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Authors: Peter Smalley

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'I am not altogether certain that Aidan Faulk was in the
Lark
, anyway.'

'He was not in the corvette, was he?'

'He was not. We searched among the injured.'

'When I lay in the orlop my captors thought I had fallen
senseless under their torture. I was not always senseless. I
know that Faulk came into the corvette, and then went out of
her again. Where did he go, but to his own vessel? – Will not
you think again, James, and return to – '

'And what of my injured people?' Over him, hotly. 'What
is to become of them, hey?'

'Dr Wing is the most capable surgeon in the Royal Navy,
James. In the short time it will take us to reach the
Lark
he
will bring to your injured people all the immediate succour
and aid they could ever hope for at the Haslar. If they survive,
then they may go to the Haslar upon our return. If not, then
they would not have survived in any case.'

James stared at him a long moment, was tempted to say
that Rennie was ungrateful, very ungrateful, to press him so
harsh – then he saw that Rennie was in all likelihood correct,
that Rennie wished only to assist him, warmly assist him, and
guide him to a happy outcome.

A nod. 'Very well, sir, we will return briefly to the
Lark
.'

But when the
Hawk
reached the bearing at sea where they
had last seen the
Lark
, lying severely damaged, adrift – she
was nowhere to be seen.

EIGHT

Mr Hope was yet in a poor condition of health at the Haslar
Hospital at Gosport, but Sir Robert Greer had again
recovered sufficient to be able to sit up in his bed and receive
callers. He was with his physician, the forbearing Dr Bell, and
his stout man of business Mr Purvis. Sir Robert had heard the
advice of his doctor to remain in bed, and the advice of his
man of business about the purchase of a parcel of land nearby;
had ignored the one, and agreed with the other; had made it
clear to both – as he swung his legs out of bed and gained the
chair adjacent – that he expected the arrival almost immediate
of another visitor – from London.

'In little, you will like us to retire, Sir Robert?' Dr Bell
sighed and closed up his bag. Mr Purvis gathered his sheaves
of documents, notes and deeds, and tied them up in a leather
fold.

'Gentlemen.' From the chair. 'Good day to ye.'

Mr Purvis went out of the door, but Dr Bell paused there,
opened his mouth, and:

'You waste your wind, Doctor, if y'seek to chastise me,'
said Sir Robert, before the doctor could speak. 'I know my
own capacities, I think, and how to husband them. Good day.'

Dr Bell conceded, nodded, and retired.

Quarter of an hour passed, then Sir Robert's servant Fender
tapped at the chamber door, opened it, and announced:

'Mr Soames is here, Sir Robert.'

'Come in, Soames, come in.'

Mr Soames duly came in. His journey overnight from
London had not been comfortable. The express coach had
thrown a wheel, the passengers had been violently flung
about as the hub struck the road in a shower of sparks, and
there had been the delay of two hours until the wheel could
be found, and the hub repaired and greased. Soames had sat
with the other passengers in a dirty, smelly, ramshackle inn,
its doors opened with the utmost reluctance by a surly
landlord, who would not give them anything hot to drink.
Soames had arrived at Portsmouth tired, hungry and thirsty,
in the small hours, had been unable to engage a room, and
had sat disconsolate in the parlour at the Marine Hotel until
it was time to go to Kingshill.

'Y'had a pleasant journey from London, Soames? Sit down,
man, sit down. We don't stand on ceremony here.'

'Thank you, Sir Robert. I am – a little stiff.'

'Stiff? Are you? I wonder how you think I feel, myself,
when I have been confined to bed?'

'I hope that you are feeling a little better, Sir Robert.'
Pressing his cologne-scented kerchief to his forehead as he
sat down.

'Indeed, indeed, much better, thankee. But stiff, by God.'
Stretching a leg under his nightshirt. 'Now then, what news?'

'I wonder, Sir Robert, before I begin, if I might prevail
upon you to allow me a little refreshment?'

'Eh? Refreshment?' A frown.

'Yes, Sir Robert. I – I have took almost nothing at all since
yesterday afternoon.'

Sir Robert gave a sigh of compliance. He rang a table bell,
impatiently rang it, and his servant attended.

'Mr Soames will like "refreshment", Fender.'

'Yes, sir.' Turning to Soames. 'What may I bring to you,
sir?'

'Eggs. Poached eggs. And toast and butter. And marmalade.
And coffee. Nay – chocolate.'

'. . . and chocolate, very good, sir. Anythink else . . . ?'
Brightly polite.

When the servant had gone out, Sir Robert, his tone still
impatient:

'Well, Soames, well?'

'Their Lordships have instructed me – they have instructed
me to say – '

'Well? What?'

'That they are not quite entirely satisfied.'

'In course they are not. In course they are not. I am not
satisfied myself, when the – '

'I think that what Their Lordships have in their minds, Sir
Robert – '

'Yes?'

'Well, sir . . . that they are not quite satisfied . . . with you.'
A half-apologetic little grimace.

'With
me
?'

'That is so, Sir Robert. It is the matter of the person Aidan
Faulk.'

'Aidan Faulk! What d'you know of Aidan Faulk, Soames?'
'Very little, Sir Robert. I am not party to the affair, except
as an official of the Admiralty, doing my duty as instructed.
And I hope that you will understand that when I convey
Their Lordships' displeasure as to – '

'Displeasure! Is that the word they have employed, exact?'

'I fear that it is, Sir Robert. Exact.'

'Where is the letter? Why have not ye given it into my
hand?' Holding out that hand.

'Ah. Hm. There is no letter. Their Lordships – '

'No
letter
! D'y'mean that Their Lordships have entrusted
you, a lowly official, with the task of coming here to
me
, in
admonition? Is
that
what y'mean?'

'I do not think that I am quite so lowly as all that, Sir
Robert, with respect.' Stung to asperity.

'Oh? You are not?' A black glare.

'No, sir, I am not. I am the Third Secretary to the
Admiralty Board, serving the King. And your opinion nor
estimation of me, personal, ain't the question before us.'

'Us?'

'You, and the Royal Navy, Sir Robert.'

'And d'y'include yourself in "us", Soames?'

'I am caught up in the matter, Sir Robert, not by my own
choice – but by duty.' Stiffly.

'Ah. Duty.' Another black gaze, that Mr Soames found
very disconcerting, in spite of his determination not to allow
himself to be bullied. He raised cologne-scented fabric again
to his nose, and heard:

'You have not completed your duty in whole, Soames. You
have not been specific as to
why
Their Lordships are not
satisfied with me.' With icy precision.

'Very well, Sir Robert. I shall be specific, as instructed.'
He paused, drew breath, and turned away a moment,
frowning in concentration, then faced Sir Robert and recited
from memory.

'Their Lordships require you to produce Aidan Faulk to
them, in person, within the passage of one week. They require
you to accompany their appointed representative in the
matter, Mr Hope. You must also bring with you Lieutenant
Hayter RN, that commands HM
Hawk
cutter, and a full,
thorough and comprehensive account of all activities conducted
in Their Lordships' name, both at sea and ashore,
pertaining to this duty. They are exercised and concerned very
particular about the activity of two additional persons – Mr
Scott, and Mr Birch – recently brought under their notice.'

'Scott? Birch?' Lifting his head uneasily.

'Those were the names given me, Sir Robert, that I was to
bring to your attention.'

'One week?' Shaking his head. 'Do not they apprehend?
I have been ill. Laid low.' Gripping the arms of the chair. 'I
cannot possibly – '

Fender came into the chamber, backing in with a heavy
laden tray on which silver gleamed.

'Take that damned muck out of my bedchamber!' Sir
Robert's deep voice tremulous with ire. 'Remove it to the
library, where Mr Soames may eat it, if he pleases, before he
departs.' He said 'eat it' like a curse.

'Yes, sir.' Obediently backing out again.

'Good morning to you, Soames.' Sir Robert took up a book
and irritably riffled pages, not looking at his guest.

'Good day, Sir Robert.' Soames moved to the door, and
there fired his carefully aimed parting shot:

'You will not forget, will you, Sir Robert? Seven days. If
you please.'

Sir Robert shut the book with a snap, and glared at the wall.
Mr Soames made a brief formal bow, and followed the
servant downstairs.

'What was you thinking of, sir?' Sir Robert Greer, chalkfaced
and thin, but with great intensity of purpose, fixed
Rennie with his piercing black gaze, as if to pin him to a board
like a specimen insect.

'I was thinking, Sir Robert – and feeling, indeed – that by
carrying through this venture with Lieutenant Hayter, I was
at last returned to something like naval duty, sea officer's
duty, instead of involving myself in dismal, wretched, ignoble
intrigue ashore.'

'Ignoble! What d'y'mean by that, sir?'

'I am not a man for such intrigue, Sir Robert, nor spying,
nor going about in disguise in the dead of night. I am a man
for action, like my friend Lieutenant Hayter. Hard, honest
sea action, gun and gun, and seamanship.'

'Yes yes, very honourable, very admirable.' With heavy
sarcasm. 'However, in conducting yourself honourable you
engaged a French ship at sea, when we are not at war, and
failed utterly in your design.'

'With respect, Sir Robert, I did not engage the ship, I was
a prisoner in that ship, and Lieutenant Hayter very
courageously effected my rescue – '

'Pish pish, Rennie. You was there, you was party to the
business. Let us not play with words.' Turning to Lieutenant
Hayter. 'What have you to say for yourself, Mr Hayter? Will
not you speak up in your own behalf? You are not Rennie's
creature, are you?'

'Captain Rennie has spoke for himself, Sir Robert.'
Emphasizing 'Captain'. 'I shall do the same for myself, if you
will permit it.'

'Well?' The black stare.

'I undertook, at my own origination, a course of action that
I believed – '

'You acted wholly outside your instructions!' Vehemently,
over him. 'You flouted them, and threw them aside! And then
failed in the task ye'd set y'self, failed absolutely to apprehend
and bring to us as prisoner the man Aidan Faulk, that has now
escaped, further to aid the insurrectionists in France, who
may probably very soon become our enemies!'

Sir Robert turned towards the window, and stood very still
and quiet a moment. They had assembled in his library at
Kingshill House, and as always in that room a fire burned and
crackled in the grate. Today it lent no warmth to the room.
The sound of flames consuming logs instead was oddly
chilling.

James drew breath, and began again to speak: 'Sir Robert,
if you will hear me out, I think that I may be able to persuade
you that my actions – '

'Do not you grasp what the insurrection in France may
lead to in England, Mr Hayter?' Turning to look right at
James. 'Have you no conception, sir?'

'In England, Sir Robert?'

'Aye, in England. It may lead to the predominance in the
streets of violent, vengeful, ignorant mobs! The triumph of
those mobs over the rule of law, and the mutinous overthrowing
of all that we hold sacred!'

'I – I do not think that very likely, Sir Robert, in truth.
Surely we have had our revolution in England a century and
more since, and long ago settled our pattern of governance –'

'Do not presume to lecture me, Lieutenant! You know
nothing of politics, and unrest, and the wickedness of the
common people.'

'I know seamen, Sir Robert.' With a hint of defiance. 'They
are not wicked men, certainly.'

'Be quiet! You know nothing of life in the lowest streets
and dwellings, the filth and hatred and envy that lie there in
simmering ferment. You can have no understanding of what
may happen should that loathing and viciousness burst forth
and prevail, as it has in France.'

'I do not recognize the England you imagine, Sir Robert.'

'Because you are a junior officer, whose business is to
manage boats upon the sea, where men obey in daily fear of
the lash. Your life ashore has been one of privilege, protected
and cosseted behind your father's gates, and now you live in
a handsome country house with a silken wife and all the
trinkets you desire. You know nothing of the real world!'

'I do not see why you mention my wife, Sir Robert.'
Beginning to be more than defiant, now.

'Nay, James . . .' Rennie, whispering beside him.

'You will do well not to upbraid me, sir. You will do very
well to listen, and learn hard facts.' With icy menace. The fire
crackled behind him, the light of the flames gleaming in the
irons. 'If it was not for men like me, pampered young men
like you would perish.'

'I do not understand you, Sir Robert.' Curtly.

'Nay . . .' Rennie to James, half under his breath. 'Be
careful . . .'

'Do not you? Ahh. Then allow me to inform you. Men like
me are the true guardians of this nation, and the King. We
understand, better than all of you golden fellows – that have
the understanding of mere infants in the dark – how the
world is managed. It is managed by sheer ruthlessness of
intent, and cold, hard, bright understanding of the nature of
mankind. The mass of men are indolent, stupid, feckless and
brutish. Was it not for men like me, they would cut your
throat, Mr Hayter, as soon as they saw your tailored coat, and
the lace of your shirt. Cut your throat, violate your wife, and
burn down your fine pretty house.'

'That is the second time you have spoke of my wife.'
Bristling.

'Because I wish that you will keep her, and honour her,
during a long and contented life. That may not be possible in
England, young man, unless you will allow me to know better
about politics, and insurrection, and the violent, bloody,
brutal consequence if we allow men like Aidan Faulk to
betray us, and assist in our downfall.
Now
d'y'begin to see?'

'I will not argue with you, Sir Robert. However, I cannot
believe that men like Riqueti, nor l'Abbé d'Espagnac, are
vicious brutes. On the contrary, I have met them, and they
are civilized and – '

'Riqueti?'

'Honoré-Gabriel Riqueti, Count Mirabeau, Sir Robert. I
have known these men – '

'Mirabeau? He is a garrulous, pock-marked scoundrel.
The Oath of the Tennis Court, so called, is an abomination.'

'Very well, Sir Robert, that is your view. Even when it is
moderate I may not express my own, it seems.'

'You have allowed Aidan Faulk to escape, Mr Hayter!'
Very cold and hard. 'Your views don't matter to me, nor to
the nation nor the King! You have failed in your duty! That
is what matters!'

BOOK: The Hawk
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