Devil to Pay (30 page)

“Captain Moss tells me, sir, that you claim to be master of a lugger out of Poole and Guernsey and that you have been in touch with Lieutenant Delancey, who is ashore somewhere in Spain. You believe, I gather, that Delancey hopes to gain information about the intended movements of the Spanish fleet. It that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How far has his mission succeeded?”

“I have no means, sir, of knowing. He went ashore near Bayonne and plans to reach Cadiz. I would suppose, sir, that any intelligence he can secure will come from Cadiz itself.”

“He will be lucky if he is still alive. We cannot judge of his success but our inshore frigates report some movement in Cadiz which might mean that Langara was about to sail—or might again mean nothing. We shall know more, I am confident, in a few days time. In the meantime, how is Delancey to escape from Spain? He is too good an officer to lose.”

“I have a rendezvous, sir, on the coast just south of Cadiz. That is the place where he hopes to re-embark.”

“I am astounded, sir, at what Delancey seems willing to attempt. We must bring him away safely if we can. Confiding in you to do your utmost, I would suggest that you stay on the rendezvous or return there at intervals for another three weeks after the last date. To enable you to do this I shall detach a frigate to cover the operation, Captain Norris of the
Medusa
is familiar with that coast and I shall give him the necessary orders.”

“Thank you, sir. I should be more hopeful of success if I had a Spanish interpreter.”

“I'll see what I can do.” The rear-admiral turned to his secretary and told him to make inquiries. He then thanked Sam Carter for his services, to which Sam replied with thanks for the admiral's help.

“I hope, sir, that Captain Delancey will be able to thank you in person after Langara has been defeated.”

“I hardly know whether I shall meet that young officer. Be so good, therefore, as to give him this message from me: ‘If he continues to serve with the devotion and resolution he now displays he should some day reach high rank in the navy.' There is too much reason to apprehend, however, that he is dead by now. Should he have survived, however, and should he return from his present hazardous enterprise, I predict for him an outstanding career. Tell him that, Mr Carter, and convey to him my thanks and good wishes.”

An hour later there arrived on board the
Marguerite
a character called José Alvarez of Trinidad, an ordinary seaman from the
Ajax.
Spanish was certainly his first language but his grasp of English was quite sufficient for all ordinary purposes. He had been given some idea of what was wanted and made no difficulties about going ashore in Spain. All he wanted in return for this service was a discharge from the navy Of life on the lower deck he had plainly had enough! Once on land, he confessed, he meant to stay there.

The
Dove
parted company from Rear-Admiral Griffin's squadron that evening and began a cautious night approach to the fishing village of Léon. The frigate
Medusa
kept just within sight, ready to rescue the lugger in case of need. Delancey could not as yet have reached the rendezvous but Sam Carter wanted, first of all, to establish himself locally in the character of smuggler, a process essential to the rescue. His one fear was that José Alvarez, when landed, would vanish for good. He sent for him and explained that a fortune was to be made in smuggling and that it was now José's opportunity to set himself up as a contraband agent in Léon. Were he to settle there, Sam insisted, smugglers from Guernsey and Alderney would call at regular intervals and land goods which were unobtainable in Spain. In cooperation with Davila, it would be the agent's task to warehouse the goods for England and distribute the cargoes landed at Léon. He and Davila would need, of course, to maintain a friendly relationship with the local authorities. There would be hard work at first and even, quite possibly, some moments of anxiety, but José Alvarez would end as a reputable and wealthy merchant, a better fate than becoming a mere stevedore and far better than joining the ranks of the unemployed.

Alvarez was suspicious at first and slow to convince. He had to hear each explanation at least three times, responding each time with the same objections. He agreed at last when Sam hinted that he would have a bad time at sea if he was known to have refused this opportunity.

Sam doubted, in fact, whether Alvarez had enough business experience to fill the agent's role. He had never, apparently, been more than a ship chandler's clerk at Port of Spain. He was at least literate, however, and able to do simple arithmetic and the opportunity was there for someone. Alvarez was thus given a motive for keeping in touch with the
Dove.
He would not simply vanish (Sam hoped) but would spy out the land and report progress through the channels of communication which Sam meant to set up. After studying the chart Sam had decided to land Alvarez at a point just south of Léon and to do this just before dawn. He would then sail on southwards and return the following night. If all were safe, Alvarez would make a signal to that effect and the
Dove
would enter the harbour. This would be on the l4th September, the day previous to that chosen for the first rendezvous with Delancey. There was no prearranged plan for making contact but it was obvious that Delancey would recognize the
Dove
if she were there and inquire after her if she were not. Sam had come away from the interview with Admiral Griffin in a mood of stern resolve, feeling that he was present at a possibly historic scene. If there was any chance of bringing Delancey safely away he resolved that it should be and must be done.

Alvarez was landed by boat on a rocky shore before dawn on the 13th September. It was nearly calm, luckily, or the landing might have been hazardous. Then the
Dove
sailed slowly on, with the frigate shadowing her from a distance. On her return the following night there was a light signal from the point at which Alvarez had landed and Sam sent the boat in again. Alvarez told Mr Evans that he'd made contact with Señor Davila, that there was no garrison at Léon and that the local Spaniards were eager to do business. Some bribes would have to be paid to customs officers and police but there would be no real difficulty The
Dove,
under French colours, could safely enter harbour on the morning's tide. This decided Sam's policy but gave a new urgency to the problem that had been on his mind: what to do with his two French prisoners. He decided to tell them frankly what was worrying him:

“I realize, gentlemen, that you want to return to duty. It is right that you should do so and I have no wish to hold you as prisoners. On the other hand, you will have to account for your absence and will have to describe how you came to be captured, what treatment you have received and how you were freed or else came to escape. I cannot take you into Cadiz, despite anything I may have said about it. Tell me what you think I should do.”

Jean Berthier must have been expecting this question for he eventually produced his own solution. Let the two of them escape and they would swear to report that the
Dove
had gone on to the Mediterranean. The success of this scheme would depend upon their falling in with a local craft bound for Cadiz. Sam accepted this idea, ordering his men to keep a sharp look-out for a boat that would serve the purpose. He also arranged with the captain of the
Medusa
that twice lowering the tricolour on board the
Dove
should be the signal for the frigate to give chase as if the
Dove
were hostile. When a suitable fishing vessel was sighted the
Dove
sailed to intercept her. When fairly alongside the heavily laden boat the
Dove's
crew began a pantomime negotiation over the purchase of her catch. Since the lugger was under French colours the Spanish fishermen, numbering five, were treated as allies. While the bargaining took place Sam made the prearranged signal to the
Medusa
unseen by the Spaniards who were having linguistic difficulties. The negotiations, conducted on one side in Guernsey French, were being prolonged to the point of frustration.

So absorbed was everyone in the discussion that the approach of the
Medusa
from to windward was apparently unnoticed. The frigate finally fired a gun, which produced panic aboard the
Dove.
The attention of the crew, concentrated until now on the fishing boat, was suddenly transferred to the frigate. Incoherent orders were shouted, instructions were given and cancelled and there was a general tendency to collect, jabbering and pointing, on the windward side of the lugger. Apparently unnoticed in all this confusion, the two French officers scrambled furtively, baggage in hand, into the fishing boat, offering money and pointing to Cadiz. At the same moment, the
Dove
made all sail in her southward flight, another cannon shot spurring her crew into a frenzy of activity. The lugger held her own against the frigate for speed and the scene, from the point of view of the Spanish fishermen, was that of a French vessel escaping from the clumsy pursuit of the enemy. They hoisted sail and headed for Cadiz, well content to accept money for returning to their home port as they had anyway been intending to do.

At a suitable moment the
Medusa
gave up the chase and allowed the
Dove
to pursue her voyage to Léon. Her arrival was evidently expected for a boat came out to meet her with Alvarez on board. He was able to assure Sam Carter of his welcome to a berth alongside the port's tiny breakwater. Davila and other local businessmen were delighted at the prospect of trade and contraband and the local authorities were not inclined to ask questions about the
Dove's
precise port of origin. Alvarez, who seemed to be a better businessman than Sam had supposed him to be, was full of information about the place and about the imports which would be especially welcome there. The local merchants, it seemed, were more than ready to do business.

By the evening of 14th September, Sam Carter felt that his task was all but accomplished. His vessel was at the appointed rendezvous and was well received there. He had his appointed agent at Léon who was busy making himself known to the principal inhabitants. If Delancey were to arrive on the following day, as arranged, even as a fugitive and in disguise, Davila would hear of it immediately. Delancey would be able to embark at once and the
Dove
could sail with the next tide. If there was any difficulty or need for force, the
Medusa
was there in the background. If, finally, Delancey failed to appear, the
Dove
could remain where she was for another week or more. There was plenty of scope for negotiation and exchange of samples, every excuse for bargaining and gossip. The question was whether Delancey would actually keep the rendezvous. Sam had to confess that the odds were heavily against it.

There was, in fact, no sign of Delancey on the 15th of September, no news of his exploits or rumour of his approach. When midnight came, the end of the first appointed day, Sam came to the conclusion that his fears had been justified. Delancey had been killed or captured, most probably in France and just as any sensible man might have expected. If this were so, news might come of English spies arrested near San Sebastian. The faint possibility remained that Delancey was still making a dash for safety. If he were, and whether disguised as a gypsy or a priest, the
Dove
must be waiting for him. Meanwhile, Davila was hearing rumours from Cadiz. All the talk there along the waterside was that the Spanish fleet was about to sail. Stores were being shipped, crews were being exercised, ships were moving to new anchorages and all onlookers agreed that news of war might arrive any day. When news came, Langara would sail but whether heading north or south no one could say. Sam Carter settled down to wait.

C
OLONEL Diego de Altamirano sent for Delancey on the evening of the day after his arrest. He was escorted by the adjutant and four soldiers and found himself again in the commandant's office. The conversation which followed was in French.

“Good morning, Captain. I hope you slept well. How good of you to spare time to see me! Do please sit down. I should like to have a little talk with you if that would suit your convenience. Remain with us, Pedro, but tell your men to wait outside.” The soldiers went but Pedro remained behind Delancey's chair.

“Do you play chess, Captain?”

“No, Colonel. I am, however, a card player.”

“A good one, I have no doubt. So I need hardly tell you that the moves in many a game can be foreseen. We can, if we choose, go laboriously through the regular phases of the game, pawn by pawn or card by card. Among good players, however, it is the custom, as you know, to shorten the process by mutual agreement. The moment comes when a player will lay his cards on the table and say, ‘The remaining tricks are mine.' Only a novice will object and insist upon finishing the game by the ordinary sequence of play. As we are neither of us new to the game I propose that we lay our cards on the table.” Delancey bowed but said nothing. So the colonel continued as one who assumes that agreement has been reached.

“I could at this moment send to Bayonne and ask Captain Baudin for the loan of his colleague, Lieutenant Michelet. He could have a talk with your friend who wears the sergeant's uniform and the result would be his assurance that your sergeant knows nothing about the French army. He could have a talk with you and could tell me in five minutes that you speak French as a foreigner, that you are really English. I could, meanwhile, apply a little pressure to your other friends and one of them—I think the smaller of the two you left at the inn—would presently break down and tell me that your whole party was landed near Bayonne from an English man-of-war, that you had a skirmish with a courier and his escort, that you seized his coach and assumed your present disguise, that you had all been sent on a dangerous mission and one which might have succeeded had I been more of a drunkard or less of a soldier. I do not think that the two Englishmen could tell me more than this for that, I suspect, is all they know. I do not think that the two Frenchmen could tell me very much more; nor, for that matter, your one Spaniard with the colonial accent. The one point on which they would agree is that
you
are the leader and that you are an officer in the British navy, probably with the rank of captain. With a little trouble, with a little pressure, I could obtain so much information. May I assume that all this has been done? You see, I lay my cards on the table, saving time and saving your friends from—what shall I say?—discomfort.”