Authors: Peter Smalley
'Nay, nay . . . I shall be with her soon. What is the
progress?'
'One of the stolen documents has been found.'
'From the packet?'
'Aye. Discarded in a gutter not far from where the captain
was attacked. The letter – it was a letter – was much fouled
and nearly indecipherable, but for the seal and signature,
which identified it.'
'And from this you deduce . . . ?'
'That the motive cause of the assault was not the theft of
the documents. These was incidental. The real motive was
money. Gold, that an officer might have carried in his
purse.'
'But what the devil was Captain Marles about, late at night
in the Point?'
'The district is notorious, ain't it? There is your answer.'
'Notor— Ah. Yes. You think that he had visited an harlot
there?'
'Almost certainly, don't you think so? And was waylaid,
and his throat cut, coincidental.'
'So that is the finish of our inquiry, sir?'
'In course I will write an account of it, a report, you know.
The magistrate will wish to pursue the matter, I am in no
doubt, but for myself I can see no purpose in further
investigation. Captain Marles was simply unlucky, having
satisfied his lust, and there's an end to it. Hey?'
James joined Catherine in their suite, and had many
questions to ask – but did not ask them at once.
An hour passed, and another hour – and then he did ask
them.
'Your mother has been very kind.' Catherine in answer, her
hair spread on the pillow.
'Yes, she is very kind, always. She dotes on the boy.'
'I do not mean just that she will always like us to stay with
her at Melton. I mean that she has been generous. She has
given me the means to come here.'
'Ah.' Propping himself on an elbow to gaze at her.
'More than that, you know.' A smile.
'More than what?' Sitting up. 'How d'y'mean?'
'She knew of your financial difficulty, and – '
'She knew! How did she know? I did not wish her to know,
neither she nor my father was to know anything about it!
Surely you did not – '
'Darling, darling, my love. I have said nothing. She knew,
that is all. Mothers often do know these things, do not they?'
'Damnation, I don't know. Has she said anything to my
father, I wonder. My mother may have been in sympathy with
you, and given you a few guineas to come to me, but by God
my father would be wholly unforgiving if ever he discovered
my folly.'
'He has not, I know that he has not. Lady Hayter has kept
it from him.'
'Ah. Well.'
'And she has done more. A great deal more, James.'
Another smile. Answered by a frown.
'Done more?'
'Nay, do not frown.' Smoothing his brow with her fingers.
'Then tell me what it is. I do not like all this female
mystery.'
'She has paid your debt.'
'What?' Staring at her.
'Yes, she has paid it off, altogether. And she has given us
the residue, five hundred pound.'
'Paid out my debt?' Staring round the bedchamber, then
again at his wife, in a whirling confusion of thoughts and
emotions. 'Residue? What residue? I do not understand.'
'She has sold a parcel of land at Leicestershire, that under
her marriage settlement remained hers, and some farms. She
had always meant to leave the land to you, knowing that you
would get nothing from Melton on your father's death. It will
not affect her income greatly, so she decided in the goodness
of her heart to make you this gift now, and clear you of all
anxieties.'
'Mr Birch . . .'
Rennie sat alone in the dining room at the Mary Rose,
eating his dinner. He drank off his wine.
'Mr Birch . . . may I join you a moment?'
Rennie became aware of a figure in front of his table. He
frowned and looked up, and saw Lieutenant Hayter.
'James! There you are. At first I did not recall my other
name, you know. Sit, sit, my dear fellow. I had thought you
was returned to
Hawk
by this.' Glancing at the longcase
clock by the door at the end of the room. It was seven
o'clock.
'No, sir. Catherine has come, she is here at Portsmouth.'
Sitting down.
'Catherine? Why did not you bring her with you to
supper? I will always like to see your beautiful wife.'
'She is resting, at present.'
'What will you like to eat?' Looking round for the servant
girl.
'Nay, nothing, thank you. I return to the Marine Hotel to
dine with Catherine there.'
'Oh.' Disappointed.
'In course, we shall dine together very soon, but I wish to
deal with another matter now, sir, if I may.'
'Another matter?' Looking at him. 'You are going to weigh
without me, is that the fact of it?'
'No, sir, no indeed.' A breath. 'It is the matter of my debt
to you. The draft you gave me for two hundred pound, drawn
on your bank.'
'Surely they have not refused – '
'Nothing like that, nothing like that. No – I will like to
return it to you. I have no need of it, now.' He took the folded
draft from his coat, and put it on the table by Rennie's dish of
roasted meat.
'No need of it?' Rennie peered at him.
'I am most grateful to you, sir, very grateful, and I thank
you with all my heart for your kindness, when I was in grave
difficulty.'
'No
need
of it? What has – '
'My difficulty has been – settled.'
'Settled. Ah.' Raising his eyebrows, making a face. 'Ah.'
'I am most grateful for your kindness, and will never
forget it.'
'Ah. Hm.' Touching the draft, opening it, folding it again,
and leaving it there by his plate. 'You are certain? Entirely
certain?'
'I am, sir, thank you. All is settled.'
'Very good. Hm.' A sniff. 'Well well, let us drink a glass of
wine to acknowledge your good fortune, James. Hey?'
'That is kind in you, sir, but I must return to the Marine
Hotel – to Catherine.'
'Will you not drink one glass with me, James?' Injured.
'Forgive me, I am remiss. Certainly I will, sir, thank you.'
Seating himself again – he had got up on his legs.
Rennie nodded, signalled, and the servant girl came.
'Another bottle of the claret. Best claret, you mind me?'
'Yes, sir.'
'And another glass for my guest.'
The girl bobbed, and retired.
'A pretty girl,' said Rennie. 'Broad in the beam, but pretty.
But you will not like to think of servant girls, James, when you
have Catherine, hey?'
'No.' A smile.
'No. Bachelors, however, and widowers . . . well, we notice
such creatures.'
'I expect so.'
'I met a very handsome woman . . . recent.'
'Did you, sir? Is she here? At Portsmouth?'
'No no. No, it was – we travelled in the same coach, you
know, to London. Her name is Mrs Townend. She is a naval
widow . . .' Looking into the distance in his head, a musing
look.
'And will you meet her again, sir?'
'Eh?' Returning to the present. 'No, I shouldn't think so. I
expect she is well fixed in her life, and has no need of fellows
like me. One post captain dead is enough, I reckon, for her.
She will not like another – alive, but on the beach – making
himself a nuisance.'
'You said she was handsome, though . . .'
Their wine came, and glasses were filled. 'I did, I did. She
is handsome, James. But the fellow y'see before you ain't, and
knows he ain't. Well well, we will not drink to handsome
widows, but to good fortune.'
'To good fortune.'
Two days passed, during which Lieutenant Hayter – staying
ashore with his wife at the Marine Hotel – twice visited his
senior midshipman Mr Holmes at the Haslar. On the first
occasion he learned that Dr Wing had decided, in consultation
with Dr Stroud, that to operate was essential in order
to attempt the restoration of the ruptured bowel, else Mr
Holmes would die. On the second occasion Lieutenant
Hayter learned of the death of young Holmes, before the
surgery could be done. Dr Wing was greatly disturbed.
'Good heaven, he was only a boy. What business has a boy
dying? What a waste of life, entirely and utterly a waste!
Where is the sense in it?'
'I am surprised that you talk like this, Thomas.' James and
Dr Wing had come out of the hospital to get a sniff of fresh
air. 'As if the poor fellow had willed his own death.'
'In course he did not! In course he did not!' A furious sigh.
'It is just misfortune, villainous misfortune. There is no
blame can be attached to anyone.'
'Not even the Almighty?'
With quiet vehemence: 'That wretch has enough to answer
for, without I blame him for this.'
'Wretch?'
'Aye. I do not much hold with the notion of a benign and
loving Creator, ordering all life according to his own design.
If there is such a creature at all, he strikes me as a petulant,
destructive, cruel, intemperate fellow, a foul and bloodyfingered
tyrant. But I fear I do not think that there is such a
creature, neither in the heavens nor anywhere in the
universe.' A glance. 'Do I shock you, James?'
'Nay, you don't. I am of the same opinion exact.' They
walked on a few steps on the gravelled path, towards the
gates. 'I must write to the boy's family. His mother will take
it hard.'
'You know the family?'
'No, I do not. But I know that all mothers, everywhere, will
weep for a dead son, Thomas. That is a universal truth.'
'Yes.' Quietly.
'I must think of his replacement.'
'So soon?'
'It is never too soon to think of efficient working at sea,
Thomas. That is my duty as commanding officer. If I did not
think of it I should be a damned poor one.' Speaking harshly
to hide his own gloom, aware that he had contradicted his
own opinion of only a few days ago, and was airing that of his
erstwhile commander.
Thomas Wing made a face, nodded, and: 'Yes, I expect you
are right. You return to
Hawk
?'
'At once. I am out of her too long.'
'I will come with you.'
James called at the Marine Hotel to say goodbye to
Catherine, and sent a message to Mr Birch at the Mary Rose
Inn to join him at the Hard without the loss of a moment.
When Captain Rennie came to the Hard all three men
embarked in the jollyboat, and returned to their ship.
As they came aboard to Mr Dench's call, James had
reached his decision.
'Mr Abey!'
'Sir?' Attending.
'Mr Abey, you will be my new senior mid. We will
apply for a junior to aid you, but in the interim you'll
choose the brightest and ablest boy from among the
volunteers to act as your second. Ye'll have to apply a good
deal of close instruction, and knock common sense and
seamanship into his head, and teach him quarterdeck
manners. Can y'do it?'
'Oh, certainly! I mean, yes, sir.'
'Very good.' Turning away aft.
'May I ask news of Mr Holmes, sir?'
'He is dead.'
'Oh. I am – I am very sorry, sir.'
'Indeed. We are all sorry. Mr Dench!'
'I am here, sir.'
'We will weigh at once, if y'please.' Striding to the tafferel.
The call, and: 'Stand by to weigh! Hands to make sail!
Cheerly now!'
And presently HM
Hawk
cutter, ten, put to sea into a
steady westerly breeze.
Daylight still, at two bells of the second dog watch, and
Hawk
standing to the south-west, the wind abating and the swell
gentler. At an early supper in the cramped great cabin, in
which neither officer could stand erect, Lieutenant Hayter
confided in Captain Rennie.
'To say the truth I have been so confused and discomfited
since I was first informed I was to have this command, that I
had nearly decided it was nonsense.'
'Nonsense, James? By the by, I do not mean to be
ungrateful, but is this really your best wine?'
'It's a claret. It's what I could afford when we provisioned.'
'Claret? You think?' Sipping, frowning. 'Well well . . .'
'I was not greatly particular about my store of wine, sir. I
had other things was occupying my attention.'
'Yes, in course, I do not mean – I do not wish to give
offence. But I hope you will allow me, when next we go
ashore, to introduce into the ship a case or two of best claret,
from the Marine Hotel cellars. Or even the Mary Rose
cellars, that are tolerable.'
'As you wish, sir.'
Rennie saw that he had interrupted his friend's train of
thought, and caused him more discomfort, instead of helping
to allay it.
'You said you was confused . . . ?'
'Yes, yes – I was. Everything about this command
suggested it, don't you think so?' Without waiting for a
response: 'Look at the facts. The master of the
Lark
ain't her
master, after all, he is dead, a thousand leagues distant, and
has never been aboard her since a twelvemonth. Contrary to
what was suggested my commission came to me because my
father wished it, not because Their Lordships thought to
reward me when first they took
Hawk
away from the Excise
and brought her to Portsmouth. Then Captain Marles, that
was to guide and advise me, had his throat cut and the
pertinent documents stole. Documents not strictly and
properly issued by Their Lordships, but given under Earl
Chatham's private seal, instructing me to take a vessel and her
people – for what purpose? I was not vouchsafed the reason.
Like edible fungus I was kept in the dark, and fed upon
manure. Made into a mushroom!'
'You was never a mushroom, James.'
'Ain't I, though? I have thought more than once these last
few hours, since young Holmes's death – that I should resign
my commission.'
'What? Resign!' Very severe.
'Yes, resign it, because it was a damned foolish nonsense of
a duty, incapable of success, or any kind of adequate result.
Why should I not return to a quiet life at Winterborne, a
quiet pleasant family life? However . . .'