The Launching of Roger Brook (15 page)

As he did so he asked Roger how he was feeling, and Roger, having entirely forgotten the plea by which he had induced the smuggler to take him on the trip, replied cheerfully: ‘I never felt better, Dan: I’m as fit as a fiddle.’

‘’Tis just as I told ’e,’ Dan laughed. ‘Tain’t no different in mid-channel, here, than ’tis huggin’ the coast in a bit o’ a yawl. An’ we’s nigher to France than England now. Come six o’clock we should make a landfall.’

The early hours of the afternoon drifted by uneventfully but soon after four o’clock Nick Bartlett, who was acting as lookout, called: ‘Sail astern, Cap’n.’

Slipping a noose of rope over one of the spokes of the wheel to keep it in position Dan picked up a spy-glass and focused it on the speck that the surly longshoreman had reported.

After a few moments he lowered his telescope with a curse and added: ‘’Tis the Revenue cutter
Expedition
; Ollie Nixon be after us again.’

‘Well, you’ve naught to fear’, Roger said in an effort to reassure him. ‘’Tis the
Sally Ann
that he’ll be interested in, not us.’

‘Aye, let’s hope so,’ Dan muttered, ‘may God rot his guts.’

The captain of the
Sally Ann
had also evidently sighted the Revenue cutter, as she began to play her part as a decoy and draw away, while the
Albatross
held on her course.

All the crew bad now assembled on deck and for the next half-hour they watched the Revenue cutter anxiously. She was considerably faster than either of the other ships, and soon began to overhaul them. In order to avoid arousing
the Revenue men’s suspicions the
Sally Ann
had not taken any drastic action that would have been immediately perceptible to them but only adopted a slightly divergent course a few more points to westward; so it was at first impossible to tell whether the cutter was in pursuit of the schooner or the lugger.

Then, to their dismay, the issue became certain. The
Sally Ann
was now a good two miles away and had dropped some distance astern; but the
Expedition
was ignoring her and, with all sail spread, coming up in the wake of the
Albatross
.

‘Darn his eyes!’ Dan swore. ‘He’ve smelled our red herring once too often, an’ he means to board us.’

‘What if he does?’ said Roger. ‘You’ve not loaded your contraband yet, so he can’t lay a finger on you.’

‘Nay,’ Dan muttered uneasily, ‘Tonight we’ve naught to fear ’cept from the Frenchies. But Ollie Nixon havin’ tumbled to our ruse bodes ill for our homeward run. Once he have satisfied hisself that ’tis me an’ my lads is aboard the
Albatross
he’ll patrol these waters for days to get us.’

While they had been talking the cutter had come up to within hailing distance of the schooner and a faint but clear call came to them from across the water:

‘Heave-to, there! In the King’s name, heave-to!’

With another curse Dan gave the wheel a spin, bringing the schooner round within six points of the wind, so that her sails emptied and began to flop idly against her stays. Her crew scattered quickly to reef them in, and while they were still busy at it the cutter drew abreast. No sooner had she checked her way than some of her people began to get out a boat. It was easy to see that they were used to the business, from the despatch they used, and five minutes later a smart gig was making fast to the schooner’s stern.

A heavy, red-faced man hauled himself aboard and his sharp black eyes swept the little group of sullen-looking sailors.

‘Arternoon, Mr. Nixon,’ said Dan, with the best grace he could muster.

‘So, ’tis you, Dan Izzard,’ Nixon muttered, ‘I guessed as much. What are you and your culleys doing aboard the
Albatross
?’

‘Cap’n Cummings giv’ me the loan o’ her, Sir. ’E’ll allow there’s naught illegal in that.’

‘Nay, naught illegal, but ’tis monstrous fishy seeing that I know you to have sailed from Lymington last night in the
Sally Ann
. What cargo are you carrying; or are you in ballast?’

‘In ballast, may it please your honour,’ replied Dan sarcastically.

Nixon turned to a petty officer who had scrambled aboard after him. ‘Nip down into her hold, Higgins, and take a look-see.’

As the man moved to obey Dan threw up a hand to restrain him and grumbled: ‘Easy, easy. If ’e must stick ’e’s nose into other folks’ business ’tis a cargo o’ salt we have aboard, an’ we’re bound for Le Havre.’

‘So that’s the lay, is it?’ Nixon’s heavy face broke into a sly grin. ‘All right, Higgins, we’ll take his word for it.’

‘B’ain’t naught illegal in that, neither,’ said Dan with a scowl.

‘Not if you land your salt openly at Le Havre; but I’m not in King Louis’s pay, so that’s not my affair.’

As Nixon turned to regain his boat he suddenly caught sight of Roger who, up till then, had been standing half-concealed from him by the big wheel. Halting, he exclaimed in surprise:

‘Why, ’tis Master Brook! What would you be doing here?’

‘I’m shortly going into the Navy, Sir,’ Roger replied promptly. ‘And I came on this trip to try out my sea legs.’

‘’Tis strange company to find a young gentleman in,’ Nixon frowned. ‘I’ll make no accusations I can’t prove: but if there’s contraband in the vessel next time I board her ’twill be my duty to take you, if you’re among her crew, and charge you with the rest.’

Roger flushed slightly as he lied: ‘I’m sure Dan Izzard and his men intend nothing illegal, Sir.’

‘I am entitled to my doubts of that, and if you’re here for a lark it has lasted long enough. If ’tis no more than a sea trip you sought come with me, and I’ll give you passage home.’

Thanks, Sir, but I’ve never been abroad and I’m all agog to see Le Havre, so, if you’ll excuse me, I prefer to stay with Dan.’

‘Unless my wits deceive me, should you remain aboard the
Albatross
there’s a chance of you finding yourself in a French galley instead of seeing Le Havre. Come now! Come
home with me, and let me earn your mother’s gratitude.’

Roger did not fully take in the meaning of this allusion to a French galley and, even had he done so, it seemed to him now that so much depended on his being able to land in France, that it is doubtful if he would have allowed the warning to influence him. As it was he simply shook his head and said again: ‘Thanks, Sir, but I prefer to stay with Dan.’

Nixon shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘So be it then; but I fear you’ll have cause to repent of your folly before you’re much older.’

With a curt nod to Dan he went over the ship’s side, followed by his man, and a moment later the gig’s crew were giving way lustily as they pulled him back to the
Expedition
.

The sails of the
Albatross
were re-set and, leaving the Revenue cutter behind, she was soon skimming over the water towards the French coast once more.

A little belatedly, and uneasily now, Roger was thinking over Mr. Nixon’s sinister remark, that he might find himself in a French galley instead of seeing Le Havre. If Dan had a cargo of Lymington salt aboard it was obviously destined for France. The French, so Roger had heard, were forced to pay an exceptionally high price for this simple commodity, owing to an exorbitant tax that their king had put upon it. The tax was called the
gabelle
, and was one of the French people’s principal reasons for discontent against the monarchy. Since Dan had for years earned his living by smuggling illicit spirits into England it seemed most unlikely that he would willingly pay a heavy import duty in order to land a cargo of salt in France.

Having reached the conclusion that Dan contemplated making a big illegal profit at both ends of his trip, Roger was not particularly perturbed by the additional risk in which he had unwittingly involved himself, because Dan had for so many years proved himself a capable and canny smuggler, but he became extremely worried at the thought that the
Albatross
might both unload her cargo of salt and take on a new one of spirits in some secluded cove, and not enter the port of Le Havre at all.

Striving to conceal his anxiety he went up to Dan and asked: ‘What time should we make Le Havre, Dan?’

‘First light tomorrow morning, all bein’ well, lad,’ Dan replied quite casually. ‘We’ve a rendezvous, as the Frenchies
call it, wi’ some friends o’ mine farther down the coast tonight. Then we beats up channel to the port to pick up our nice drop o’ liquor, an’ sails for home at dusk.’

This was highly reassuring, and Roger smothered a sigh of relief, as it now seemed clear that they were not only really going to Le Havre, but that he would have the whole day in which to go ashore and dispose of his jewels.

‘Do the French Preventives give you much trouble?’ he asked after a moment.

‘Nay. They’s nothin’ nigh so smart as our chaps, nor so numerous. ’Tis good money for old rope so long as ’e don’t fall foul o’ one o’ they’s men o’ war. Look, lad! Do’st see the dark streak on the horizon, yonder? ’Tis the coast of France.’

All else forgotten, Roger picked up Dan’s spy-glass and, glueing his eye to it, endeavoured to make out the features of that strange land where lived England’s traditional enemies, and of which he had heard so much.

Occasionally Dan glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Nixon’s cutter. He had thought that after boarding him she would put back towards England, if only temporarily, but to his annoyance she continued to follow in the wake of the
Albatross
under three-quarter sail. Now, as he luffed and brought the schooner round on to a westward course so that she should run down the Normandy coast while still some miles distant from it, the cutter ignored his action and, somewhat to his surprise, continued on a course towards Le Havre.

Soon after this they took their evening meal, and when Roger came on deck again the cutter had disappeared from sight. But now they were considerably nearer the French coast and here and there could see small craft working their way along it.

About nine o’clock, just as the summer dusk was beginning to fall, they discerned twenty or thirty dots on the horizon astern, which Dan said were the Le Havre fishing fleet putting out to sea. Roger watched them idly through the spy-glass for a while. They too, seemed to be on a westward course as, although they grew no larger, they did not drop from view; and one of them that seemed to be much larger than the rest even appeared to be gaining on the
Albatross
.

He was just about to draw Dan’s attention to this bigger
ship when he was distracted by the smuggler giving orders for the lowering of the main and fore sails; as they had now come opposite that part of the coast where he had his rendezvous and he intended to lay off there until full darkness would cover his landing operation.

When Roger looked through the glass again he saw that not one but two of the ships in the fishing fleet were of different build and, clearly now, much larger than the rest. Both had detached themselves from the scattered line of dots and were coming on ahead of them under full sail. Running over to Dan he pointed them out to him.

Dan took the glass and studied them for a moment. ‘’Tis two traders, what have sailed out o’ Le Havre on the tide, like as not,’ he declared. ‘But take the glass, lad, and keep ’e’s eye upon they.’

Again Roger focused on the two oncoming ships for a few moments. There seemed something vaguely familiar about the rig of the smaller of the two, and suddenly he recognised her.

‘The smaller one,’ he cried, ‘’Tis Mr. Nixon’s cutter.’

Dan snatched the telescope from him. ‘Aye, lad, ’e’s right!’ he grunted. ‘What devil’s work would he be up to now? And what be other craft? Hi! Fred Mullins! What make ’e of yon ship? The bigger o’ the two.’

The ex-naval rating took the glass and, steadying it against a stay, took a long look at the approaching ships. Identification was not easy, owing to the falling twilight and the fact that the stranger craft being dead astern only her bows and fore sails were visible.

‘She’s a Frenchie,’ he muttered. ‘And if I mistake not, a thirty-six-gun frigate.’

‘God’s death!’ swore Dan. ‘’Tis as I feared. That bastard Nixon has betrayed us. Just think on it. What sort o’ Englishman is he who would bring the Frogs upon us, an’ send we to a daily floggin’ in they’s galleys. Avast, there! Avast! Up sail an’ away.’

Instantly every member of the crew flung himself into feverish activity. To be caught smuggling contraband into England was one thing, except on overwhelming evidence no bench of magistrates would convict; to be captured by the French quite another—it meant a hideous and long-drawn-out death, rotting in chains shackled to an oar, in one of the French war galleys. In a bare ten minutes every
sail the schooner could carry was set and she was standing out to sea, their one hope now being to escape in the gathering darkness.

As the light deepened they watched their pursuers with terrible anxiety. Both ships had altered course and were now beating seaward on lines converging with that of the schooner in the hope of cutting her off. The frigate and the
Expedition
were both faster ships than their prey and it was soon perceptible that they were gaining on her.

Roger prayed for darkness as he had never prayed before, yet it seemed that the long summer twilight scarcely deepened and that night would never fall. Dan stood grimly by the wheel getting every ounce of way out of the schooner of which she was capable. His crew had wrenched aside her hatches and, working like madmen, were now jettisoning her cargo, in the hope that if they could only get all the great blocks of salt overboard before the frigate came up with her they would be able to show a hold free of contraband.

As Roger lent a hand, he kept an anxious eye on the frigate. Staggering under the weight of one of the blocks he was just about to tip it overboard when he saw a little cloud of white smoke issue from her fo’c’sle head. A moment later he heard a sharp report. He did not see the shot but guessed that their pursuer had fired a round from her long gun at some point ahead of their bows to bring them to.

The shadows had deepened now and, ignoring the warning, Dan held on his course, still hoping that night might cover their escape from French waters.