The Torrid Zone (The Fighting Sail Series) (16 page)

“Perchance it is a case of name, like nature?” Fraiser suggested.

“Indeed,” Kate agreed, frowning deeply as she pressed the cork home. “Though I have seldom met one quite so constantly miserable; if he doesn't make a change he will remain without friends, and die a sad and solitary death.”

Her eyes swept round to meet those of the fatherly sailing master. She felt a strange pang of conscience as she realised what she had said, and how her words could so easily apply to herself. Then it was as if something vital inside suddenly gave way; the tears rose up unasked, and quickly began to flow.

“Oh, my poor, wee child,” Fraiser said softly, before reaching out and holding her close against his chest.

––––––––

“Y
ou have certainly caught us on the hop, Sir Richard.” Colonel Robson, the lieutenant governor smiled, not unkindly, and motioned Banks to a chair. It was a pleasant room, and seemed almost obscenely spacious to one used to the confines of a frigate. Both doorways were easily seven feet high, and wide enough for two to enter side by side, while the ornately moulded ceiling must have stretched all of twelve feet above their heads. But, despite its apparent opulence, the actual furnishings were not of a high standard. The governor's desk, presumably cleared and polished for a new incumbent and now apologetically reclaimed by his deputy, might be imposing but lacked the sophistication of European pieces. The top of the walnut occasional table to Banks' right was also slightly warped, and his own chair creaked alarmingly under what he assured himself was less than average weight.

“I am sorry for any inconvenience, sir,” Banks said. As a senior Royal Navy post captain he outranked an HEIC lieutenant colonel, although Robson's position as acting governor made the distinction somewhat vague, and Banks' current dependency on the shore destroyed it completely.

“I suppose the death of a governor elect might be termed as such,” the older man mused. “Though between ourselves and from what I can collect, you are hardly to be blamed.”

Banks felt some of the tension in his breast lessen, and it was hard not to break into laughter. The scene at the quay was still fresh in his memory. A confusion of voices, with Lady Hatcher's being the most dominant. Accusations and complaints flying like grape shot, while he did his best to rebuff the more outrageous. And all the time attempting to explain to the group of confused dignitaries why their long-awaited leader was lying in a case of spirits on the orlop rather than receiving their greetings. In the end it had fallen to someone other than the lieutenant governor to rectify matters. Banks was still unsure of the man's identity, except that he was one of the members of council, and had both the good sense and authority to act quickly.

“You will take some refreshment, sir?” Colonel Robson asked, “Tea we have in abundance, and there is a remarkably good Mocha coffee that is grown on the island. Or maybe it is time for something stronger?”

Banks refused; all he wanted was to clarify the current problem, then discover what facilities were available to his ship. Once the troops had been dismissed it had not taken long for the shore party and those sent to welcome them to repair to the waiting carriages. Fortunately there were several of the latter, and the same intelligent official had seen to it that Lady Hatcher, along with her maid, were swiftly separated from the rest. Sarah was also absent, although she, like Banks, had been brought straight to Government House, an ornate building enclosed within an embrasured wall that housed the official offices. She was now with the lieutenant governor's wife, whereas Banks had no idea of Lady Hatcher's whereabouts. Last seen she was being all but pressed into a coach, and had been making a good deal of noise about it.

“I believe you mentioned Sir Terrance's death as being in action,” the lieutenant governor said. “That is unfortunate. I presume a place of safety had been provided for him?”

“Yes, Colonel. He was allocated quarters in the cable tier; his wife and staff were there and remained safe.”

“But Sir Terrance did not stay?”

“He came on deck upon hearing gunfire.”

Robson nodded, apparently satisfied. “I did not know the man of course, but can understand such a draw. It is probably better that we say no more for now; there will doubtless be an official enquiry, but I am sure you did not take your ship to battle lightly. I am equally certain you cannot be held responsible; if a government official outside of your service chooses to place themselves in danger, well, then it must be on their own head.”

Banks' feeling of relief grew; it was obvious that, despite its size and remote position, St Helena did not lack intelligent staff. The promise of an official enquiry hardly appealed, but that was more due to the time such a procedure was likely to take.

“And the action, Sir Richard: it was conclusive?”

“I am afraid not,” Banks confessed. “We ran into a battle squadron; three warships: a heavy French frigate and two corvettes. Over the space of several days I was able to severely damage the smaller craft, although the larger remains unharmed.”

“And she is in the vicinity?”

“Not sighted for some while, but the squadron was definitely heading south when first encountered.”

The lieutenant governor gave a brief smile. “It seems that any ship within five hundred miles will find us eventually – indeed, there is precious little elsewhere to go.”

“She is a large fifth rate, Colonel,” Banks told him. “But even if all three ships have survived, I doubt they could carry a sufficient force to threaten this island.”

This time Robson laughed out loud. “Oh we do not fear invasion, Sir Richard,” he said lightly. “There are troops a plenty hereabouts, with artillery enough for a small war. And as only one beach is suitable for a landing, and that stays protected by more metal than is carried by one of your liners, we can remain relatively secure for some while.” His smile faded. “It is rather the oncoming shipping season that concerns me. Even alone, a powerful frigate would be a damnable nuisance, and three as you describe might cost us a small fortune. The Navy will sort it out, no doubt, although of late they have been inclined to rather abandon convoys further north. You could not meet her once more in your ship I suppose?”

Banks' mind went back to that final deadly broadside; in some ways it was unfortunate that the action had not continued for longer. If
Scylla
had been able to inflict even some minor damage on the enemy he would feel a good deal more confident: as it was she had received, but not delivered. It was purely psychological, of course, but that, combined with the Frenchman's rate and accuracy of fire, had instilled an almost supernatural quality onto his adversary. And if that was his impression, he dared not consider what the lower deck, with their predilection for tall tales and superstition, would be making of it. Even now legends might be forming based on what was probably just another French warship that happened to get in a couple of quick and lucky strikes. “Of course I would be happy to take my ship to battle again,” he said, in as neutral a tone as he could manage. “But
Scylla
is badly damaged, and will require considerable repair before that can happen.”

A tap at the side door interrupted any reply from Robson, and heralded another arrival. Banks was pleased to note it was the efficient official encountered earlier.

“Ah, Henry, so glad you were able to join us,” the lieutenant governor said, standing up and indicating Banks. “I don't think I had the chance to make any official introductions before. Henry Booker, Secretary to the Council: Sir Richard Banks, Captain of his Britannic Majesty’s ship,
Scylla
.”

The two men greeted each other formally and Banks was impressed by Booker's straightforward look and firm handshake. He was a man of late middle age, and on a station such as St Helena, might be considered to be at the end of his career. But Booker clearly had an alert mind and had already demonstrated both his efficiency and personal authority.

“Henry has the office next door though spends much of his time in here with me. He has been indispensable since the departure of Governor Brooke,” Robson explained. “Frankly we have all been putting in long days, and were rather looking forward to a rest, though it appears we shall have to continue a while longer,” he added, awkwardly.

“Forgive me for not arriving sooner, I have been entertaining Lady Hatcher,” Booker said, as all three sat down. “She was a mite upset, as I think you will have gathered.”

“Sir Richard and I have discussed the matter briefly,” Robson murmured. “I think we can save anything further for the official enquiry.”

“Of course,” Booker agreed. “I have settled the good lady at Plantation House. That is the governor's official country residence,” he explained to Banks. “The alternative was to have her here, and some distance seemed to be preferable in the circumstances.”

All were in total agreement with the last point. Even to Banks it was patent that Lady Hatcher's presence at what was clearly the centre of government for the island could only be an embarrassment. He was also impressed that Booker had acted so quickly, and without bothering Robson. “She has her maid of course and Major Morris, of the Artillery, who was related to her late husband. He is with her now and doing a good job in keeping her calm. Be assured, she will not be neglected,” the secretary added with a degree of consideration, even though all were well aware that no one with such a personality as Lady Hatcher's could ever be condemned to such a fate.

“Doubtless arrangements can be made to remove her possessions from your ship in due course, Captain?” Robson asked.

“I was assuming she would be returning to England in
Scylla
,” Banks said, striving once more for an impersonal tone.

“Indeed she may,” Booker replied, while still apparently considering Banks' statement. “Though the shipping season is but a few weeks hence, and it might be more pleasant for her to travel back in one of the Company's Indiamen, than a warship. Besides,” his strong blue eyes seemed to twinkle as he continued, “I would judge her not to be the easiest of passengers.”

Once more Banks was impressed; Booker appeared as perceptive as he was quick to react, although in Lady Hatcher's case perhaps deep insight might not be required.

“I will call a meeting of Council tomorrow morning,” Robson said, taking control once more. “There is much to discuss, advising the Honourable Board of Directors of Sir Terrance's death, for one. And we shall have to see about repairing your ship, Sir Richard; as well as reporting on this blasted Frenchman. What is the extent of
Scylla
's damage?”

“Holed below the waterline, Colonel. I was to enquire of your facilities.”

“We have no dock of any description, Captain,” Booker told him. “But are efficient enough at carrying out repairs afloat. I shall ask the superintendent to attend tomorrow's meeting and you may speak with him.”

“And afterwards, I wonder if I might entertain you and Lady Banks during your stay here?” Robson interrupted. “We were to have offered you a place at Plantation House and indeed were intending to dine there tonight. That will have to be cancelled out of respect, of course, but my own country residence is not five miles from here, and my wife and I would be delighted to accommodate you, and any of your officers you would care to name.”

Banks thanked the lieutenant governor, even though he had been looking forward to returning to
Scylla
with Sarah and spending their first evening away from Lady Hatcher.

“You did intend staying ashore, I presume, Captain?” Robson asked.

Now he was taken further aback; he had assumed the invitation was for a meal, not accommodation “I, I had not considered...”

“I have a house not far from the colonel's and have already offered your surgeon and lieutenant quarters,” Booker told him. “They are obviously awaiting your permission, but it really would make things so much easier if you were all on hand, as it were.”

Banks' mind went back to
Scylla
. She was still leaking steadily, although the damage would be under less pressure now they had found a sheltered anchorage. Caulfield was the only commissioned officer aboard, but he should be able to deal with any immediate problems. He would organise a guard boat as a matter of course and, as she was under the protection of heavy shore batteries, the ship should be safe from even the most aggressive of seaward attacks. But still the prospect of abandoning his command did not come easily. “I have to consider the possibility of the Frenchman finding us,” he said.

“Governor Brooke did much during his time here,” Robson told him. “Amongst many projects he initiated a series of look-out points, and a system of signalling that seems to work adequately enough. During the day we can spot a ship up to eighty miles off, and at night there are two picket boats that patrol Chapel Valley Bay. I think you will find your ship will remain unmolested,” the lieutenant governor added, with just a hint of condescension.

“The anchorage is also safe from any storms – not that one is due,” Booker said. “Indeed no ship has foundered off our coast since the British took possession.”

Banks found himself smiling. “My wife and I would be delighted, Colonel,” he said, then, turning to the secretary “And if you are sure the presence of my men will not be too much trouble, Mr Booker?”

“None whatsoever; my daughter lives with me and grows powerful lonely outside of the shipping season. I am certain your officers will be welcomed greatly, especially if they have any news of Europe.”

“Then I will leave you to make arrangements,” the lieutenant governor said briskly. “Perhaps you could help Sir Richard signal his ship, Henry?”

Banks stood and followed Booker out of the office.

“I really cannot thank you enough for what you did today,” Banks said awkwardly. “And for agreeing to accommodate my officers, of course.”

“As I have stated, Sir Richard, I am more than happy.” Then Booker's expression hardened. “Though I should perhaps add a word of caution,” he continued, more guardedly. “The official enquiry would not normally present problems, but I gather Lady Hatcher does not intend to make things easy. As secretary to the council I can hardly encourage you to speak out of turn, but it might be better if we find time to discuss some of the details of her husband's death in private, and prepare for any allegations she might be intending to make.”