.

'Aye, many.'

'Thank you, Captain Rennie. Pray return to your inn, and
wait there. I will convey this item of intelligence, and we will
communicate with you in due course.'

'You wish me to leave at once?'

'When you are rested, when you recovered. A carriage will
take you. Ring this bell, when you are quite ready. And now
I must leave you. Goodnight.'