The Following Wind

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by Peter Smalley


  ‘To obey, sir? Their Lordships?’

  ‘Indeed.’ A measured sip. ‘The request came from a very high place. Direct from a very high place. Their Lordships could hardly refuse.’

  ‘Mr. Symonds. Let me get this squared away in my head, sir. You are saying, are you, that the Prime Minister is behind this commission? That he has ordered Ventura and Expedient on long foreign service together?’

  ‘The request came from a very high place.’ Putting down his glass.

  ‘But, good heaven--’

  ‘Let us say a certain person was aware that you were harshly served at the conclusion of your last commission in HMS Expedient. He could say nothing, in course. To admit the loss of so large a sum in gold, in time of war, was politically impossible. The matter could never be made public. He could not publicly support you, for the same reason. However, he was entirely cognizant that you were the victim of a cruel injustice.’

  ‘Then why--’ began Rennie.

  Mr. Symonds silenced him with a raised finger and went on: ‘Your record of service to the nation should have spoke for itself, but their Lordships chose to ignore it. In their wish to apportion blame they chose to be harsh and vindictive and punishing chose to shut you out and let you rot. The intervention of your friend Sir James Hayter was timely. When a certain person was made aware that their Lordships had further punished you by giving you a lowly guardship, he saw that the time to do what he had been minded for some little while to do was at hand. This was his opportunity, and he has took it.’

  Rennie helped himself to more sherry, filling his glass, then sat for a long moment without raising it to his lips. Presently:

  ‘Yes, forgive me, Mr. Symonds, when I ask you this very direct. Is not the intention of this certain person to silence Captain Hayter and myself?’

  ‘Silence you?’

  ‘In the matter of the lost gold. Perhaps this person felt that Captain Hayter, when he discovered my fate at his hands rotting at anchor in Taciturn rather than at home in Norfolk that Captain Hayter would write further letters, very inconvenient to the government. Further to that, that I myself, prompted by Captain Hayter, would write letters of my own, and the matter of the lost gold a million of money, in time of war would very soon come to public attention, after all. In light of this, can you tell me this certain person’s intention was not to silence us, Mr. Symonds?’

  ‘I can. It was not.’

  ‘Well well ’ Putting down his sherry glass. ‘If it was not .I will like to hear my instructions. Mine, and Captain Hayter’s. Where we are to go. What we are to do. And why we are to do it. If you please.’

  ‘You really must not be quite so impatient, Captain Rennie. Your destination, and the motive behind your voyage there, will be made plain to you in due course.’

  Rennie pursed his lips, shook his head, and quietly and firmly:

  ‘Now, sir. If you please.’

  Mr. Symonds sighed. ‘Captain Rennie, I have done my very best to be--’

  All of the frustration and bitten down wrath and burning sense of injustice Rennie had lately suffered and borne now surged up in him, surged and boiled, and he rose to his feet.

  ‘God damn me, sir, speak plain, and tell me the truth, or I shall go to that door,

  walk down the stair, and out of the Royal Navy forever!’

  As soon as he had said these words, as soon as he was aware that he was on his feet and had burst out, vehement and intemperate, Rennie was appalled. What had he done, good heaven? To his surprise and relief Mr. Symonds did not react with cold fury. Instead he held up a conciliatory hand.

  ‘Hm. Hm. You have been sorely tested, sir, these last months. If I have tested you further today, pressed you too hard, and been less than accommodating I must offer an humble apology. I sincerely hope that you will accept it .?’

  Rennie said nothing. He did not trust himself to speak. Mr. Symonds tried again.

  ‘I can I do give you my word of honour that your prospective commission is of the highest national importance. You and Captain Hayter have been chosen because of your previous record of service in like commissions. You are the only men that may be relied upon in this.’

  ‘But we lost the gold ’ Rennie, very subdued now.

  ‘It was not the first treasure to be lost in time of war. Nor will it be the last.

  And in your first commission in Expedient, I understand, you found and brought home to England from the far Pacific Ocean an earlier vast treasure in gold, on that occasion. A triumph for which you was never properly rewarded.’

  ‘It was never made public.’

  ‘No, indeed. However, your dedication and skill did not go unnoticed. Their Lordships may have short memories for great things achieved. Others have not. Accordingly you have been chosen you and Captain Hayter both to perform yet another service vital to the nation’s interest. Where do you sleep?’

  ‘Eh?’ Rennie, startled.

  ‘Where do you spend tonight?’

  ‘Erm at Mrs. Peebles’ private hotel, just off the Strand.’

  ‘Yes, I know it. A quiet, decent little place. Before you lay your head upon your pillow tonight, Captain Rennie, you will have in your hand your warrant of commission to command Expedient, and your letter of instruction. I give you my word. All I ask in return is that you sign this simple letter, withdrawing your consent to take command of HMS Taciturn.’ He pushed the single sheet he had been holding in his hand across the desk, with an inkwell and quill.

  Rennie sniffed, nodded, and signed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  In Portsmouth James had received a letter of his own, calling him forthwith to London on unspecified but urgent business. Because of his continuing difficulty at the dock yard he did not want or like this interruption, but knew he must go all the same.

  ‘I cannot ignore an Admiralty letter,’ he said to Catherine.

  ‘When do you go up?’

  ‘I shall go up by the mail coach this evening.’

  ‘Shall I come with you?’

  ‘Nay, it would very dull for you, my darling.’ He stood in front of the glass to tie his stock.

  ‘It cannot be duller than Portsmouth.’ Catherine, behind him.

  ‘Are you very dull here, my love?’ Glancing at her in the glass. She had caught up her hair with ribbon and looked particularly fetching this morning, he noticed.

  ‘Not when I am with you.’ Meeting his eye in the glass. ‘Not in the mornings and evenings.’

  This pleased him, and: ‘Then yes, in course you shall come with me to London.’ Shrugging quickly into his coat. ‘I fear I cannot stay there very long. With so much yet to do in getting Ventura ready for the sea, I must return as soon as this business whatever it is has been settled satisfactory.’ Stepping back from the glass. ‘We’ll put up at Mrs. Peebles’ hotel. There is no reason you could not stay on a few days, my love. Even a week, if you desired it.’

  ‘On my own, James? Never. I want to be with you, until you sail.’

  ‘Then we shall go up together, and return together.’ And he turned from the glass, took her in his arms and kissed her. ‘I must away to the yard.’

  ‘Will not you eat breakfast ?’

  ‘Nay, Entwhistle will give me coffee at his office. Where I meet Lieutenant Hallett.’

  ‘Shall I pack your valise?’

  ‘Yes no tell Hamble to do it. He will know what to include. Shirts, say to him.

  I must have in least two changes of shirt.’ Then, as he reached the door. ‘And ask

  him to go to Bracewell and Hyde, and inquire about those damn buttons from Firmins.’

  ‘Buttons?’

  ‘For my dress coat. He will know. I am late, I am late. Until this evening, my love.’

  Catherine thought, but of course did not say, that her husband’s manservant Hamble brought with them from Melton did not know better than she did what to include in her husband’s valise. Dismissing the thought she looked closely at her reflection in the glass,
was satisfied, and rang the bell.

  She gave instructions to the manservant, then to her maid saying she would not need her in London and went down to breakfast in the dining room.

  ‘Good morning, my lady.’

  ‘Good morning, Lady Hayter.’

  ‘Good morning, good morning, your ladyship. Your usual table?’

  Try as she might Catherine could not quite get used to all the obsequious fol-de-rol that seemed to go with her new status. Although she knew that she really must, if only to maintain the dignity of others, she could not quite take it seriously, and had to suppress a giggle whenever she encountered it.

  At the dock yard gate James was about to go in when the gatekeeper clerk emerged from his hut and stopped him, his face solemn.

  ‘I am I am obliged to tell you, sir.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mr. Entwhistle ’

  ‘Mr. Entwhistle. what?’

  ‘I am sorry to say he has been took, sir. In the night.’

  ‘Took? D’y’mean arrested?’

  ‘No, sir, no no no.’ Holding up a shocked hand. ‘He has died.’

  James instantly chided himself when his first thought was that now the repair to his ship would go even slower.

  Rennie waited at his hotel, and when no messenger had come by six o’clock in the evening he began to fret. Had not Mr. Symonds said the papers would come by this evening? His warrant of commission and instructions? Well, he had. Where were they? Hey? Why had nobody come from the Admiralty?

  Rennie rose and paced back and forth in his room. At seven o’clock he went downstairs and said to Mrs. Peebles that he was going out.

  ‘Will you be dining with us tonight, Captain Rennie?’

  ‘I will get something to eat at a chophouse, thankee.’

  Rennie hurried to the front door, then paused and came back. ‘And Mrs. Peebles?’

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘If a messenger should call round, asking for me, will you take into your private parlour what he brings, and keep it safe?’

  ‘A parcel, sir?’

  ‘Nay, a document. Two documents. No doubt in a fold, tied with ribbon. Well well, hm, perhaps he will not leave them, without I am here. Perhaps he will say that he may only give them into my own hands. In which case, Mrs. Peebles .’

  ‘Yes, sir?’ Patiently, a slight frown.

  ‘Ask him to wait.’

  ‘Very well, sir. Will you be long?’

  ‘Nay, nay I will not. But I cannot stay here confined.’ And with that he went out into the street, turned rapidly down into the Strand, and was lost to Mrs. Peebles’ view.

  When he returned at eight o’clock, the documents were not there.

  ‘No messenger came from the Admiralty?’

  ‘No, sir.’ Patiently.

  ‘Hell and damnation.’ Rennie shook his head. ‘What the devil has happened? Why has there been this unconscionable delay?’

  ‘I do not know, sir.’

  ‘Yes, forgive me, Mrs. Peebles. It ain’t your doing, not at all.’

  ‘No, sir, it ain’t.’ Her head on one side, then: ‘Have you ate, Captain Rennie?’

  ‘What? No.’ Distractedly.

  ‘Will you come into the parlour and eat something, now?’

  ‘Mm? Nay, nay, thankee Mrs. Peebles, you are very good, but I am not hungry. I am going up to my room. Should a messenger come, will you let me know at once?’

  ‘I will, sir.’

  ‘I am grateful, Mrs. Peebles.’

  Rennie went upstairs, uncapped his flask, poured brandy into the glass on his night stand, and drank it off. He poured a second measure, and drank that.

  He sat down on his bed, lay back against the pillow, and sniffed in a deep breath.

  When he woke, confusedly fumbled with his candle holder and a light, and looked at his pocket watch, it was past ten o’clock.

  ‘Damn that bloody villain Symonds ’ To himself, half under his breath. ‘He has betrayed me. Induced me to give up my guardship .and now I am cast adrift.

  Their Lordships are released of all responsibility for me, and I may sink or swim.

  God damn the wretch!’ His voice rising. ‘By God, he will rue the day! I will call him out, the damned liar! The fucking blackguard!’

  ‘Captain Rennie, sir?’ A tapping at the door. ‘Captain Rennie?’

  Rennie rose and went to the door, stumbling over a chair. He opened the door.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘There is a gen’man downstair for you, sir.’ The hall boy, with a light.

  ‘Did he bring them? Did he bring the documents?’

  ‘He says you are to go with him, if you please, sir. He has a carriage waiting.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Rennie was not disposed to go downstairs and accompany this unknown fellow to an unknown destination, late at night.

  ‘Ask him to come up to my room, if y’please.’ To the hall boy.

  ‘Oh, but sir. He has already gone back out to his carriage. He were very pressing and partic’lar you should go with him, sir.’

  ‘Was he, indeed?’ Rennie, with a sharp little grimace. ‘Now then, kindly go out to the gentleman in his carriage, and tell him this. He may either mount the stair to my room and state his business, or he may go to the devil.’ Rennie gave the boy a coin, and shut the door. He returned to his bed, sat down and waited.

  ‘If Symonds has sent him, he ought to know better. I will teach him a thing or two about naval manners, by God.’ It did not occur to Rennie until that moment that perhaps the gentleman was Symonds himself. He dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.

  Presently he heard a step on the stair, then there was a rap at his door.

  ‘Who is it?’

  The knock was repeated, an insistent rat-tat-tat.

  Rennie sighed, took up his candle holder and went to the door. He opened it, holding up the light.

  ‘What d’y’want, at this late hour?’

  To his surprise he saw a young lieutenant of marines, his coat very red in the candle glow, and his gorget gleaming.

  ‘Captain Rennie?’

  ‘I am Rennie. Who are you, sir? Have you brought my papers? If y’have not, what d’y’mean by pounding on my door in the middle of the night?’

  ‘I am Lieutenant Allbright, sir, First Marine Division. I know nothing of papers. I am sent to escort you .to bring you to an interview.’

  ‘Interview? At this hour? With whom? About what?’

  ‘I am to take you .that is, I am to bring you there, without the loss of a moment. I do not know anything more.’

  ‘Who sent you? Was it Symonds?’

  ‘I was ordered by my commanding officer, Colonel Jefferies. I know of no officer called Symonds, sir.’

  ‘First Division? Ain’t your barracks at Chatham?’

  ‘I am presently quartered in London, sir. As is Colonel Jefferies.’

  Rennie stood there frowning a moment, then, reluctantly: ‘Well well, where is this damned place you’re to take me to?’

  ‘We are to go to Chelsea, sir.’

  ‘Chelsea? What in God’s name is there?’

  ‘A large house, near the Royal Hospital, sir. Forgive me, but time is of the essence. We must set off.’

  ‘Hm, well well. Go on down to your carriage, Mr. Cartwright, and I will join you in a moment.’

  ‘Allbright, sir.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘My name is Allbright.’

  ‘Yes yes, just so. I must shift into my coat.’ And again he shut the door. He heard Lieutenant Allbright descending the stairs, and from the street outside

  the subdued snorting of horses.

  ‘It is all damned inconvenient but I must go to Chelsea, I expect.’ Rennie poured water from the ewer into the basin on the stand, rinsed his face and neck, dried himself with the hand towel, and shrugged into his dress coat. He added his dress sword, snatched up his cockaded hat, and lighted himself downstairs with his candle holder, which h
e left with the hall boy. The small parlour was empty. Evidently Mrs. Peebles had gone to bed. Rennie went outside.

  The carriage was a smart black berline, the driver perched on his seat holding the reins of two black horses. A servant descended from his post at the rear, opened the door and let down the step, and Rennie got in, careful of his sword. The interior was well appointed, he noted, in velvet and silk, with a silk fringed bench seat. He sat beside Lieutenant Allbright, who consulted his silver cased watch in the subdued light. As the carriage set off across the cobbles, Rennie:

  ‘What o’clock is it?’

  ‘Half past ten o’clock, sir.’

  ‘How long will the journey take us?’

  ‘Oh, not above half-an-hour.’

  ‘Eleven o’clock at night. That is late for an interview.’ Rennie nodded, sniffed, and offered Lieutenant Allbright his flask. To his surprise the lieutenant accepted. Rennie had assessed him as a punctilious young prig, in all probability averse to the drinking of spirits. Clearly that estimation as the young man took a deep and grateful pull at the flask had been hasty.

  ‘Thank you, sir. Excellent brandy.’ Handing the flask back to Rennie.

  ‘My wife and I are very particular what passes our lips.’ Rennie, with a nod. ‘Nothing but the best in wine, and brandy.’ He sucked down a nip, and put the flask away in his coat. ‘Are you married, Mr. Allbright?’

  ‘Oh, no, sir.’

  ‘Not attached, hey?’

  ‘Not as yet, sir. My father is most ..well, he is insistent upon my making my way as an officer before anything of that kind. He is an officer himself, d’y’see.’

  ‘In the Marines?’

  ‘In the navy.’

  Rennie thought a moment, glancing out of the side window at the street lamps.

  Then it came to him.

  ‘Good heaven, you are Admiral Allbright’s son, are y’not?’

  ‘I am, sir.’

  ‘I was at the Saints, myself. When your father commanded HMS Halcyon 74.’

  ‘The Battle of the Saints?’ Lieutenant Allbright, turning to Rennie with animated interest. ‘Did you serve with my father in Halcyon?’

 

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