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Authors: Peter Smalley

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'Well, sir, there it is.' Showing the letter to Rennie. 'Our
death-warrant.'

On the due date the two sea officers duly presented themselves
at the Admiralty in Whitehall, having travelled from
Portsmouth by express coach overnight.

James was in dress coat, with tasselled dress sword and
cockaded hat. Rennie had deliberated long about his own
clothes, and had repeatedly asked his friend's advice.

'What shall I wear, James, d'y'think? Should I attend in
civilian dress – in Mr Birch's coat? Or should I wear my
uniform?'

'I should wear my dress coat, sir, if I was you.'

'Ah, uniform. You think so?'

'Yes, sir.'

'I am not entitled to it, you know, since my court martial. I
am no longer a post, official. I am nothing.'

'Then why have they wrote the word "officers" in their
letter?'

'I was to've been reinstated, in course, but now . . .'

'Certainly they must regard you as an officer, if they wrote
that.'

'Yes, but lower on that same page you will see me called
plain "William Rennie" – "
late
Post Captain". Nay, I had
better dress in civilian clothes.'

'Very well, sir, as you think best. It don't matter much, as
things stand.'

'On t'other hand, though, perhaps they will take it as an
insult – if I do
not
wear a dress coat.'

At length, quarter of an hour before their time of
departure, Rennie had shifted into his dress coat, pulled on
his hat, searched frantically for his sword – until he
remembered that he no longer possessed it – and rushed to
the crowded High, where the coach stood waiting outside the
Marine Hotel. He had clambered aboard with barely half a
minute to spare.

And now they turned in under the arched stone entrance of
the Admiralty, removed their hats at the door, and were asked
to wait.

They waited in a side room, not very large, with a window
but no view, only a modicum of stone wall and filtering light.
They waited long, and began to fret. Rennie fidgeted, sitting
on the single chair; James paced the floorboards, one of
which creaked each time he trod over it. At last Rennie:

'James, James, for Christ's sake stop making that damned
nail squeak, will ye?'

'What? Does it squeak? I did not hear it.' He stood briefly
at the window, staring at nothing, then resumed pacing.

An hour passed. Rennie stood up, and James sat on the
chair, and tapped the summoning letter against his thigh,
until:

'James, for God's sake, dear fellow – will y'stop that bloody
tap-tap-tap?'

Presently they were released from their misery, and
summoned.

The clerk who took them upstairs showed them into the
Board Room, with its tell-tale on the end wall, its wall of
furled charts above the fireplace, its long table at the centre.
All members of the Board were today absent, save one.
Vice-Admiral Lord Hood came forward to greet the two
officers.

'Gentlemen, come in.' Deep-set eyes, and a face that
might have been forbidding in a less sympathetic man.
'Mr Hayter.' Shaking James's hand. 'And Captain Rennie.'
He shook Rennie's hand. 'Let us sit down, and be
comfortable.'

They sat down, James and Rennie on each side of one end
of the great table, Lord Hood at the head.

'A glass of sherry, gentlemen?'

'No, thank you, sir.'

'Thankee, sir, no.'

'No? Well, perhaps not, just at present. I am today
representing the First Lord, the Earl of Chatham, who is
indisposed.' He opened a leather fold that lay on the table,
and turned over several pages. He nodded. 'Hm. Yes. It is all
quite straightforward, I think.' And closed the fold. 'The
position is this. You are to be reinstated as post captain,
Rennie, with immediate effect. Your warrant of commission
is being wrote out in another room.'

'My . . . warrant of commission . . . ?' Staring at the admiral.

'Indeed. You are to have the
Expedient
frigate once again,
as your command. That is – if you want her?'

'Want her? Good God. I beg your pardon, sir. Yes, yes, I
want her.'

'Very good.' Turning to his other side. 'Mr Hayter, now
we come to you.'

'Sir?'

'You are to be offered the ship-sloop
Eglantine
, twentytwo,
with the rank of master and commander.'

James sat with his mouth open in astonishment, became
aware, and closed it.

'However, you must make a choice.'

'Choice . . . ?'

'Yes. We have decided – the Board has decided – that
should you wish to return to duty under Captain Rennie, as
his first lieutenant in
Expedient
, we should not object. It
would in no way reflect on your character and standing as a
sea officer. But I should make clear that if you do decide to
return to
Expedient
, the
Eglantine
would in course be given to
another officer. We could not hold that commission open
indefinite, you apprehend me?'

'I – I do, sir, thank you.'

'In course you need not decide immediate. We are
disposed to allow you a week or two to make up your
mind. That is right, that is fitting.' Turning back to Rennie
again: 'You will not object, Captain Rennie, to a short
delay?'

'Eh? No, no, in course I will not object, sir.'

James sat quiet a moment, trying to come to terms with all
that had happened in the past few minutes. Tried, and could
not.

'Sir, with your permission, I should like to understand . . .
are we to be asked nothing about the
Lark
, today?'

'No.'

'The letter I received . . .' James took the letter from his
coat '. . . said that we should – '

'It was merely a formal summons, wrote out in formal
language. It don't signify in this room.'

'Ah. Oh.' James put the letter away, then: 'Sir, again with
your indulgence, may I know – '

Lord Hood raised a hand, and over him: 'We have decided
– the Board – that given your very courageous conduct in
fighting several actions at sea, in the nation's interest – albeit
without the result desired by all parties concerned – we have
decided that you should be suitably rewarded. What better,
what greater reward can there be, Mr Hayter, than the offer
of his own ship to a sea officer?'

'None, sir.'

'Exact. And there you have your explanation.' A glance at
both of them, now. 'A condition attaches, gentlemen, to both
of these offers.'

'Condition, sir?' Rennie.

'Aye, a proviso. You are, neither of ye, to discuss in any
distinction, with any person, any of the matters pertaining to
the
Lark
, nor the man Faulk, now or at any future time. Your
lips must be sealed, gentlemen, sealed absolute and for ever.
Is that quite clear to y'both?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Very good. I will say in passing that large effort is being
made to discover the spies that Faulk smuggled into England
– but that need not trouble us as sea officers, gentlemen. It is
not our duty, nor our concern, thank God. And now, I think,
we will drink that glass of wine. Yes?'

'Thank you, sir.'

'Thank you, sir.'

Heartfelt.

Lieutenant Hayter had returned to Birch Cottage, his home
at Winterborne in Dorsetshire, to be once more with his
beloved wife Catherine, and his son, and to decide upon
his future; neither did Captain Rennie remain in London.
He returned to his own home, Southcroft House, at
Middingham in Norfolk.

The passage of many weeks had not altered the appearance
of his house, but Rennie noticed that the garden was not as
well kept as he would have liked, that there was a slight air of
neglect. His housemaid Jenny was not quite her usual
cheerful self.

'The gardener has took hisself off to the farther side of
Fakenham, sir. He has got more reg'lar work there, he says. I
asked him what was more reg'lar than his work here at
Southcroft, and he says – '

'Yes, well well, thank you, Jenny. We will engage another
man presently, I am in no doubt.' He walked from room to
room, and saw that everything was in good order, but with
the same slight air of stale neglect he had seen outside. His
maid – should not he call her his housekeeper? – came
bustling downstairs, having taken up his valise, as Rennie
emerged from his library.

'All bills and accounts have been settled in my absence?'

'Yes, sir, as you required of me. You wish to see my book?'

'Nay, nay, later will do. We are provisioned in the house?
If I wished to invite guests?'

'Guests, sir? If you will tell me what to get in I shall order
it in the village, in the forenoon tomorrow.'

'Yes, very good.'

'Will you like tea now, sir? Or hot water and vinegar?'

'What, vinegar? Ugh. Tea, by all means. Thank you.'
Distracted, walking again to the entrance and looking out.

Since his return to Portsmouth from the sea action in the
Channel, Rennie had not seen Mrs Townend. During the
week he and Lieutenant Hayter had spent at the Marine
Barracks, Rennie had gone to the Cambridge Road house
where Mrs Townend was living with her sister, and had
found it empty. Puzzled and dismayed, he had enquired at a
neighbouring house about the two ladies who had lived at
number fifty-four. He was their friend, he said, and had been
at sea. The elderly occupant of the neighbouring house, who
let rooms, had told him:

'They have gone away, sir. Mrs Rodgers desired to return
to London, and her sister went home to Norfolk, as I
understand.'

'Ah. Ah. This was very sudden?'

'As I understand, Mrs Rodgers found the house intolerable
damp, sir. She complained that her health would suffer if she
did not go away at once.'

'Damp? I did not know it was damp.'

'Between you and me, I do not believe it was damp. There
was . . . I do not like to say anything harsh . . . but there was
words said between the two ladies. There was disagreement.
Damp was not the reason, but damp was proposed as the
means to break the lease.'

'Ah. You have been very kind.'

'I hope that I am kind, sir.'

And he had given her a gold sovereign.

Rennie stood now at his door in Norfolk, and looked out at
the familiar landscape. He had known Mrs Townend only a
short time, and they had been lovers only very briefly, but
now he was determined to take things further. He had
deliberated on the journey from London whether to call on
her at Norwich, and had then decided that he would not.
Instead he would return to Southcroft and send word to her
as a man in possession of his own house, a man of substance,
a post captain RN, newly commissioned. He would ask her to
be his wife.

'Speaking of guests, sir,' said Jenny, 'there has been a caller
at Southcroft, only recent, enquiring when you was to come
home.'

'Caller?' Turning from the door. 'When?'
'A lady, sir. She came the day before yesterday. A Mrs
Townend.'

'Mrs Townend! She came here? Why did not y'tell me at
once, good heaven? When did she come, did y'say?'

'The day before yesterday, sir.'

'Well? Well? What did she say? Is she staying in the
village?'

'I – I do not know that, sir. I said – '

'You did not ask her where she was staying, good God?'

'It ain't my place to ask a lady such questions, sir.'

'No, no, you are quite right. Forgive me, I did not mean to
bite off your head. Perhaps she left a card, or a note?'

'Yes, sir. She did leave a note. I had forgot. I left it on your
desk, sir, in the library.'

'Very well, thank you, Jenny.' And he smiled at her so that
she would not think him an ogre, hurried into his library and
retrieved the note. It read:

My darling William,

I am staying with my cousins at Redland House, a mile
beyond the village. Your housekeeper has told me that
you will soon come home – that you had sent word. I was
so very fearful that you would think I had deserted you
at Portsmouth. My sister and I have become estranged
after a very bitter dispute. I will call again on Thursday,
and pray that you will be at home then, dearest.

Sylvia

Rennie folded the note, opened it and reread it, and:

'Jenny! Jenny!'

'Sir?' At the library door.

'I do not want tea, after all. I am going out.'

'Now, sir?'

'Aye, now. I must call on the lady who came here, and
ask her a question, right quick. There ain't a moment to
lose!'

At Birch Cottage, reunited with his wife, James told her at
once of the Admiralty's offer of a new command.

'My darling, you are rightly valued,' said Catherine,
looking into James's eyes. 'You are favoured.'

'Yes.' Holding her hands in his, and feeling that nothing
mattered but this moment. He brought her hands up and
kissed them, then held her to him, and kissed her mouth, her
eyes, her neck. 'Yes.'

Presently: 'In course, I will not like it.' Catherine, softly.

'Not like it?' Murmuring, her hair on his cheek.

'No, I will not. It will take you away from me again.'

'Then I will not accept.'

'Not accept?' Drawing back her head to look into his face.

'Perhaps I will not.' Looking at her, and giving her a halfsmile.

'But surely you have always wanted this, have not you?
Preferment?'

'The thing that every sea officer wishes for, hey? That he
cannot wait to get?'

'Is it not so? My darling, you look as if you did not wish it,
after all.' Searching his face, seeing doubt in his eyes.

He drew her to him again, held her, then broke the
embrace. 'The truth is – I am not sure.'

'But, why? Surely you have earned it? It is yours by
right.'

'Yes, yes, I have earned it. Am fortunate and more to be
offered it . . .'

'James, my dearest, I hope that you will not refuse your
new command because of anything I have said. I was being
foolish just now. I did not mean – '

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