Norton, Andre - Novel 08 (19 page)

 
          
 
As Crofts explained, Fitz began to understand.
There was a great deal of truth in what the Captain said. On a foggy day the
exploit might well come within the realms of possibility after all. He began to
take fire until he remembered what lay beyond the walls—a city.

 
          
 
"And what do we do—once outside?'' He
asked. "Wander around as did
Henderson
until the provost guard snaps us up and we
spend forty days in the Black Hole, if not worse, for being found with the wrong
coats on our backs?"

 
          
 
"Once outside there are those who will
see us out of
Plymouth
." Crofts appeared wholly confidant. "But don't ask for the
full story now. You'll have it all in good time."

 
          
 
Fitz remembered what
Watts
had said weeks ago— that there were those
in
England
who would contrive to set an American back across the Channel again
safely, could he win their aid. Probably Crofts knew of such, right here in the
heart of one of the greatest English naval ports.

 
          
 
"Now, you, my friend," the Captain
continued briskly, are going to be taken of a
chill "

 
          
 
"A what?"

 
          
 
"A chill.
Making
it necessary for you to borrow from Captain Blount his greatcoat—the Captain's
being the only whole one big enough to cover those legs of yours. You will wear
this coat in the yard for the next few days —constantly. Also it might be well
to cultivate a cough of sorts to lend your role color. I don't know how good a
play actor you are,
Lyon
, but do your best—your very best. You'll
find Blount's coat over there. And shiver, my boy, don't forget to
shiver!"

 
          
 
"That won't be so hard. They call this
summer-but I sometimes wonder if I'll ever be really warm again." The
Marylander looked at his bare surroundings with open dissatisfaction. "All
right, I shiver and chill and take the loan of Blount's coat. What else-break
out with smallpox no doubt?"

 
          
 
"No," Crofts' answer came briskly.
"You persuade the barber surgeon, who is with the Frenchies over the way,
to clip your hair very
short "

 
          
 
Fitz was on his feet. "I what?" he
demanded.

 
          
 
"Use your eyes, man," Crofts was
impatient. "These British officers wear wigs—they're smarter and more a la
mode than our men. Think you can cram a wig on over that thatch of yours? And
don't say you can powder—where and
how "

 
          
 
Fitz crossed the room and peered anxiously
into the scrap of mirror which served
Henderson
in making his toilet. The bandage was off
his hand and a raw looking gash almost at the hairline on his left temple was
the only sign of his wound. He had never worn either wig or powder and wondered
how it would seem to see white instead of black hair on his reflection.

 
          
 
"You'll be surprised at the way it will
disguise you," Crofts added. "Faith, I've not known myself the once
or twice I was moved to play the fop."

 
          
 
"And where do we get the wigs?" Fitz
wanted to know. "Not with the compliments of the agent, I suppose?"

 
          
 
"Well get them at the proper time.
Meanwhile you have your hair clipped to relieve those headaches of yours. A
good excuse which everyone will accept without question."

 
          
 
"So I get clipped and shiver." Fitz
was resigned to his fate now. "Very well, sir. At least I shan't be able
to complain of the dullness of my days in prison."

 
          
 
Crofts laughed. "Oh, I promise you
there'll be excitement aplenty before we are done with this excursion of ours.
And we aren't the only ones to be planning to go a-roving. Three of our men are
working with the party who are now investigating the possibilities of the sewer
system. They deserve a fair return for the labor they are putting into that
exploit "

 
          
 
"What about Mike, sir?" Fitz came
back to the table. "He came in with me and I don't like to think of him
being left here alone."

 
          
 
Crofts' hands were suddenly still. "Yes,
Mike," he said slowly. "There is this in our plans,
Lyon
. We may speak of it as an amusing episode,
a trick of wits against wits. But they," he waved to the wall and what lay
beyond it, "don't altogether consider it in the same light. Fugitives may
be safely shot at. And the Black Hole is not a good place for a boy scarce into
his teens. Mike is safer here under Captain Drake's supervision. I've made
arrangements for Mike with the Captain. And once we get outside there are
others who can be induced to do something for the lad."

 
          
 
His last hesitation thus swept away, Fitz
pulled on the rusty woolen coat. "Very well, sir, I go now—to be clipped
and to shiver—in public." He saluted in an exaggerated manner and the
Captain grinned.

 
          
 
"For a marine you're a remarkably
adaptable man, Mr. Lyon."

 
          
 
"Marines are adaptable, sir. Aren't they
soldiers and sailors too—usually getting the worst of both bargains? When do I
see my new suit?"

 
          
 
"When I send for you,
sir, and not before."
Crofts returned to his calculations, and Fitz
took the hint to go-

 
          
 
The French barber-surgeon was duly sympathetic
with Fitz's tale of headaches and agreed that removing the weight of hair might
help the condition. He also examined the cut professionally, pronounced it
healing nicely, and accepted half a crown with the greatest of ease. But Fitz
thought it well to cultivate ill health and dragged himself back to the
so-called warmth of the "coffee house." Refusing to do more than
unbutton the top two buttons of his borrowed coat, he proclaimed to all comers
the unfortunate state of his health and remained in the most depressed spirits
all afternoon, until even Neagle gave him up as impossible and left him to
brood alone in the darkest corner of the room. Fitz responded by actually
dozing off and awoke sometime later with a start which would have been more apt
if given by a sentry at a frontier fort when confronted by a painted Mohawk.
Mike stood before him hopping impatiently from foot to foot.

 
          
 
"Please, sir, the Captain wants to see
you—in Mr. Henderson's room
. ,
,

 
          
 
Just in time Fitz recalled his invalid state
and was able to turn his quick jerk forward into a creaking rise, throwing in a
groan for good measure. He rubbed his forehead as he crossed the room and was
careful to halt inside the door to make sure his coat was buttoned against the
drizzle which was beginning to fall again.

 
          
 
Fitz hoped that they could reasonably count on
the persistence of vile weather. A few unwholesome fogs would be excellent. He
climbed the stairs to
Henderson
's quarters with a stiffness which was not altogether imagined. The doze
on the hard bench had done nothing to keep him supple. And he showed not too
bright a face to his commander, just as the other's greeting to him was
anything but flattering. For Crofts had taken one look at his uncovered head
and had burst into open and prolonged laughter.

 
          
 
The marine sought the mirror for the second
time that day and was revolted by what he saw there. His head was now covered
by what appeared to be springy black fur about an inch long—like the pelt of a
cat— and his ears stood out gauntly in a fashion which would have finished off
all vanity, had he still possessed any. He turned back to the Captain with some
of his old heat.

 
          
 
"Very amusing, aren't I? Faith, I should
have had him finish the job and painted my face. Then you could have trotted me
through the countryside for an Indian! I'll wager such a trip would be no more
lack-witted than the other.''

 
          
 
Crofts, weak from laughter, held up his hand
in protest. "Wait until the transformation, my boy. I'm sure then you
won't be so dour-mouthed about it. Clap a wig over that
skull,
and a properly fitted coat on you, up your nose at the world, and you'll make a
guardsman as will turn maids' heads in plenty."

 
          
 
"Yes,"
came
Henderson
's voice from the shadows, "does not
the ugly worm become in time the butterfly?"

 
          
 
Fitz made a face at his reflection and then
grinned. "So now I am a worm, am I? Well, just so I am not required to
make this mysterious journey of ours flat on my belly after the way of worms!
And how about our clothes?"

 
          
 
"You see before you the raw
material." Crofts showed him two rolls of blue and white cloth and a
smaller package with a glint of color in its interior. "I must reduce my
rank—a man of my age would hardly be a captain in the British Navy where
seniority and rank go hand in hand. So I become a lieutenant and you step
up—also a lieutenant—though a junior one, of course.”

 
          
 
Fitz considered that. "Suppose I decide
to hold to my new rank, sir?" he asked mischievously.

 
          
 
The quirk of amusement faded from Crofts' lips
and he looked up at his taller junior with honest seriousness. "If we come
safely through this venture,
Lyon
, and
you wish to stay with me, there will be a full lieutenancy of marines for you.
Poor Biggs did not survive that last boarding attack and I like to choose my
own officers/'

 
          
 
"I'll remember, sir. And I shall remind
you of it— the first instant after we step foot in
France
again."

 
          
 
Henderson
lifted the small noggin he had been
nursing. "And as one standing only on the outskirts of this desperate
venture," he told them, "I am going to drink to that, gentlemen.
Though this I shall also say, of all the men now under this roof, I believe you
two to be the best equipped to try the venture which you, Captain Crofts, have
outlined to me. It is fantastic, unbelievable, and impossible. But I think that
you can do it!"

 
          
 
Crofts bowed. "Coming from you, sir, that
is an opinion we shall cherish. Luck may have turned her smiles from us for the
moment, but that shall not prevent our wooing the proud jade again. Now then,
Lyon
, if you will remove Blount's mainsail and
sundry of your other garments, while Mr. Henderson makes certain that we shall
not be interrupted, we shall see how much of my training as an apprentice I
have forgotten."

 
          
 
Oh, God made man, and man made ships,

            
But God makes very few

            
Like him who sailed our ship that
day,

            
And fought her,
one to two.

 
          
 
—the Constitution's last fight

 
          
 
But for the next few days the weather was
obstinately good, and Fitz, puffing about in the greatcoat, began to be
thankful for the forced shearing which left at least one portion of his body
cool. Yet
Devon
was not
Maryland
, and four days of a pale sun did not mean
American summertime. He awoke on the fifth morning to find a fine rain falling
in the Mill yard. And the drum of that water on the wall was as stirring to his
blood as the recruiting music which had drawn him into this adventure in the
first place.

 
          
 
He lost no time in seeking out Captain Crofts.
Unfortunately, a day of rain also meant a day of school for the children of the
prison, and
Henderson
's pupils were all there, and so private
conversation was impossible. Fitz curled his long legs under him on a back
bench and settled down to listen while Crofts stitched ahead at his tailor's
work and
Henderson
talked as vividly as ever.

 
          
 
They were treated to an entertaining discourse
on the progress of the war and what it meant to their homeland, with
speculative excursions into the future of the western lands and how many miles
it might be from the Atlantic to the Pacific—providing one was able to make the
trip safely under one's own scalp. This subject led naturally to some bloody
reminiscences of the late Indian wars, to the account of which almost everyone
present, as young as he might be, could add a tale from his own family history.

 
          
 
Finally the study period was over.
Henderson
lit two candle stubs and put them on the
table at Crofts' elbow.

 
          
 
"How does it go, my friend?"

 
          
 
Crofts regarded a pricked finger and swore.
"Awkwardly enough," he returned frankly.
"
'Tis
not as neat as it might be, but I think it shall pass
inspection."

 
          
 
Fitz shed his outer garments and tried on the
result of the Captain's work, turning slowly before his critical audience while
they tried to find flaws. Finally
Henderson
nodded with approval.

 
          
 
"To my old eyes it is as like the plumage
of one of those young cocks as one crow's feather is like another.
A good job, my boy—in fact—excellent!"

 
          
 
Crofts skinned off the cloak he had worn
draped about his shirt-sleeved shoulders and pulled on the other coat, so that
a moment later two lieutenants of His Majesty's Navy strode the boards of Mill.
Henderson
clapped his hands.

 
          
 
"Capital! Capital! You might set up in
London
to tailor the mode, Captain, and make a
fortune at it. Now for the finishing
touch "

 
          
 
The schoolmaster brought out a covered basket,
from the depths of which he produced two objects well wrapped in clean towels.
At his command Fitz sat down and allowed
Henderson
to adjust over his clipped hair a freshly
tied and curled wig. When it was safely in place the Marylander crossed to the
mirror and surveyed himself. A stranger stared back at him a bit defiantly.

 
          
 
Crofts had been right. The white curls and
smooth waves above his forehead gave a totally new cast to his features. The
weathered brown of his skin seemed all the darker by contrast—now he was almost
swarthy. And yet, when he put up his chin and curled his lips a little scornfully,
he resembled any of the young officers who had come to see them from time to
time. He wished that the scrap of mirror were larger so that he could see all
of himself in this new guise.

 
          
 
A little reluctantly he turned to face Crofts,
but the American Captain had disappeared. Instead, a gamecock officer fronted
him, a man with an arrogant tilt of the head and a have-at-you air to him. It
would be a brave sentry or provost guard who would dare to ask this apparition
for his credentials. Fitz's confidence began to rise: they would be able to do
it. But something of his feelings must have shown in his face, for Crofts said
gravely, "Don't be a crowing cock too soon,
Lyon
. We aren't out of the reach of the
poulterer yet."

 
          
 
"When do we try it?" Fitz wanted to
know. Now that he was costumed for the role he was eager for the play to begin.

 
          
 
"I have been informed,"
Henderson
answered tranquilly, "that there is a
good chance of our being visited by a choice party of our captors this
afternoon. It seems that two frigates have arrived in harbor and, since we are
the principal source of amusement ashore at the present time, we are to receive
some attention from the officers. So I would advise that the two of you linger
here. If we are so visited, one of my scouts shall bring me intelligence of it,
and then you can carry out your plans as you see fit."

 
          
 
Fitz pulled at his stock and strode
impatiently back and forth across the room until Crofts motioned him to come
and sit beside him. The Captain had twisted a length of paper into a spill and
was lighting it at the candle, letting it burn and then pulverizing the ash
with his fingers.

 
          
 
"If we are separated," he began,
"it will be necessary for you to have some information. And if there is a
chance of trouble we must separate. It is better that one gets through than
neither. Remember that," he said, looking at the marine sternly.
"There must be no heroics for either of us. And our safe return to
France
may be more important than you think. Every
effective officer who gets out of prison and back into service is a minor
victory for our cause.

 
          
 
"Now pay strict attention to this. We
shall go to a certain address here in
Plymouth
, and, if all has progressed as I have
reason to believe it has, we will take a post chaise there and go across
Dartmoor
to
Exeter
. From there our way lies through
Bath
to
London
"

 
          
 
"
London
!" Fitz had had an idea that they would
try to escape by the Channel instead of venturing into the heart of enemy
territory.

 
          
 
"Yes,
London
.
Once the alarm bell rings here, the
waterfront will be watched. They will not expect us to strike inland, and there
is a better chance to escape through
London
than from a naval port such as
Plymouth
—with half a fleet in the bay, patrol boats
out, and a sentry behind every quay post. In
London
, on the
Pall Mall
, there is a coffee house—the Sign of the
Lighted Candle—much patronized by Tory refugees from the states. We are to go
there to contact one George Norwood. Ask for him openly, it is much the custom
to give a coffee house address as one's own if one hasn't presentable lodgings.
And half the Tories are well out at the elbows now that their holdings on our
side have been confiscated. When you meet with
Norwood
, say that you come from the Gray Brothers,
and then follow his orders. Remember these directions if we have to part ways
before reaching
London
."

 
          
 
Fitz repeated slowly, to the Captain's
satisfaction, "The Sign of the Lighted Candle on the
Pall Mall
, George Norwood,
the
Gray Brothers."

 
          
 
"Gentlemen," Henderson, who had gone
quietly out of the room, was now back again, standing just inside the door,
"our visitors from the harbor are now within the outer wall."

 
          
 
Fitz settled his hat carefully over the new
wig, a little wary of its security on his skull. Then Blount's coat went over
his uniform, while the Captain muffled his in the boat cloak. They shook hands
with
Henderson
before trudging down the stairs to the
misty yard. It was easy enough to walk across and join a small group of
disconsolate Americans who huddled together in the rain like a flock of damp
barnyard fowl.

 
          
 
"That you, Cap'n?" inquired one
softly as they came up. Fitz recognized one of the gunners who had served
aboard the Retaliation.

 
          
 
"Aye,
Ames
. This is our day,
man
"

 
          
 
"We be ready, sir. Jus' give us th'
word!" There was a burst of loud laughter from the inner gate, and a party
of cloaked officers came through, looking around them with the same frank
curiosity which one might have when visiting a lion's den in safety. They were
all young men and plainly on a holiday. Fitz's spirits rose. It should not be
hard, with the misty rain to curtain them, to join the tail of such a group
when they went out again.

 
          
 
The visitors favored the Americans in the yard
with only a glance or two, since the unpleasantness of the weather sent them on
into the shelter of the main prison house without lingering. After they had
gone, a small figure pounded out and shoved an unwieldy bundle of cloth at
Fitz. It was Mike.

 
          
 
"Mr. Neagle's compliments, sir," he
said formally, "an' he believes that yo' shall find this o'
assistance "

 
          
 
Fitz was holding an officer's boat cloak much
like the one which covered Crofts' disguise. Now, when the time came to shuck
Blount's coat, he would not have to march out without any protection against
the wetness.

 
          
 
"Tell Mr. Neagle—give him my
thanks," he said hurriedly. But Mike had pressed on to the Captain.

 
          
 
"I can do it, sir," he was saying
excitedly. "Tom an' me tried it an' I can slip through
th
'
window bars easy!
So I can answer for Mr. Lyon at roll call
an' that will give yo' more time, sir!"

 
          
 
One of the men dropped a big paw on the boy's
shoulder. He met the Captain's eyes across Mike's head.

 
          
 
"Don't be a-worritin' about this one,
sir. We'll see he doesn't get int' mischief."

 
          
 
Fitz was almost moved to laughter by the look
of outrage on Mike's freckled face when a low whistle reached them. Crofts
straightened and flung back the edge of his cloak to show a bit of his uniform
and Fitz unbuttoned Blount's coat and passed it to the nearest man with
instructions to return it to the rightful owner. He had just pulled on Neagle's
cloak behind a screen of his former shipmates when one of the sightseers came
out. Mike, with a whoop, flipped into a series of agile cartwheels which took
him across the yard almost to the door where the British officers were
standing. Several of them laughed, and one threw a coin which Mike's fingers
closed upon before it struck the pavement. He made an impudent remark and a
face in way of thanks.