Spies and Subterfuge

by Christopher Hoare

  This black mood threatened to engulf him. It had never happened before—he had always maintained the most perfect equanimity through the most critical of trials in the past. He turned his back to the others and stared silently out into the bluster of wind and rain in the squall about them. What would he do if he learned that Roberta was still in Antwerp? What could he do?

  He had been right to bring her to the Netherlands. Elise said they had penetrated to the heart of Napoleon’s secrets. Roberta had been able to see everything, and with her experience, understand it. The mission was a success—as long as he could find her in the next few hours and then make all sail for the open sea. He had never been superstitious, but he made a firm resolve not to entertain another plan—any plan born of despair and ignorance—unless the vessel could not be found anywhere in the Westerscheld.

  Ahead, off the starboard bow, the squall began to thin. The dim shape of a small vessel materialised against the beating rain. He watched until he could assay a guess at its course. He turned. “Is that Nederlander?”

  Lieutenant Farley instructed the helmsman to change course a few points. “It is too distant to tell, My Lord, but we must draw nearer for certainty.”

  A fresh bluster of the squall blocked their view again before they drew near, but when it passed Lord Bond could see that the craft had brown sails, not white, and they were in poor condition. It wasn’t the Nederlander.

  He stared at the craft, another hoogaar, as it made for some destination unknown. Farley had the helmsman return to their previous course as a new gust of rain drenched them. Mr. Dashwood and two sailors were now busy in the bow, hauling the lead and calling the depths. Why had he married? Surely marriage was a penury if it should fill his life with baseless anxieties.

  Elise was in a cabin below. He had never fretted thus over her disappearances. He had always been aware that at any time she could succumb to the perils of her precarious existence—but his mind had always easily accepted the probability of her safe return. She was now in her bunk, sleeping off the exertions of her two day journey. He could easily go below and wake her with a lover’s embrace, but somehow he felt that would do little to ease his gloom.

  What had happened during those days and nights? She had brushed off his questioning, merely saying she had sent the carriage and driver back to Antwerp, and commandeered the chaise that pursued them. Perhaps best he didn’t know, she could be merciless when under threat—!

  What if she had decided to rid herself of the woman who threatened her relationship with him? Perhaps she hadn’t left Roberta at the river bank, but floating in the murky water. Perhaps he should go below at once. Interrogate her until she told the truth.

  “Sail ho!”

  He swung around and squinted his eyes until he discerned a shape in the falling rain before them. Farley stood close, staring through his telescope. “I think it is our quarry, My Lord.”

  He felt the need to grip the rail before him as he watched them change course to intercept the hoogaar—perhaps two nautical miles distant. He took the telescope from Farley’s hands to focus on the vessel—as if he could see who was aboard at this distance. “Raise the American flag, Farley. Let them see we are coming for them.”

  When they came up with the hoogaar, Farley turned the Reaper beam-on to the squalls to provide enough shelter for those aboard to climb safely to the weather deck. Lord Bond scanned the occupants to learn who was aboard—not relaxing his anxiety until Roberta emerged from the tiny cabin amidships.

  The rope ladder was let down to the hoogaar’s deck. Lord Bond doffed his hat to his wife and bowed, a courtesy she acknowledged with a smile and a wave of her hand. “Is everyone safe aboard?” he called.

  “We have everyone,” she answered as she urged Annie to climb the ladder. “Our two gentlemen are below—we have not yet been able to release them from their fetters. Midshipman Willis is also below—he took a musket ball in the arm.”

  van Ee appeared as the occupants climbed the ladder one at a time. He called up to Lord Bond. “We had best abandon the hoogaar, My Lord. The corvette that met the Reaper a week ago is somewhere astern, attempting to catch us. If it were not for the squalls, we would already be taken.”

  Lieutenant Farley came to the rail. “How far off is he?”

  “He was two miles behind as we took the southern bend of the estuary. We have not seen him for a half hour.”

  “Get everyone aboard Reaper and set the hoogaar on a course that might cause the corvette to chase it,” Farley ordered. “Is Willis fit enough to climb?”

  “With assistance he might manage it. And our two gentlemen must climb as one. They are shackled together.”

  At last, Roberta reached the deck and he gathered her into his arms. “Thank the Lord you are safe,” he declared. “Did you have to fight for the prisoners?”

  She shook her head. “But for the bravery of Captain McNab, there would have been more than the one shot that hit Willis. The Captain managed to clamber to his feet and knock down the three armed soldiers from behind with his fetters.”

  Willis and Piet, the cabin boy, arrived on deck next, a length of rope lashing them together. “The wounded must go below,” Roberta said. At that moment Elise appeared from the companionway, all her finery removed from her rough working dress and looking more exhausted than she had that morning. “Would you and Annie please take Willis, Elise? I will come down directly and we will change his bandage and settle him into a cot.”

  Elise nodded agreement as she took hold of the boy. “How was your escape from Antwerp, My Lady?”

  “Less perilous than yours, I’ll be bound. How did you shake off the man in the chaise?”

  Elise put an arm around Willis’ shoulders as Annie untied the rope holding him to Piet. “I gave him the chance to look into the carriage and see you were not there.”

  “And was he content to leave you then?”

  Elise smiled briefly. “I do not know if he was content.” She immediately turned away and took Willis to the companionway.

  Roberta turned to Lord Bond. “What do you think she meant by that, My Lord.”

  “I do not know, but I suspect you would not be wise to insist upon an answer.”

  At that moment Mr. Holmes and Captain McNab heaved themselves onto the deck. Everyone went to them and helped them stand. “Thank the Lord you are both safe,” Lord Bond told them.

  “Indeed, Julian,” Mr. Holmes said in a bitter tone. “We are safe, now, but were the cause of your hazarding your lady in this enemy land. How I rue the circumstance that caused your decision.”

  Roberta put a hand on his arm. “Do not blame yourself, my good friend. The most dangerous men in France were watching for us. That we are all safe here is a great accomplishment.”

  “Ay, but we are not yet safe,” Lieutenant Farley said. “The marines must work to remove your fetters—I need every able bodied sailor on deck. I caught a glimpse of a square rigger in the rain . . . quite close. As soon as Mister van Ee has the Nederlander trimmed and takes to the ladder, we must raise all sail and beat to windward. We are in a deadly race.”

  Roberta did not stay long below with Willis. Elise and Annie were quite competent to cleanse and bind his wound. She satisfied herself that the musket ball had not embedded itself in the muscle, so lessening the chance of a fatal infection, and took her leave of him

  Back on deck, she went to her husband and related all she had learned during Napoleon’s steam inspection. With good fortune, they would all reach England and safety together, but it was no more than prudent to ensure they both could convey the secrets to the Admiralty.

  All around them their crew worked constantly to trim the sails to every gust of wind. Not knowing if the corvette were close astern or losing ground on a wider tack made every moment seem but a false calm before he unleashed a broadside at them and destroyed their chance of reaching the open sea. They were only safe if they could keep Reaper more than a cannon shot away from the warship
.

  Lord Bond nodded at every secret she imparted. “That is excellent—I knew you were the person for the job. But how did you come to meet Madame Timmins?”

  “She came to me, of course. I would never have been able to penetrate the secrets without her. Dressing well and having her friend Colonel Riviere find a place for us was a brilliant plan . . . although we did not know how brilliant until the Emperor treated us with such great favour.”

  “Amazing. Amazing. What do you know of this Colonel?”

  “A member of the Génie Militaire.” She regarded his haughty expression critically. “I suspect the original information about Napoleon’s ironclad came from him. They are lovers, of course.”

  Her husband’s expression turned guarded. “I . . . I do not think you should listen to such—”

  “Oh, I assure you I have listened to a great many such. Some of them concern you. And when we are in more suitable circumstances we have a great deal of such and much more such, to discuss between us. I rather think the settling of these items of suchness are vitally important in order to establish this marriage on a sound footing. An even keel, one might say.”

  Lord Bond’s face soured. “What are you saying, my Dear? Are you presuming to criticize your husband? Do you not remember your marriage vows?”

  Roberta took a deep breath. “I assure you, Husband, that I remember my vows very clearly. I am merely asking if you remembered yours when you spent most of the night with Elise—in the self-same hotel where your wife awaited your return.”

  His face grew a horrified expression. He looked about at the crew working on the deck nearby. “Please do not quarrel while we are in public.”

  “I assure you, Husband, that I have no intention of quarreling. I am merely expressing my belief that when we are in private we have some serious matters to consider—if we are both desirous of ensuring our marriage be built on mutual respect and trust.”

  He looked away from her, scanning the deck and the shrouds as if he could find a respite from her complaints. “This is unheard of,” he muttered. “How could we be so much at odds . . .”

  At that moment a cry went up from the lookout. “Sail ho! Man-of-war on the stern quarter!”

  They swung around to see—as did everyone on the weather deck. The corvette appeared to be about two nautical miles distant, and sailing on a converging course. If they had come across the abandoned Nederlander it had not delayed them long. A cloud of gunsmoke went up from one of its bow-chasers.

  “Get back to work!” Lieutenant Farley shouted. “Tighten them topmast stays. Tighten that backstay. Every knot must count if we are to shake the bastard off.”

  Roberta watched for the fall of shot. Long seconds passed before she saw the splash amid the whitecaps. It was short, perhaps by as much as four cables—a wild bit of aiming, but remarkable for length.

  “If that’s the best he can do,” Lord Bond murmured, “we should be clear.”

  “At a mile and a half, that gun crew are no sluggards,” Roberta answered. “Only one hit in our rigging could bring us aback.”

  “Yes, but I doubt they well do as well again,” her husband answered. “But you must go below, my Dear. I do not want you where a chance shot could harm you.”

  Roberta wanted to stay on deck, where she could watch the chase develop but she recognised his need to take charge, to give her an order for her own safety. “I will ensure everyone below knows what is happening, My Lord. Please do me the favour of finding yourself a safe place to stand as well.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  A Race to the Sea

  Roberta returned to the lower deck and to where the redcoats were cutting off the two gentlemen’s fetters with a hammer and cold chisel. Mr. Holmes was freed first, but Captain McNab spoke between blows of the hammer that appeared to be causing him much pain.

  “Ah didnae have the chance afore . . . My Lady, but I wish ye . . . the heartiest of congratulations fer thy marriage.”

  “Why, thank you, Captain. I appreciate your sentiments.”

  Mr. Holmes met her eyes but did not speak. He gestured with a bloodstained hand toward the farther bulkhead and nodded. Understanding his intent, Roberta picked up some bandage and salve that had been placed in readiness and walked with him until they were out of earshot.

  He regarded her gloomily. “I do not wish to be a Jonah, My Lady, but I find it impossible to change either my opinion or the advice I endeavoured to give you before your nuptials. The most I can say is that I hope you will call upon me in the future should His Lordship cause you any distress or fail to provide the succour and comfort that belongs to you in the holy state you have accepted.”

  She took hold of his bloodied hand to dress the injuries administered by the poorly directed cold chisel. “Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I would like to assure you that I gave your advice every attention and consideration—but unfortunately the circumstances changed when I was needed ashore in the Low Countries. I hope I may still be considered your friend, despite my changed circumstances.”

  “Indeed, My Lady, it is your present circumstance that I fear is likely to cause you to need a devoted second in the duel of life before you.”

  “Good Heavens! Your words suggest His Lordship and I will live with daggers drawn. I must own that in the straightened circumstances of our duties in the Low Countries, we were not always comfortable or in a position to give our best attention to our married state. I fondly hope that the situation will be reversed, once we return to Britain’s soil.”

  “And I must profoundly wish that to be the case, but my brother has dealt a number of fair companions with less than their gender does deserve on past occasions.”

  “And I was not ignorant of that. During my recent sojourn in London I did not lack for acquaintances who thought it their duty to lay some evidence before me—but I will speak no more on this. We have married and I must hear and speak no slanders against him.”

  The afternoon wore on and Roberta fretted about being below where she could not judge their success in escaping the corvette. Two of the marines went above to watch and returned separately—one holding that the Frenchman was being left behind, while the other voiced the opinion that it was gaining upon them. Since both Mr. Holmes and Captain McNab had already taken stations on the weather deck she had little choice but to venture up herself and hope her husband would not notice her.

  From the weather deck, the squalls seemed to have moderated, but the wind still blew strongly from the west, necessitating frequent course changes as they tacked against it from one shore of the estuary to the other. After watching the distant corvette astern for some little time, Roberta could see that it made better progress toward them when Reaper was on the starboard tack than when they were on the port. Whether this indicated a fault in the trim of the Frenchman or themselves, she could not tell.

  She moved to a place near the bow, where she was less visible to her husband and looked ahead toward Flushing, as a few church spires and drifting smoke from many domestic fires. Her heart beat more comfortably as she noted that their present progress, if continued, promised to see them in the open sea before nightfall, and with every chance of meeting the Navy’s blockading ships by sun-up.

  After she had been there awhile, Mr. van Ee came forward to look at the coast ahead. “How is our lead holding, Mr. van Ee?” she asked him.

  “When we were last at our closest on opposite tacks, we were better than a sea-mile and a half apart,” he answered. “Should no ill circumstance befall us, we might cheer our success before dark. But I came to look at the harbour at Flushing. The last time I sailed past in Nederlander I could see a thirty gun frigate moored beside the mole.”

  “Let us hope it has since departed, or perhaps is undergoing some dockyard work,” Roberta said.

  Almost as she spoke, the sound of a cannon came from astern. A few seconds later came another report.

  “That is strange,” said van Ee. “They know they cannot harm u
s at this range.”

  However, the fire continued at regular intervals until van Ee left her to watch astern and Mr. Holmes and her husband came forward to scan Flushing harbour through a telescope. Lord Bond noticed her nearby but seemed too distracted to speak.

  “I see a large three-master,” he said as he continued to scan.

  “Mr. van Ee told me he saw a thirty-gun frigate moored there when last he was off-shore in Nederlander,” Roberta said.

  “Yes, that would answer,” he said.

  “Why the cannon fire?” Mr. Holmes murmured.

  Lord Bond closed the telescope with a loud snap. “A signal, by damn! The corvette is alerting the frigate captain of our approach.”

  “What can we do?” Mr. Holmes said.

  “Work like devils to pass the harbour before he can raise anchor,” Lord Bond said. “Come, we must get back to alert Farley.” He handed the telescope to Roberta. “Take this and keep an eye on the three master, my Dear. If he sets even one sail, call us. Farley must make his last full tack to the north and keep us on the south side of the estuary from then on.”

  They were not quite abreast of Flushing when Roberta saw the signs of men climbing the distant masts and of sails being let to fly. She sent young Piet, the cabin boy, astern to warn the officers.

  Almost all of them arrived instantly to watch as more sails of the frigate were let loose from their brails.

  “They are not very shipshape,” Lieutenant Farley observed. “A harbour guardship at Brighton would raise sail faster, but we will be pressed to make our next tack before they gain sea-way.”