‘Perhaps I have.’
‘There can be no doubt of it.’
‘In least I cannot come to further personal disgrace.’ A breath, held in, then: ‘That was the cause of my dismissal from the parish, you see. Personal disgrace.’ He shook his head, and clearly wished to continue with his revelations, but James:
‘Well, I must find out the speed of the ship, I fear, and how she lies, and make my notations.’ With an exhalation of breath, as if reluctant to break up the conversation. ‘Duty calls. I will convey your very welcome intelligence about the fever to the captain, at the change of the watch, Mr Dart. Thank you again, and goodnight to you.’ And he went forrard to the binnacle, feeling relief, and calling for the duty mids to attend him.
The acting surgeon, left on his own at the flag lockers, sat quietly for a time and then went below to care for his patients.
At the change of the watch James went below to the great cabin, and found the captain already awake, drinking tea in his nightshirt. He conveyed the acting surgeon’s opinion that the outbreak of fever was now on the wane.
‘He is certain?’
‘I would not say certain entire, but the signs are greatly encouraging.’
‘Hm.’ A swallow of tea.
‘You do not find them encouraging, sir . . . ?’
‘What? No.’ Distractedly, then: ‘Well well, it’s simply that I find it very difficult to allow myself to believe that anything at all will go right with this commission. And Dart ain’t a surgeon. He is a surgeon’s mate, or as we used to call them when I was a mid: “the butcher’s apprentice”.’
‘Your wound is healing, ain’t it, sir?’
‘What?’ Touching his bandage. ‘Well well, it ain’t stinking of gangrene, in least.’
‘He has had an education, you know.’
‘Dart? What – brief, sing-song tutoring at some damned dame school, in infancy? That ain’t an education.’
‘You have not conversed with him, while he dressed your wound?’
‘Nay, I have not. What could we discuss, good God?’
‘For what it is worth, in my estimation he could pass for surgeon tomorrow, and serve in any ship with distinction. He is very far from the ignorant man you suppose him to be.’
‘Well well, if you say—’
‘And I for one believe him about the fever.’ James, running on. ‘My wound heals, as does yours, sir. That is all the proof I need that he knows what he’s about. I trust him just as I trusted Thomas Wing. By result.’
‘Now then, look here, I never said the fellow was a fool. He – he has done tolerable well since Empson died, but I cannot be guided by his opinion alone. He is only acting surgeon.’
‘Then will you go into the lower deck yourself, sir?’
‘I am not a qualified medical man, neither. I can be of no use to sick men.’
‘It would cheer all of the sick-berth men to see their captain, sir. And you could see for yourself the recovering fever cases.’
‘What you mean is that I have neglected my duty, hey?’
‘Nay, I meant nothing of the kind.’
‘I have kept away from the sick berth quite deliberate, because I did not wish to catch a fever myself. I am the captain of this ship. I must remain hale, and in full possession of my strength and my faculties, if ever we are to reach safety.’
‘Yes, sir, and that was sound sense – so long as the fever raged. But now that it is fading and receding, do not you think—’
‘No, I do not.’ Over him, forcefully. ‘We have only the unsupported opinion of the acting surgeon that the danger is past.’
‘Yes, sir. No doubt you are right to be cautious. The men must be wholly returned to health before they may be returned to duty. I do see that.’
Rennie drank off his tea, and went into his quarter gallery. Presently he emerged, drying his face with a clean towel.
‘Yes, well well, I have considered what you said just now, James.’ A sniff, and he dried his neck and ears.
‘Yes, sir?’
‘Yes, I have. I will make an inspection of the sick berth before breakfast today. I wish to discover if there is men recovered sufficient to be added to the watch bills. In usual I should wait until divisions, but in a matter so important as this I cannot afford to wait even a minute longer than I can help. If what Dart says is true, there may be men ready to resume their duties almost at once.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘And then I will like you to eat breakfast here with me.’ He threw the towel over the back of a chair, and with renewed energy in his step returned to his sleeping cabin to dress. From the doorway:
‘Cutton! More tea! Cheerly, now!’
*
Expedient had altered course and had been sailing due west several days, and now lay at 42 degrees and 17 minutes north, and 55 degrees and 29 minutes west. She was still more than 900 miles east of Boston, and well south of St John’s. The nearest point of land by calculation was Sable Island.
Fever had diminished in the ship to the degree that no man had died of it recently, and there had been no further cases at all. And all those that had succumbed but had not died were now recovering well, and some had even returned to duty.
Rennie summoned James again to the great cabin, to dinner.
‘We never did have that gunroom dinner, did we, James?’ As they sat down.
‘Gunroom dinner . . . ? Oh, yes, I recall. No, sir, we did not. Events intervened. In course we should arrange it as soon as you like, and—’
‘No no, I was not chiding you. I should have proper dinners here in the great cabin. Officers, middies, a full table, now that there is some semblance of normal life returned to the ship.’
‘Yes, thank God, we are nearly free of the fever.’
‘Ay, by the time we reach Boston we will be free of it, entirely free, and therefore able to land without quarantine.’
‘Yes, sir. I – I have been pondering our arrival.’
‘Have ye?’ Pouring wine. ‘Well?’
‘Well, sir – surely we cannot just sail into Boston Harbour and blithely drop anchor? What is our purpose? We have no official business there.’
‘No, no official business.’ Nodding, pushing the bottle toward James across the table. ‘But as we are an independent ship of the Royal Navy, unattached to any fleet, why cannot we pay a friendly visit to a leading American port, and take in provisions, finish all of our repairs, and so forth? After all, England ain’t at war with America, and Boston of all American cities is the least likely to resent our arrival.’
‘Was not Boston the place where the revolution began?’
‘To be strictly accurate it was Lexington, I believe, although I grant you, the notorious “tea party” took place at Boston, ay. But good heaven, all that is far behind us, now. Bostonians like and admire England, now.’
‘Sir, if your earlier surmises were correct, as you expressed them to me, and Captain Broadman and his passenger have connections with revolutionary France, then there must probably be powerful elements in Boston society ready to help them in that cause, else why have they come? Did not you say there were people in Boston who hated England with a passion? Surely that cannot be the same as liking and admiring, can it? The two things ain’t reconcilable.’
‘Fill your glass, James.’ Mildly.
‘Oh . . . yes. Thank you, sir.’ James dutifully filled his glass, but did not immediately drink.
‘Yes, you have merely posed the same question I wish to know the answer to myself. You recall, I said we should go ashore and seek out that answer?’
‘Yes, sir, I do recall that. And I said – if you recall, sir – that I did not much like the notion of again being a spy ashore in a foreign country. But leaving that aside a moment . . . what if Terces ain’t there, after all?’
‘Well well, let us deal with one question at a time, hey? Until we reach Boston we will assume that Terces is there. And if she is, then we will have met our ob
ligation to Mr Mappin, and Their Lordships, by discovering her final destination. We may either send a dispatch by a merchant ship, or return to England ourselves with the intelligence. I favour the former, since as you know I believe our obligation don’t end there. We owe it to ourselves to discover more, given the very heavy price we have paid in this commission. That ain’t spying, not at all. It is merely searching out the truth.’
‘Owe it to ourselves?’
‘In course it ain’t only ourselves, James. It will be in the nation’s interest, in addition, if we can discover more.’
James nodded, drew breath, then said nothing.
‘Drink your wine.’ Rennie drank from his own glass, with evident pleasure.
James took up his glass and drank it off, in order to dispense with the harsh acid taste all at once, rather than in a series of polite sips. He set the glass down with a hearty thud, and just managed not to wince.
‘Ahh . . .’ In feigned appreciation.
‘Excellent, ain’t it?’ Rennie refilled his own glass, and again pushed the bottle.
To please him – because he had difficult things to say to the captain, that must be delicately put – James poured a little more of the wine into his glass, and pushed the bottle back. A moment, then:
‘Sir, may I speak frankly?’
‘By all means.’ The bottle. ‘I hope that y’will always be candid with me, James, when we talk together like this.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Another pause, and:
‘We do not know anybody at Boston, we shall be strangers there. If we proceed beyond our orders, if we exceed them as you suggest, sir, do not we run the very great risk of undermining the whole purpose of our commission? Of endangering our ship, and ourselves?’
‘Every day at sea in a ship of war is a risk, James, every watch, every glass. We are sea officers, obliged to take such risk and face such dangers as we may find by our warrants of commission.’
Aware that he was being deflected, and warned, James cleared his throat, and nodded. And persisted.
‘Yes, in the ordinary run of things at sea, in course that is true, sir. What troubles me is how we may justify taking very great additional risk – ashore.’
Rennie opened his mouth to speak, but James continued before he could.
‘Sir, hear me out, I beg you. We have sustained very considerable damage to the ship, as you have acknowledged, leave alone injury and death among the people, fever and mutiny, and near despair. I ask you, in all candour, in view of all these things – have not we done our duty, and suffered enough? Will not Their Lordships look askance at us, weakened as we are, if we seek to interfere in this matter, ashore in a foreign land, where we have no authority to act, and nothing beyond conjecture to act upon?’
‘You persist in talking of America as if it was remotest Araby, or Africa. A foreign land?’ Raising his eyebrows. ‘Our former colonies, with whom we maintain friendly relations in all distinctions – trade, commerce, and so forth?’
‘Sir, forgive me, but I must now be very direct.’
Rennie put his head on one side – an ominous quirk of attentiveness James recognised and understood. He persisted.
‘In little, I think we should return to England as soon as we are able, whether or no we find Terces at Boston.’
‘And so we shall. We shall return.’ A sniff, and he straightened his head, sat back in his chair and regarded James a long moment. ‘When we have found out the truth.’
‘I see.’ Quietly. ‘And if Terces is not there, at Boston . . . ?’
‘In the unlikely event she ain’t – then we will continue to search for her elsewhere, until she is found.’ A menacing little grimace of a smile, then: ‘Cutton! Bring our first remove, as quick as you like!’ And Captain Rennie drank off his wine.
*
Terces was not at Boston.
Expedient arrived on a sunny morning, in light airs, the sea glittering under a high blue sky as the ship passed between Deer Island on the north and Long Island on the south. Expedient observed full maritime protocol, followed all the formalities, was visited by the port authorities – including the quarantine officer – in their boat, and cleared, and given permission to enter the inner harbour and drop anchor at a designated mooring number. The port agent, to whom they at once applied, was able to provide Captain Rennie and his officers with the names of appropriate victualling agents, and a shipyard that could supply such matériel as they might need, and artificers, should they be required.
While these things were being arranged, and he busied himself ashore in the port, a message came to Captain Rennie from a Mr Leyton Hendry. Would he and his officers care to come to Mr Hendry’s house on Oak Street, at Beacon Hill, for dinner? The message was delivered to Captain Rennie by a black servant in livery.
‘Mr Hendry’s carriage will attend you here at the dock, suh, at five o’clock this evening, if you is willing . . . ?’
‘Willing? Yes – yes, indeed. We are most willing, say to him, with my compliments and thanks.’
Rennie returned to Expedient in his launch. Another boat had been sent from Expedient to traverse the harbour, and venture into the Charles River. There was no sign of Terces. The port agent had known nothing of her, nor had any of the other men ashore with whom Rennie had dealt during the course of the day.
‘Terces? Don’t know of any such ship, lately.’ Heads shaken. ‘She ain’t been here to Boston, Cap’n Rennie.’
‘There is no trace of her anywhere, sir,’ Lieutenant Hayter greeted Rennie as the captain came up the side ladder into the ship. ‘We have searched very thorough. We even ventured to speak to the officers of a small armed brig on the Charleston side. They knew noth—’
‘A naval brig, d’y’mean?’ Over him.
‘No, sir. I was informed by the officers that there is no American navy now, it was stood down following on the war, and the ships sold out of the service. What remains is simply former officers manning armed vessels for merchant protection and the like.’
‘Ah. Hm. And they had had no sight of our pursuit?’
‘None, sir.’
‘Ay, well well, it would appear that either she has not come here, or . . .’
‘Or?’
‘Perhaps she may have come under another name, and has already gone away.’
‘You think that likely, sir?’
‘I think it is certainly possible, even probable.’
‘Well, I expect anything is possible.’ His tone neutral.
Rennie looked disapprovingly at James’s working rig, made a face, and: ‘You must shift out of that abominable piratical disguise and into your dress coat, James, if y’please.’ And he told his lieutenant about the invitation to dine at Beacon Hill.
‘Is this gentleman known to you, sir? Mr Hendry?’
‘Nay, he ain’t. But when I have heard “Beacon Hill”, which I am told is the finest district of Boston, I knew we could expect a splendid dinner, and I did not hesitate.’ Looking at his pocket watch: ‘Come, James, y’must shake a leg. We are to be at the dock at five o’clock, in five-and-twenty minutes. Mr Hendry is sending his carriage.’
‘Is he, by God?’ An appreciative little jerk of the head. ‘Very good, sir. I shall make haste, by all means.’ Unwinding the blue kerchief from his head, and going aft to the companion.
Ten minutes later both officers were in the boat, in their dress coats and cockaded hats, and wearing their tasselled swords. As they took their seats in the stern sheets and the duty mid called ‘Give way together,’ James thought but did not say that there must certainly be people in the port who would not look kindly on the blue dress coats, with proud white facings and gilt buttons, of the Royal Navy. Just to the north of the harbour, after all, lay Charlestown, burned to the ground in the late bitter war by British forces, and yet rebuilding.
As they were rowed in toward the wharf, Rennie was silent, apparently lost in his own thoughts, and so James remained silent. Having searched t
he harbour and found nothing, and and having got only blank looks when Terces was mentioned, and negative replies to questions, he was nearly certain – unlike Rennie – that she had never been at Boston. He did not believe she could have come there ‘under another name’. Nay, she had never arrived. Unless . . . the idea came to him like a pebble thrown in a pond, sending out wide ripples . . . unless she had indeed come and gone, and the whole port of Boston, collectively, was concealing the fact.
‘Ay, perhaps that is possible . . .’
‘Perhaps what is possible, James?’ Rennie, adjusting his scabbard.
‘Oh, nothing, sir. I was thinking aloud.’
‘About what?’
A scattering of spray from the blade of an oar. James ducked his head.
‘About what?’ Rennie, persisting.
‘I – I was thinking that it’s very possible we shall remember this evening a long time. How welcome it will be to eat good food at a steady table, on which the wine don’t tilt in the glasses, a table at which – very likely, sir – we shall be seated beside pretty women.’
‘Eh?’
‘Come now, sir, surely you will not tell me the thought of feminine company had not crossed your mind?’
‘Hm-hm, well well.’ A smile, a nod. ‘I will not deny it, James. I do not forget my dear wife in saying so, you mind me? But to be in the company of the opposite sex again, after long days at sea, lifts any man’s spirits, hey?’
‘It certainly lifts my spirits, sir.’
‘And somefing else, besides.’ Murmured forrard, and a suppressed guffaw. Another scattering of spray as oars dipped and lifted.
‘Silence, there!’ The middy. ‘Row dry!’
James kept his face straight, and dismissed all speculative notions about Terces for the moment. Tonight he would only endeavour – to enjoy himself.
*
Following on the American Revolution, and the subsequent War of Independence, the merchants and bankers of Boston decided upon a policy of wholesale renewal. Charleston to the north was already being rebuilt, and Mr Harrison Gray Otis’s Mount Vernon Company undertook the task of relandscaping and developing the hills of Boston itself, and vast quantities of earth were removed, carted, and used elsewhere along the riverbank. Beacon Hill became the epicentre of refurbishment. Great new houses were designed and built, and plans were laid for a new and imposing State House. The leading young architect among the several that tendered for the work was Mr Charles Bulfinch, whose practice quickly became the most favoured in the city. He secured the contract for the State House, proposing a magnificent golden dome, and designed many of the larger private houses. His chief rival was another coming man, Mr Napier Templeton. Mr Leyton Hendry had engaged Templeton to design and build his new house on Oak Street, with a view over the river. The house was newly completed, and Mr Hendry was eager to establish it as a place of social significance.
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