The Hawk (37 page)

James stood silent, biting his tongue, breathing through his
nose.

'Wait a moment, though . . .' Sir Robert looked away to the
window, then back at James. 'Have you failed? Or was this
simply an exercise in deception? Hey? A scheme that allowed
you to simulate bold action, and at the same instant permit
Aidan Faulk to escape!'

'Permit him to escape . . . ?' James stared at him in
astonishment.

'Ah, yes. You simulate surprise with great skill, Mr Hayter,
but I see beyond your subterfuge! Yes, yes, now I do see!
Aidan Faulk is your friend, is not he? You sympathize with his
aims, and motives, do not you? The Oath of the Tennis
Court? The nobility of the "cause"? Hm? In little, you think
him justified in all his actions!'

'I do not, sir. You misjudge and malign me.' Barely able to
keep his voice steady.

'Do I, though? I think not, Mr Hayter. All the time during
this commission you have deceived us. You and Rennie both.
And now you are discovered and exposed.'

Rennie at last responded, his back straight, his gaze steady.

'I must ask you, Sir Robert, what you mean by that.
D'y'mean that I have deceived, or that I have been deceived?
Which, if y'please? I am not clear.'

'Do not dissimulate, Rennie. I warn you – both of you –
that if – '

'Do you mean to suggest that I have deceived
you
, Sir
Robert?' Rennie, over him.

'In course you have deceived me. You have both of you
deceived me and Their Lordships, the nation and the King!'

'In what way?'

'In what . . . ? By God, sir, you dare to ask me that?'

'I do dare, certainly. Further, I say that it is
you
that has
deceived.' Before Sir Robert could reply Rennie raised his
voice to fierce, carrying quarterdeck: 'In everything of this
affair, from the very beginning, ye've contrived to blackguard
me, and all of my endeavour – endeavour honourably
undertook!'

'Be quiet, sir!'

'I will not be quiet!
You
be quiet, damn your blood! Your
whole design has been deception, and hoodwink, and
commanding others to do your dark deeds, while you
skulk
behind! Aye,
skulk
, sir, like a rat in a sewer!'

James stared at Rennie in beginning comprehension, as Sir
Robert:

'Rennie, I warn you – '

'Nay, I warn you! Mr Scott! Mr Smuggler Scott! Mr
underhand, sticky-fingered, creep-in-the-dark and fill-yourpockets
bloody Scott! You wish to malign me and Mr
Hayter? You wish to bring charges of treason against us?
Hey! Then y'must wait your turn, sir. Y'must wait in line.
Because we are there before you. We'll bring a charge against
you! Aye, and ram it home double-shotted, too!'

Sir Robert was silent a moment under this onslaught, and
Rennie went on:

'Major Braithwaite, of the Board of Customs, will be eager
to hear the charge, I think. And Colonel Macklin of the
Marines, that is Lieutenant Hayter's intimate and colleague.
We will make detailed statements to both of these
officers. We will in addition write out despatches to Their
Lordships at the Admiralty, and send a fair copy to Sir
Garfield Kemp, at the Admiralty Court. We shall call a great
many witnesses – '

'To what?' Sir Robert interjected. He was now almost
preternaturally calm, and his voice was calm.

'To what! To your conduct, sir! We will smash, burn, and
sink you!'

'My
conduct
, gentlemen, has been exemplary, in the
nation's interest.' With quiet, unruffled emphasis.

'We will not send a boat, neither!' Rennie stood squarely,
his back straight, but he was beginning to bluster. 'We will let
you drown!'

'Ahh. Will you? When all of these charges are false, as you
know very well, and your threats empty? Even if you go to
Major Braithwaite, or Colonel – Macklin, is that his name? –
what can you give to them? What facts have yet got, to put in
your guns with your powder and shot? Hey?' He had not
raised his voice, but spoke as if making a polite enquiry about
Rennie's health.

'You will find out!' Rennie, stoutly.

'Hm. Your counter-attack has failed, Rennie, I think.' Sir
Robert calmly took a pinch of snuff. 'But you know . . .
gentlemen . . .' He snuffed, and employed his handkerchief.
'. . . I think I can help you, after all.'

'Help us?'

'Hm. Hm. Yes, I think so. We are – after all – on the same
side in all of this. Are not we?' An enquiring glance, tucking
away his handkerchief. 'I am therefore prepared to say
nothing of what happened at sea, to put aside all of our
differences, and allow you this . . . final opportunity.'

'Final – '

'To find Aidan Faulk and bring him back!'

Not long after, Rennie and James walked away from
Kingshill House, and climbed into their waiting gig. As they
took their seats, Rennie blew out his cheeks in relief:

'I was obliged to call the fellow's bluff, James – else we'd
have been skinned alive.'

'Did not he call yours, sir?' James took up the reins.

'He thought he did, by God. We got what we wanted by
allowing him to think so.'

'Yes, he gave us a damned near impossible task, and only a
week to achieve it.'

'In least we have saved our skins, James.' Reproachfully.

'I do not think they are saved quite yet, are they?'

'Well well, I don't know about you, James, but I have no
intention of losing mine. I am very attached to it.'

'Aye, well said, sir.' A grim little smile. 'Let us crack on,
then! There ain't a moment to lose!' He clicked his tongue,
slapped the horse's rump with the reins, and sent them
clattering towards the gates.

There are mornings in the English summer when heat comes
slowly streaming through the trees like a fine haze of dust on
the wind, and distance is given added depth by the
shimmering air, like a glimpse into the future. It was on just
such a morning that Lieutenant Hayter and Captain Rennie
drove away from Kingshill towards Portsmouth, with their
whole lives dependent on the following seven days. Aidan
Faulk must be captured, but was he still alive?

'Still alive, James? In course the fellow is alive. How could
Lark
have been sailed away, else?'

'She was not dismasted entire, sir. His crew could have
jury-rigged her and sailed away, simple enough, even when
their master lay dead.'

'Frankly I do not think that probable, James. The cutter is
his, and only a man of great determination and strong
leadership could have managed to spirit her away so quick,
when she was so gravely damaged.'

'You had not considered that she may have sunk?'

'I don't think she foundered. Nay, she limped away to
France.'

'Then we can never hope to find him, leave aside take him
a prisoner.' Shaking his head.

'We must try, whatsoever the odds against us, James.'

'Yes, sir, we must.' James clicked his tongue to encourage
the horse, and tapped its rump with the reins as it trotted on,
its tail lazily swishing. James was silent a moment, then: 'But
why France? Why not – England?'

'England! Don't be a bloody fool, James.'

'I hope that I am not, sir. Will not you hear me out? I can
make my case right well, I think.'

'Go on.' Dubiously.

'By the time we came to the bearing where we had left the
Lark
, the wind had veered to the south. You remember? This
would have aided her to make for England, not France. In
truth, her only hope would have been to run north, run
before the wind, in her reduced condition.'

'Well . . .'

'Now then, smuggling vessels oftentimes creep along the
coast to evade 'cise cutters, do not they? And then lie low, hid
in coves or little bays? Why should not the
Lark
be hid in just
such a place, at this moment? To carry out repair?'

Rennie looked at him, then looked away.

'Even Revenue officers themselves, wishing to disguise
smuggling vessels they have took as unofficial prizes, use
these little coves to hide them – eh?'

'Perhaps, perhaps. I think it unlikely
Lark
is hid in English
waters. She would have made for France, even with the wind
against her.'

'Why don't we put my speculation to the test, sir?
D'y'recall Major Braithwaite, of the Board of Customs? We
could enlist his help.'

'Braithwaite? Why? How?'

'He has a large force of men, and many informants, up and
down the coast. If we told him that we wished to apprehend
a certain person, whose cutter we believed to be lying along
the coast, a person perhaps connected to a fellow called Scott
– would he not at once wish to aid us?'

Rennie sniffed, glanced again at his companion, and
conceded:

'Well well, that is a possibility, I expect.'

'We could ask him to instruct his men, and his informants
– all of them – to keep a sharp eye open for such a cutter, and
to inform us immediate if they should sight her.'

'We could, aye. However, James, we may be wasting
valuable time – if
Lark
has gone to France.'

'Ain't it worth the attempt, though, sir? If she has gone to
France, then very probably we are lost. If she has not, and is
lying in an English cove, then in least we have a chance of
finding her.'

'Very well, James.' A nod. 'Very well. We'll go to Major
Braithwaite, and put it to him.'

'Very good, sir.' Gladly, and he urged the horse again with
the reins, and shouted: 'Come on, my beauty!'

'I have come to this meeting, gentlemen, against my better
judgement.' Major Braithwaite paused, his gaze moving from
Captain Rennie to Lieutenant Hayter and back. All three
stood in the narrow little parlour of the Pheasant, an inn on
the outskirts of Portsmouth, toward Bosham. 'Your message
to me, I must say to you, struck me as fanciful in tone, not to
say puerile.'

Again he opened the seal-broken fold, glanced at it, and
read:

As brothers in arms we can aid each other. If you desire
a favourable and fruitful outcome in the question of Mr
Scott, pray meet us at the Pheasant Inn at three o'clock.

Come alone, do not wear your uniform, and certainly
tell no one of your destination.

The Hawk

'Which of you is the Hawk?'

'Lieutenant Hayter,' said Rennie. 'That is his command,
d'y'see, but it was my notion. It was meant to add a distinctly
dramatic touch, to whet your interest.'

James nodded, glancing briefly at Rennie, then:

'At any rate, Major, you have come. You will like to help
us?' Indicating chairs. They all sat down at the cramped little
table.

'I do not yet know your proposal.' Looking about him.
'You might have chosen a more comfortable place to make it,
though.'

'It is small and out of the way. Here we will not be
overheard, nor overseen.'

'Indeed. There is no room for anyone else. Barely enough
for us.' Twisting in his chair, and peering behind. 'Is there a
servant girl, or a potboy, away at the rear?'

'We gave instruction that we was not to be disturbed,' said
Rennie. 'I have a flask, if you will like – '

'Nay, nay, let us proceed, if y'please.' Tapping the note. 'I
am here about Mr Scott. What do you propose?'

'We think that we may know his smuggling partners, and
how to apprehend them – the entire crew, and their vessel.'

'Yes?' The major's face was carefully neutral.

'Yes. However, we need to enlist your support.'

'In what way?'

'We need to discover exactly where the vessel lies, and – '

'Where it lies? Do not you know? I thought y'said – '

'Please, Major.' Rennie held up a hand. 'Hear us out, will
you? Their cutter – as we have direct reason to know – has
been badly damaged. It lies somewhere along the coast of
England, we believe not very far, either east or west of
Portsmouth.'

'Either east or west! Good heaven, this is nonsense!'
Angrily, making to rise.

'Nay, it ain't.' James, leaning forward. 'The cutter is called
the
Lark
. She has eluded all her pursuers over many months.
Perhaps you may have heard of her?'

'I have heard the name.'

'We think, we believe, the
Lark
is how Mr Scott gets his
brandy and tobacco into England. She is a big, fast cutter,
with many guns. But now she is damaged, and in need of
much repair. Your large force of men, and your many
informants along the coast, can help us discover where she
lies repairing and vulnerable, and then . . .'

'You will allow me to take her? Allow me my moment of
triumph? Hey?' The hint of a sardonic smile.

'Something like, something like, Major.' Rennie, nodding.
'However, there is a proviso.'

'Ah, yes. I thought that perhaps there would be a proviso.'
Pushing out his lips.

'We must be entirely certain that when she is took, her
master is aboard.'

'Well, I hope so, certainly. He is the connection to Scott,
ain't he?' Looking from one to the other.

'Exact. Exact.' Rennie nodded again. James took his cue
and nodded vigorously to himself.

'What is his name?'

'His name?' said Rennie.

'He is called Aidan Faulk.' James, over him, taking a
decision. 'And before we can tell you anything else, you must
give your solemn oath that you will not reveal that name
outside of this room.'

'Eh? Why?'

'It is a matter of the gravest consequence to the nation.'

James glanced at Rennie for support, but Rennie – shocked
that James had said the name at all – could only frown.

Major Braithwaite looked from one to the other. 'And I am
to help you – on your own assertion alone?'

'We are not alone, sir. The whole of England is behind us.'

'Hah, is it? Then why all this secrecy, and remote inns, and
damned foolish notes in the name of Hawk?'
Rennie now felt himself obliged to aid his friend, even if he
thought him wrong to have revealed the name.