Under False Colours (12 page)

Read Under False Colours Online

Authors: Richard Woodman

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Sea Stories, #War & Military

BOOK: Under False Colours
12.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Drinkwater paused and stared at the grey sea below him. The swell broke against the rampart of the island, a filigree of white foam rolled back from the rocks, harmless-looking from this height. In the west, behind rolls of dark cumulus, the sunset was pallid. Drinkwater sniffed the air and stared about him. There were fewer birds about than earlier, most were already roosting on the cliff. He looked again at the swell and barked a short laugh.

There would be a westerly gale by morning. He would go when the packet sailed, but that would be when God decided, not Colonel Bloody Hamilton! He turned, intending to walk back by way of the lighthouse. He would achieve something following his visit to Helgoland, send a letter of censure to the Elder Brethren of the Trinity House for allowing so archaic a system as the chauffer to continue in service, when a parabolic reflector and Argand lights would provide a reliable light on the island!

With such consoling and indignant thoughts he began the return journey. He had not gone a hundred yards before he almost fell over the seaman.

The man was asleep, but woke with a start as Drinkwater stumbled and swore.

'God damn it, man, what the devil are you doing here?'

'I beg pardon, Cap'n Waters. Guess I must have fallen asleep. I came up here more or less like yourself, fixing to get some peace and quiet.'

Drinkwater recognized the American seaman he had last spoken to at the
Galliwasp
's pumps.

'Sullivan, ain't it?'

'That's correct, sir,' Sullivan replied, brushing himself down.

'You're an American, aren't you?'

'A
Loyalist
American, Cap'n. I hail from New Brunswick now, though I was born in Georgia. My paw was with Colonel Kruger at Fort Ninety-Six.'

'Ah yes, the American War. You're a long way from home, Sullivan.'

'Aye, Cap'n, and a damned fool for it, and if I wanna get home I have to keep clear o' Lootenant Smithies. He's made threats to press some o' the boys from the
Galliwasp
. That's why I spends my liberty hours up here, away from the grog shops.'

'I see. Well, good luck to you. The sooner you get that barque refitted, the sooner you'll see New Brunswick again.'

He walked on, unaware that the encounter with Sullivan was the second event of consequence that day.

Drinkwater avoided the company of the garrison officers that night. He went, without dinner, directly to his room. There seemed little point in disobliging Hamilton. He would happily leave on the King George, when the packet sailed. He had begun making up an account to settle with Littlewood when a knock came at his door. It was Nicholas.

'May I speak with you, Captain Drinkwater?'

'Why the change of tack, sir?' said Drinkwater coolly. 'I thought all that was necessary had already been said.'

'Not quite, sir. May I ...?'

Drinkwater lit a second candle and motioned Nicholas to sit on the bed. He sat himself on the single rickety upright chair that served all other offices in the bare room. 'I shall not be sorry to leave this place,' he said, looking round him.

'Sir,' said Nicholas urgently, 'I must apologize for Colonel Hamilton's attitude as well as my own. He is a harassed man, sir, under pressure from many quarters and, if you will forgive the metaphor, you were a timely whipping-boy. The fact is, sir, that if you are who you say you are — damn it, this is difficult — but put bluntly, sir, as a post-captain you were seen as a threat ...'

'Damn it, Mr Nicholas, I only wanted a degree of cooperation.'

'I think, sir, that you are a man of more decisiveness than the Governor. He is a trifle jealous of those whose, er, energy threatens to compromise his authority.'

'Which is why you yourself so assiduously toe his line,' said Drinkwater wryly.

'Er, quite so, sir. I have to endure a long posting here.'

Drinkwater smiled. 'Well, as for my decisiveness, Mr Nicholas, it has not been much exercised lately. In fact — well, no matter. To what do I owe your present visit?'

'A word with you privately, sir. I have given much thought to what you have told us. I have also consulted Captain Littlewood who told me that he was secretly informed in London that you were a naval officer of distinction.'

'Who told him that?' Drinkwater asked, recalling Littlewood's occasional sly 'jibes'.

'His charter-party, I understand. A Mr Solomon ...'

'I see. Why then if you knew that, did you not intercede with Hamilton?'

'It only occurred to me to ask three days ago and since then, with the arrival of Lieutenant Maimburg, I have been much occupied with despatches. Besides ...'

'Your relationship with Hamilton is not always easy.'

'Quite so, sir, quite so.'

'But you could have said something today.'

'I did not make the connection until dinner this evening, sir. It did not occur to me earlier and besides, there are certain matters that are exclusively my concern, as agent for the Foreign Service.'

'I see.'

'But before I can go any further, sir, before I can act on my own initiative, I have to satisfy myself that you are indeed the officer of whom I have heard.'

'And how do you propose to do that?' Drinkwater asked drily.

'You mentioned your acquaintance with Colin Mackenzie. What was it you jointly achieved in the, er, Baltic?'

For a moment Drinkwater stared silently at the young man. There were good reasons why he should remain silent, but there were equally good reasons for not doing so.

'What have you in mind, Mr Nicholas, if I prove to be who I claim? I am after all, about to be repatriated. Do you just wish to satisfy your curiosity?'

'You might yet achieve your objective, sir. You might yet convince the French that your cargo
was
bound for Russia, that the Russians
are
buying quantities of arms and that it suggests a secret accord between St Petersburg and London.'

'And how do you propose I, or should I say "we" are to accomplish this, Mr Nicholas?'

'Wait, sir. I beg you be patient. I can at present only conceive the grand design. Ever since I heard of Lord Dungarth's idea, I was struck by the subtlety of it. It understands exactly the circumstances likely to directly attract Napoleon's attention. But first, sir, answer my question: what was it you and Colin Mackenzie jointly achieved?'

It was as if a lock had been picked in Drinkwater's soul. As the candles guttered in the fervid breath of the eager Nicholas and the shadows of their figures leapt on the peeling lime-washed walls of the barrack room, it seemed that his visitor was a providential messenger, sent to release him from his purgatory. Fate had decided upon a reprieve, and he felt his spirits rise with the enthusiasm of the younger man.

'Well, sir, if I hear you have breathed a word of this to anyone, I shall shoot you.' He said it without meaning it, but the flat tone of voice menaced Nicholas so that he caught his breath and nodded.

Drinkwater smiled. 'We are like conspirators, are we not, Mr Nicholas?'

'I hope not quite that, sir.'

'Lord Dungarth once said to me that he imagined himself as a puppet-master, pulling strings that made others jump. A rum fancy, but not inaccurate. Very well. Mackenzie and I were at Tilsit. There were two other men involved, one of whom is dead and neither of whom need concern us now, and what we achieved was the theft by eavesdropping of the secret compact made verbally between the Tsar and Napoleon Bonaparte. Now do you believe I am Nathaniel Drinkwater, sir?'

'I do, sir, and I am most regretful that I did not from the start. I can only say that it may be providential that I made the discovery this evening, for only today have circumstances conspired to make my new proposal possible.'

'It is pointless to engage in mutual recrimination,' Drinkwater agreed. 'Please proceed.'

'Well, Captain Drinkwater, I have already expressed my admiration for Lord Dungarth's idea. It is highly probable that he has taken other measures to augment the plan ...'

'How do you mean?'

'Well, it would not work unless the enemy heard about it ...'

'You are very astute, Mr Nicholas,' said Drinkwater, thinking of his success in the whore-house, 'that is indeed quite true. You think his Lordship even now might be absent from London on some such task?'

'I think it most likely, sir. If all had gone well your cargo would have been delivered by now and the veracity of his claim, wherever laid, could have been checked.'

Drinkwater's heart was thumping with excitement. It was unlikely that Nicholas was right, for Dungarth was no longer fit to risk his life in France, but the thought that he could have been absent from London for a prolonged period had simply not occurred to Drinkwater. Hamilton would not have written to Dungarth personally, and Nicholas would have written to Canning. Canning would not have had time to deal with the correspondence before his pointless duel; and Dungarth's absence, even on so innocent an excuse as taking the waters at Bath, would explain why no answer had been forthcoming.

'You may have a point, Mr Nicholas, pray go on.'

'Well, as I believe you know, there are transports lying in the road that were destined for a secret service.'

'I have met Gilham of the
Ocean
, yes ...'

'It was intended that a rebellion was raised in Hanover in favour of King George, the legitimate sovereign.'

'But the plan misfired?'

'Yes, the troops intended for it were sent instead to Spain and we have had to content ourselves with recruiting for the King's German Legion. By the same packet that failed to bring your accreditment, I received a
Most Secret
despatch, one whose contents I am not necessarily obliged to make known to Colonel Hamilton.' Nicholas paused, as if to add emphasis to the drama.

'By which I take it you are about to strain the exact nature of the, er, obligation in my favour, eh?'

'Quite so, sir,' Nicholas said. 'The point is, that the Ordnance Board have written off the entire convoy. This was the news that arrived today. The cost is transferred to Mr Canning's Secret Service budget and Mr Canning is ...'

'Out of office!'

'Exactly so!'

'And in the absence of Mr Canning,
you
are going to take it upon yourself to dispose of those cargoes to me in order that I may exceed my own instructions and devise a means by which the whole are delivered to Russia? No, no, Mr Nicholas, at least not until the spring. The Baltic will be frozen and by then ...'

'The Elbe is still open.'

'The Elbe?' Drinkwater sat back in astonishment, making his chair creak. 'You are suggesting we land those cargoes in the Elbe?'

'It is only necessary that Paris believes they were
consigned
to Russia.'

'But what you are suggesting is the disposal of Crown property to the enemy!'

'Think what we would gain. The success of Lord Dungarth's mission with the enemy swallowing the bait in the belief that they had won the advantage while at the same time we should have disposed of the goods at a profit.'

'But...'

'The Government, Captain Drinkwater, has already written off those stores to the disposal of the Secret Service,' Nicholas repeated persuasively.

'Do we have some trusty person in Hamburg capable of acting as agent for the sale?'

'Indeed we do!' Nicholas said grinning, and Drinkwater found it impossible not to smile in response.

PART TWO
The Luring of the Eagle

England is a nation of shopkeepers.

Napoleon, Emperor of the French
CHAPTER 8
The Lure

November-December 1809

For a long while Drinkwater sat in silence and Nicholas watched anxiously. The longer the silence persisted, the less Nicholas thought he had convinced his listener. He began reciting a catalogue of reasons why the mission could not possibly be misjudged.

'If you have any misgivings, Captain Drinkwater, consider the facts. The funds of the Secret Service have been worse spent. We have squandered thousands on the Chouans ... we have wasted huge amounts on fomenting the
émigrés
 in Switzerland ... the Comte D'Antraigues and Mr Wickham have gobbled up fantastic sums, all to no effect ...'

But Drinkwater was not listening. Nicholas's words had acted like a drum beat to his tired heart. First the anger roused by Hamilton's rudeness had made him receptive to Nicholas's proposal; then the chance meeting with Sullivan, the
ci-devant
American, who had sown the seed of an idea ...

He got up and began pacing up and down the spartan room: three paces to the wall, three paces to the bed, up and down, up and down.

'We have already enjoyed one brilliant success, sir, from this very island when Mr Mackenzie was here and superintended the mission of Father Robertson ...'

Drinkwater stopped pacing and held up his hand. 'Stop, Mr Nicholas, you are being indiscreet. Whatever Mr Mackenzie's achievements, beware of seeking a reputation imprudently.

Your case has much to recommend it; now I desire that you listen to me.'

Drinkwater began to walk back and forth again, though at a slower pace, his head down and his forehead creased in concentration.

'There will be a gale by morning and the packet will be delayed. We must use this time to bring the Governor round. He has only to arrest and deport me for this scheme of yours to be stillborn. That I must leave to you, but I will give you some cogent reasons for pressing the point.

'To enable us to deliver a convoy would necessitate the co-operation of too many men and I doubt the fellows on those merchant ships will agree. However, we might mount an operation with two vessels. It will be known in Hamburg that these ships have been idling here for months; it would not be difficult to persuade the authorities there that their crews are disaffected, or threatened with the naval press. The Emperor Napoleon has inveighed against the application of the press against the hapless seamen of Great Britain ...

'Apart from these two vessels, the remaining ships may be deployed as decoys in such a way as to give the impression of our sincerity, without committing them. Is there a rendezvous with the mainland that would not admit too great a risk to our people?'

Other books

Breathless by Heather C. Hudak
Pure Harmony by McKenna Jeffries and Aliyah Burke
All or Nothing by Natalie Ann
Northwest of Earth by Moore, C.L.
Deathskull Bombshell by Bethny Ebert
Fire Song (City of Dragons) by St. Crowe, Val