Free The War Chest by Porter Hill Page B

containing monkeys; the animals were gripping the bamboo slats, baring their brown teeth at Babcock as an old crone in front of the cages held out a hand to him, asking, ‘Buy? Buy? Buy?’

Chapter Seven
COMPANY HOUSE
    Adam Horne’s first clue to the identity of the man who would be receiving him at Company House came when a secretary said that His Excellency, Governor Spencer, was not expecting Horne to arrive in Madagascar until the following week.
    Governor Spencer of Bombay, a slim man with a meticulously trimmed moustache and pointed goatee, was wearing a neatly cut but unfashionable frock-coat when he greeted Horne in a second-storey room in Company House. After a curt handshake, he nodded to a pair of gilt chairs in front of the tall, shuttered windows, saying, ‘Let us sit there.’
    Horne sat down, his back to the window, cocked hat on his knee. He had met Spencer on only two previous occasions, both brief, before he had captured General Lally from Madras, a mission which had been ordered by Spencer and his two fellow Governors, Pigot of Madras and Vansittart of Bengal.
    Dispensing with any social niceties, Spencer came straight to the point. ‘As you’re well aware, Captain Horne, the war with France is entering its sixth year.’
    Horne kept his eyes on Spencer’s gaunt face, his complexion apparently untouched by India’s harsh weather which turned most men’s skin to leather.
    The Governor, his voice clipped and impatient, went on. ‘The two countries seem to have reached a stalemate. The fighting has come to a lull. In the meantime, the French are still plagued with the problem which led to Lally’s downfall at Pondicherry: lack of money.’
    Commodore Watson had also mentioned money, Horne remembered. Had Watson known that Spencer was waiting to see him in Port Diego-Suarez? If so, why had he not said anything about it?
    Spencer continued, ‘But only in the past weeks, Captain Horne, have we heard about a consignment of gold being shipped from France to pay their troops in Mauritius.’
    Commodore Watson had known about the mission, Horne was sure of it, but the Governors had obviously forbidden him to say anything about it. So the old walrus had done his best by uttering hints about a treasure ship.
    ‘The British Navy Board has instructed the East India Company to intercept the French gold shipment, Captain Horne. That’s why we are turning to you.’
    Without waiting for Horne’s response, Spencer rose from his chair and moved to a large, delicately painted map stretched on the wall.
    Pointing to the pastel-green tip of Africa, he said, ‘Governor Pigot, Governor Vansittart and myself are calling upon you, Captain Horne, to commandeer the French war chest between the Cape of Good Hope and—’
    As Spencer pointed to a small dot directly east of Madagascar—Mauritius—Horne noticed that the Governor’s fingernails were torn and ragged. Apart from being at variance with his neat appearance, the bitten nails betrayed that he was a very troubled man.
    * * *
    ‘With all due respect, Your Excellency, why does the Navy Board not dispatch its own ships on this mission?’
    Horne’s question surprised Spencer. Looking over his shoulder, he studied the man sitting in the chair, his grey eyes dulling as he formed his answer.
    Turning from the map, he nodded, explaining, ‘His Majesty’s Navy are servants of the King, Captain Horne.When England signs a peace treaty with France—an event which we see as being imminent—England will be made to repay any gold taken in war.’
    ‘Does not the Company’s charter give it the same responsibility as the state, Your Excellency? Would not gold taken from a French ship by the Honourable East India Company also have to be returned by articles of an international treaty?’
    Spencer’s face softened. ‘Yes. But only if the East India Company could be directly connected with the … event—which it will not be if the attack goes as we hope it