The Hawk (38 page)

'Major, you will like to apprehend Mr Scott, I think? Yes?'

'Yes.' A curd nod.

'It need not trouble you who the other fellow is, that we
seek, nor what he has done, if he will lead us to Scott? Ain't
that so?'

'If he does. If he can. Or would.' Dubiously. 'How? That is
the question. We at the Board have sought Scott high and low,
and cannot discover him. He made use of Sir Robert Greer's
property, or the property contiguous, but since we found that
store of spirits and tobacco he has vanished. How d'you
propose to connect Scott to this cutter you seek, and this other
man – Aidan Faulk, is it? – when Scott himself has vanished?'

'We believe that Scott will seek to escape with Faulk in the
cutter when the repair is completed,' said James. 'England
has become too hot for him, as it has for Faulk. Our design is
to take them both, and the cutter, at the moment they
attempt their escape.'

'And now I must ask – what is your real interest in Faulk?
Smuggling ain't your concern.'

'He is a spy.'

'What?'

'He is an agent of France, that comes in and out of England
in the guise of a smuggler, and the government wishes him
took. It is our job to take him.'

Major Braithwaite looked at James, then at Captain
Rennie. Then he sat quiet a moment, everything in his
expression and the set of his body suggesting doubt, anxiety,
disbelief. At last he drew a deep breath, and his expression
changed to one of determination.

'Very well, gentlemen, in spite of my doubts – and they are
many – I am prepared to take you at your word. If it will lead
me to Scott, then I will help you.'

'Good, good!' James smiled, and shook his hand. 'You will
not regret it.'

'Thank you, I hope that I will not. I have a proviso of my
own.'

'Yes?' James exchanged a look with Rennie, who asked the
major:

'What is it, Major?'

'It's this. If all this should prove to be a wild goose chase, if
what you have told me about Faulk, and Scott, was no better
than a concocted story, for your own ends, that you have not
revealed to me, and if I now put my men to work for you, to
help you in all particulars, and then we do
not
find Scott, nor
the cutter, nor Faulk neither – I propose to arrest you.'

'Arrest us!' Rennie was astonished.

'On what charge?' demanded James.

'That you must wait to discover, gentlemen – if you fail
me. And now, Rennie, I will like a drop from your flask after
all.'

Now on the day following the two sea officers were going to
Bucklers Hard, where
Hawk
had again been taken to undergo
repairs, these to be swiftly done. Rennie and James between
them had defrayed the cost, saying to Mr Blewitt that time
was of the essence, there was not a moment of it to be lost.
Those members of
Hawk
's complement that were hale were
again at the Marine Barracks, this time under the eye – at
James's request – of Colonel Macklin, to whom James had
promised 'keen action soon, if you are willing'. Colonel
Macklin had said that in course he was. The wounded Hawks
had been taken to the Haslar by Dr Wing, by arrangement
with his old and good friend Dr Stroud.

The port admiral at Portsmouth, Admiral Hapgood, had
been kept in ignorance of the two sea officers' plans, but they
both knew that sooner or later – probably sooner – the
admiral would hear of the returned
Hawk
, and her officers
and people, and that he would then demand to know all
particulars of their recent activity.

For the present, however, Rennie and James were in
buoyant spirits in their hired wherry. At Bucklers Hard they
instructed the wherryman to wait for them, and proceeded to
Mr Blewitt's small office – little more than a shed – by the
larger slip, where a brig was repairing. The
Hawk
lay in an
adjoining slip, shored up, with a large crew of artificers at
work. Redway Blewitt emerged from his shed, his pipe
clenched in his large yellow teeth. He raised his tricorne to
his visitors.

'Good day, gen'men. I will say candid that I had not wished
nor expected to see your cutter again so soon. I would ask that
you please be more careful of her when she is made whole this
time. Will you?' Looking from one to the other. His tone
amiable, but with an underlying seriousness. 'I should hate to
see her lost altogether – not to say those who sail in her.'

'I will do my best, Mr Blewitt,' said James. 'However, I fear
I cannot promise that she will never again suffer damage.
How goes the repair?'

'As you see . . .' Mr Blewitt pointed with the stem of his
pipe '. . . the repair proceeds well. The damage to her wales
was quite severe – at first glance. When we came to examine
her close, though, we found she had not suffered so terrible
severe as we'd thought. She is stout-built, your cutter. Doverbuilt,
I b'lieve.'

'Dover-built, aye.' James, nodding.

Redway Blewitt nodded in turn. 'No finer cutter ever passed
through my hands. Stout-built, sturdy, a lovely weatherly sea
boat, aye.' His pipe back between his teeth. A puff of smoke.
Another. 'Three days more, and you may have her.'

'Three days?' James, anxiously. 'Could not you let us have
her in two, Mr Blewitt?'

'I could, yes.' A puff. 'But she would not be ready for sea.'

'I am willing – we are willing – to pay whatever you ask, if
that will – '

'Ain't a question of moneys, Mr Hayter.' Over him, firmly.
'It is a question of my artificers doing their work right well.
Wales scarfed and butted, a quantity of caulking, a coat of
paint. Cable-laid rigging. Three days, at full effort.'

'Very well, Mr Blewitt. Thank you.' They shook hands,
and James and Rennie walked across to the slip to look at
Hawk
close to. Mr Blewitt returned to his hut, puffing clouds
of blue smoke.

'D'y'think I offended him?' James wondered aloud.

'No, no, James. Blewitt is a sensible fellow. He knows you
want the
Hawk
back right quick, and is sympathetic. We are
damned fortunate in this yard, I reckon. Had we wanted a
quick repair at Portsmouth we should have been waiting a
month.'

Presently, having made their brief inspection, and been
satisfied, the two sea officers returned to their wherry. As
they climbed into the boat, and the wherryman shoved off,
James: 'By the time we get her to sea it will leave us scarcely
two days to find and capture Faulk.'

As if to give emphasis to his anxiety a herring gull swooped
low overhead and gave its urgent, echoing cry: kee-ow . . .
kee-ow.

Rennie glanced up at the heeling bird, set his hat firmer on
his head, and said nothing.

When they returned to the Marine Barracks – Rennie with
his hat pulled low on his head and his shoulders hunched, for
he was yet in Portsmouth a despised figure, he thought, that
had better not be seen – there was a message for James from
Mr Hope at the Haslar. Would the lieutenant come there
forthwith, if it pleased him? It did not please him, but James
went. His plan to take the
Lark
and capture Aidan Faulk was
all-important to him, but he was a junior officer and Mr
Hope his senior, who should be kept informed in a matter
that was in course common to them both.

James came to Gosport by a hoy, went in at the Haslar
gates, and was directed to a private upper room where he
found Mr Hope reclining on his cot in his nightshirt. He
looked thinner, James noted. He was immersed in papers
that James saw – as he came close by the bed – were ship
draughts. The room was stuffy, with the distinct odour of
stale urine.

'Ah, Mr Hayter.' Looking up. 'You have come. I am glad.'

James had shifted into his dress coat and hat, and the hat
was now correctly and neatly held under his arm. A brief
formal bow.

'And I am glad to see you better, sir.'

'I am better, certainly.' A wink, slightly disconcerting to
James. 'In truth, when I woke this morning, my life's
companion was at full alert.'

'Sir?' Politely, puzzled.

'Christ's blood – hhhhh – you young fellows are slow on
the take-up. My strumpet trumpet! Hey? What?'

'Ohh. Yes, I see.'

'The surest sign that I was beginning recovered was that!
Hhh-hhh-hhh!'

'Indeed, sir. – You wished to see me?'

'I did, Mr Hayter, I do.' Sobering, thrusting aside the ship
draughts. 'To business.'

James waited, his expression attentive. There was no
chair in the room, so that he was obliged to remain
standing. The air was very close, and he began to sweat
under his coat.

'I have received a despatch, Mr Hayter.' Mr Hope took
from under his pillow a folded letter, the seal broken. He
opened it, perused it a moment, and:

'It is from a very high source. You will understand that I am
not at liberty to reveal, and so forth – but the very highest
source.'

'I understand you, sir.'

'That source enquires what progress we have made.'
Looking up. 'What progress have we made, Mr Hayter?'

'Considerable progress, sir.' Not allowing himself to
hesitate. 'We are nearly at our destination.'

'Are we?'

'That is so, sir.'

'When shall we reach it?'

'Within the week.' With a confidence he did not feel.

'That is well, excellent well. I'll come with you.'
Swinging his legs to the floor, and attempting to stand up
straight, pulling back his shoulders. At once he faltered,
lurched, and would have fallen had not James stepped
quickly forward and supported him. James held him up a
moment, then Mr Hope sat down shakily on the edge of
the cot, the stale smell of his nightshirt in James's nostrils.

'Thankee, Mr Hayter. Not quite restored, I fear. Not yet
quite hale. Have ye a drop of something in your flask?'
Holding out a hand.

'I – I did not bring my flask, sir.'

'What, no flask?' Querulously.

'Shall I ring the bell, sir, and ask for brandy?'

'Nay, Mr Hayter. You could ring that bloody bell all day,
and all night too, and never get any brandy here.'
'I am sure that if I were to ask Dr Stroud himself – '
'Stroud is the worst of them! And that bloody little Wing
is his echo. "You may not take alcohol until you are
improved." Busybodies, sir, damned vexing busybodies! –
Whhhh . . .' Putting a hand to his head, and lying back against
his pillow.

'Should I leave you, sir?'

'What?'

'Should not you rest now, sir? I do not wish – '

'You are certain you've forgot your flask?'

'I am, sir.'

'Will y'not go through your coat pockets, hey? Just to be
certain, absolute?'

James made a show of checking all of his pockets. An
apologetic grimace. 'Alas . . .'

'Damnation. Y'cannot have the least notion what it is like
to lie here, day in and day out, and all the night long, without
comfort of any kind.'

'Well, sir – I do know what you are suffering, in fact. I have
been confined in the Haslar myself – '

'Yes yes, but you are young.' Testily. 'I am a man that is
accustomed to a regularity of refreshment. I must have my
comforts.'

'Perhaps I could arrange – '

'D'y'think that has not been attempted, good heaven? That
I have not exercised all manner of deception? But that
damned fellow Stroud has got athwart my hawse every
bloody time! Did he make you give up your flask before you
came in? Hey? I'll wager ten guineas he did!'

'No, sir, he did not.'

'Yes, well, in course he would oblige you to conceal it from
me. That is his nature. Doubt, and suspicion!'

'I assure you, sir – '

'Yes yes, Mr Hayter, in course you do. Thank you for
coming to me.'

'Very good, sir.'

'Pray keep me informed of all you accomplish. Will you?'

'I will, sir.' Another little bow, and James quit the room.

Mr Hope's fingers strayed to the ship draughts, and without
enthusiasm he pulled them before him and began again to
peruse them.

'I do not think Mr Hope will likely fall aboard us immediate,
sir,' James said to Rennie, as soon as he returned to their
quarters at the Marine Barracks. 'He is not yet himself, but I
fear he may be inclined to interfere when Dr Stroud lets him
go. He feels himself neglected.'

'Do not trouble yourself about Mr Hope, James. We have
had news.'

'Oh, Colonel Macklin.' James, noticing the Marine officer.
'I beg your pardon, I did not see you when I first came in.'

'Lieutenant Hayter.' A nod, a brief smile.

'What news, sir?' James gave his full attention to Rennie.

'We have had word from a place called Wyrefall Cove. You
have heard of it?'

'No, sir.'

'It is a very small, concealed cove, a few miles beyond
Bucklers Hard on a lonely part of the coast. A cutter is lying
there, repairing.'

'Is it the
Lark
?'

'Perhaps. The informant – '

'Only perhaps?'

'The informant is a local man, paid by Major Braithwaite
to bring news of smuggling activity along that line of coast.
The cutter he reports is painted blue, and a new mast has
been got into her from a raft alongside. She lies behind a
ledge of rock, which shields the small natural mooring.'

'Painted blue?' A frown. 'That don't sound like
Lark
. She
is black.'

'Was black, at any rate. Now she may be blue, in disguise.'

'How many crew there?'

'The man could not be certain. Naturally he had to conceal
himself some little distance away.'

'We must go there.' James, going to the chest of drawers
beside his cot, and opening his pistol case.

'I am willing to provide a dozen men,' said Colonel
Macklin.

'Thank you, Colonel, but I will not need your men tonight.
Captain Rennie and I must go there alone.'

'Alone! How in heaven's name d'y'intend to attack them,
alone?'