The Hawk (2 page)

'What is your new ship?'

James pointed. 'The
Hawk
cutter, sir.'

Admiral Hollister shaded his eyes and looked, nodded,
waved away a very young lieutenant who had approached and
now stood waiting, and:

'Yes, I see. Since a cutter is commissioned with only one
lieutenant – she is your first command, hey?'

'That is so, sir. However, I have yet to – '

'Will it aid you to go out to her in my barge, Mr Hayter?
Am perfectly willing to oblige.'

'Well, sir, that is exceeding kind in you, but I am not – '

'Happy to oblige, Mr Hayter.' Over him, nodding
vigorously. 'Most happy to aid a fellow sea officer going into
his first command. Mr Stanway!'

'Sir?' The young lieutenant hurried forward and stood
with his back very straight, his hat correctly off.

'Mr Hayter will join me in my barge. We will take him to
his cutter.' Turning his head to James: 'Tell me her name
again . . . ?'

'She is
Hawk
, sir, ten guns. However, I am – '

'
Hawk
. A felicitous name, for a pretty little bird of prey.
Very good.'

And much against his will – for he had determined merely
to look at the
Hawk
from the shore, and then make his way at
once elsewhere – James clambered into the barge and sat in
the stern sheets with Admiral Hollister. The admiral did his
best to be congenial, and pleasant, as spray flew up from
dipping oars and the barge turned into the wind, by enquiring
after Captain Rennie.

'He is on the beach, sir.' James ducked his head, and
clutched at his hat in the wind.

'He has not got another command?' The blue stare turned
in surprise on James.

'No, sir.'

'That is damned back luck, Mr Hayter. A damned bad
business altogether. Their Lordships ought to have applied
themselves more assiduous and found something better for a
courageous and capable post, that has served the King well,
than the wretched low misery of half-pay ashore.'

'I am sure that those are his own sentiments exact, sir.'

'But we had better not damn Their Lordships altogether,
hey, Mr Hayter? Perhaps they have got a seventy-four
waiting for Captain Rennie at Chatham, or Plymouth,
refitting, or undergoing large repair.'

'Perhaps you are right, sir.'

'Hm – but you do not think so, hey? In your heart you do
not think so.'

'If I am candid – I do not, sir.'

When the barge reached the
Hawk
, and James had jumped
on the cleated side ladder to go aboard, raising his hat in
thanks and salute to the admiral, there was no one there on
deck. The dockyard artificers who made up the meagre
anchor watch were all huddled below in the cramped great
cabin, out of the wind.

'Below, there!' James, at the companionway ladder.

An artificer emerged, and slouched up the ladder. He
smelled of rum, and a clay pipe was wedged in the side of his
mouth. He peered up at James on deck, shading his eyes
against the glare.

'Don't you know better than to smoke below?' demanded
James.

'The pipe ain't afire, mate. It is fidded in me teeth,
permanent, and will not never work loose.'

'Are you a seaman? Who is below there with you?' Hearing
other voices.

'No no, mate, we's all artificers out of the yard 'ere. Alookin'
for someone p'tic'lar, was you?'

'No. No, I was not, thank you. I am merely come aboard to
look at the ship.' Effortfully polite.

'Ship, izzit? You calls this a ship, does you? Which is very
flatterin' of 'er, cert'nly, what is only a piddlin' little sloop,
awaitin' on 'er piddlin' bloody off'cer, oo ain't dispose to stir
hisself, and r'lieve us of this dooty by takin' command of 'er.
If you was a-searchin' for 'im, you will not find 'im 'ere, mate.
No, you will fuckin' not.' Swaying a little as the
Hawk
lifted
on a passing swell.

'Will you tell me who is in command of your crew?' Vexed
now, and beginning to show it.

'Ashore, mate. We was give this dooty ashore. – Has
you
come to r'lieve us? I do 'ope so.'

'No, I have not. At present I am making a brief inspection,
that is all.'

'Ohh. Esscuse me, but oo am I aspeakin' to?' Puzzled.
'Noo clerk, izzit, from the Check office?'

'Clerk! I am not a damned clerk! Stand aside now, I wish to
go below.'

'There ain't no need of biting off my 'ead.' Removing the
pipe now, and bristling. 'If you ain't from the Check, where
does you come from? Oo sent you?'

'I am not
sent
by anyone at all! I am offered command of
this ship, and you will stand aside!'

'If you
is
an officer, in which I am doubtful – since you has
only now said you wasn't – then where is your blue coat, and
gold buttons?'

'I am not obliged to explain myself to you!' James was
aware that this increasingly intemperate exchange could end
poorly for him. He had no papers, he had no warrant, he was
not in a blue coat. 'Look here, now.' Assuming a more
conciliatory tone. 'The admiral has brought me here, and put
me aboard. You see, there is his boat . . .' Pointing. The
scolding cry of a gull echoed across the riding water.

'I see no p'tic'lar boat.' Peering a moment. 'There is many
boats.'

'Yes, well, he has brought me to the ship, and I will just like
to examine her briefly, you know. I will not interfere with
your – your work aboard. I will not interrupt you at all. You
may pretend I ain't here.'

'Can't do that, look, when 'ere you is stood. I must send
someone to the Clerk of the Check, that has give us this
dooty, and make sure of your claim.'

'He will know nothing of my being here aboard. I am come
of my own volition, d'y'see. To examine the ship.'

'Your own what?' A menacing jerk of the head.

'Look here, now.' Growing resolute. 'I have pointed out
the admiral's boat to you. He has brought me to my ship. If
you wish to discuss my rank or my duties with anyone at all,
it had better be Admiral Hollister. Send a boat by all means,
send someone there to
Vanquish
, his flag. In the interim I will
look at my ship. Stand aside, if y'please.'

Something in James's tone, some little stiffening of his
back and setting of his mouth, told the artificer that no good
would come of further dispute, and he shrugged, sighed – and
stepped aside.

A long line of poplars meandered by the stream that ran
secret and quiet through the meadow at the lower end of a
broad, undulating slope, a slope crowned on the north by a
dense green copse of elm and ash and oak. On the east a flinty
path ran down, and James now rode down there on his hired
horse. He paused to shade his eyes, half-standing in the
stirrups, and saw the house about a mile distant across the
meadow, in its own surrounding stand of trees. The day was
mild, but the warmth was tempered by a freshening breeze.
Gulls floated against high feathery streams of cloud on the
wide Anglian sky, coming in from the coast to the north.
Norfolk, like so many of the counties of England, could never
ignore the sea, James reflected. He lowered himself in the
stirrups and cantered on towards the house.

Southcroft House lay just beyond the village of
Middingham off the winding road from Norwich to
Fakenham. James had come by the speediest means available
to him from Portsmouth – by packet to Dover, thence by a
second packet to Great Yarmouth, in a threatening storm
that had cleared in great tumbling piles of cloud away out to
sea; and from Yarmouth he had come upriver by ferry to
Norwich, where he had hired his horse within sight of the
castle wall, and taken the road out through Elm Hill. The
journey had been arduous, and expensive, much more
expensive than he would have liked, but he had felt that the
expense must be borne, that the journey was entirely
necessary to him. And now he came to Southcroft in the late
afternoon, dusty and thirsty and tired.

As he rode up the short drive he found a handsome small
red-brick house – smaller than Birch Cottage, his own house
in Dorset – with a steep gabled roof, six windows at the front,
and the door in a small lowbuilt annexe on the eastern side.
Beyond the annexe lay a patch of white, daisy-like flowers,
bright against the earth. A plain, plump maid, trimly dressed
in apron and cap, answered James's knock.

'Who shall I say, sir?' In answer to his query as to whether
or no Captain Rennie was at home.

'I am . . . just say an old shipmate, will you?'

'Old shipmate, sir?' Doubtfully, looking at James's dusty
breeches and coat.

'I – I wish to surprise him, d'y'see?'

'Very well, sir.' A brief bob and she retired, leaving James
to stand where he was outside, by the iron boot-scraper. He
waited, and after a moment glanced again at the flowers, and
thought of picking some to discover their scent, then:

'I am very sorry, sir, but Captain Rennie will not allow of
anyone he don't know certain to enter the house, sir. "Give
the fellow my compliments, and oblige him to state his name"
was his very words, sir.' This time she did not bob.

'Oh. Ah. Then – then in course I will.' And he gave his
name to the girl.

'Christ's blood – James!' From inside the door a moment
after, then the door was flung wide. 'Is it you? – It is, by God!
Yes, yes, it is! Come in, come in, my dear James! Why did not
ye say at once who y'was, hey? I feel such a damned fool,
leaving you waiting outside like a wretched middy at the door
of the great cabin, ha-ha-ha. Are you well? You look well.'
Guiding him into the library, and at once pouring madeira
from a wide-bottomed decanter.

'A glass of wine, James.' Handing it to him, and raising his
own. 'Your health.'

'Your health, sir.' They drank, and:

'Sit, sit, my dear James. No doubt you are weary after so
long a journey. Jenny! Jenny!'

The maid, at the door: 'Sir?'

'My guest will like an ewer of hot water and a basin,
brought to his room at the top of the stairs. The blue room,
y'have me?'

'Oh, well, you know – I had not thought to stay overnight
– ' began James, but was overruled at once.

'The blue room, Jenny. Where is your valise, James? You
have luggage?' As the maid withdrew.

'I have a small bag tied to the saddle of my horse, but I had
thought to go to the inn – '

'No no no, y'will not, unless you wish to wound me, James.
The least I can do is offer you a bed, and a good supper, hey?

You have come far? From Dorset?'

'From Portsmouth – and from Winterborne before that.'

'You are fatigued, no doubt. Let us get you berthed, and
refreshed, and then we'll make an evening of it, eh? By God,
it is right good to see your friendly face again, James. Is
Catherine well? And your boy?'

'They are in excellent health, sir, thank you.'

Not once did he ask James why he had come, and as he was
shown up to his room by the maid, and given hot water, and
made comfortable, James realized that Rennie believed this
was purely a visit born out of friendship and erstwhile
association in a common cause, the reuniting of companion
sea officers, both now on the beach.

'We will meet again at seven o'clock, James,' Rennie had
said at the foot of the stairs, 'when you are rested and eager
for food and conversation. Unless you are hungry now? A
wedge of pie? Another glass?'

'No, thank you, sir. You are very kind.'

'At seven, then.' A hand on James's shoulder a moment, a
brief pressing of fingers. From such an Englishman as Rennie
the sign of great affection.

At seven James descended the stairs, refreshed by a nap, a
thorough sluicing, and a change of shirt. The maid had
brushed his coat, and now he felt himself presentable as
gentleman and guest. Voices in the library made him pause at
the door; he had not expected other guests, had wished to talk
privately with Captain Rennie – but he went in.

And found Rennie deep in conversation with a man
perhaps forty-five or -six, spare except for a comfortably
protruding belly beneath his waistcoat, with a pleasant,
intelligent, ruddy face and spectacles.

'Ah, James, there you are. Allow me to introduce my
neighbour and friend, Mr Rountree.' And he completed the
formal introductions. James bowed, the other gentleman
bowed, and glasses were filled. A toast was proposed, and
drunk, and presently the three of them were seated – rather
nearer to the crackling fire than James would have preferred,
but Rennie was of the view that a fire should be lighted in a
gentleman's library whatever the season.

'We was talking of fear, James, as you came in,' said
Rennie, taking a pull of wine.

'Fear, sir? I hope that I have not provoked it, in this
pleasant house.' James, with a smile.

'No, indeed, Mr Hayter.' Mr Rountree smiled in return.
'No, indeed. I was telling William about a man I knew years
ago, at Norwich. A man that was ever fearful, that was
entirely consumed by apprehension. He had a terrible
certainty, each time he quit his house, that his head would be
beaten in by footpads, or that he would slip on the cobbles of
the hill and plummet to extirpation, or that he would be
struck by a lightning bolt and instantly braised. The poor
fellow could scarce stir abroad for mortal fright.'

'Good heaven, why – '

Mr Rountree raised a hand, deterring interruption.
'Indoors, a dozen prophylactic potions lay at his bedside,
within close reach, in case of incipient apoplexy, or fever. A
pitcher of water lay at the foot, in case of midnight fire. A
great wool scarf entwined his throat, in case of noxious chill.'

'Did not he fear strangulation?' James, lifting an eyebrow.

'Eh?' Rennie.

'From the scarf, sir.'

'He did fear it,' nodded Mr Rountree, 'and kept a handbell
by him, in case he should need to raise the alarm. A handbell
– and a drum.'