The Hundred Days (34 page)

‘Very well put, Jack,’ he said.

Jack smiled and called, ‘Killick. Killick, there. Plain coat, decent breeches; and tell Bonden
I shall need the barge directly.’

The barge received him and took him across the
smooth water to the flag, where, in reply to the hail, Bonden called
‘Surprise’. After the formalities of the reception of a postcaptain Jack said,
‘I am sorry to trouble you again, Holden, but I must either see the Admiral or
have this note conveyed to him.’

Moments later the flag-lieutenant returned, begged
Captain Aubrey to come this way, and brought him to the great cabin, where Lord
Barmouth, looking ten years younger, received him with a cordiality he had
never known before, though the Admiral had always been known as a temperamental
man, moving from one extreme to another. ‘As for this note,’ said the
Commander-in-Chief, ‘how happy do you feel about your source of intelligence?’

‘Happy enough to stake my life upon it, my Lord,’
said Jack. ‘And Dr Maturin is of the same opinion.’

‘Then you shall certainly go. But Aubrey, I had no
idea that you were a childhood friend of my wife’s - indeed some sort of a
cousin. Acasta came in this afternoon, bringing her at last, in blooming health
in spite of the weather - she is a splendid sailor - and as she had a package
for Lady Keith we went straight over to their place. They very kindly kept us
to dinner - just an impromptu scratch dinner, the four of us - and I do not
know how your name arose but it very soon became apparent that both the women
had known you ever since you were breeched and even before: they had followed
you from ship to ship in the Gazette and the Navy List, and when they put a
foot wrong, as in the date of your appointment to Sophie, Lord Keith put them
right. In the end it was decided that we should ask the Keiths and you and Dr
Maturin - Lord Keith has the highest opinion of him - to dine with us aboard
the flag tomorrow. But I fear this request of yours may put it out of your
power.’

‘I am afraid it does, my Lord; but I am very
sensible of your goodness, and I am sure Maturin will say the same.’

The Admiral bent his head, and went on, ‘Now as to
the request, do you feel entirely confident of your agent’s intelligence?’

 ‘Entirely
so, my Lord: should commit my ship and myself to the hilt; and Maturin agrees.’

‘And the occasion is urgent?’

‘It could not be more so, my Lord.’

‘You must go, then. But Lady Barmouth and I will be
very happy to see you both and the Keiths on your return.’ He rang the bell and
told his steward to bring the old, old, very old brandy. When it came he filled
their glasses and drank ‘to Surprise and her success’.

‘This is famous brandy, upon my word,’ said Jack;
and after a pause he went on with a certain embarrassment, ‘I never had the
honour of serving under Admiral Horton and being very often out of England I never heard either of
his marriage or his death.’

‘He married Isobel Carrington just after he was
given his flag.’

‘Isobel Carrington!’ cried Jack. ‘Of course I
should have thought of her when you spoke of Queenie and her. Isobel and
Queenie! Lord, those names bring back such delightfully happy memories! I shall
very much look forward to paying my respects to Lady Barmouth. And I thank you
most heartily for your permission to sail, my Lord.’

The Commander-in-Chief gave him his hand and they
parted on better terms than Jack would have believed possible.

Aboard Surprise again, and in ordinary working
clothes, he called for the carpenter and said, ‘All things considered, Chips,
which do you think our fastest, most weatherly boat?’

‘Oh, the blue cutter, sir, without a doubt: the
blue cutter, with Mr Daniel at the helm. He can coax her an
extra halfpoint nearer the wind, and an extra half knot.’

‘Very good: pray run an eye over her, and if
anything is wanting let Mr Harding know: the gunner will give you some blue and
red lights and some star-bursts.’ Then directing his voice over the still water
he called, ‘Ringle: Mr. Reade, we shall be moving out into the Strait very
soon, so if you have any women aboard they had better
go ashore directly. And when we are well clear of the mole, I should like to
have a word with you.’

How easy it seemed, the quiet departure of the two
vessels a little after the evening gun: scarcely an order was needed, and
scarcely any were uttered: long-practised hands coiled down the familiar ropes,
hauled the bowlines as the ship left the mole and made all fast with scarcely a
conscious reflection. But Jack did check the customary hoisting of the
toplight; and he called for only one single stern-lantern. The Surprises winked
at one another and jerked their heads in a very knowing fashion: they were
perfectly aware that something was up, and presently they knew just what that
something was.

Jack called William Reade to join him and his
officers on the quarterdeck. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘you are all perfectly aware
that this voyage was undertaken in order to discourage Bonaparte at sea: but it
also had another side. From the landward point of view Napoleon’s supporters in
Bosnia, Serbia and those parts believed
that if they could prevent the Russian and Austrian armies from joining the
British and Prussians, he would be able to defeat each of the Allies
separately, piecemeal. For this intervention they had to hire a large number of
Balkan Muslim mercenaries: we stopped the Dey of Algiers letting the money pass
through his country, but now it is on its way by sea from Morocco in a large
galley that means to run through the Straits tonight. According to our
intelligence the galley intends to lie under Tarifa until the turn of the tide,
and then, the wind being favourable, to run through the Straits. And if the
breeze fails him, then to row: they can make seven or even eight knots for a
burst. And then again there is the advantage of the eastward current. The
captain of the galley, a wellknown, active corsair, has hired two others to act
as decoys, one on the African side and one in mid-channel. We shall take no
notice of them, but make steadily for Tarifa, Ringle to larboard and Mr Daniel
in the blue cutter to starboard, each three cable’s lengths abeam of Surprise.
The first to sight the galley will send up a blue light if the enemy is to
starboard, red if to port, and a star-burst if the galley is right ahead.’

‘Blue to starboard, red to larboard, white if right
ahead,’ they murmured, and Reade went back to his command, while the blue
cutter was lowered down.

No moon, but a most splendid wealth of stars -
Orion in his glory, great Vega blazing on the larboard quarter and Deneb
beyond; a little forward of the beam, both bears and the Pole Star; Arcturus
and Spica on the starboard bow: and had the foresail not been in the way, Stephen
would have seen Sirius, but he was shown Procyon. Then on the larboard bow
Capella, low down but still brilliant, and both Castor and Pollux - ‘Castor is
a glorious double,’ said Jack, pointing them out to Stephen. ‘I must show him
to you in my telescope when we are at home.’ Then raising his voice a little,
‘Mr Harding, I believe we may shorten sail a little,’ for the faint wafts of
vapour - they could scarcely be called cloud - beneath the stars were now some
five or even six degrees more southerly than they had been when first he had
started pointing them out to Stephen. The breeze was certainly backing, and if
it went on at this rate the Surprise would certainly be well to windward of the
galley by the time they reached Tarifa. Furthermore, if Jack waited for the
turn of the Atlantic tide there was a strong likelihood that the galley would
begin her run; and although she could sail half a point nearer the wind than a
square-rigged ship, once the corsair was a little way into the Strait, Surprise
would even more certainly have the weather-gage and an encounter could not be
avoided.

No moon, of course; but the suffused starlight gave
a practised eye a fair view of the Spanish skyline - Punta Carnero, Punta
Secreta, Punta del Fraile, and Punta Acebuche were all astern: Tarifa was not
far off.

 ‘Topsails
alone,’ said Jack quite low; and some of the way came off the ship.

‘Four knots and two fathoms, sir, if you please,’
said the midshipman in charge of the log, murmuring low.

There was a steadily mounting sense of crisis
aboard, and for some time now the quartermaster had sounded the bells only with
his knuckles. Almost no talk or even whispering along the deck, where the guns
were already run out and the slow-match smouldered in the tubs.

It was Daniel in the blue cutter who first saw the
galley, inshore of him and already under sail, two fine lateens sheeted well in
and rounded with the breeze. He sent up a blue light and its lasting effulgence
showed the enemy clear, the sea, and its own smoke, still more distinctly
drifting from the south.

The galley was not quite as deeply engaged in the
Strait as Jack could have wished, but she lay pretty well: pretty well, indeed.
He signalled Ringle to pick up the cutter and follow him, then spread all the
canvas the Surprise could carry in this moderate breeze, increasing as it
backed, and he hauled her as close as ever she would lie.

The galley, seeing that she had been detected by
perhaps as many as three men-of-war - possibly with others towards the eastern
end warned of her approach - abandoned all hope of racing through the channel,
struck her sails and took to her oars, steering into the eye of the wind.

The frigate’s great spread of white sail showed
clearly enough in the starlight for Murad Reis to chance a long shot with his
larboard chaser when the galley was head-and-stern in line with Surprise: the
heavy guns could not be traversed: they had to be aimed by means of the vessel
that carried them, and he moved the rudder with an expert hand.

A long shot: but the combination of good aiming,
excellent bore and powder, and the toss of the sea caused the twentyfour pound
ball to strike the second gun of the Surprise’s starboard,broadside,
killing Bonden, its captain, and young Hallam, the midshipman of the division.
Once the gun had been secured Jack ran the length of the battery, checking the
captains’ pointing - though indeed the low-lying galley was but the faintest
blur - urging highest elevation and then, on the rise, he cried, ‘Fire!’

Even with his night-glass in the maintop he could
not make out for sure whether the guns had had any effect: but after a few more
distant exchanges in which the Surprise received only a harmless, spent
ricochet, it seemed probable. At all events, after twenty minutes the galley’s
pace seemed to slacken, either because of damaged oars (terribly vulnerable to
broadside fire) or because that first dash had exhausted the rowers.

While his glass focused on what was almost
certainly the galley (for their courses were convergent) Jack ordered a forward
gun to fire, and in the flash he distinctly saw her making sail.

She was fast, and her lateen rig gave her the
advantage on a wind; but in their present positions and with the breeze still
backing steadily, any attempt on her part to cross the frigate’s bows or stern
before the changing wind made it quite impossible would expose her to at least
three or four unanswerable broadsides: a galley, however heavy, wellhandled and
however dangerous her bow- and stern-chasers, could not stand
broadside-to-broadside combat with a manof-war mounting fourteen
twelve-pounders a side, apart from chasers, swivel-guns in the tops, and
musketry, to say nothing of much stouter timbers.

There was no possibility of boarding, either, without
the certainty of being raked fore and aft several times before coming
alongside; and although Murad Reis had boarded and taken merchantmen heavier
than Surprise, the truly naval speed and efficiency of her broadside convinced
him that the attempt would not answer and he turned to the only other
alternative - that of outsailing her (a galley could be very fast in a
reasonably smooth sea with a following wind) and so of casting an eastward loop
at the end of a very long run, thus, perhaps, regaining the weather-gage and
freedom.

The morning sun, rising over Africa, showed the galley almost
exactly where Jack had expected her, about two miles away westward: her two
lateens out on either side making the most of the topgallant
south-west-by-south wind: and so they ran all that pure cloudless day, and even
the next, when sea, wind and current were almost exactly the same. But the
extreme tension of that first day, when every man, woman and boy tried to urge
the frigate on with clenched stomach muscles and extraordinary zeal in racing
aloft or doing anything that might possibly increase the vessel’s speed,
diminished to the extent that the people went about their ordinary duties -
cleaning decks, stowing hammocks, directing the fire-hoses high into the sails
to help them draw a little better, eating their breakfast and the like -
without perpetually breaking off to look at the chase. One boy even went to
tell Stephen of a curious bird, a brown-faced booby; and Stephen and Jacob were
much less often disturbed in their favourite observation-point right forward,
by the starboard cathead. They had little or nothing to do in the sickberth
that could not safely be left to Poll and Maggie. Jack was as active as any of
his officers in drawing the last ounce of thrust from the breeze; and in any
case Jack was disinclined for any other occupation whatsoever. He was, of
course, very thoroughly acquainted with sudden death, but this time he felt the
loss of Bonden, an admirable sailor, and of young Hallam, the son of an old shipmate,
very deeply indeed.

This day was most uncommoply hot, and the next, a
Monday, hotter still: Jacob, in the most natural way in the world, put on a
turban, and Stephen, without much urging, a knotted white handkerchief. ‘This
might go on for ever,’ he observed before dinner, settling down on his coil of
rope.