Touch and Go
Page 25
“You can tell Captain Charbonnier that a craft is approaching which may have important news. Then return on deck. I want you to be present when the news is received.” As Grobert went below Delancey repeated much the same words to Varignon and the others. “If you hear the news when I do you will know that there has been no trick, that the lugger’s captain will not be saying what I have asked him to say. If you have a telescope, I should be glad to have the use of it for a few minutes.”
The third mate produced an old spyglass and Delancey studied the lugger. It was the Dove beyond question and—yes—she was flying her ensign with the union downwards! So peace had been made and the Bonaparte was no lawful prize. He could be sued by the French owners for wrongful detention, for damage and for compensating the wounded. He would have to sell Anneville and realise on all he possessed. He would be left penniless and in debt. He should be grateful, he supposed, if he were left alive but it was, from his own angle, a grim conclusion to the war and a disastrous beginning to the period of peace that was to follow.
The Dove hove to near the Merlin, striking her reversed ensign and lowering a boat. Ten minutes later Sam Carter reached the Bonaparte’s deck and was greeted there by Delancey, who said at once “Sam, I want these gentlemen to hear the news from you, one of them (he indicated the purser) will interpret if you speak slowly.” Sam looked slightly bewildered but did as he was asked.
“Captain Delancey, gentlemen, news has just reached Guernsey that preliminary articles of peace were signed on October 1st. For some reason there was delay in sending confirmation of this to the Lieutenant-Governor of Guernsey. Peace had in fact been made before the Merlin sailed from St Peter Port.”
When the interpreter conveyed the sense of this to Varignon, Grobert and the others, Delancey thanked Sam warmly for bringing the news and then turned to Varignon:
“Please be good enough to tell Captain Charbonnier that the war is over, that you yourself heard the news directly and that there is now no point in making any further sacrifice, whether of ships or men. Take Grobert with you and send him in first.” To the others he said, “I think the moment has come for a glass of wine, to celebrate the fact that we are at peace. Mr Topley, send my steward over with two bottles of champagne. I hope that we shall find the glasses we need in the great cabin.” An informal party was held, Delancey proposing a toast to the First Consul and Bonaparte’s purser proposing a toast to George III. They had reached that point when Grobert and Varignon returned.
“Captain Charbonnier will not quit the magazine until both ships have entered Cherbourg.”
“And I am still under orders to go to Plymouth,” said Delancey. “Gentlemen, forgive me for a moment. I must have a word in private with your gunner.” Outside the cabin he spoke urgently to Grobert.
“We are dealing with a madman. He has to be disarmed. Don’t you agree?” Prey as he was to conflicting emotions, Grobert finally nodded.
“Very well then. Return to Captain Charbonnier and tell him that we are bound for Cherbourg and that you have brought him wine with which to celebrate. Has he one pistol or two?”
“He has one in his hand, the other tucked into his belt.”
“That being so, you must take two glasses of wine, one for yourself. Push the blanket aside and enter the magazine with a full glass in each hand. Throw the wine quickly over each pistol to wet the priming. Then step aside. I shall be just behind you. Is that clear?” Grobert nodded and Delancey pocketed two glasses and an opened bottle, half full. They went down to the magazine once more. Delancey picking up a belaying pin on the way. When near the magazine, Delancey took off his shoes, poured the two glasses of wine and handed them to Grobert, telling him by gesture to enter the magazine. Delancey followed him silently and heard him identify himself.
“It’s Grobert here, captain. We are under way for Cherbourg with a fine breeze. The war is over and we are celebrating. We have all been drinking your health as a hero but we feel that you should drink too. I have brought you a glass of wine.”
“Thank you, Grobert,” he heard Charbonnier say. “A glass of wine would be welcome.”
Grobert pushed the curtain aside and there was a scream of rage—the single word “Assassin!” Springing forward, Delancey brought the belaying pin down with all his force. There was a satisfying thud and the unconscious man fell to the deck.
Delancey hauled him out of the magazine, disarmed him, closed the door and locked it, pocketing the key.
“And now,” he said to Grobert, “we’ll join our friends in the great cabin. Perhaps we have earned a drink ourselves.”
The Merlin was entering the anchorage opposite St Peter Port with her prize astern and the Dove in company. It was an almost windless evening and the sea was glassy calm. Slowly the Merlin glided in under all sail, reflected as if in a mirror. “Boom!” went the first gun of her salute and the smoke billowed, hiding her from view as successive guns fired. When the smoke cleared she was to be seen once more at anchor, sails furled and a boat lowered. The Bonaparte dropped anchor at the same time but with less of a flourish. The ship would have to be restored to her owners and it was only a question of how and when. Mr Stirling could at least find consolation in the fact that her captain in the meanwhile was in irons. The Merlin’s boat was now approaching the steps near the town church and Delancey in the sternsheets could see that Captain Savage was among those on the quayside. The bystanders raised a cheer as Delancey stepped ashore and Savage met him at the top of the steps.
“Well done, Delancey!”
“But peace was made before the capture. She will not be condemned and I may be liable for damages.”
“Fiddlesticks! The preliminary articles have been signed but peace does not become effective in the Channel until twelve days afterwards. As from the 14th, tomorrow, all prizes must then be restored to the owners. Your prize of today belongs to the captors and three-eighths of its value belong to you; a pretty useful sum if the ship and cargo are as valuable as they look. A capture made after midnight would have landed you in trouble but a capture this morning was perfectly legal. It was touch and go, Delancey, but you are home and dry.”