The Sultan's Daughter (44 page)

‘The name rings a bell,' Roger remarked. ‘Surely he must be the man whom Talleyrand mentioned to me when I was last in Paris as being a prisoner in the Temple.'

‘You are right; but he succeeded in escaping, with the aid of a French Royalist: one Colonel Phélippeaux. He subscribed his letter in most pretentious terms, as Knight of the Royal Swedish Order of the Sword, Minister Plenipotentiary to the Grand Turk and Chief of Operations by Land and Sea in the Levant. It is, of course, true that his younger brother is our Minister at the Porte, which should greatly assist his negotiations there, but——'

‘But the insult!' Emma broke in passionately. ‘To deprive of one of his Squadrons the greatest sailor England has ever had and allow this popinjay to reap the glory of finishing off Bonaparte. The humiliation of it is beyond bearing. One can only suppose that their Lordships are gone mad.'

Roger would have given pride of place to no man in his admiration for the little Admiral's grasp of all naval matters, initiative and great personal courage, and he was shocked
by this most ungenerous treatment of him. All the same, he thought that there was a possible reason for it. Although, as far as Nelson was able, he had for the past five months continued to control his distant Squadrons operating against Egypt, Malta and the Balearics and in the Gulf of Genoa, he had devoted his own energies entirely to the affairs of Naples. He had even promised that in no circumstances would he abandon Their Sicilian Majesties. The reason for that was not far to seek and was so generally known that tidings of it would long since have reached London. In Whitehall it might well be thought that, instead of remaining inactive in Palermo, he ought by now to be back in the Levant, doing his utmost to hamper the advance up the Syrian coast which it was known Bonaparte intended to undertake in the New Year. Therefore a more single-minded man had been sent to do it for him.

Naturally, Roger made no mention of his plausible speculations and Sir William was going on, ‘You will appreciate how aggrieved was so sensitive a soul as Sir Horatio by this belittling of him. He wrote at once both to Earl Spencer at the Admiralty and to St. Vincent, as his Commander-in-Chief, stating that he could not support having Captain Hood's Squadron taken from him by an officer junior to himself, and asking to be relieved of his Command.'

‘I pray God they are not such fools as to allow him to give it up,' Roger said with all sincerity. Then he asked if Sir William would secure him an interview with the Admiral.

‘He is residing here as our treasured guest,' said Emma, ‘and we should be happy to have you, too, with us if you will forgive our putting you in a small room at the top of the house.'

Sir William added, with a sad little smile, ‘It's that, or the company of bedbugs and rats. Palermo is now choc-a-bloc with refugees of a dozen different nationalities. The only passable hotel is full to overflowing and every moderately sanitary building is packed to the roof-tops.'

Roger's reason for not accepting the Hamiltons's hospitality in Naples did not pertain in Palermo, so he gratefully accepted and was shown up to an attic room. At supper that night there were some twenty people, the majority of whom
were now penniless and living on Sir William's generosity although he had lost a great part of his fortune. A number of them seized upon Roger, as a newcomer, to pour out the tale of their misfortunes; but later in the evening the Ambassador took him to a room that had been set aside as an office for Nelson.

The Admiral, pale and ill-looking, was doggedly working in his left-handed scrawl through a pile of correspondence, as he now had half a dozen allies with whom to deal in addition to the scattered ships of his Fleet, and was preparing to defend Messina from attack by the French. After greeting Roger courteously but abruptly, he asked in what way he could be of service to him.

Determined to give the little fire-eater no grounds for inveigling him into further work as a secret agent in the Mediterranean, Roger cannily refrained from asking directly for a passage home. Instead he said that, having got as far as Naples, he had intended to return overland to France but, as that had proved impossible, his only alternative was to go home by sea. Then he could slip across the Channel to deliver Bonaparte's despatches and, resume his secret activities in Paris.

The Admiral wasted no words, but said glumly, ‘I myself may shortly be sailing for England. In that case I will take you with me. In any case I will arrange matters for you. Pray excuse me now.'

Roger had not long to wait. Two days later a corvette arrived from Gibraltar. She carried a despatch for Nelson and a few hours later Sir William joyfully passed on its contents to Roger. Owing to a misunderstanding the ‘Great Plenip' as they had derisively nicknamed Sir Sidney Smith, had taken more upon himself than had been intended. Nelson was still Commander-in-Chief for the whole of the Mediterranean. Hood's Squadron would continue to act under his orders, as also would the pretentious Commodore. The Admiral was writing a despatch for the corvette to carry and, having watered, the ship was to proceed again to sea the following evening. Roger was to sail in her.

On the afternoon of the 16th Roger said good-bye to the kindly Hamiltons, then went aboard the corvette
Firefly
,
whose Captain was a Lieutenant Shotter. The Lieutenant, a big, middle-aged, cheerful man, welcomed Roger aboard and showed him to a small cabin. Having stowed away his few belongings, Roger went on deck and, as the early dusk of the February evening fell, watched Palermo fade away in the distance.

That night as he settled down in his narrow cot he sighed with satisfaction. After twelve months away from England he was at last on his way home. It might be another two months or more before he got there and, at this time of year, it was certain that there would be periods of bad weather during which he would suffer from seasickness. But that was a small price to pay to escape for good from the perils he had had to face for so long. Once home, he was now determined never to go abroad again until peace was restored.

When he went on deck next morning he found that, during the night, favourable winds had enabled the corvette to cover the sixty miles along the coast to the north-west tip of Sicily and that she was now off the little port of Tripani. By noon she had rounded the islands lying off the peninsula and was heading south. After a pleasant meal with the cheerful Lieutenant Shotter, Roger went below again for an afternoon nap.

Roused by the striking of eight bells, he went up and joined the Lieutenant on the poop. The weather was cold but fine and, after a few minutes, he noticed that the declining sun was almost directly astern. Turning to Shotter, he said.

‘Am I crazy, Lieutenant, or are your methods of navigation most unusual? The sun is behind us, so we must be sailing east; whereas for Gibraltar we should be proceeding west.'

The Lieutenant gave him a slightly pitying smile. ‘I'm sorry to have to disillusion you, Mr. MacElfic, but we are not going to Gibraltar. My instructions are to take
Firefly
to Egypt.'

Roger's blue eyes grew dark with anger. Suddenly he found his voice and demanded, ‘What the hell is the meaning of this?'

‘I can hardly make my meaning plainer, sir,' replied the Lieutenant. ‘
Firefly
is bound for Egypt.'

‘There has been a mistake,' Roger rapped out. ‘An absurd misunderstanding. Admiral Nelson promised me a passage home. I must request you to put about at once and land me at the nearest Sicilian port.'

‘I'm sorry, sir, but that is out of the question.' Shotter remained quite unruffled in the face of Roger's angry stare. ‘The misunderstanding must be on your part. Sir Horatio gave me my orders personally and they were to take you to Egypt.'

‘Were they, by God! Then he's tricked me and——'

‘I don't like to hear you say that, sir,' the Lieutenant interjected swiftly.

‘I don't give a damn what you like,' Roger roared. ‘The Admiral has no right whatever to dictate my movements. I am not his servant, but Mr. … Well, no matter. But I have friends powerful enough to have you dismissed the Service. Do you refuse to put about and land me it will be the worse for you.'

‘Mr. MacElfic, I'm sure you don't mean that, because you know that I must obey the orders I've been given. If you thought you were on your way home I sympathise with you; but you're not, and it will make things much more pleasant for both of us if you act sensibly.' As he spoke, Shotter drew a letter from his pocket and added, ‘Sir Horatio said that, when you learned our destination, you might be somewhat
upset and he told me to give you this. No doubt it will explain matters.'

Seething with rage, Roger took the letter, broke the seal and read:

Mr. Brook
,

I trust you will not think too badly of me for the small deception I have practised upon you. Sir William Hamilton will have informed you that I am still responsible for the conduct of operations in the Levant. Owing to the extraordinary position you have created for yourself as the confidant of Bonaparte, I am convinced that you can be of far greater service to your King and Country by returning to him than by going to Paris. In any case, I cannot find it in me to deprive my Command of such a valuable source of intelligence as you have it in your power to provide. I am, therefore, sending you to my subordinate, Captain Sir Sidney Smith, with instructions to him to make use of you as he sees fit
.

I am, etc
.

Nelson

After what Shotter had said the contents of the letter were more or less what Roger expected; but that did not lessen his rage. When he had read it through the Lieutenant said:

‘Now, sir, may I suggest your showing that you bear me no personal ill feeling on account of your situation by coming below and joining me in a glass of wine.'

Roger shook his head. ‘I appreciate your offer, Lieutenant, but for the moment I am in too churlish a state to do justice to any man's hospitality. However, in an hour or so, if you will permit me?'

For a good hour he remained in his cabin in a positively murderous mood at the thought of the way in which he had been trapped. But his anger gradually subsided and at last he could even appreciate the grim humour of the turn events had taken. He had thought himself so clever in lying to the little Admiral about wishing to get back to Paris, but it was Nelson who had had the last laugh. All the same, Roger was not prepared to submit tamely and he felt that an occasion
was almost certain to arise when he could leave
Firefly
long before she arrived off the coast of Egypt.

He was soon disillusioned in that hope. When he joined Lieutenant Shotter in his cabin the Lieutenant filled two glasses from a decanter of Canary Sack then said, ‘There is just one point, Mr. MacElfic, which I think we should settle right away. We can then leave this unhappy subject for good and, I hope, prove pleasant company for one another on the voyage. However favoured we are with the weather, we shall have to look in at Crete to pick up fresh victuals and water and, should we be blown badly off our course, perhaps at other places. I trust you will not attempt to jump ship.'

‘Do you mean that I am your prisoner?' Roger asked, his ire again beginning to rise.

‘I should prefer not to put it like that,' the cheerful Shotter replied. ‘It is simply that I am under orders to deliver you to Sir Sidney Smith. My Admiral was most positive about that. Therefore I must ask you to give me your parole or, if you will not, I shall have to take the precaution of putting you under guard whenever we are within swimming distance of the shore.'

For a moment Roger considered. Had he been in an enemy ship he would have refused to give his parole, and backed himself to escape. But to do so from a British ship while under guard would be almost impossible without seriously injuring one or more of the British sailors; and that he was not prepared to do.

With a nod he said, ‘Very well, then. I'll make no attempt to me.' They then shook hands on it and drank ‘good luck' to the voyage in their first glass of wine, voyage in their first glass of wine.

The voyage of
Firefly
proved uneventful, except that she was twice blown back and forced to shelter for a few days under the lee of Crete. Having escaped being caught in the open she evaded the worst of the storm and Roger, although distinctly queasy, managed to survive the week of bad weather without being seasick. Just under three weeks after leaving Palermo they sighted Alexandria.

They received the latest intelligence from a blockading frigate. Bonaparte had adhered to his plan and, early in
February, had launched his invasion of Syria. On the 20th, after a twelve-day siege, the powerful fortress of El Arish had surrendered to him. The French had then proceeded up the coast and were now laying siege to Jaffa. Having learned this, the new Commander in the Levant had left Alexandria to succour the besieged city. Shotter promptly rehoisted sail and set off after him.

Three days later
Firefly
was off Jaffa. There was no sign of Sir Sidney Smith and tricolour flags were flying over the city; so it had evidently been captured. They hailed an Arab dhow that was lying half a mile out from the harbour and, as Roger was able to act as interpreter, secured an account of what had taken place.

The French had appeared before the great walled city on March 3rd. The garrison, which was said to have numbered over four thousand men, had made several determined sorties, but had been driven back. After two days of severe fighting the French artillery made a big breach in the walls. Bonaparte, presumably to save his Army from the casualties inseparable from an assault, sent a messenger under a flag of truce to offer terms. But the ferocious Djezzar Pasha, who, from Acre, ruled all Syria, had ordered the messenger's head to be cut off and sent back to Bonaparte. The French then carried the city by storm. Djezzar succeeded in getting away but the greater part of the garrison surrendered.