The Hawk (28 page)

'Aggy . . . ?' The same voice, again calling.

The girl bobbed in something like confusion, shut the
door, and Rennie was left standing on the upper step outside.
Muffled voices inside, and he waited, grew apprehensive, and
then self-accusing.

'You damned fool!' To himself. 'You bloody fool. She will
not see you, at night. Why did y'knock at her door at all?
How can she admit you, when she thinks you are a coward?'

The door opened, and he lifted his head. The servant girl
stood aside, and: 'Please will you come in, sir?'

A moment after he was in a pretty, small drawing room,
with a fire burning in the grate, and a lamp throwing a glow
over the table and two chairs, and an embroidered screen to
one side of the fire. Mrs Townend was alone in the room as
he came in, and now she came forward, and Rennie saw with
a little lurch of emotion that she was smiling.

'Captain Rennie, you are welcome.'

'Mrs Townend, it is – I am so very grateful that you felt
able to admit me, at such a late – '

'You would not have come unless on a matter of urgency –
as you said to Agatha, just now.'

'No. No, indeed. You are quite right.' Feeling himself
wretchedly awkward. Why in God's name had he come? He
bowed to her.

'Will not you sit down, Captain Rennie?' Stepping back
nearer the fire, and sitting down.

'You are very kind.' He stepped to the other chair and sat
down.

'May I offer you refreshment? Coffee?'

'Thank you, no. I – I wished to – '

'A glass of madeira?'

'Nothing, thank you. I wished to tell you, Mrs Townend,
that I am not a coward.'

'Oh. Oh. I had thought that you were about to say – pray
continue, Captain Rennie.' Mrs Townend appeared disconcerted,
and Rennie was further embarrassed. He stumbled
on, wishing that he had accepted the offer of madeira.

'Hm. Perhaps you will have heard rumours in Portsmouth
that I was called out. And that subsequent, when I had
accepted the challenge, I did not meet my obligation, I did
not meet Capt—'

'No! Captain Rennie, I beg you, do not mention any name
to me. I wish to know nothing of this affair.' Greatly
discomforted.

'As you wish, madam.' Inclining his head. 'May I
continue?'

A troubled little smile. 'Captain Rennie, I had thought you
would seek to – had I known you would talk of this other
affair, well . . .'

'I am very sorry. I wished only – '

Over him: 'I had thought you was come to me on another
matter. I see now that I was wrong.'

'Nay, Mrs Townend, do not accuse yourself of wrongdoing
in my presence. I will never like to countenance that.'

And now she looked at him, a deep, startled, intimate gaze.
Rennie felt obliged to meet it, and to say something more.

'I had – I had only come to offer explication
incidental
,
d'y'see? So that you would not continue to feel harshly
toward me, when I needed your help.'

'Help?' Further startled.

'Aye, madam. I am in great need of your assistance this
night. May I ask . . .'

'Yes, Captain Rennie?' Very soft.

'May I avail myself of that glass of madeira, offered a
moment since?'

'Oh. Yes.' Again disconcerted, ringing the table bell. 'Yes,
in course you may.'

The wine was brought to him, and to his relief Mrs
Townend took a glass herself. He knew now what he would
say to her. If she refused, as she almost certainly would, then
he would take his leave, saying that he understood perfectly,
&c., &c.

'Mrs Townend, I have fled my lodging, and am sought
high and low by evil men. I have nowhere to go. I wished to
take a room in your house, where no one would think to look
for me. Naturally, I will pay handsome – '

'Stop, please stop, Captain Rennie.'

Very good, thought Rennie, she has been so affronted by
this absurd request that she will now show me the door, and
the whole stupid episode will be over. He held up his hand,
nodded, and:

'In course, I understand you. It was a most foolish and
ignoble request.' Making to rise.

'Nay, it was not, it was not. The only thing foolish was to
offer payment. I would not think of accepting money in
aiding you, dear Captain Rennie.'

'Eh? Oh.'

'I have – I have not told you all of the truth, Captain
Rennie.'

'Oh.' Quite out of his depth, now. 'Ah.'

'Nay, I have been remiss. I thought you had come here
tonight to – nay, I cannot speak of it now. All I would wish to
say is that I was ashamed of myself when we met in the High
Street, and I turned away from you. I confess that I halfbelieved
the rumours that were flying about. Then when I
came home here I thought of what you did on the road at
night, in the coach, of how you saved us all from a cowardly
and violent attack, risked your life to save us, and I was doubly
ashamed. I knew that you were not and could not be a
coward, and that some unhappy circumstance which you had
not the power to alter had caused the scandal.'

'You are very kind.'

'Captain Rennie, will you excuse me a moment? There is
something I must say to my sister. You will not go away?'

'I will not, if you do not wish is.'

'I do not wish it.'

She left him, and he drank his wine. The fire crackled, and
he was aware all at once of a tremendous fatigue, as if his
whole body was drained of energy. He stifled a yawn.
Presently Mrs Townend returned.

'It is all arranged, dear Captain Rennie. You are to stay
here with us – ' Mrs Townend paused, and stared. Captain
Rennie was fast asleep in his chair, the nearly empty glass of
wine tipped to one side in his hand.

When Rennie woke he remembered coming upstairs and
being left alone with a candle-holder in a plain small
bedroom at the rear of the house. He was vexed with himself
for having fallen asleep downstairs, and for having been too
tired to resist when Mrs Townend and her sister declared him
their guest. The maid had guided him to his room, he had
lain down on the narrow bed and at once fallen asleep. The
candle now guttered in the holder, and he heard the church
clock strike – one, two, three, four. At sea, eight bells of the
middle watch.

He sat up and leaned against the wall in the flickering semidarkness.
At home in Norfolk he had a clock by his bed that
chimed in imitation of a ship's bell – ting-ting, ting-ting. He
thought of his house, of the stretching peace there in the wide
Norfolk countryside, under the bird-turning sky. Of his maid
Jenny busying herself day by day, keeping the house clean
and pleasant. He had left money to settle household bills, and
so forth, to pay the boy and the man who came in to tend the
garden. All would be well at Middingham, until his return.
Aye, his return. When would that be? His thoughts turned
sourly on his present circumstance.

'What the devil have I done by coming here to this
house? By fleeing the Drawbridge? By defying Greer, the
fellow? I cannot stay here, good God. Skulking, hiding,
peering from behind the petticoats of respectable women. I
must return and face my obligation, my duty. However
damned unpleasant it may be, however wretched and
discommoding, I must do my duty as undertaken and
agreed.'

He nodded, nodded again, and swung his legs off the bed.
A further thought came to him:

'Supposing that Sir Robert don't want me, any more?
What if he has decided that I am of no further use to him in
pursuit of Faulk? Would it not be entirely justified in him to
think me a weak-willed, impetuous, petulant, reckless bloody
fool, that ain't to be regarded at all, nor trusted, in anything?
Could he be blamed for making another arrangement
altogether?'

Rennie sat very still on the edge of the bed, and thought
everything through with dull, relentless logic. If Sir Robert
thought this of him, and had now abandoned him, then he
would never get back his career, never be restored as post
captain, never again have a commissioned ship under his legs.
He would remain in fact – as he had until now been merely in
imitation – an outcast, driven from all of ordered, decent,
rank-observing life, never to be admitted again.

'Christ Jesu . . .' Whispered.

A mist of disadvantage seemed to surround everything in
his life, a swirling mist that was thickening into a dense fog of
despair. A deep sigh, and: 'This will not do, William Rennie,'
he admonished himself. And now the sense of something else
began quite abruptly to assert itself – the instinct of selfpreservation,
piercing the fog like a bright shaft of light.

Rennie stood up and strode to the little window, pushed it
open and snuffed in a breath of night air, and was restored.

'I will go home to Norfolk, to Southcroft House, and
arrange my affairs. It will not take more than a day or two,
and then I shall depart. Aye.'

He found a ewer and basin on a stand by the window,
dashed cold water in his face, and washed out his mouth – as
if to cleanse it of all foolish, self-pitying talk.

'Home to Norfolk, and away – to America. I am not known
there, and will introduce myself as Captain Birch, and offer
myself to merchant owners, at Boston. Aye, that is the
solution, William, my boy. That is how to fight clear of this
frightful, lowering, foul-smelling mess ye've allowed y'self to
be bullied into. Go to America, and make a new start!'

'
Pipistrel
lost?' Admiral Hapgood looked at Lieutenant
Hayter with an expression of baffled disapproval. 'She is an
Excise cutter, ain't she?'

'She was, sir, yes.'

'Then why d'you inform me of her loss? Why do not you
inform the Excise Board?'

'Since she was aiding me, sir, in my duty as a sea officer in
the Royal Navy, I thought it best to inform you, the Port
Admiral, and – '

'How d'y'know she is lost?'

'We were patrolling together in the Channel when the
storm of wind blew in from the west, and we lost sight of her.'

'Yes yes, but how d'y'know she is
lost
, though, hey? How
d'y'know she did not make for another port, and that she ain't
there now? Dover, as an instance?'

'I do not think that possible, sir.
Pipistrel
was close by us in
Hawk
when – '

'Yes yes, when the wind came up. Did you heave to, and
send a boat?'

'Indeed no, sir. Conditions – '

'No? Y'did not? Why not, if you thought she was
foundering?'

'Well, sir, we did not see her founder – we simply observed
that she was gone from her position. Beside, the conditions
was very severe. We could not heave to, nor lower a boat,
without great risk to
Hawk
herself.'

'You say "we" very frequent, Mr Hayter. Are not you
commander of
Hawk
? Ain't the sole responsibility of command
your own?'

'That is so, sir. However – '

'No no no no. Not "however", if y'please. Are you in
command of the
Hawk
cutter, or are you not?'

'I am, sir.'

'Then why d'y'insist on this "we-we-we" foolishness? Do
not attempt to conceal blame behind others, sir, when the
blame is entirely your own.'

'Blame! I am not aware that I am to blame, in anything.'

'Did not you just now tell me, sir, that ye had
lost the bloody
Pipistrel
! Then you are to
blame
for it!'

'Sir. Admiral Hapgood. I will not like to contradict you, sir,
but
Pipistrel
was lost by the action of the storm, not by any
action of my own.'

'Then who is "
we
"?' With glaring triumph. 'Hey?'

In his agitation and anger at this flood of unmerited
accusation, James grew incautious, and:

'My adviser and friend this commission is Mr Hope.'

'Ahh – Mr Hope. And who is he, pray? What is his rank
and duty in
Hawk
?'

'He – he has no rank, official. He advises me.'

'What? He is a passenger? A supernumerary? A gentleman
idler? What?'

A sharp rap at the door, just as James opened his mouth to
reply, and Mr Hope came into the room, a bandage swathed
about his head. Admiral Hapgood looked at him sharply,
prepared to rebuke – then recognition flooded and
transformed his face.

'Good heaven – Your Royal High—'
'Nay, I am not. Not today, not at present. I am Mr Hope,
Admiral.'

'
You
are, sir?
You
are Lieutenant Hayter's adviser?'

'Indeed. And in havin' advised Mr Hayter to come here
today, I think perhaps I was mistook, after all. I will like you
to notice nothing of what has been said here in this room
today. Nothing of the
Pipistrel
, nothing of me. In fact, we was
never here at all. You apprehend me?'

'As you wish, sir.' Now more than ever baffled, his beetling
brows up and down. 'As you wish.'

'Am obliged.' Assuming a grave expression. 'Now then,
supposin' Ireland was a large great backside, pointed at
England. What would we find in the vital position? Hey?'

'I – I hope that you will tell us, sir.' Admiral Hapgood.

'Cork!'

'Cork . . . ?'

'Hhhhh – Cork! A bung stopper, in Ireland's arse! Hhhhh!'

'Ah. Ha-ha. Indeed.' Admiral Hapgood, politely, a
dreadful half-smile.

'Come, Hayter, we cannot dally here, makin' jokes. Good
day t'ye, Admiral.' Mr Hope paused at the door. 'And you
mind me, we was never here.'

'Very good, sir.' A bow, as Mr Hope put on his hat over the
bandage, and stumped away down the stair. James followed
him.

Coming away from the Port Admiral's office, the hat
pulled low over his face, James attending close by his side, Mr
Hope gripped James's arm, and:

'We'll go to Greer, now. He will know what to do. We
should never have gone to Admiral Hapgood to report the
loss. I should never have agreed to that, you know.'
Forgetting that the idea had been altogether his own. 'We
must have a new stratagem.'