'I will just shift into them, and we will go on deck and sniff the wind, hey?
'Very good, sir.'
'I want you there with me in your present disguise, in case we should meet another vessel and be obliged to speak.'
'Then – shouldn't I wear the junior officer's coat, sir? A military sergeant on the deck of a dockyard vessel will not look—'
'Yes, yes, I had not considered that.' Over him, with a frown. 'Change coats with the young man, and then join me on the deck right quick.'
'Very good, sir.'
* * *
Evening, and the chasse-marée ran north toward the thickets of masts in Brest Harbour, the headland of the Pointe des Espagnols to larboard in the fading light. They had seen other vessels during the afternoon, but none wished to speak, and they had sailed unmolested to the limits of the roadstead.
Lieutenant Hayter, dressed in the uniform of the young lieutenant, peered through that officer's long glass.
'Can y'see Expedient?' Rennie, at his side.
'Nay, I cannot. She is concealed among many mooring numbers, sir.'
'Hm. But we will find her, I am in no doubt.'
'Yes, sir. But I wonder how we will safely approach her, when night falls? We have no boats – well, only a very small gig – and this vessel is too large to manage in so crowded an anchorage, in darkness. We will likely get athwart hawses, or even fall aboard other ships.'
'We will brail up our canvas and deploy the sweeps, and proceed very careful. There ain't a density of cloud, and there will be moonlight beside, and riding lights. We shall find her.'
'There will likely be an armed crew aboard her, don't you think so?'
'We are many, and they will be few, James.'
'We have four muskets and as many bayonets, against who knows what odds?'
Rennie turned to look at his lieutenant, and grew severe. 'I don't understand you, Mr Hayter. You have took to womanish ways. Doubt, hesitancy, caution. A desire to see calamity and misfortune, where none exists.'
'Really, that ain't quite fair, sir, when I—'
'Not fair! We have a task before us that requires clarity of purpose, and a stout heart. I will not have petulant maidservant's talk in my hearing. Mr Leigh and Mr Abey will attend me and remain at my side, if you will not stiffen your spine, and speak manly and sensible.'
'I ... I ... very good, sir.' And he had to bite his tongue, tremulous with rage.
Expedient's people were assembled on deck to double-man the long sweeps, eight on each side. Rennie ordered the lugsails and yards lowered rather than brailed up or reefed, and the chasse-marée proceeded by manpower alone.
Night had fallen as they approached the anchorage, and when the chasse-marée was hailed from the decks of various moored ships – as she was several times during the next glass – James simply replied:
'Dockyard vessel! Artificers aboard!'
Which response was in every instance satisfactory, since the vessel was allowed to pass without hindrance deeper and deeper into the harbour.
James grew increasingly uneasy as they went. He wished to say to his captain that the alarm must certainly have been raised hours ago at the fort, and very probably the chasse marée herself missed by now, and that if they continued to move about the harbour they would almost certainly be apprehended, and dealt with very severe. However, James had no wish to be called 'womanish' a third time, and so he kept quiet.
A few minutes after, it was Rennie himself who voiced those very fears. Now from the shore could be heard the sound of great activity. Platoons of soldiers marching, the barking of dogs, and shouts of command. Lights flickered along the harbour wall.
Rennie took a deep sniffing breath, peering anxiously at the shore, and:
'We must find Expedient right quick, or be took ourselves.'
They had by now traversed the nearly entire width of the anchorage, narrowly avoiding a dozen ships. A shape loomed out of the blackness, and James, in a hoarse, carrying whisper:
'Oars!'
The sweeps lifted from the water, and the chasse-marée gliding with barely a ripple.
'I know those lines.' Rennie, quietly.
'Aye, sir.'
It was their ship. It was Expedient. The chasse-marée glided right alongside the greater ship, fended herself off with sweeps, then was manoeuvred in under the starboard chains. Now from above, a French voice:
'Who is there? Who are you?' A face appeared at the rail, in the glow of a lantern.
'Dockyard,' called James.
'Ah, oui.' The face and the lantern. 'You are very late. Too late.'
'We were delayed by all the upheaval ashore. Some kind of search, I don't know.'
'Alors, they never tell us anything out here. But you are too late now. Come back tomorrow, will you, when we are ready to start dismantling the rigging?'
'We have been sent to come aboard tonight, so we may begin work at first light.'
'First light? Why so early?' Grumbling.
'Because that is the arrangement made by the shipwright! Mon Dieu!'
'Oh, very well. Come aboard. There is nothing to eat, you are too late.'
'Well done, James.' Rennie, in his lieutenant's ear, all irritation with him forgotten.
With the chasse-marée moored alongside, tethered to a stunsail boom, Rennie, James, Lieutenant Leigh and the other Expedients all went aboard. As they came up the side ladder into the waist, Rennie whispered to James:
'Let us first ascertain how many they are, and then decide how to tackle them.'
'Very good sir.'
The guard aboard the ship consisted of a sergeant of the militia – the man who had hailed them – and a platoon of irregulars. The sergeant appeared to be resentful of this duty. His men – in his view – were the flotsam and jetsam of the port. In a brief conversation with James – as the Expedients assembled on deck – he described himself as protecting 'a worthless hulk'.
'Worthless? Nay, that is why so many men have been sent. To commence the repair.'
'But surely the repair has been cancelled?' Puzzled. 'As I understood, the whole damned ship was to be stripped out, the rigging and masts dismantled, and then she was to be broke up.'
'Broke up? Then you have been misinformed, Sergeant. Tell me, have her powder and shot, and her stores, been removed?'
'Well, that is all to be commenced tomorrow, as I thought you knew ...'
'Oui, oui, of course. Where are your men, at present?'
'They are below.'
'Ah. Bien.' A bayonet to the sergeant's throat. 'You will oblige me by keeping silent, and you will not be harmed.'
'Christ, who are you!'
'Keep silent.' Pressing the tip of the blade into the sergeant's throat.
James beckoned to the others who were armed, and the sergeant was bound and gagged. Presently the armed party went below, and took the platoon of irregulars entirely by surprise at their supper. Plainly these were not men who had ever expected to make up a guard in anything but name.
'Why was she not better protected, James?' wondered Rennie, as they came on deck and went aft.
'The dockyard lieutenant who commanded the chasse-marée said she was to be repaired, I am certain of it.' Glancing up at the rigging. 'Sir, should not we inspect the ship below, first? Make an assessment of—'
'Yes, yes, presently.' Rennie crossed from the starboard rail to the larboard on his quarterdeck, and peered aloft. Then: 'Yes, the navy, and the whole maritime organisation here at Brest, is plainly in a condition of disarray and division, James. One faction don't wish for what t'other does. That is the confusion, I think. And I should say that was so throughout the port.'
'And – that will aid us, will it not?'
'To escape? Aye, certainly. While they search for us in confusion ashore, little dreaming we are afloat in our own ship. Aye.'
'Sir? Captain Rennie?' Richard Abey, ascending the ladder from the waist.
'Well?' As his acting lieutenant came a
ft.
'We have found Mr Loftus, sir, and the other standing officers. They were confined in the orlop.'
'Very well, thankee, Mr Abey. That is welcome news.'
'They were supposed to assist with the repair, sir, then the decision to repair was lately overturned, and they were locked away.'
'In irons?'
'No, sir. But they were bound up very painful, and left in the sail room without food or water.'
'Is Dr Wing with them?'
'Yes, sir. He is attending to them now, sir.'
'And his own condition?'
'He is very furiously angry, sir. Raging angry. "It is infamous – wretched infamous!"'
'Ah. You have his voice very accurate, Mr Abey. But he is otherwise unharmed?'
'His wrists are very chafed, and his ankles – but he ain't really hurt, sir. Only angry.'
'We may thank God they all survive. Where is Mr Leigh?'
'He is inspecting the hold, sir.'
'Very good. You will join him.' And as the youth made his obedience and turned to go: 'Mr Abey ...'
'Sir?'
'Take care not to mimic the doctor anywhere proximate to him, hey? In fact, ye'd better not do it at all, any more.'
'Very good, sir.'
As Richard departed, Rennie turned to James. 'We should release those fellows in the chasse-marée. They will be damned uncomfortable by now, trussed up below.'
'D'y'mean release them from their bindings, sir, or let them go altogether?'
'Good God, we can't just let 'em go, James.' A sniff.
'Then – how may we safely untie them, sir?'
'Well well – they had better be made comfortable, in least. I don't wish us to be seen as tyrants and torturers. That ain't our way, in the Royal Navy.'
'I will see what can done for them.'
'Very well. But first there is the more pressing matter of the overall condition of the ship. Ask the boatswain to come and see me. I want him to tell me whether or no we are able to weigh and make sail, with the ship so badly damaged and in need of repair. I pray God he will tell me – yes.'
'Aye, sir.'
And I will like to hear a report from Mr Storey about our guns, and gunners' stores. Say so to him, will you?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then we'd better have a report from Mr Trent about our victualling stores. Oh, and by the by, impress upon the people they must move about the ship as quiet as mice, no loud talk.'
'Very good, sir. Erm ... anything else?'
'What? No no, James. Carry on, if y'please.'
James touched his hat, and went below, and Rennie paced aft, looking aloft, a post captain once more in command of his ship.
The wind had died to nothing, and now the hush of the anchorage was broken only by the distant shouts and tramping of boots ashore – and a great confusion of activity along the harbour wall.
Rennie peered there, found a glass at the binnacle, raised it, and:
'In course ... in course ... they are getting into boats to search for the chasse-marée.' He lowered the glass and hurried below.
Presently, in the great cabin, Rennie addressed his hastily summoned officers.
'We will take aboard the crew of the chasse-marée, then scuttle her. When we slip on the tide early tomorrow, we will set her crew adrift in a boat. Mr Hayter, you will take a party aboard, and bore holes in her hull. As quick and quiet as you can, if y'please. Mr Leigh, you will take charge of the crew, and bring them into the ship. Mr Abey, you will observe the activity of the searching boats, and report their movements to me glass by glass.'
'Aye, sir.'
'Very good, sir.'
'Very good, sir.'
'Yes, Doctor?' As the surgeon appeared at the door. 'Come in, come in.' And Dr Wing did come in, as the other officers departed, and he made a detailed report, with a written list.
Of the 260 souls of Expedient's original complement, fewer than 100 remained. Of those coming under Dr Wing's interest, the dead had been buried at sea, and the many wounded had been taken ashore. In answer to Rennie's question:
'No, sir, I do not know where ashore, exact. There is a good naval hospital here at Brest, I believe. We may hope they have been carried there, but nothing is certain. The navy here – indeed authority altogether – is sadly lacking in direction and order. Take as an instance the shameful way we were treated, tied hand and foot like common footpads, nothing to eat or drink—'
'Yes yes, well well, we have all suffered considerable inconvenience of late, Doctor. You will perhaps like to consider the damage we ourselves have inflicted on the French. And to reflect that we are all of us fortunate not to've been took out on a public square and shot. A possibility still, if the boats coming from the shore should find us.'
'Do you think they will find us, Captain?'
'I hope not. I hope not. With so broad a harbour to traverse, so many ships, so little discipline ... perhaps they will grow weary and desist. After all, they have got back their king, have not they? I expect that counts for everything with them, now.'
'You mean, sir, do you not – that they mean to execute their king?' Quietly.
'Nay, I mean nothing of the kind, Doctor. We made our best endeavours to bring him away, at great cost to ourselves. Our ship is gravely damaged, and we can only hope to limp home as it is. We cannot allow ourselves to dwell on the present circumstances of the French king, nor speculate as to his future, when it ain't in our hands. That is a matter for the French, now.'
'Then – forgive me, sir – if it is only a matter for them, why did we come here at all?'
Rennie glared at his surgeon, and for a moment was very angry with him. Then he sighed, and shook his head.
'This is our fourth commission in Expedient, Thomas, and I think Their Lordships know we will never shirk our obligation to face hazard, in whatever form it may take. But I tell you plainly – this commission is the most improbable of success that I have ever been obliged to accept. I have done my utmost – we all have – but I am not God Almighty, nor even one of his saints, that can work miracles. I am only a sea officer, mortal flesh and blood, my ship is but a little wooden world, and we have both been nearly destroyed in a cause that could never find a favourable end, that was clearly doomed from the beginning.' A breath. 'Why did we come?'
'Indeed ...'
'Because we was ordered. Because it was our duty. I will always like to do my duty – if I am able.'
'Again, forgive me, but that don't quite answer the question, sir.'
For a moment Dr Wing thought he had gone too far, and that Rennie would turn on him in a fury, but now he saw that Rennie's taut silence as he stood at the table was not scarce-contained anger, but scarce-contained grief. A tear fell on his cheek, and quietly:
'I cannot bring myself to look close at your list ... and the names of all those we have lost. All those young lives, gone for ever. Tom Makepeace, the best and most loyal of men ... I wish to God I knew the answer to your question, Doctor, I wish I did. Alas, I do not.'
SIXTEEN
An hour before dawn. The tide had turned, and was now on the ebb. Very quietly, all hands under strict orders to remain silent, Expedient slipped her moorings. She needed neither wind nor towing boats to make headway, but could proceed purely by the force of the receding water. At Brest, as everywhere along this coast, the tides were extreme in their ebb and flood. As she began to move there was no further sign of the searching boats.
Expedient was not in what her officers would call a seaworthy condition. She had been battered, her masts and rigging were far from sound, and her people were sadly few. It could not be helped. With everything at stake she would have to do. The crew of the sunken chasse-marée were now placed bound and gagged in the vessel's boat, and released to drift.
'They will be discovered soon enough, I expect,' Rennie said to James as they watched the boat slowly spin and bob in their wake, and drift away at an angle. 'Our task now is to remain undiscovered, hey?'
<
br /> 'Indeed, sir.'
Expedient's mooring lay at some distance from the dockyard and wall, but with many ships lying outside her. A passage had been left clear of ships between her and the western side of the roadstead, so that dockyard vessels might come and go. This was the passage Expedient slipped through now, gliding west across the harbour toward the narrow entrance, the fort to the north, and the Pointe des Espagnols to the south. They had a bare hour to accomplish their escape before daylight rode up like a fiery enemy to pursue them. Rennie had his carronades run out, with two-man crews standing by. To James:
'We cannot fight our long guns so short-handed. We must afford ourselves some protection, however, and our smashers will provide it.'
'What will become of our wounded ashore, d'y'think?'
'Do not ask me that.' Quietly.
'I'm sorry, sir.'
'The only thing that should make us glad is that we are tolerable well provisioned for an hundred souls – I am not glad, though.'
'Nor I.' Thinking of Juliette, whom he now believed – in his heart – was dead.
'But neither am I sad, James.' Lifting his chin. 'I am resolved.'
Expedient reached the point immediately south of the fort, and Rennie ordered topsails loosed and the beginning southerly wind harnessed. He sniffed the wind, and the sea, and began to believe – where before he had only allowed himself to hope – that Expedient really would make her escape. He squared his shoulders in the first faint greyness of dawn, and felt the sturdy planking beneath his feet.
'My ship is under my legs again, and—'
BOOM BOOM BOOM
The guns of the fort, high on the cliff. Spray erupted white to starboard, half a cable short of the ship.
'Christ Jesu ...' Rennie stared at the black wall of the cliff.
Further flashes there.
BOOM BOOM
'Mr Tangible! Courses and t'gan'sails! We must run for our lives!'
'Hands to make sail! Topmen aloft!' And the calls.
'We will all bear a hand, Mr Hayter. Every man that is on his legs.' Rennie, moving to take up a place on a halyard. 'You too, Mr Loftus.' Beckoning his sailing master from his place by the helmsman at the wheel. Spying a boy running forrard: 'You there, boy! Clap on to this fall! You ain't of a size, but y'must pull your weight today, all the same.' And to the carronade crews: 'Leave those smashers for now! Bear a hand!'
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