The Letter of Marque (10 page)

Jack knew the Spartan very well indeed, having chased her for two days and two nights through fair weather and foul, very foul. He had the highest opinion of her captain as a seaman, yet even so he was astonished to learn that he had taken no less than five prizes this voyage - two Port Royal sugar ships whose slowness had separated them from their convoy in the night, and three other West Indiamen with even more valuable cargoes of indigo, coffee, logwood, ebony, old fustic and hides that, being fast sailers, had chanced it on their own - and still more astonished to learn that they had all five been moored in the harbour of Horta, on Fayal, while their captains, the wives of those that sailed in married comfort, and the merchants of their factors had been packed off to France in the schooner, there to make what arrangements they could to ransom themselves, their ships and their cargoes.

'Why in Heaven's name did he not make for home as fast as ever he could pelt, with such a prodigious haul?' asked Jack. 'I have never heard of a private ship doing so amazing well in one short cruise: nor in a long one, neither.'

The answer was obvious enough, but nobody found it out until that evening. The schooner's captain gave nothing away, and his small crew was incapable of doing so, being totally ignorant of the general design; while Jack's and Pullings' minds were too much occupied with the former prisoners, the present prisoners and the refitting of the prize.

The American captain, the merchants and their wives had come aboard at once, and ordinarily, out of common decency, Jack would have invited them to dinner - the officers' hour was fast approaching. But at present he had no cabin in which to feed them; nor had he anything that he could put on the table if a cabin had existed.

'Mr Dupont, sir,' he said to the American captain, who was brought aft in reasonable privacy to show the Merlin's papers, 'you could oblige me extremely, were you so inclined.'

'I should be happy to do anything in my power, sir,' replied Dupont, looking doubtfully at the figure before him: privateer captains had a solid reputation for brutal rapacity, and Jack Aubrey, tall, gaunt, unwashed, with yellow bristles glinting on his unshaved face, his bloody bandage bloodier still from recent activity and his blood-stiffened hair still hanging about him like a horribly dyed female wig - a figure from which the merchants' wives had recoiled with silent horror, though accustomed to the sea. 'Anything within my trifling means.'

'The fact of the matter is, we are short of provisions. For the ship's sake and for my own I should be distressed if I were obliged to offer you and these ladies a dinner consisting of salt beef, dried peas, and beer so small as to be scarcely drinkable.'

'Command me, sir, I beg,' cried Dupont, who had foreseen something more disagreeable by far. 'My stores are not inconsiderable, though the tea is almost gone; and though my cook is black he is not without skill - I bought him from a man who fairly worshipped his belly."

This was an erroneous form of worship, sure, but after such a blow and after so many days with little more than ship's bread, the captain and the officers of the Surprise felt that there might be something in it. Even their guests were agreeably surprised, for although the black man had always done them well, he now burst out with an extraordinary profusion: his vol-au-vent made the ladies stretch their eyes, and his apple tart was worthy of Fladong's.

The Surprises attributed this to his happiness and gratitude, for as soon as he came across, Killick, who as captain's steward was naturally in charge of these things, took him by the arm and called out slowly into his perhaps uncomprehending ear, 'You Free Man Now. Huzzay,' making the gesture of one released from his manacles, and thus signifying that the moment the black set foot on a British ship he was no longer a slave. 'You' - touching his breast - 'Free Man.'

'Farm me, sir,' said the black, 'my name is Smith.' But he spoke so gently for fear of giving offence, that, in the midst of the cheerful hullaballoo, his words had no influence whatsoever upon public opinion.

The feast took place in the gunroom, with Jack Aubrey, now smoothed and presentable, at one end of the long table and Pullings at the other; and when it was over at last Stephen and the man who had sat on his right walked on the leeward side of the quarterdeck, smoking little paper cigars in the Spanish manner. They conversed in Spanish too, for his companion, Jaime Guzman, was a Spaniard, originally from Avila in Old Castile, a partner in the Cadiz firm that had bought the greater part of the old fustic in the captured William and Mary: he could speak a certain amount of commercial English, but he had not been on speaking-terms with any of his fellow-captives for a great while. He was naturally a communicative man, yet for weeks and weeks he had been deprived of the power of speech, and now he talked with an almost alarming volubility.

'Those women, those odious, odious women,' he said, smoke issuing from his mouth and nose, 'would never allow me this indulgence even on the outward voyage. Voluptuous civets. But quite apart from that I found them all profoundly disagreeable. At one time I thought of helping them to improve; but then I reflected that whoever washes an ass's head loses both his time and soap. None of those people would ever have been received in Avila: your godfather's grandmother would never have consented to receive them.' An account of the Avila of Guzman's youth led to observations on the town of Almaden, where Guzman's brother supervised the business side of the quicksilver mines, and upon Cadiz, where Guzman now had his being, a sadly depraved and abandoned city. 'Like yourself, don Esteban,' he said, 'I am an old and mellow Christian, and I am very fond of ham; but there is as who should say no ham to be had in Cadiz. And why is this? It is because under the pretence of being new Christians the people are all half-Moors or half-Jews. There is no dealing with them, as my poor brother finds. They are shockingly dishonest, two-faced, grasping, and, like most Andalusians, inhumanly eager for the gain.'

'He who wishes to grow rich in a year, will be hanged in six months,' observed Stephen.

'They cannot be hanged too early nor too often,' said Guzman. 'Take the case of my poor brother, now. Quicksilver has to be sent to the New World, of course: they cannot extract gold without it. When England and Spain were at war, it was sent by frigates; but time and again they were taken, through the treachery of the wicked clerks of Cadiz, who told the Jews of Gibraltar the time of sailing and even the number of bags - for you must know, don Esteban, that quicksilver is packed in sheepskin bags of half a hundredweight apiece. Now that the war has changed, no frigates can be spared, still less ships of the line, so having waited for years my poor brother, pressed and harassed on all sides, has chartered the most powerful and trustworthy privateer on the coast, a ship called the Azul, much the same size as this, to carry a hundred and fifty tons to Cartagena. A hundred and fifty tons, don Esteban, six thousand bags! Can you imagine six thousand bags of quicksilver?' They took several turns, imagining six thousand bags, and Guzman went on, 'But I am afraid the same wickedness has been at play. The Spartan knows very well that the Azul was to sail eight days ago and to touch at the Azores. That is why she is waiting. Perhaps she has taken her already. But the great point is this - and I know it because the young officers in the Spartan were very far from being as discreet as Mr Dupont - at the end of the month the American frigate Constitution and a sloop will pass by the Azores, coming from the south: the Spartan and her fleet of prizes will join her and sail back to the States in safety.'

Jack Aubrey had the rare virtue of listening to an account without interrupting, and on this occasion he even waited for the afterword: 'I tell you all this, Jack, as I received it. I have reasons for believing that Guzman's words about the Gibraltar Jews are mistaken - he longs for the return of the Holy Office with all its ardent zeal - but I think it by no means improbable that this Franco-American concern should know about the present shipping of quicksilver. And it seems to me that Guzman's good faith can hardly be questioned. What do you think of his observations about the Constitution?.'

'If Mr Hull still has her, she is likely to be as near her day as is humanly possible; in their navy he has the reputation of being as regular as Old Time. We could not look at her, of course: she carries forty-four twenty-four-pounders - fires a broadside of 768 pounds - and has scantlings like a ship of the line. They call her Old Ironsides. Nevertheless ..." His voice trailed away, and his mind's eye beheld a chart of the Atlantic between thirty-five and fifty degrees north, with the Azores in the middle. The Spartan would be cruising between St Michael's and St Mary, to windward, in order to have the weather-gage of the Azul when she appeared; and at this time of the year windward meant west or something north of west.

The recent blow might well have made the Azul lie to, though it might possibly have set her forward; on the other hand it would certainly have held the Constitution back, an essential factor in the plan that was taking shape in his mind - the plan of leading the Spartan to believe that the Surprise was the Azul at least long enough for them to come to grips. The dates, the recent weather, the probable speed of an efficient though unhurried Azul, and the Surprise's actual position presented themselves in due order; and it appeared to him that if the breeze stayed fair and if the ship could log a hundred and twenty-five miles a day, there was a possibility of getting there in time. Not a very strong possibility, but one at least worth a great deal of effort.

'If the breeze stayed fair.' The barometer had been rising and falling most erratically and there was no forecast to be made: the only thing to do was to carry on without one, and straight away.

Once more Stephen heard the words 'there is not a moment to be lost', and then Jack ran up on deck to tell Pullings to set all hands to work on the refitting of the Merlin with the utmost speed. Returning, he said 'Stephen, would you be so kind as to interpret while I ask the gentleman about the Azul?'

From his connections and his calling, Guzman knew much more about ships than the ordinary landsman and his statement that the Azul had three masts, that she was barque-rigged and that she gauged about five hundred tons was perfectly convincing. So was his description of her as being painted a beautiful blue, with her black port-lids looking quite like those of a man-of-war; but these words made Jack Aubrey very pensive. Rigging the Surprise barque-fashion presented no difficulty, since it meant little more than unshipping her crossjack and mizentopsail yards, so that she carried only fore-and-aft sails on that mast; but this had been intended as a trial cruise, no more, and she carried little in the way of stores. Black portlids were very well, since she had them already, never having deviated from the Nelson chequer, but the blue sides - that was another matter.

'Pass the word for Mr Bentley,' he called: and when the carpenter appeared, 'Mr Bentley, what do we possess in the way of blue paint?'

'Blue paint, sir? We have just enough to give the blue cutter a couple of coats, spread thin, precious thin.'

Jack thought for a moment and said to Stephen 'Pray ask whether the blue is light or dark.' And when it appeared that the Azul was pale, as pale as the early morning sky, he turned to the carpenter to find how they stood in the matter of plain white. The answer was almost equally discouraging: a small hundredweight, with a shove.

'Well, well,' said Jack. 'We must do what we can. Tell me, Mr Bentley, how does the schooner come along?"

'Oh sir,' said the carpenter, brightening at once, 'our second-best spare foretopmast, with a butt coaked on to the heel and a little trimming at the partners, has made her as pretty a mainmast as you could wish. Bosun is setting up the shrouds this minute, and as soon as they are rattled down we can send up a mighty elegant topmast.'

'You have been uncommon busy, Mr Bentley, you and your crew.'

'Busy, sir? Bees ain't in it.'

Bees were not in it the next day either, for in the course of his nightly pacing of the deck Jack had hit upon a solution to the problem of changing the Surprise's outward appearance. Several coats of blue, laid on thick, would be needed to cover the broad black bands above and below the white belt with the black portlids in it, and all the paint they possessed would not give more than a single coat to half one side: one coat would do on the white; it would be useless on the black. Yet paint would lie on canvas. Paint lay admirably well on white canvas; and on white canvas a willing mind could make a very little light blue go a very long way.

As soon as the idlers were called in the first morning light he had a long conference with the sailmaker, finding out just what was thinnest, whitest and most easily spared in the sailroom. Some good number 8 had to be sacrificed, but most of what they chose was poor thin stuff fit only for repairing topgallants or royals; for the Surprise was sold with all her equipment, and these sails had been sun-bleached and worn threadbare in the tropical Pacific during her last commission.

When the decks were dry - for nothing but imminent action could suspend the cleaning of the almost spotless ship - the canvas was spread, measured, remeasured, tried against the topsides, marked with great precision, tried again and eventually cut out and painted. The work was done on the quarterdeck, a very carefully shrouded quarterdeck. With the present sea running and the present speed required there was no question of hanging stages over the side, pinning the cloth and painting it there: the forecastle was too confined, and the waist, with its booms and the boats upon them had too little free run, while the gangways were in perpetual use, for the blessed north-north-easter had backed surprisingly in the course of the night - the weather was most unsettled - and although it was still a fine topgallant gale, it was now only one point free, so that continual attention to brace and bowline was called for, and very careful steering, to get the best out of her.