Free 1805 by Richard Woodman Page B

that we have been taking
every fishing boat we can lay our hands on…'
    'And now look, you damned fool, those two got clean
away…' Camelford pointed to where the brown lugsail leaned
away from the rail, full of wind and hauling off from
Antigone
's
side as her seamen stood and witnessed the little drama amidships.
    'And you have kept your word, my Lord,' Drinkwater said
soothingly, 'and now shall we go to my cabin? Put the ship on a course
of north north-east, Mr Q. I want to fetch The Downs without delay.'
     
    'Who the hell is he?' Rogers asked
Hill as first lieutenant and master stood on the quarterdeck
supervising their preparations for coming to an anchor in The Downs.
'D'you know?'
    'Yes. Don't you recall him as Lieutenant Pitt? Vancouver left
him ashore at Hawaii back in ninety-four for insubordination…'
    'Is he the fellow that shot Peterson, first luff of the
Perdrix
,
in, what, ninety-eight?'
    'The same fellow. And the court-martial upheld his defence
that Peterson, though senior, had refused to obey a lawful
order…'
    'Having the name Pitt helped a great deal, I don't doubt,'
said
Rogers. 'He resigned after it though, a regular kill-buck by the look
of it. I thought Drinkwater was going to have a fit when he came
aboard.'
    'Oh he'll get away with almost anything. He's related to Lord
Grenville by marriage, Billy Pitt by blood, and, I believe, to Sir
Sydney Smith. I daresay it's due to the latter pair that he's been
employed as an agent. I wonder what he was doing in France?'
    'Mmmm. It must take some stomach to act as a spy over there,'
Rogers's tone was one of admiration as he nodded in the direction of
the cliffs of Gris Nez.
    'Oh yes. Undoubtedly,' mused Hill, 'but I wonder what
exactly…' The conversation broke off as a thunderous-looking
Drinkwater came on deck.
    'Are we ready to anchor, Mr Rogers?'
    'Aye, sir, as near as… all ready, sir.' Rogers saw
the look in Drinkwater's eye and went forward.
    'Very well, bring-to close to the flagship, Mr Hill, then
clear away my barge!'
    Drinkwater had had a wretched time with the obnoxious
Camelford. In the end he had virtually imprisoned the spy in his own
cabin with a few bottles and spent most of the time on deck. Actually
avoiding a ridiculous challenge from the man's deliberate provocation
tested his powers of self-restraint to the utmost. He found it hard to
imagine what on earth a person of Camelford's stamp was doing on behalf
of the British government in France. After they had anchored,
Drinkwater went below and found Camelford slumped in his own chair, the
portrait of Hortense Santhonax spread on the table before him. He
opened his mouth to protest at the ransacking of his effects but
Camelford slurred:
    'D'you know this woman, Captain Drinkwater?'
    'The portrait was captured with the ship,' Drinkwater answered
non-committally.
    'I asked if you know her.'
    'I know who she is.'
    'If you ever meet her or her husband, Captain, do what I
wanted to do to those fishermen. Shoot 'em both!'
    Drinkwater sensed Camelford was in earnest. Whatever the man's
defects, he was, at that moment, making an effort to be both
conciliatory and informative. Besides, experience had taught Drinkwater
that agents recently liberated from a false existence surrounded by
enemies were apt to behave irrationally, and news of Santhonax or his
wife held an especial fascination for him. He grinned at Camelford.
    'In
his
case I doubt if I'd hesitate.'
    'You know Edouard Santhonax too, then?'
    Drinkwater nodded. 'He was briefly my prisoner on two
occasions.'
    'Did you know Wright was captured in the Morbihan?'
    'Wright? Of the
Vincejo
?'
    'Yes. He was overwhelmed in a calm by a number of gunboats and
forced to surrender. They put him in the Temple and cut his throat with
a rusty knife.' Camelford tapped the cracked canvas before him. 'Her
husband visited the Temple the night before, with a commission from the
Emperor Napoleon…'
    'The
Emperor
Napoleon?' queried
Drinkwater, bemused by