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Authors: Peter Smalley

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'I would not call it finery.' Stiffly.

'Would not you? Then what, I wonder.' Sir Robert was
dressed as always in severe black and white.

'It is a dress coat, Sir Robert, the correct coat for an officer
of my rank.'

'Your rank, yes. Then I must not call it finery, I expect.

That would be to make little of a great institution, a noble
service.'

Rennie said nothing to that. He wished Sir Robert to come
to the point of their meeting, so that he could respond. And
now he noticed one small addition to Sir Robert's severe
attire. On the little finger of his left hand he wore today a
silver ring with a distinctive red stone.

'You had thought, I am in no doubt, that this morning I
meant to iterate my accusation of treason against your name.
Yes?'

'Just so, Sir Robert, I had.' Again stiffly.

'Following on our brief conversation of yesterday, you had
thought it. Yes?'

Rennie waited, his back straight, his hat under his arm,
very correct. Let the fellow do his worst.

'Yes?' Sir Robert regarded him with his black stare.

'I am at your disposal, sir.'

'Indeed. Indeed you are.'

Rennie bit his tongue and resolved that he would not suffer
this a minute more. If Sir Robert did not come to his point
then he would bow, put on his hat and stride from the room,
no matter the consequence. He would not bear any more of
this damned nonsense.

'However – you are wrong in your assumption.'

'Wrong, Sir Robert? I do not understand you.'

'I have decided to allow the matter of treason to recede in
my mind. To fade, so to say, into the shadows at the back of
my attention. Aye. There it shall rest – for the moment.'

'I do not – '

'On one condition.' The deep, vibrant voice not raised. Only
a finger raised, in emphasis. 'One condition, Captain Rennie.'

'What is it?'

'It is very simple. Just tell me where it is.'

'Where – it is?'

'Now then, Captain Rennie. Pray do not mimic ignorance.
Pray do not pretend lack of acuity. You know what I mean
very well. You and Lieutenant Hayter between you have
concealed it somewhere safe.
Where is it
?'

'If you mean the great treasure lost at sea by Rashid Bey of
Rabhet, then I fear I must disappoint you. It is – lost.'

'You persist in this deception?'

'There is no deception, Sir Robert. The great riches of
Rabhet were lost when Rashid Bey set sail from that place in
a slow, sagging-off xebec, and was attacked by corsairs. A
storm blew up, and the corsairs escaped.'

'I see, very well, you do persist. That is very foolish in you.'

Shaking his head.

'The fact that he was enjoined to bring his treasure to
England, enjoined by you, Sir Robert, led directly to its loss.
Perhaps you will like to consider that.'

'Be silent, sir. If you cannot tell the truth it will be better
that you do not say anything.'

Rennie had stood all he could, or would. He sniffed in a
furious breath, and jammed on his hat.

'If you will not
listen
to the truth, Sir Robert, I see no profit
in this interview – for neither party. Good morning.' He
made to leave, but Sir Robert stood in his path.

'You refuse absolutely to tell me where you and Hayter
have hid the gold?'

'Christ's blood, will y'not comprehend! It ain't hid, it is
lost! Lost irretrievable and for ever!'

'Very well, then I must revive the charge of treason. I shall
place you under arrest, and you will be confined.'

'Is there a detachment of marines on duty in this house, Sir
Robert?'

'There are no marines here.'

'Or soldiers, perhaps? No? Then how d'ye propose to
arrest me, hey? Stand aside now, will you?'

'You threaten
me
with violence, Rennie?'

'On the contrary, you have threatened me. A man that
offers threats of molestation and violence to a serving officer
had damned well better be prepared to follow such threats
with action – else be bested. Stand aside!' And he put his hand
on the hilt of his sword.

'You are a very great fool, Rennie, if you think I will allow
myself to be bested by you. In the long run you will hang for
what you have done today.' The voice still calm, but the black
eyes glinting with menace.

'I have done nothing, except defend my honour!' He pushed
past Sir Robert to the door of the library, and a moment after
banged outside and strode vigorously away from the house
towards the gate, his buckled shoes kicking up little sprays of
gravel. His demeanour, as he walked through the gate and
down into Borrow Walk, was defiant, and vigorous, and angry
– but the inner man was hollow with dread.

'In Christ's name, what have I done?' Muttered to himself.
'Good morning to you!' To the innkeeper as he passed the
Plough, and a confident wave. By the time he had come to the
path across the fields to his house he was shivering, as if the
air was frozen around him, as if the high, bird-flecked
Anglian sky above was dark with foreboding.

Months ago, many months, on their return from a
commission at Rabhet in HM
Expedient
frigate, Sir Robert
had briefly effected Rennie's arrest and confinement on a
charge of treasonable conduct, arising from the failure of that
commission, and the loss of great treasure belonging to the
regent of Rabhet, Rashid Bey, at sea. On advice from the
Admiralty, Sir Robert had been obliged to release Rennie.
Their Lordships, having studied Rennie's journals, logs and
other documents, had found no fault with anything Rennie
had done. Lieutenant Bradshaw, commander of the cutter
Curlew
, had been lost with his vessel that same commission,
and thus could not be held to account at a court martial.
Their Lordships, in possession of all the facts, were minded
to see Captain Rennie walk free. He was a senior post captain
in good standing, a brave sea officer who had done his best
against overwhelming odds – one frigate against fleets of
corsair ships – and had brought his ship safe home to
England. He and Lieutenant Hayter both. There was
nothing against either of their names.

The mission – to secure Rabhet as a Mediterranean base
for the Royal Navy, as an aid to the protection of trade with
the Levant in the event of future conflict – Their Lordships
had always thought was a supremely optimistic undertaking,
underpinned by political intrigue, and fraught with local
difficulty. Rabhet, far from Gibraltar, on the eastern coast
of Tunisia, could never adequately be supported. Their
Lordships had not been at all surprised that the commission
had failed; they had declined to provide more than two
ships in what had at first been declared to be a simple convoy
duty. And so Sir Robert had been obliged to accede to their
wish for Rennie's release – but he had not forgotten. Nor
had he ever accepted the loss of the treasure, which he
believed to have been brought to England in
Expedient
, and
concealed.

'And now,' muttered Rennie to himself, 'he will have his
revenge.' He was guilty of nothing in the eyes of the
Admiralty, and indeed their political masters in Parliament.
Sir Robert had been a lone voice in this, and it was he who
had failed – he and his people in the Secret Service Fund.
Honourable and brave sea officers could not be blamed,
when they had fought several fierce sea actions, been
severely mauled, &c. They could not and would not be
blamed. All this went through Rennie's head as he traversed
the wide field, but none of it reassured him. Sir Robert was
a man of great power and influence – behind. Rennie knew
that he intrigued at the deepest levels of administration; it
was rumoured that he had the ear of the King. Their
Lordships at the Admiralty did not absolutely have to obey
him, in course, but neither could they ignore him when he
came to them with particular requests. All of Rennie's three
commissions in
Expedient
had been given to him through
Sir Robert's influence. To have defied Sir Robert at
Middingham, indeed to have threatened him with violence,
was surely:

'The greatest folly of my career . . .' Aloud, as he came in
sight of his drive. 'Fatal folly, William Rennie, y'damned
wretched blockhead.'

Lieutenant Hayter accepted his commission at the Admiralty,
where he was interviewed not by the First, Second, or Third
Secretary, nor by any of the Lords Commissioners, but by
Captain Apley Marles. Captain Marles was a grey-haired,
middle-aged officer who had lost the lower part of his left leg
at Chesapeake, had once held a seat in Parliament, and was
now employed by Their Lordships in a capacity James did not
wholly understand.

'I have sometime given advice at the Admiralty Court, you
know, but in usual I am myself advised, which advice – so to
say – I then communicate.' Standing at the table in a small
side downstair office, a single high window behind him,
admitting shadowy light.

'I see.' James, politely. He did not see.

'You will be attached official to Admiral Hollister and the
Channel Fleet.'

'I have met the admiral.'

'Before you had got your wrote-out commission? Before
you came here?' Surprised.

'It was merely in passing, sir.' Disconcerted. 'Probably he
will not remember me.'

'In passing – ah. Well, you will be attached to him, but you
will be just another cutter, among many such small vessels –
schooners, brigs, sloops, and the like. In little, you will not be
much noticed, neither as an attached cutter, nor as an absent
one.'

'Absent, sir?'

'Aye. You will not be much with the fleet. Not at all, in
fact.'

'Then – who must I obey . . . ?'

'You will be given your sailing instructions at Portsmouth.'

'I see. – May I ask, what will be my duties?'

'We will meet again, Mr Hayter, at Portsmouth. Ye'll be
given your sailing instructions, and my own particular advice,
at a future date. Soon.'

'Thank you, sir. – Erm, may I ask . . . ?'

'Yes?' Leaning on his blackthorn stick, his weight on his
good leg, easing the pressure on the shortened limb and peg.

'May I ask . . . why have I been so favoured?'

'Favoured, Lieutenant?' Grey eyes, a deeply lined face.
Were those lines a result of the pain of his injury, or merely
of ageing? James could not guess.

'You may probably have heard, sir, that I have been
accused – myself and Captain Rennie, that was my commanding
officer our last three commissions – that we have
been accused of – '

'Of treason?' Interrupting, and nodding. 'Accused by Sir
Robert Greer? Yes, yes, that intelligence has reached me, in
course. You was both exonerated.'

'Indeed, sir. However, I never thought that Sir Robert
would desist. Nor had I thought that the matter would be
quite so readily forgot by Their Lordships, neither – '

'It ain't forgot, Mr Hayter.'

'Oh.'

'May I tell you something?' Quietly. 'Sit down, will you, a
moment?'

James did sit down.

'Sir Charles is a man not without influence, in certain
quarters.'

'My father . . . ?'

'Aye, your father. That influence has been sufficient to
thwart any further attempt by Sir Robert to – to hamper you.'

'D'y'mean that my father has got me this commission? But
he knew nothing of my debts . . .' And now he broke off, not
wishing to pursue the vexed question of coal tar paint, and the
supposed compensatory reward to him of this commission by
Their Lordships.

'Sir Robert was indeed minded to resume and continue his
pursuit of you, but – this must be entirely in confidence, you
apprehend me? Your father did not wish you to know of it.'

'Oh. Ah.'

'He was able to deflect Sir Robert's intentions successfully,
in your case.' James half-expected him, now, to introduce the
matter of the paint, and his debts – but he did not. 'Aye, in
your case, your father's influence was more than sufficient,
and the thing is now settled.'

'When you say "in my case", sir – do you mean: not in
Captain Rennie's case?'

'My dealings, you know, are not with Captain Rennie.
They are with you, Mr Hayter. I am able to tell you only what
bears direct on your new commission.'

'Very good, sir. However, Captain Rennie – '

'Captain Rennie must proceed upon his own course.' Over
him, firmly. 'He ain't attached to anything of this. Hm?'

'I do see that, sir. However, I am concerned for his welfare,
as you may imagine.' He did not say, I am greatly in his debt.

'As are Their Lordships, and the navy. That is why halfpay
is accorded to all sea officers on the beach. Captain
Rennie, I believe, lives quite comfortable at Norfolk.'

'He does, sir.'

'Exactly so. Your own duties require your full attention at
Portsmouth.
Hawk
must be manned, and provisioned, and
her guns and stores took in. I should not delay a single
moment, Mr Hayter, if I was you. You have your papers safe
folded in your coat?'

'Aye, sir.' Rising.

'Good luck to you, Lieutenant.' Captain Marles shook his
hand. 'Godspeed!'

'Starboard your helm!'

Hawk
heeled to larboard, the wind on her quarter filling
her great fore and aft mainsail so that it bellied taut. The sea
swirled, rode hissing along her wales, and boiled aft. Shrouds
creaked, halyards, blocks, as she came to her new heading,
and:

'Hold her so!' The helmsman on the tiller eased his weight
against the long curve, and balanced himself, his feet firm on
the decking.

'Starboard battery . . . fire!'

BOOM BOOM BOOM-BOOM BOOM

Five eighteen-pounder carronades belched flame and
smoke, and the timbers shuddered. Smoke and powder grit
fumed along the deck. Away to starboard explosions of spray
as roundshot struck into the swell, missing the floating target
of casks bound together on a makeshift raft. Smoke drifted
and sank shadowy over the sea as
Hawk
rushed on.

BOOK: The Hawk
2.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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