Beneath the aurora

The younger man had seen these moods of deliberate endeavour before and wondered then, as he wondered now, why he did not consider them reckless. He was certain that, in any other officer, he would have considered them so and was tempted, for an instant, to marvel at his own faith in Captain Drinkwater, but then fell victim to his professional obligation to listen and understand what was being said.

At their meeting in Leith Road, Drinkwater had told James Quilhampton the background of their mission. Now he expatiated, rationalizing the cascade of ideas that had occurred to him in the turmoil of the night.

'Something about the man Malaburn, the way he spoke to me, the coolness of his actions, bespoke purpose, James. Don't ask me how I know, one simply forms convictions about such things. He knew why Andromeda left Leith for Norwegian waters; he sprang a group of Yankee prisoners from Dartmoor and trepanned them to Leith to help him in the business of stopping us from thwarting the American rendezvous here in the Vikkenfiord. Suborning a carter who must have been a republican accomplice, and a host of republicans en route, to deliver and succour them is the work of no ordinary man. Then he bribes a boarding-house crimp and spirits them aboard a ship he knows to be short of men, or pretends to be, thereby arranging for their concealment at Leith. The master or mate of the Ada Louise must have been in his pocket and 'tis fairly certain they were in the plot, for they issued no slops to the new hands and merely put up with their presence until the press arrived.'

'So they appeared to be brought aboard Andromeda in the usual manner?'

'Yes, I imagine so. Tom Huke suggested the matter had been easy.'

'Too damned easy,' Quilhampton said slowly. He paused, then went on, 'And this Malaburn knew about that Neapolitan business?'

'Yes! I'm damned certain he did. He knew Leith was the point of departure ... Damn it, he must have known from the start, mark you!'

'The devil!'

'He planned to cause us to anchor and deliver us to the guns of the two American ships. Whether they are national men-o'-war or privateers matters little. Combined, they mount enough weight of metal to outgun us. Make no mistake about it, Mr Malaburn knew all about them, and us. He must have been overjoyed to see that Dane appear just as I thought we had beaten a timely retreat.'

'You knew nothing of the fort, then?'

Drinkwater shook his head. 'No. Nothing.'

'Your escaping serious damage and towing through the passage must have been what persuaded him to hide, then.'

'Yes. He had only the one chance with the men he had sprung from gaol. He could not confer much with them on board for fear of arousing suspicions and, when he appeared to have lost his opportunity, he sought to cause us maximum embarrassment. Between you and me, James, when we got clear of that confounded Dane, I was exhausted. I wanted Malaburn left until morning, but Huke ... well, no good will come of raking the matter over again.'

'You risked him doing something desperate like setting fire to the ship,' Quilhampton said in defence of the dead Huke. 'I would probably have done what Huke did.'

Drinkwater looked at his friend, but said nothing. 'Huke has dependants,' he heard Jameson saying, as a wave of weariness again swept over him.

'But why take Huke? Why not just hide and lie low?' Quilhampton asked. 'He could, in all probability, have evaded capture and slipped overboard at any later opportunity.'

Drinkwater sighed. 'He was desperate. He did not know what other opportunities might offer. I will pay him the compliment of saying he was a determined man. Huke's appearance was fortuitous; a bad blow for Malaburn. I don't suppose he meant to kill Huke, merely to wound him in the leg, to take him hostage. He could then negotiate with me…' Drinkwater frowned, still puzzling over those few brief words he had exchanged with Malaburn.

'The one thing that makes no sense, James, or at least I can make no sense of it, is the fact that he knew me, knew my character well enough to know that if he extracted some form of parole, he thought I would honour it. That is uncanny.'

'Perhaps you imagined it, sir.' Quilhampton's face was full of solicitude. 'I don't imagine holding a hostage binds one to a parole.'

Drinkwater was touched. He managed a wan smile. 'Perhaps. Anyway it is too late now. I shall never know.' He refilled their glasses. 'Besides, we have other work to attend to.' They drank and Drinkwater added, 'I am glad you brought Frey with you.'

'That was luck. I received a letter from him the very day I left Woodbridge. Catriona brought it to me as I was in the act of strapping my chest. I wrote to him and told him to come at once. It was just as well. The lieutenant in charge of Kestrel at Chatham had the energy of a wallowing pig. I had his bags packed too!'

'Well,' Drinkwater cut in, a hint of impatience in his tone, 'he'll do splendidly in Kestrel. I want you aboard here, in command in my absence.'

'Your absence, sir?'

'You are the senior lieutenant and I must have a man here who knows my mind. I'm taking Kestrel back into the fiord under a flag of truce…'

'But, sir, I can do that! It's my job!'

'Of course you can do it, James, but I've already a good idea of what the lie of the land is in the Vikkenfiord, and there's no purpose in your taking risks, what with Catriona and the child…'

'But, sir ...'

'But me no buts, James, you've already shaken my confidence in you by admitting you'd have done as Tom Huke did...' Drinkwater smiled and Quilhampton shrugged resignedly.

'If you insist'

'I do. It occurs to me that the appearance of Kestrel might persuade our friends that we have been reinforced out here. I may be able to wring some advantage out of the situation. At the very least it will provide an opportunity for reconnaissance.'

'Time spent in which is seldom wasted,' Quilhampton quoted with a grin. 'I had thought for a while that you intended to withdraw.'

'I cannot with honour do that. Besides, we have an objective still to achieve, and Tom Huke to avenge.'

'Welcome aboard, sir!'

Lieutenant Frey touched the forecock of his bicorn hat and grinned broadly as Drinkwater scrambled up on to Kestrets low bulwark.

'My dear Frey, how good to see you.' Drinkwater clambered stiffly down from the cutter's rail and shook Frey's hand.

'You damn nearly left without me, sir,' the younger man said lightly, the joke concealing a sense of affront.

'Not having my own command and occupying a rather difficult position at the Admiralty has left me somewhat bereft of influence,' Drinkwater conceded, and Frey caught a gentle reproach in his voice. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Drinkwater beat him to it. 'But I've made amends by giving you command for the day. Be so kind as to pass my gig astern under tow and, by the by, d'you have a sheet or a tablecloth on board?'

'We boast a tablecloth, sir, but why ...?'

'Hoist it at the lee tops'l yardarm and proceed into the Vikkenfiord. A flag of truce,' Drinkwater added by way of explanation at Frey's quizzical frown.

'Aye, aye, sir.'

Frey acknowledged the order and turned away to execute it. Drinkwater stared curiously about him. The cutter had not been new when he joined her at Tilbury in the winter of 1792 and she had undergone radical structural alterations some years later. She bore the marks of age and hurried restoration: scuffed timbers, peeling paintwork, worn ropes, patched sails and dull brass-work.