Bolitho followed him to the cabin hatch, seeing the eyes watching from both deck and gangways, the way they studied his every move, as if to discover something.
Le Chaumareys said casually, 'I hope Maurin took good care of you?'
'Very, thank you. His English is excellent.'
'Yes. One of the reasons I chose him for my ship. He is married to an Englishwoman.' He chuckled. 'You, of course, are not married. So why not a French bride for you, eh?'
He threw open the door and watched Bolitho's reactions. The cabin was large and well furnished, and like the rest of the ship, vaguely untidy. Lived in.
But Bolitho's attention was immediately drawn to a table which was laden with food.
Le Chaumareys remarked, 'Much of it is locally obtained.' He jabbed a large joint with his finger. 'Like this. It is very much the same as smoked ham. You must eat your fill, while you can, eh?' He chuckled, the sound rising from what Bolitho now saw to be a large belly.
He replied, 'I am here to present
The other captain wagged a finger. 'You are aboard a French ship, m'sieu. First we drink.'
He shouted a brief command and a servant hurried from the adjoining cabin with a tall crystal jug of wine. It was extremely good, as cool as spring water. Bolitho glanced from the jug to the table. Genuine? Or was it one more trick to show they were superior, even in their supplies and comforts?
A chair was brought for him, and when he was seated Le Chaumareys seemed to relax.
He said, 'I have heard of you, Bolitho. You had a fine record in the war for one so junior.' His eyes did not flicker as he added, 'It was difficult for you. The unfortunate affair of your brother.'
Bolitho watched him calmly. Le Chaumareys was a man he could understand. Like a duellist. Relaxed one moment, making a thrust the next.
He said, 'Thank you for your concern.'
The small head bobbed back and forth. 'You should have been in these waters during the war. Independence, an ability to work beyond the reach of some admiral, eh? I think it would have fitted you well.'
Bolitho felt the servant refilling his glass. 'I have come to speak with Muljadi.'
He tightened his grip on the glass. It had come out just like that, as if the words had been lying in his mind for months instead of seconds.
Le Chaumareys stared at him with amazement. 'Are you insane? He would have you screaming for death in a moment, and I could not help you. No, m'sieu, it would be a lunatic thing even to think of.'
Bolitho said, 'Then I will return to my ship.'
'But what of your Admiral Conway? His despatches? Is there nothing from him for me?'
'It would be pointless now.' Bolitho watched him warily. 'Besides which, you are not here as a French captain, but as a subordinate to Muljadi's authority.'
Le Chaumareys took a deep swallow from his glass, his eyes slitted against the reflected sunlight from the windows.
He said abruptly, 'Listen to me. Curb your impatience. As I have had to do, when I was your age, eh?' He looked around the cabin. 'I have my instructions. I obey them, as you must yours. But I have served France well, and I am near finished in the Indies. Perhaps I made my services too valuable to be allowed home earlier, but that is as may be. I know these seas like my own face. During the war I had to live off the islands for food and shelter, for repairs, and to glean intelligence about your patrols and convoys. When I was told to continue in these same waters I resented it, but I suppose I was flattered also. I am still needed, eh? Not like many who fought so bravely and are now without bread.' He looked at Bolitho sharply and added, 'As in your country, too, no doubt?'
Bolitho replied, 'Yes. It is much the same.'
Le Chaumareys smiled. 'Well then, my impetuous friend, we must not fight again! We are too much the same. Needed one minute, expendable the next!'
Bolitho said coldly, 'Many have died because of your actions. But for our arrival at Pendang Bay all the garrison would have
I been killed, and you must know it. A Spanish frigate was des= troyed to delay our arrival, to allow this Prince Muljadi to give his piracy some sort of repute, to make him an ally of France, and a constant threat to peace.'
Le Chaumareys' eyes widened. 'Well said. But I had no part in Nervion's destruction.' He held up one large fist. 'Of course, I heard about it. I hear many things I do not like. That is why I brought the Spanish commandant here to parley for his garrison's safety. He was still the representative of his own King. He could agree to terms which but for your intervention would have given Muljadi certain rights in Pendang Bay.' He became very grave. 'I did not know an attack would be launched the very moment I had left the bay! You have my word, as a French officer!'
'And I accept it.'
Bolitho tried to remain calm, but could feel the blood tingling in his veins like ice water. It was exactly as he had imagined. A set, calculated plan which had begun perhaps in Europe, in Paris and London, even Madrid, and which had almost worked. But for his decision to take Undine and the Nervion's few survivors to their destination, and Puigserver's arrival in Pendang Bay, the matter would be settled, and Le Chaumareys probably on his way home at last, his work done, and done well.
He heard himself say, 'I have come to take the commandant back to his own kind. Don Luis Puigserver, the King of Spain's representative, will be expecting his return.' He hardened his tone. 'Is Colonel Pastor still alive? Or is his death another thing you know of but did not approve?'
Le Chaumareys stood up and moved heavily to the quarter window.
'He is here. A prisoner of Muljadi's. In that ruin on the hill. He will never allow you to take him, dead or alive. His presence can still give legality to his demands. Can show that
England is unable to honour her word and protect the rights and citizens of Spain. A hard story to believe? But time and distance can make truth a mockery.'
'Then why would Muljadi fear to see me?' Bolitho watched him as he moved away from the window, his face lined and grim. 'I'd have thought he would have been eager to throw his power in my face.'
Le Chaumareys walked across the cabin, the deck creaking under his corpulent frame. He halted by Bolitho's chair and looked directly into his eyes.
'It is I who fear foryou, Bolitho. Out here, in my Argus, I am Muljadi's arm, his reach. To him I am not merely a sea captain, but a symbol, a man who can spring his plans into reality. But beyond these timbers I cannot answer for your security, and that is the truth.' He hesitated, his eyes still on Bolitho's face. 'But I see I am wasting time. You are determined, no?'
Bolitho smiled gravely. 'Yes.'
Le Chaumareys added, 'I have met many Englishmen in war and peace. Some I liked, many I hated. Few did I respect.' He held out his hand. 'You I admire.' He smiled sadly. 'A fool, but a brave one. That I can admire.'
He rang a bell and then gestured to the table. 'And you eat nothing.'
Bolitho reached for his hat. 'If what you say is true, then it would be wasted, eh?' He smiled, despite his tumbling thoughts. 'And if not, I will have to content myself with salt pork in the future.'
A tall, lank-haired officer entered the cabin, and Le Chaumareys spoke to him swiftly in French. Then he picked up his own hat and said, 'My senior lieutenant, Bolitho. I have changed my mind. I am coming with you.' He shrugged. 'Curiosity, or to prove my original beliefs, I know not which. But without me you are a dead man.'
When they reached the quarterdeck Bolitho saw there was a boat already alongside, and that the gangways were filled with silent spectators. Having a good look, he thought grimly. A one-way journey, if he had miscalculated.
Le Chaumareys held his arm. 'Listen to me. I am older, and, I expect, wiser than you. I can have you taken back to your ship. You will suffer no disgrace. In a year all this will be forgotten. Leave politics to those who daily dirty their hands without remorse.'