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Authors: Peter Smalley

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'Ah. Thank you again, Admiral, and good day to you.' He
turned towards the door, and paused. 'Oh, yes. I wonder,
Admiral, d'y'happen to know – is Sir Robert Greer at home,
at Kingshill?'

The admiral did not know, and said so. When Mr Soames
had gone, the admiral:

'Pell! Pell! – Yes yes, come in, man, do not cower in the
doorway. Go at once to Kingshill House, and discover
whether or no Sir Robert Greer is at home. Return
immediate to me with the answer.'

'Yes, sir. It is raining, at present. May I wait until – '

'Do not wait! Go at once! Jump, man!' And when Pell had
gone out: 'I will be advised, I will be informed, I will know
what is being done in Portsmouth, by God, by all persons
with RN attached to their names.' Turning to the rainspeckled
window, and glaring at the world.

Lieutenant Hayter knew that he was expected to return to the
Haslar when he had had his little excursion – but he did not
return there. Instead he accompanied Captain Rennie to the
Mary Rose Inn, where Rennie – perhaps against his better
judgement – was able to engage for him a small room at the
rear, near to his own. Richard Abey returned to the Marine
Barracks. James and Rennie repaired to the latter's room to
drink a reviving glass, and James:

'I had meant to ask you, sir, on several occasions during
today – how came the
Hawk
to Bucklers Hard? Who brought
her there?'

'I am not entirely certain, James. According to young Abey
a dockyard crew arrived soon after we had limped in and
moored off the Great Basin under cover of darkness. All
hands that could walk went ashore, and the wounded was
carried. When daylight came
Hawk
evidently had vanished.
As you know I came here, and kept myself out of view. Dr
Wing attended to the wounded, and had them brought to the
Haslar, and the other people was advised to go to the marine
barracks.'

'Mr Soames gave that advice, that instruction?'

'I know only what Mr Abey has told us, James. His
reported sighting of Soames was the first inkling I had had of
his presence here.'

'Very good. I will try to discover more on the morrow.' A
sudden dizziness caused James to lean forward, his head in his
hands, and his glass fell to the floor.

'Are you going to faint, James?' Anxiously.

'Nay, I am . . . I am quite all right.' Recovering his balance,
and sitting upright.

'You are still very weak. You must rest.'

'I am quite well . . .'

'Should not you consider returning to the Haslar, after
all?'

'No. No.' Holding up a hand. 'There is much needing my
attention. I am determined on my course.'

Rennie saw that he could not persuade his friend to return
to the hospital, and tried another tack:

'Will you in least go to bed now, and sleep? You cannot
follow any course when you are in a weakened condition, you
know.'

'Yes yes, very well, I will go to my cot. Where is my room,
exact? I have forgot.'

Rennie guided him there, and when James was safe in his
bed, his erstwhile commander sent an urgent letter to Dorset:

My dear Catherine,

James is ill, here at Portsmouth. He believes himself
recovered, but he is not. I think that your presence – if
you will come, without delay – will greatly aid him . . .
&c., &c.

He said nothing in the letter of his grave doubts as to the
wisdom and efficacy of James's plan privately to repair and
lease the
Hawk
. He said nothing of the scheme at all. He sent
the letter by express post. The letter came to Catherine at
Melton House, where she was staying a week or two with her
infant son, and as soon as she had received and read it she
came to Portsmouth.

During the intervening time of two days, James lay in his
bed at the Mary Rose, and Rennie endeavoured to discover
the likely outcome of the quarterman's survey of
Hawk
at
Bucklers Hard. He was unable to gain that intelligence, since
the survey had been further delayed.

Mr Soames kept a close eye on the crew of the
Hawk
at the
marine barracks, and made a brief foray to Kingshill, where
he called at Kingshill House. He found Sir Robert Greer at
home. That gentleman greeted him in his library, before a
crackling fire.

'Ain't the day rather warm for a fire, Sir Robert?'

'A gentleman always has a fire in his library, Soames, no
matter the season.'

Mr Soames glanced about him at the shelves of embossed
books, the wheel barometer, the busts and paintings, the view
from the long end window over the sloping lawns and
ornamental lake, and as always when he came to Kingshill
was approvingly impressed by the quiet grandeur of his
surroundings. He came to his point.

'Sir Robert, I wonder if you know of the existence of a
vessel, the
Hawk
?'

'
Hawk
? Nay, I think not. Naval vessel, is it? Why d'y'ask?'

'The
Hawk
is indeed a naval vessel, Sir Robert, a cutter.
She is commanded by Lieutenant Hayter.'

'Lieutenant James Hayter, formerly of
Expedient
?' The
voice more alert.

An inclination of the head. 'Exactly so.'

'Yes, well. I am prevented from noticing the activity of Mr
Hayter . . . official.'

'Yes, sir? Ah.' Soames pressed his lace kerchief to his
forehead, and neck, and snuffed the sharp cologne with which
it was scented, in an attempt to relieve the oppressive heat of
the fire.

'Well?' Sir Robert peered at him blackly, acutely.

'You have a continuing interest, I think, in Captain Rennie,
have not you?'

'Well?' Again the black glance.

'I think it may be possible that Captain Rennie is here, at
Portsmouth.'

'Here! You are
certain
?'

'Nay, I am not. However, I do know that the
Hawk
has
been damaged at sea, that she presently lies at Bucklers Hard,
and that two gentlemen and a youth went to view her very
recent. One of those gentlemen was Lieutenant Hayter, that
should have been lying at the Haslar Hospital, gravely
injured, and has since disappeared. Another was a midshipman
called Richard Abey, that serves with the lieutenant in
Hawk
, and is presently quartered at the marine barracks. The
third man has been identified as Mr Birch.'

'Birch? I do not know the name.'

'Nor do I, Sir Robert. I believe it to be an assumed name.'

'What? You think that Mr Birch . . . is Captain Rennie?'

'I think it very possible, even probable.'

'This young midshipman – does he know Captain Rennie?'

'He has served under him in
Expedient
.'

'And you have spoke to him, at the barracks? Asked him
whether or no the man is Rennie?'

'I have made an attempt to converse with him, but the
youth is – how shall I say? – he is not inclined to be
forthcoming.'

'You mean he defied you, hey?'

'No, Sir Robert, I would not say that he defied me. I made
the attempt to introduce into the conversation the business of
Hawk
's extensive damage, how it happened, and so forth, and
who was with Lieutenant Hayter aboard her. The boy could
not remember anything, he said.'

'Eh?' Sharply.

'He said that he had been knocked unconscious by a falling
block, at sea, and could remember nothing of the incident.'

'And you did not believe him?'

'Candidly – I did not.'

'Wise in you, Soames.' A moment, his black eyes fixed on
the flames of the fire, then: 'What is the Admiralty's interest
in this vessel?'

'It is . . . a confidential matter, Sir Robert, of which I know
little.' Not quite the truth.

'Confidential? You dare to say that to me, when I have
supported you throughout your career? Why have you come
to me at all, if you do not trust my discretion? Tell me that!'

'In truth, Sir Robert . . .' employing the scented kerchief
again '. . . I think perhaps we may be of service to each other
in this. Until now, I have merely facilitated certain documents,
and overseen a generality of instruction. I think that
perhaps Lieutenant Hayter – and with him Captain Rennie –
may have exceeded the instructions. I cannot conceive how
the
Hawk
came to be so badly damaged, unless it was by an
action at sea. No recent storm of wind, no other aberration of
weather, can have caused such damage, since there has been
no storm. I will like to find out the truth. You will like to find
Captain Rennie. In concert perhaps we may achieve our
several aims . . . ?'

Sir Robert stared dark at the Third Secretary, then turned
his gaze to the fire once more, and presently:

'It don't matter to me what task the
Hawk
has been given.
The purpose of those two officers – Hayter and Rennie both
– is to use the
Hawk
for their own ends. They will use it to
take the gold, and escape.'

'You think so, Sir Robert?'

'I do. When they returned from Rabhet the gold was in
Expedient
, and they brought it ashore, the entire, vast fortune,
and concealed it. Their aim was to wait. Wait until they had
cleared their names of any wrongdoing or neglect of duty,
and afterward load the gold into another ship, and quietly,
secretly, traitorously, make good their escape. The whole
plan has been very careful laid, Soames. Lieutenant Hayter's
father intervened in his behalf, to obtain this commission for
him. Was you aware of that?'

'I was, sir. However, I do not quite – '

'Rennie was to lie low, and as soon as the new ship was
ready, join Hayter and set sail.'

'Sail to what place, Sir Robert? To what country?'

'America, of course. There to live out their lives in glorious
luxury, on great estates, upon
stolen money
.'

Mr Soames was aware that Sir Robert had attempted to
bring a charge of treason against both of these officers, that
he had been unable to sustain the charge, and had thus been
obliged to see it lapse, and the officers go free. He was also
aware that Sir Robert had been struck down by illness, and
that Sir Robert felt that this misfortune, as much as – or
perhaps more than – any other factor, had prevented him
from pursuing Captain Rennie.

Mr Soames did not believe in the Rabhetan gold. He
believed that the gold had been lost on the Barbary coast.
He thought that Sir Robert's illness had very likely quickened
his mind to the belief that the gold was in England, and
that his imagination – honed by fancy and suspicion of others
in his work for the Secret Service Fund – had produced
tenacity of purpose in the matter. Mr Soames did not believe
in the gold, but he knew that Sir Robert would be a formidable
ally in discovering what had happened to the
Hawk
, and why
such obfuscation and mystery now apparently surrounded it.

'Ye've been to Bucklers Hard yourself, Soames?' Sir
Robert paced to the fire, turned and came back to where Mr
Soames had retreated from the heat, by a small octagonal
table.

'Erm . . . no, Sir Robert, I have not.'

'Not! You have not examined the
Hawk
?'

'I have not. I have no knowledge of damage in ships, repair,
and so forth.'

'Then how d'y'know the – '

'I have contacts within the Portsmouth Dockyard, you
know, and a certain influence there.
Hawk
was brought to
Bucklers Hard by artificers and others employed in the
Dockyard, and a quarterman appointed to survey her, since
there was no place for her at Portsmouth. So far as I have
been able to establish, nobody at the Dockyard knows how
the
Hawk
came to be damaged. You must understand – since
Captain Marles's death, I have been unable to discover very
much about the
Hawk
and her duties at all, excepting that she
was commissioned to undertake the pursuit of another cutter,
a merchant vessel, and her master. That man, it has since
emerged, died far away some time since, and had not in fact
been master of the cutter for a long time. I have made it my
business to try to find out the truth, Sir Robert. I think that
you will like to do the same.'

'I will like to be proved right, certainly.' He stared
unseeing at the splendid view through the window a moment,
then: 'Very well, Soames, we will act in concert.'

When his wife Catherine came to the Mary Rose Inn,
Lieutenant Hayter had suffered a relapse, in that he was again
greatly weakened by his injuries. The wound at his neck had
begun to bleed, and infection had occurred at one of the
injuries to his chest, nearly beneath his left arm. He had
refused to return to the Haslar, against Captain Rennie's
earnest advice, and Dr Wing had been summoned to his
bedside. Dr Wing had staunched the leaking wound, and
applied a salve and new bandages to the infection lower
down. He was there when Catherine arrived, and met her just
outside the room, as she reached the top of the stair.

'We have not met previous, Mrs Hayter, but I am an old
friend of your husband's – Thomas Wing.' A very little bow.
Dr Wing did not love to bow, given his small stature.

'You are Dr Wing? James has told me so much about
you . . .' A smile, that faltered. 'Is he – is James very ill?'
Glancing anxiously at the closed door.

'He is not mortal ill. Not if he will listen to advice, and
allow himself to be took back into the Haslar without delay.'

'What is his condition? Captain Rennie wrote only that he
was ill . . .'

'He has been – well, perhaps it will be better if he tells you
himself, Mrs Hayter. I will leave you together, and return
later today.'

Dr Wing went away downstairs, and Catherine opened the
door and went into the little bare brown box of a room, ill-lit
and fusty-smelling, and saw her husband.

'Catherine, my darling . . .' Tears started in James's eyes,
and he attempted to lift himself in the narrow bed, but was
defeated.

BOOK: The Hawk
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