The Gathering Storm (9 page)

To keep himself occupied, and to sharpen his crew, Captain
Rennie instigated a rigorous programme of gunnery exercises,
feeling that his guncrews remained unproficient. This
was abandoned, however, on the second day at sea, when
the weather swiftly deteriorated. What should have been an
easy little southward cruise of two days became five. Summer
storms moved in from the Atlantic, swept up the Channel
and ran blustery and turbulent in over the coast of France.
Rennie had to beat close-hauled to the west to avoid being
driven on a lee shore, beat into the teeth of the storms, and
everything and everywhere in the ship was very wet and
uncomfortable. The fire in the Brodie stove in the fo'c's'le
went out, and cold rations were issued in the messes. Rum
was issued to those men who preferred it over beer, and
Rennie ordered that those men coming off watch should be
given their rum unwatered if they wished it.

Before the storms came, Rennie had obliged James to go
into the orlop during the exercising of the great guns, where
he would be out of the way.

'Could not I observe on deck? It is only an exercise,
after all.'

'Cleared for action, James, as you know very well, there
is no place for an idler on deck.'

'Am I an idler?'

'Well well, supernumerary. In effect the same thing, James.
No place for you on deck, dear fellow, when we are at quarters
and tompions out. Y'must go into the orlop. Spend your
time with Dr Wing.'

'Eh? Good God, if you recognised me, surely so will he,
will he not?'

'Talk to him in French. He is eager to grow fluent, and
he delights in displaying all of his medical instruments and
their uses. Like many surgeons he is at heart a ghoul, you
know. He will hardly notice who you are – only an interested
layman.'

'You will like to make jokes, sir – but supposing he does
detect me under my peruke?'

'I'll wager you he won't. Half a guinea, what say you?'

Thus James found himself thrust into the company of
Dr Wing in the cockpit. James and Thomas Wing were
old friends, and James feared that at such proximity the
sharp-eyed surgeon could not fail to see through his
disguise. Dr Wing gave no such indication. As Rennie had
confidently predicted he wished only to practise his French
on the newcomer.

'I hope you will not mind, Mr Tonnelier?'

'No, no, in course not.' Crouching on the stool the doctor
had provided in the cramped space.

'I am not yet fluent.'

'I am at my ease.' A tight little smile, half hidden by the
beard.

'I fear we are lamentably short of space down here. The
chest that is placed between us is for the performance of
procedures, should they be required during an action.
Comprendez-vous?
'

'
Ah, oui. La chirurgie
.' A nod.

Dr Wing continued in careful French. He pulled toward
him a leather fold, and laid out on the top of the chest his
array of surgical instruments: amputating saw, metacarpal
saw, catling, bistoury, forceps, scalpel, tenaculum, aneurysm
needle. James, in spite of his long experience of the sea, of
action at sea and its bloody consequences, began to feel
distinctly queasy. He had never before spent any great length
of time in the cockpit. In usual, during gunnery exercises,
or during action itself, his place was on the deck in the open
air, in the bracing stink of powder and flaming wad. Down
here in the bowels of the ship the stench of the bilges was
today very distinct, and Dr Wing's sedulous descriptions of
the tools of his trade began to take their toll.

'Doctor ...' James, at last. 'I wonder if – if we might
discuss something else?'

'Excusez-moi, monsieur?'

'Erm ... parlons du temps, non?'

'Ahh ... ahh ...
mais certainement, monsieur, naturellement
.'
Was there a subdued gleam in his eye as he nodded politely
in agreement?

James was almost relieved when the weather worsened, as
then gunnery exercises ceased, the great guns were double-breeched
in their tackles, and the flintlocks shrouded. Bad
weather did not require him to descend into the orlop. He
was permitted to remain in the coach, out of sight, and even
on one brief occasion to go on deck. Rennie had at first
refused. James persisted.

'I am desperately in need of fresh air, sir. I am very stale
cooped up in the coach.'

'I do not wish you to be seen on deck, James. At any rate,
you ain't dressed for it. Your fine clothes will be ruined in
this weather.'

'I was hoping that you would lend me a foul weather cloak,
sir, and a hat ... ?'

'Eh? Oh, very well, very well.' Rennie found his second
cloak, and a battered hat, and handed them to James. 'But
ye'd better stay close to me, clinging to a lifeline as if you
was a terrified landlubber, hey?'

'Very good, sir.'

And presently Captain Rennie and his guest ventured out
of the cabin, climbed the ladder, and came up into the
streaming, wind-tearing din of the storm. As they trod aft,
pulling themselves hand over hand by the lifelines, ducking
their heads under their hats against the wind, the lifting mass
and swell of the sea surged all around. Pitching and sliding
and heeling
Expedient
ran on – shuddering, creaking,
groaning. She sank down into a trough, rose again in
a pouring flood of water from the rails, and plunged like a
wild animal into the thudding fury of the next onslaught.
Smashed curtains of spray fell far over the waist, as far aft
as the breast-rail. Four men fought the wheel, two on the
weather spokes, two on the lee. James clapped on to a stay
and clung as
Expedient
shivered again like a great beast, rolled
heavily and thudded with awful force into a freakishly big
sea. The deck, angled steep, was wholly and heavily inundated,
and swam submerged. James clung and clung and felt
his legs dragged from under him by the sheer rushing volume
of water. His legs trailed aft a long moment, then his feet
found the deck and he managed a semblance of standing.
Rennie – knocked bodily against the binnacle – coughed,
spat, grabbed another line and hauled himself abaft the wheel.

'How ... does ... she lie!' Bellowed to the quartermaster,
who was half drowned under his cloak.

'She is sagging off heavy, sir!'

'Someone must go below into the hold!' shouted James,
before he could prevent himself. Fortunately nobody heard
him, and he turned away toward the rail, keeping his head low.

'We must get a party into the hold, and find out if tiers
have shifted!' Rennie, to the sailing master, who now appeared
lurching and streaming at his shoulder. 'Mr Loftus, I will
like you to take half a dozen strong men with you, and if
casks have broke loose secure them without the loss of a
moment! Y'will report to me in half a glass! I wish to know
if we must retrim!'

'Aye, sir.' Departing.

'Mr Dangerfield!'

The senior mid advanced, clinging to a line and ducking
his head. 'Sir?'

'Where is Mr Souter?' Cupping his hand.

'He was took ill, sir, and has gone below!'

'The officer of the watch has gone below? God damn his
negligence!' Looking forrard briefly. 'Mr Dangerfield, you
will take the con until Mr Loftus returns! I am going forrard!'

'Aye, sir!'

'Mr Tonnelier ...' Turning to look for James. At that
moment the ship struck another heavy sea, and for half a
minute no further communication was possible on deck.
Presently, as the ship rose on the great rolling lift, and
shook herself free of flood, Rennie gripped James's arm
and:

'This was a damned bad notion, after all! You will go
below, if y'please!'

'I am quite all right—'

'That ain't a request, Mr Tonnelier! You will get your arse
below right quick – if y'please!' A fierce glare.

'Thank you, then I will.'

And James went below, reluctantly went, knowing that to
defy Rennie under the circumstances would be nothing but
folly.

Later, when Rennie himself had come below, James was
witness – by virtue of overhearing most of it from the coach
– to an exchange in the great cabin between the summoned
carpenter Mr Adgett, and Captain Rennie.

'Now then, Mr Adgett, what depth of water in the well,
did y'say?'

'Three foot, sir, and rising.'

'Rising? The pumps ain't adequate?'

'As I say, sir, I am of the opinion that there is a leak
forrard.'

'Leak?' A note of concern.

'I cannot locate it accurate just at present, but I b'lieve
that is the cause of the ship sagging off and behaving sluggish
on the rise of the sea – and not the shifting of tiers, sir,
which was very small. Some few water casks did break loose,
but they was secured.'

'So that is why the ship is by the head, Mr Adgett. We
must double-man the pumps, men to be relieved each half-glass.
I shall say so to Mr Makepeace, and Mr Loftus. In the
interim you will continue to search for the leak.'

'Aye, sir.'

'If the weather continues severe – we may have to return
to Portsmouth.'

'Aye, sir, we may indeed. As I say—'

Over him: 'Find the leak if you are able, and stop it. If
y'cannot, report to me again at the change of the watch.
Thank you, Mr Adgett.'

'Very good, sir.' And the carpenter departed.

Presently James ventured into the cabin, and anxiously:

'Return to Portsmouth, sir?'

'We must hope not, James, but it may become a necessity.'

'Surely Adgett can find the leak? Surely a repair may be
affected at sea? As you are aware, sir, I have only until—'

'James, we have discussed your going ashore in all particulars
– save these. Bad weather, and a leaking ship. Even if
we find the leak, any attempt to put you ashore in these
conditions would be fatal not only to you but to my coxswain
and boat's crew. Even to attempt to stand in sufficient close
to hoist out a boat and see it safely away would be grossly
irresponsible.'

'The weather may perhaps abate. Don't you think so?'
Gripping a timber standard as the ship lurched and yawed.

'Abate! Christ's blood, James, you are a sea officer of long
experience! D'y'see any sign of an imminent calm!' Nodding
toward the part-shuttered stern gallery window, and the
heaving sea beyond.

'Yes, sir, forgive me, but I am under a most pressing obligation
to—'

'Your obligation is to go into the coach, and stay there.'

'Sir, if I may just—'

'Y'may not. You are in my way, sir.' Pushing past him as
the ship again rode deep in a heavy, creaking roll. 'Sentry!'

The sentry came to the door, looking very green about his
nose and mouth, and James reluctantly retreated to the coach.

'Pass the word for the first lieutenant to attend me in the
great cabin.' Rennie nodded in dismissal and as the sentry
departed: 'With my compliments, say to him! If he pleases!'

Fortunately for James – and all aboard – he was proved
correct. As night fell over the sea so did the storm subside,
and by four bells of the second dog watch calm had descended,
the stars and a sliver of moon appeared, and
Expedient
was
relieved of immediate peril.

Captain Rennie summoned his second lieutenant to the
great cabin, on the fifth day out of Portsmouth, the French
coast now mistily visible to the east, in the form of the
Côtes des Abers. Porspoder lay some five leagues east of
Expedient
, and the point at which James – Mr Tonnelier –
must be put ashore lay some ten miles to the south. The
Pointe de Malaise was the westernmost tip of land in the
Chenal du Four. Numerous rocky islets lay close in, and
the whole coastline was treacherous. Rennie looked up from
the chart.

'Mr Leigh, there you are.'

'Sir?' Coming in, his hat under his arm, very correct. He
stood in front of Rennie's table.

'You are aware that Mr Souter is took ill?' He did not
invite the young man to sit down.

'I am, sir, yes. The poor fellow—'

Over him: 'It means that ye must rearrange the watches
between you – you and Mr Makepeace, and Mr Loftus. As
you know, in
Expedient
the first lieutenant always takes his
watch, so that the second and third are not obliged to keep
the deck watch on watch.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Now that Mr Souter cannot take his watch, Mr Loftus
must stand in his place.'

'Aye, sir, very good.'

'In course Mr Loftus may at his discretion ask the master's
mate Mr Dangerfield to stand his watch, take the con and
so forth, if as sailing master his duties call him elsewhere in
the ship.'

'Yes, sir.'

'We have a troublesome leak forrard, not altogether
pressing, but we must be vigilant as to pumps, trim, and so
forth.'

'I am aware of it, yes, sir.'

'Now then. We will approach the French coast, and send
in a boat party, Mr Leigh. You will command that party.'

'This is – this concerns our duty of survey, sir?'

'Exact, exact, Mr Leigh. The survey. We will make all the
relevant observations, take bearings and prepare, during
the hours of daylight. Then the boat will go in at night.'

'At night?' In great surprise.

'You heard me correct, Mr Leigh. At night.'

'D'y'mean, it is – it is like a cutting-out party, sir?'

'Nay, I do not. You will put a man ashore.'

'And this is part of our duty of survey, sir?' Thoroughly
puzzled.

'Yes yes, Mr Leigh, it is.' Nodding. 'The survey is to be
comprehensive in all distinctions. Step to the table, if y'
please, and I will show you on the chart where I wish this
to be done.'

Mr Leigh did as he was told, and bent over the weighted
chart on the table. It was several years old, but looked
accurate in every detail, down to the smallest shoal
and rock, marked depths by fathom, the carefully intricate
line of the shore, even details of vegetation immediately
inland.

'Here is the place.' Rennie pointed to the Pointe de
Malaise.

'Good heaven ...' Involuntarily aghast.

'Yes, you are going to say, are not you, Mr Leigh, that
putting a man ashore there is damn' near impossible?'

'Well, I – I would not say quite impossible, you know ...
but pretty near. Sir.'

'Indeed. And that is why we must make our observations
with utmost caution, exactitude, and precision, during the
hours of daylight. This chart is all very fine, it is a good
chart in its way, but we must make observations and take
bearings, the situation of every shoal, rock and islet, to a
degree that allows of
no error at all
. You have me?'

'I – I think so, sir.'

'Think so?' Sharply.

'I mean, I do understand you perfectly, sir. No error at
all.'

'Very well. I will stand in as far as I dare, and then we will
hoist out the ship's boats. Mr Dangerfield to command
the large cutter, you will command the launch, and Mr
Makepeace will command the pinnace. Each boat to carry an
Hadley's, boat's compass, sounding lead, long glass, and an
accurate pocket timepiece, and of course instrument cases,
pens and notebooks, and existing charts, for comparison and
alteration.'

'Who will take our watches, sir?'

'Mr Loftus will keep the deck, and I will keep the deck
myself, in addition, while we lie at anchor.'

'Very good, sir. Erm, permission to make a suggestion,
sir?'

'Well?'

'Do not you think that it will require more than a single
day to make all of the observations, sir, and chart them
accurate?'

'We have already lost three days to storms, Mr Leigh.
There ain't a moment to lose, now. The man must be got
ashore tonight.'

'May I ask ... forgive me, sir, for these questions ... but
may I ask how long this man will remain ashore? Are we to
wait for him, while he makes his own observations, or—'

'You will not wait for him at all. You will put him ashore,
stand away and return to the ship.'

'We are to leave him there, in France?'

'You are. You will. And before you ask: why? I will say
only this: it is all a question of the silk trade.'

'Silk, did y'say, sir? Then the man to go ashore is our
supernumerary, Mr Tennelier?'

'Aye, that is the man. And his name is Tonnelier, Mr Leigh.
Henry Tonnelier. He is to go in your boat.'

'Very good, sir.'

'He is to meet representatives of the French silk trade ashore,
in secret, and try to discover from them how the disastrous
falling-off of that trade in France may be circumvented, as a
way of preventing a similar falling-off in England. You see?'

'Yes, sir. Well ... in fact I do not, sir. However, it ain't my
business to question the efficacy of such a plan.'

'No, Mr Leigh, it ain't. I shall anchor ... here. The boats
will then be hoisted out, and you will proceed thus.' He
designated an area for each boat, drawing lines in pencil on
the chart. 'From your observations we will then decide upon
which channel your own boat will follow tonight, through
the rocks, shoals and islets to the one possible landing place
at Malaise – this inlet.' Tapping the chart with his pencil,
and drawing a cross at the place.

'Are we to have lights of any kind, sir? I know that local
fishermen along much of the French coast use lanterns at
night to—'

'There can be no lights of any kind. None.'

'Then – forgive me, sir – how are we to read the chart at
night, in order to find our way in?'

'You must commit the final chart to memory, and navigate
by dead reckoning. Everything you do in the hours of
daylight will be vital to your success tonight.'

'Very good, sir.' Troubled, but determined not to show it.

'No doubt you are wondering, Mr Leigh, why I have not
put Mr Makepeace in command of this little expedition
tonight, hm?'

'It – it had crossed my mind, sir, since he is the senior
lieutenant.'

'Because I want him here with me in
Expedient
, should we
need to defend ourselves.'

*

The boats had returned by nightfall, their work accomplished
as planned. Now the single boat remaining in the water,
close in by
Expedient
's side, was the second lieutenant's boat,
the ship's launch. With a minimum of fuss and notice
Mr Tonnelier made his way into the waist and descended
the ladder. He was clad in a dark cloak and hat, his face
nearly hidden. He nearly forgot to go down the ladder a
trifle clumsily, to show that here was a lubberly fellow, but
managed to stumble over the thwarts and rock the boat a
little as he made his way into the stern sheets.

'Plausibly done,' murmured Rennie to himself as he
watched from the deck.

The coxswain stood at the tiller, the man in the bow pushed
the boat clear, and the double-banked boat's crew obeyed
Mr Leigh's command: 'Give way together!' The launch swung
toward the shore in the darkness, and slid from view in a
rhythmic washing of oars.

'I hope they don't come to calamity in getting him ashore.'
Again to himself, and Rennie pushed himself away from the
rail. He sent a boy to ask Lieutenant Makepeace to join him
in the great cabin, and went aft. Presently Tom Makepeace
joined him.

'Tell me again, Tom, will ye? Y'saw nothing in the way of
other ships today?'

'No, sir. Only fishing boats. Bisquines, I believe. Heavywaled,
squat, broad in the beam, lugger-rigged.' With sea
officer's accuracy of observation.

'And did they notice you, d'y'think?'

'Well, as I wrote in my report, sir, I think they did – but
they did not attempt communication of any kind. We kept
to ourselves, and so did they.'

'Yes, very well.' Tapping a chart, rubbing the back of his
neck. 'We may only hope and pray that nothing awaits our
launch inshore except breakers and rocks and other inanimate
delights. Hey?'

'Indeed, sir.'

'Silence is to be the watchword, Tom, all tonight, until
the launch returns.'

'I have passed the word, sir.'

'Anchor watches, but we must remain wholly alert. I am
not persuaded entire that we shall remain here unremarked.
Say to Mr Tangible that he is to be ready to beat to quarters
at any moment.'

'I have already done so, sir.'

'Good, very good. Hm, I am not hungry, not at all, but
we had better observe the conventions, I expect, and eat a
supper. Will y'join me, Tom?'

'Gladly, sir.'

'We will eat, but we will not drink. We must have clear
heads.'

*

In the launch James sat in the stern sheets with Lieutenant
Leigh, who crouched forward very tense, a hand clutching
the gunwale. His voice sounded strained:

'Steady, coxswain, steady ...'

The man in the bow swung the lead, the line tied with
fathom marks, and presently the word came back:

'Fifteen fathom, sand and shell.'

'Very good, very well.'

'You are quite certain of our passage through the rocks,
Mr Leigh?' James, in the darkness, in an attempt to be affable.
The attempt failed.

'I have it clear in my head.' Curtly, as if to say: do not
talk to me.

The boat ran on, driven by the straining backs and arms
of seamen, and double-banked oars. James was aware of a
bulked mass against the stars to larboard, and the sucking
and washing of waves against rocks, very close.

'That is the larger of the islets,' he said, but not aloud.

During the day he had stood on deck with Captain Rennie,
and observed. He saw that the boat would have to pass
between two rocky islets, and then through a maze of rocks
and shoals beyond. He borrowed Rennie's glass, ostensibly
to look at the ship's boats. Through the glass he looked at
those rocks, and thought he could discern a way through for
a boat – a boat handled with skill. He turned his attentions
to the ship's boats, swinging the glass across them. It was all
very fine, he had reflected, as he watched the boats' officers
making their charting observations, to plot the intended
course in broad day; it would be quite another thing to find
the way through in the blinding folds of night. Handing the
glass back to Rennie:

'My thanks, sir. A remarkably accurate glass, the view is
admirably enlarged and clear.'

'Aye, it is a Dollond. The finest ground lenses in London.
It cost me a pretty penny.'

James was brought sharply back to the present by a splash
of sea water in the face, flung back from the blade of an oar.
The bulky mass to larboard was gone, and the boat was again
in open water. Ahead lay the most treacherous part of the
passage – through the narrow channel and on to the rocky
inlet under the rearing headland. James could hear Lieutenant
Leigh's harsh, tense breathing, and feel his wound-spring
tension beside him. By contrast the rhythm of the oars in
muffled thole pins was almost soothing, the blowing breath
of the boat's crew like the sighing of a whale. The rippling
wash of the oar blades and the gentle seething of the sea
were nearly soporific. James shook himself resolutely awake,
snuffing in a deep breath of saline air. Soon his attention
drifted, and he allowed himself to wonder what lay ahead
for him.

He was late – days late – for the rendezvous with his
French contact. Would there be anyone there when he got
ashore? And what would they want of him, what would they
require immediate? He still had no strong idea of why he
had been sent, in spite of Mappin's repeated promises to let
him know.

'He never did tell me anything of substance.' Muttered
under his breath. Another bracing splash of sea water. 'Too
late now, I must make the best of whatever I find, and try
to do whatever is asked of me.'

All he knew for certain – other than that his journey was
of vital importance – was the password he must produce,
when challenged: '
Deus ex machina
'.

Suitably theatrical, he thought, and smiled tightly in the
darkness. In what way was he a descending god, come to
solve the difficulties of hapless mortals? In his head: 'I am
only a damned wet sea officer, crouched in a boat and
disguised as a someone else. As a bewigged, foppish landlubber,
for Christ's sake.' And not for the first time today,
nor yesterday, nor the day before, he shook his head and
wondered: 'What am I
doing
, for the love of God? Why on
earth did I
agree
to this nonsense?'

'Eh? What say?' Lieutenant Leigh hoarsely, beside him.

'Nay, I – I was merely going over something in my head,
you know.'

'Cannot you understand? We must keep silent in the boat.'
Curtly.

He was frightened, thought James with a sudden clarity.
The young man was desperately fearful, which was why his
manners had deserted him.

Abruptly the boat lurched, scraped against something, and
Mr Leigh was flung forward. His head struck the roundel
of an oar, jutting from a seaman's hand, and he pitched across
a thwart senseless.

'Mr Leigh!' James, in alarm.

'He is knocked witless, sir.' A seaman.

The boat lurched heavily again, and there was another
juddering scrape. Now the boat drifted clear and began to
swing beam-on in the current. Curses, the faint glinting of
lifted oars.