The Moonless Night (21 page)

“That cannot be necessary. Sir Henry said it is in good repair.”

“Sanford may have been working on it,” David mentioned, to show he was as wide awake as anyone, and he lifted the lid.

Mr. Benson looked at the chain, his eyes widening in surprise. He dashed to the chest and lifted the end of the chain up.

“Looks all right,” David said. “Shall we haul her out and see he hasn’t lopped six feet off it, to make it useless?”

“An excellent idea,” Benson agreed, and they both began pulling it out.

“The way you tell is to feed it around the edge of the room,” David told him. “The chain ought to go around twice exactly. That’s how we measure it”

They did this, and soon determined that the chain was of the proper length and in good repair. David was hard put to account for Benson’s condition. The chain was safe and sound, but still he was upset about something. It was easily evident by his jerky movements, his lack of attention, by the angry tinge of his face.

“What do you think we should do now?” David asked, perplexed. He knew full well his mentor was keeping something from him.

“It’s time we got busy looking for that message Sanford received last night,” Benson said, his face rigid with anger.

“Left it a bit late,” David pointed out. “If you couldn’t find it last night, I don’t suppose you’re likely to do it today. Had hours to get rid of it. Might have taken it to Sinclair’s with him for that matter. Probably did.”

“That’s a possibility,” Benson said, looking interested.

“Still, we’ll have a good look about here while he’s gone.”

The first look was in Lord Sanford’s own room, while his valet was belowstairs polishing his master’s boots. The door was locked, which filled them with hope, but when he got the housekeeper’s key and went in, he found nothing of the message. He was diverted by many other splendors—silver-backed brushes and crested notepaper were examined for clues, but without success. The valet’s room was similarly searched, after which Benson, whose intelligence was cast into serious doubt, insisted on rummaging through the entire house. From attics to cellars they searched.

That’s how they  spent their morning. David was wishing he’d gone out on the
Seadog
, instead. A fool could see he had the message with him, anyway. She looked a proper fancy craft, and one he was eager to get his hands on quite apart from hidden messages. A good sailing breeze in the air today, too. He plodded obediently on with the task, however, through trunks and chests, all of which had recently been searched for gold, with a similar result. Nothing but moths and dust.

By the time lunch was over, he had had more than enough of routing uselessly through old lumber, and hit on the capital notion of driving the carriage over to Sinclair’s to pick up his father and Sanford, to save Sinclair the bother of driving them home. Mr. Benson made not an effort to detain him, but had his own curricle called out the minute he left and nipped into Plymouth.

“I wonder where he is going,” Marie said to her aunt, just a little offended that Mr. Benson had not told her, nor invited her to accompany him.

“To find another family to stay with I hope,” Biddy said firmly. “I cannot think why Henry lets him stay on, now that he knows the fellow is only out for your fortune. He as well as agreed to be rid of him three days ago, but something changed his mind.”

The something, so unexplainable to Biddy, was crystal clear to the younger lady. The Admiralty had asked her father to let him stay, and of course he would do as they asked. “If he’s going to Plymouth, he might have mentioned it to us. I need some supplies. My basilicum is running low, though the pharmacist puts too much pine resin in his. I prefer to make my own, but with all the rash of wounds here of late I need a quick supply. And I wanted to order extra cream and eggs too for the ball. It’s a nice day, Marie. Shall we go in? David has taken the closed carriage, but the gig is free. I wouldn’t mind the open carriage on a fine day like this.”

A trip to Plymouth was seldom spurned by Marie at any time, and with the expectation that Mr. Benson would be on the quay hanging out for information, she agreed immediately. To get to Plymouth, it was not necessary but possible to pass the cottage hired for Madame Monet, if one were willing to take a little jog north, only a mile out of the way. It had become the preferred route of all the Boltwoods of late. What was seen on this trip made all the former futile lookings well worth while. Madame was there at the doorway admitting a caller, and the caller was none other than Mr. Benson.

“There’s a good pair then,” Biddy said, looking as hard as she could in past the privet hedge.

The quay was as busy as ever, the commoners and hedgebirds in as great abundance. There was the usual number of scarlet and blue tunics. Even the tunics were more observant of a young lady accompanied by only the requisite chaperone than of one guarded by a clutch of males, but all this, which would have pleased Marie a week ago, was hardly noticed. A very handsome officer tried for two minutes to catch her eye, without being even noticed. She did no more than look once out to Billy Ruffian, and as soon as Biddy began berating the jostling her arms received, the niece turned to go.

What was Mr. Benson doing at Madame Monet’s? It must of course be in the line of unpleasant duty that he went, but Rawlins was already pursuing that particular lead, and naturally Rawlins would pass on to the government agent what he discovered. The trip was not so pleasant an outing as Marie had hoped for. When she returned to Bolt Hall, there was nothing to do. The men were still not back from Sinclair’s. It was an interminable, dull, stupid day.

They did not return, in fact, till nearly dinner time. David entered smiling to tell her, “Sanford took us out for a spin on his
Seadog
. By God, she’s a lovely craft, Marie. You should have been there. Could outdistance the
Fury
easily. We must convince him to bring her back here. What a boon she’d be to our fleet.”

“Benson went to see Madame Monet,” she told him.

“Did he, by Jove? So that’s where he was off to, and not breathing a word of it to me. He’s too close by half. Sanford has got the cleverest setup on his yacht. Luxurious as any saloon I’ve ever been in. Even a fireplace in it, sort of a blue-looking marble or something. Imagine! She sleeps a dozen.”

“I don’t see why he should have gone there. Rawlins is already making up to her to find out what she knows.”

“No harm for Ev to get to know her as well. I think it was lapis something or other, the fireplace. Very valuable. Sanford was saying he means to sail her to Wight after Boney is sent away, and asked me to go along with him. Now that was downright civil of him, considering that I’ve hardly said more than good day to him since he got here.”

“It seems to me everyone is making a great deal too much of Madame Monet. I can’t think she has anything to do with the affair at all. She’s only here to find a husband.”

“Best not to take any chances. He let me crew on the main sail, and says I have a good knack for it. I’ve never handled such a big ship before. Jove, but I wish Papa would set up a rig like that.”

There was clearly no consolation to be gained from David, and in a snit Marie said, “You are getting on mighty close terms with Cicero!”

“Eh? Oh, you’re talking about the brass buttons. All a hum. It was a uniform I saw, and not a lounging jacket. That’s what he calls it, a lounging jacket. He is giving me a pattern for it. All the crack, but I think I’ll have mine made up in dark green. Sanford is sorry he didn’t get green. Sanford didn’t get here till after three the night he arrived, and it was at one I heard the men talking below my window, so it must have been an officer, all right. Sanford is only here to try to stop anyone from freeing Boney, same as we are doing ourselves. Said so. He’s really not so toplofty once you get to know him a little. I think we ought to join forces with him. The more heads we can get together, the better. Only he don’t like Benson much, and didn’t think it such a hot idea for us to include him. Clever of him to get to work on Monet. He beat us all out in figuring how to get around her. Took Rawlins a week to tumble to it. Sanford saw right off the bat the likes of her was to be cozened by a spot of romance. He says she... Oh, but I wasn’t supposed to mention that.”

“What?” she demanded sharply.

“Nothing to the point. It’s only about her lovemaking. We’re inviting her to the ball. Sanford thinks it’s a good idea. I may have a go at her myself.”

“We are not inviting that hussy to Bolt Hall!” she shouted, so incensed that she was sidetracked from discovering Madame’s secrets in the arts of dalliance.

“Sanford’s already done it, and she’s accepted, too.”

“Without asking me and Biddy if he might!”

“He told Papa.”

“
Told
him!”

“Asked him, I mean.”

The ball, so looked forward to as a social triumph by Marie,  withered to dust before her eyes. “I suppose she will open the ball, too!” she demanded.

“No, how should she? She has no social standing here. It will be Sanford who opens it, be stuck to stand up with you, very likely. Only fitting. Well, I must wash up for dinner. Gad, but I’m starved. There is nothing like a good sail to whet the appetite. Sanford says before he leaves we’ll go out for a whole day, and he’s got a chef aboard, and a whole galley that can serve a hot meal, and even a bit of a wine cellar, with champagne.”

Marie’s spirits sank to see how David’s reason had been perverted by a schooner larger than
Fury
, and a wine cellar. But it was not only Sanford’s yacht that had won him. Benson was not confiding in him as he ought. To be sitting up at the Point reading the signal flags, that often didn’t change once in three or four hours, was no fitting work for a spy. Benson had bungled the retrieving of the message the night before, while Sanford, wide awake, had got it and turned it over to the proper authorities. Not an inch of headway had Benson made in finding the all-important gold. David was toying with the idea of telling Sanford about the gold, and seeing what he suggested. Of course, he must let Benson know what they found out, but really Benson was not at all as wide-awake as a spy ought to be.

He asked Benson, when he returned just before dinner, “Anything turn up today?”

Benson said vaguely that he had heard some rumors at the quay about some aborted attempt to save Boney, but in the end it had been only the local moonling, with his lobster boat and a rope three yards long, and it was just a joke. Not a word about his having visited Madame Monet! No confidences shared. Benson had wasted his afternoon discussing Jed Sykes, the town’s moonling, who had been bragging from Day One that he meant to rescue Boney, as he was his half brother. He was so disgusted he didn’t tell Benson about Sanford turning the message over to the authorities, though he did wonder when he had done it, as he hadn’t left Bolt Hall except to go to Sinclair’s place. Must have mailed it off to London, he supposed.

Chapter 14

Immediately dinner was over David began looking from Benson to Sanford, wondering which to approach with regard to looking for gold. “I have to run over and see Mr. Hazy,” Sanford said. “I am anxious to hear what he thinks of public reaction to Capell Lofft’s letter. The
Chronicle
announces it has had more than a hundred letters supporting it.”

“That’s not many out of the whole population,” Sir Henry pointed out. “I had three hundred petition signers for his execution.”

“True, but then Capell Lofft did not petition—his supporters are voluntary,” Sanford parried.

Almost any other visit mentioned would have elicited an offer from David to accompany him, but the Hazy residence was off limits to him. Papa had let Marie go, but a girl on the catch for a title could not be expected to let mere principles stand in her way. He turned his attention to Benson instead. Ev was wearing a nice cagey expression on his face. Obviously he had some interesting plans.

“What are you doing, Ev?” he asked.

“I, too, must go out. I am meeting with Rawlins tonight.”

“I'll run along with you,” David offered at once.

“I’m afraid not tonight, David. He will be more communicative if I go alone. He is a little military in that respect— will only tell me if I am alone. I must find out if he had any luck in questioning Madame Monet, and inform him of that business about the message Sanford intercepted.”

David eyed him askance. To have waited nearly twenty-four hours to tell Rawlins about the message, and to have done so little to find it, was already evidence of mediocrity. To omit mentioning that he had been to Madame Monet himself showed a lack of confidence. Benson was playing a close hand, and with his eyes narrowing suspiciously, David replied, “Very well, I’ll keep an eye on things here while you’re gone.”

“I would appreciate that.”

Benson was gone, and David Boltwood, spy-in-training, foresaw an evening doing nothing more exciting than listening to Biddy and Marie natter on about prawns in wax baskets and flowers and punch. It was infamous. He sat nibbling his thumb, turning over in his mind paying a call on Madame Monet. All the competition was safely accounted for. Sanford with Hazy, Benson and Rawlins together at the naval station. He wasn’t likely to find such an opportunity again. He went upstairs to make a fresh toilette, lavishly sprinkling himself with Steek's lavender water, brushing his brown hair down over his forehead and before going out the door, giving his boots a final polish with the edge of a bed cover. He walked down the stairs to say good night to the ladies, but found Marie alone, moping in front of the cold grate.

“Where’s Biddy?” he asked.

“Gone to bed. She didn’t sleep well last night because of having to tend to Sanford’s groom. Where are you going, David? Ugh—what is that awful smell?”

“Awful? It’s my new scent. All the chaps are using it. I’m going out.”

“Yes, I can smell that, but where are you going to?”

He was reluctant to confess his destination, but she had soon weaseled it out of him. “You’re going to make up to her!” she charged at once, knowing her brother as only a sister can.