'There is nothing to alarm us in the sight of a British fleet, Captain. Your seventy-fours have barely five hundred men on board, they are worn out by a two years' cruise; you are no braver than us, indeed you have infinitely less motive to fight well, less love of country. You can manoeuvre well, but we have also had sea-experience. I am confident, Captain Drinkwater, that we are about to see the end of an era for you and a glorious new era for the Imperial Navy.'
Drinkwater thought at first Santhonax was rehearsing some argument that he would later put to Villeneuve, but there was something sincere in the speech. The guard was down, this was the soul of the man, a revealed intimacy born out of the long years of antagonism.
'Time will tell, Colonel.'
Santhonax rose. 'Oh yes indeed, Captain, time will tell, time and the abilities of your Admiral Nelson.'
Chapter Eighteen
The Spectre of Nelson
Drinkwater woke refreshed after a good night's sleep. He had been led from his interview with Santhonax to an upper room, presumably an officer's quarters within the barracks, which was sparsely, though adequately furnished, and served a plain meal of cold meat, fruit and wine. He had later been asked for and given his parole. When this formality had been completed his sea-chest was brought in by an orderly and he was returned his sword. He was refused leave to see the others but assured that they were quite comfortable.
For a long while he had lain awake, staring at a few stars that showed through the window and listening to the sounds of Cadiz; the barking of dogs, the calls of sentries, the periodic ringing of a convent bell and the sad playing of a distant guitar. He went over and over the interview with Santhonax, trying to see more in it than a mere exchange of words, and certain that his instinct was right and that Santhonax was there, in Cadiz, to force Villeneuve to sea. Eventually he had slept.
With the new day came this strange feeling of cheerfulness and he drew himself up in bed, a sudden thought occurring to him. He had been groping towards a conclusion the previous night, but he had been tired, his mind clogged by all the events of the day. Now, be began to perceive something very clearly. He had grasped Santhonax's purpose all right, but only half of its import. Santhonax's last remark, his sneering contempt for Nelson, was the key. He knew that few of the French admirals were contemptuous of Nelson, least of all Villeneuve who had escaped the terrible débâcle of Abukir Bay. But Santhonax would not sneer contemptuously without good cause; he had impugned Nelson's abilities, not his character. In what way was Nelson's ability defective?
And then he recalled his own complaint to Pitt. It was not a defect so much as a calculated risk, but it had twice cost Nelson dearly. Nelson's blockade out of sight of land had allowed Brueys to slip out of Toulon to Egypt, and Villeneuve to slip out of Toulon to the West Indies. Now, although he had Blackwood up at the very gates of Cadiz, it might happen again. If the wind went easterly the Combined Fleet could get out of Cadiz and would not run into Nelson unless it continued west. But at this time of the year the wind would soon swing to the west, giving the Combined Fleet a clear run through the Straits of Gibraltar. Nelson was fifty miles west of Cadiz. He might catch up, but then again he might not! And Napoleon was supposed to have decamped his army from Boulogne. They had not gone west, so they too must be marching east! Of course! Drinkwater leapt from the bed and began pacing the little room: Austria had joined the coalition and a small British expeditionary force under General Craig had gone east, he himself had escorted it through the Gut! The ideas came to him thick and fast now, facts, rumours, all evidence of a complete reversal of Napoleon's intentions but no less lethal. Craig would be cut off, British supremacy in the Mediterranean destroyed. That was why Ganteaume had not broken out of Brest. He could tie half the Royal Navy down there. And that was why Allemand had come no further south. He could not break through Nelson's fleet to reinforce Villeneuve but, by God, he could still keep 'em all guessing! And last, the very man whom Nelson had sent Antigone to guard against cutting Louis off in Gibraltar, Admiral Salcedo at Cartagena, had no need to sail west. He could simply wait until Villeneuve came past! It was a brilliant deception and ensured that British eyes were concentrated on the Channel.
Drinkwater ceased pacing, his mind seeing everything with a wonderful clarity. He felt a cold tingle run the length of his spine. 'God's bones,' he muttered, 'now what the devil do I do?'
His plan of the previous evening seemed knocked awry. If he added reasons persuading Santhonax that urging Villeneuve to sail was advantageous to Nelson, would Nelson miss the Combined Fleet? If, on the other hand, Villeneuve was left alone, would Nelson simply blockade him or would he attempt an attack? The long Mole of Cadiz could be cut off by the marines of the fleet and a thousand seamen, the anchorage shelled by bomb-vessels.
'This is the very horns of a dilemma,' he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the door of his room opened and Tregembo entered with hot shaving water. The sight cheered Drinkwater.
'Good morning, zur,' the old Cornishman rasped.
'God bless my soul, Tregembo, you're a welcome sight!'
'Aye, zur. I was passed word to attend 'ee, zur, and here I am.' Tregembo jerked his head and Drinkwater caught sight of the orderly just outside.
'Are you and the others all right?'
Tregembo nodded and fussed around the room, unrolling Drinkwater's housewife and stropping the razor.
'Aye, zur. All's as well as can be expected, considering…'
'No talk!' The orderly appeared in the doorway.
Drinkwater drew himself up. 'Be silent!' he commanded, 'I shall address my servant if I so wish, and desire him to convey my compliments to my officers.' Drinkwater fixed the orderly with his most baleful quarterdeck glare and went on, as though still addressing the French soldier, 'and to let 'em know I believe that things will not remain static for long. D'you hear me, sir?' Drinkwater turned away and caught Tregembo's eye.
'Not remain static long,' the Cornishman muttered, 'aye, aye, zur.' He handed Drinkwater the lathered shaving brush. They exchanged glances of comprehension and Tregembo left the room. Behind him the orderly slammed the door and turned the key noisily in the lock.
The silly incident left Drinkwater in a good enough humour to shave without cutting himself and the normality of the little routine caused him to reflect upon his own stupidity. It was quite ridiculous of him to suppose that he, a prisoner, could have the slightest influence on events. The best he could hope for was that those events might possibly provide him with an opportunity to effect an escape. At least he had Tregembo as a go-between; that was certainly better than nothing.
All day Drinkwater sat or paced in the tiny room. Towards evening he was taken down to walk in the courtyard, seeing little of his surroundings but enjoying half an hour in the company of Quilhampton and the two midshipmen.
'How are you faring, James?'
'Oh, well enough, sir, well enough. A little down-hearted I fear, but we'll manage. And you, sir? Did you see Santhonax?'
'Yes. Did you?'
'No, sir. By the way, I trust you have no objections, but our gaolers have allowed Tregembo to look after us. I hope you don't mind us poaching your coxswain, sir.'
'No,' said Drinkwater, brightening, 'matter of fact it might be a help. He can keep up communications between us. Have you learned anything useful?'