The Patriot's Fate (22 page)

Banks said nothing for a moment. To have been rescued at sea in such conditions would usually bring forth a very different reaction. It was quite clear the man was either mad or considered himself highly important, and in either case he was not used to being treated with anything other than fawning respect.

“It would have been impossible to secure your boat, sir,” the captain said finally. “But I trust that you and your passengers are safe, and would prefer to be aboard this ship than left in the ocean?”

“Damn your impertinence, sir; I have every right to expect assistance from one of his Britannic Majesty’s ships. It is why you let my possessions go that riles me.”

“I regret no more could be done in the circumstances, but at least your family are safe, as well as their servants.”

“Servants? They are naught but a couple of fishermen from the village and can go to hell for all I care: nothing more than pigs, the both of them. If they knew more about their duties and treated their betters with a deal more respect we wouldn’t be in this mess.” His gaze had wandered from Banks and was roving about the cabin. “As if the damned rebels aren’t bad enough, I have to put up with a couple of palaverers in my own employ.”

The ship’s motion was increasing. Banks knew his place was on deck, rather than speaking with an ungrateful old man, and stood up from his chair.

“Well, I am glad to have been of service, and look forward to escorting you back to dry land in due course.”

“Dry land? I wish to go to Galway, sir. There we have friends and family who will aid us. You will take us now, and as fast as you are able.”

Banks stopped on his way to the door and gave one short sharp laugh. “I regret, that will not be possible.”

The man regarded him over the brim of his cup. “I do not wish to pull rank on you, sir, but I happen to be a magistrate; I also have some very influential friends who would be more than happy to ruin the career of a simple Navy captain. Now put this boat about and we will make no more of it.”

“I repeat, that will not be possible; you will excuse me, I am needed on deck.”

The man spilt his drink as he stood, and actually took a step towards Banks. “You, sir, are an imbecile. You will do as I ask without delay.”

Banks spun round, his face suddenly revealing the anger that had been growing steadily. “I will not, and if you continue to make unreasonable requests I shall have little choice but to strike you below. Now forgive me, sir, while I attend to the business of my ship.”

* * *

In the galley they were having more luck. The two fishermen were being entertained by Barrow, Rose and Parfrey, who had sought them out through curiosity rather than any direct order. The men, who had been given dry clothes by the purser, had already eaten one full plate of lobscouse each, and were just starting on their second helping of plum duff. The junior officers accepted their appetites as being perfectly normal in any circumstances, and were gradually prising the story from them as they ate.

“We struck the masts as soon as the storm began,” the older man, who appeared to be the father, was explaining. “Old man Monroe had laden us down so far it weren’t possible to attend to the boat. It seemed like riding it out was the best option, but we failed to allow for the current that took us straight out to sea.”

“How long had you been travelling?” Barrow asked.

“Four days,” the son replied. He was a well built lad, slightly older than Parfrey, and had his father’s dark red hair. “Four days and four nights, and it weren’t the nicest of experiences, I can tell you.”

“Why were you carrying so much?” Parfrey had been one of those assisting the passengers aboard, and knew how low in the water and heavily laden the small boat had been.

“It was Monroe,” the older man told him, as if that was all the explanation necessary.

“He wanted to get everything aboard,” the second expanded. “With no ideas of how a boat will swim.”

“Well he’s lost it all now,” the father said with more than a hint of satisfaction. “Be a lucky man what finds that little lot washed up on the beach.”

“What were you carrying?”

“The crown jewels,” the father replied. “Or you would think so to hear how the old goat went on. Not a care for his wife or daughter, just had to keep the bloody paintings dry and not break any of the china.”

“A strange cargo,” Rose commented.

“Aye, an’ there was silver as well. Not plate mind, the real stuff. My, he’s going to be one unhappy man when he finds out.”

“Look, I don’t understand.” Barrow said. “How did you come to be in the middle of the Atlantic with half a shop full of household goods aboard?”

The father eyed him with an amused twinkle in his eye. “Well, it wouldn’t have done to leave it now, would it? Our Mr Monroe is not the most popular of men in the village; it was either take it and run, or just run. If he had stayed another day the old codger would have ended up hanging from a tree, or stuck so full of pike holes he’d have never enjoyed another glass of port in his life.”

“You mean the rebels would have killed him?” Rose asked, aghast.

“Them or the French, it wouldn’t have mattered which. We would never have agreed to take him, but he was offern’ more than I shall earn the rest of my life, and a man’s got to make a living.”

“I don’t see how the frogs come into this,” Barrow said, then his eyes widened as the awful truth dawned. The father looked at him as if he was especially stupid.

“Why, haven’t you heard?” he asked. “The French have landed.”

Chapter Ten

Before long they were free of the storm and
Scylla
was once again moving with a spirit of purpose. As soon as he could, Banks had increased sail, adding royals and jibs to topsails, driver and forecourse. The wind was on their beam and fitful, but they were making a credible speed with a white cream of spray showing occasionally at her bow as the ship pressed through the still heaving waves. Once Fraiser had set course for the coast of Donegal a council of war had been called and the officers met in the great cabin, aware that something of importance had been learned and ready to hear the full story.

“The French have landed, but it does not appear to be the fleet we are looking for.” As Banks spoke he observed his officers carefully, noting the subtle reactions each gave to the news. Many captains would have saved such a tasty piece of information to build up the speech and, in turn, their own importance, but Banks had no time for such tricks.

“A small ship has been spotted near Arranmore Island,” he continued. “Last seen it was anchored in the sound, and is carrying troops and supplies. It is also rumoured that a certain James Napper Tandy is aboard. For those who are not aware, Tandy was one of the founders of the United Irishmen.”

There were nods and grunts from the assembled officers and someone gave a low whistle; Tandy was well known to them all and would be an ideal candidate to kindle another revolutionary fire in Ireland.
 

“You will be aware that my informant is Mr Monroe, a local magistrate. He took to his heels as soon as the news emerged, so cannot be relied upon for more, but I think the story credible enough for further investigation. Of course we cannot tell from whence Tandy came, or if his force is the spearhead for a far greater body of men, possibly even the fleet for which we are currently searching. And chances are strong that he knows nothing about the recent French defeats. However, I consider it vital that we close with his ship, before he has the chance to become properly established. From what I gather the country is still ripe for revolution, and he is likely to find loyal sympathisers near at hand.”

More nods, and Caulfield added a hushed “Yes.” If Tandy intended to recruit men from the local population it would take time. The faster
Scylla
and her marines could intervene, the smaller the enemy they would fight.

“Mr Fraiser tells me the invasion point is approximately a hundred miles from our current position. Tandy has several days start on us; by the time we arrive he may well have set up a bridgehead or, of course, the military might have dealt with him. But in any event we will be making that our primary objective.”

There was a unanimous nodding of heads, and Banks felt mildly relieved. Diverting to the northwest coast of Ireland was hardly disobeying instructions; by now the French invasion fleet may even be anchored there. But
Scylla
would have little chance of keeping their watch over the Atlantic while making detailed investigations of Arranmore Island. He turned to Westwood.

“We will be landing your men, Captain; they are ready, I am certain.”

“Indeed, sir.” The marine beamed back, clearly eager to get to grips with an enemy that was likely to outnumber his own small force several times over.

“Very good.” His attention switched to the first lieutenant. “Mr Caulfield, we will also need a party of seamen; suitable hands must be found, and told off, and all boats checked.”

“Do you envisage a night landing, sir?” Caulfield asked. It would be the safest way with a small body of men when the surrounding area was thought to be hostile.
Scylla
might even attempt to stay out of sight, and send her boats in for the greatest element of surprise.

“Initially I think a small force to reconnoitre, but a lot will depend on the hour we arrive,” Banks told him. “I certainly do not intend to waste time. The last I heard Lord Cornwallis and the majority of the Army were a good distance to the south. It is quite possible that they are unaware of Tandy’s ship, and taking no action at all. As I see it, our mission will be to deliver a force powerful enough to keep them at bay, then take
Scylla
to raise the alarm.” That made sense, even if the ship would end up sailing with a skeleton crew, and with every likelihood of meeting a powerful enemy.

“So, gentlemen, if there are no further questions, I suggest we adjourn and make what preparations we can.” Banks looked once more at the assembled company, and found he was more than satisfied.
Scylla
might not be a line-of-battle ship, and doubtless there were officers and men who could be considered more experienced elsewhere. But he felt he had forged a reasonable weapon to use against the enemy, wherever and whenever they finally met.

* * *

“Mr Fraiser said to tell you all that he will resume the taking of noon sights today, and regular navigation classes are to be reinstated at two bells, afternoon watch.”

The announcement, which had been practised several times on the journey down, brought forth a series of moans from the occupants of the midshipmen’s berth, while Parfrey just looked relieved after successfully delivering his message. Most of the lads were still in their hammocks, but Barrow, who had risen, sat at the mess table sipping Scotch coffee, and Rose was by the washstand scraping a dry razor over his completely hairless chin. “How’s the weather topside?” The latter asked.

“Storm’s passed, and there’s a touch of sun, though Mr Fraiser says it will go soon, more’n like.” Parfrey was in no rush to return to the deck. “Boatswain’s having a look at the forestays, there’s a party caulking the forecastle again, an’ the passengers are up on the quarterdeck an’ gettin’ in everyone’s way. Oh yes, and there is something else,” he added with an air of drama.

“Well, come on, spill.” Barrow looked up and even Rose paused in his shaving. Parfrey’s eyes grew large, and his voice more confidential. “One of the passengers is dressed like a man.”

At first there was no reaction, then Barrow’s bored voice sounded from just above his cup. “And is it a man?” he asked.

“No,” Parfrey told them, disappointed and mildly confused. “No, it’s a young lady. But she’s got a seaman’s rig on. Duck trousers, shirt – only thing missin’ is an ‘at.”

“That don’t sound right,” Barrow shook his head. “Women dressed as men: passengers dressed as hands. Where will it end?”

“Are you sure they are seamen’s clothes?” Rose asked.

“Certain.” Parfrey was emphatic.

Barrow sighed. “Well I’m afraid that won’t do at all. You’d better go straight back and tell her to take them off immediately.”

“Very good,” Parfrey said, and left.

* * *