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"Mufti, that was it," Pelham crowed, holding out his tall mug for a second refill. "L'Ouverture's nigh illiterate, and cannot even speak halfway decent French, just their horrid Creole pate… patois, mean t'say. I say pate? Hmm."

"So, did your negotiations proceed to the point that we should offer congratulations all round, sir?" Peel asked him, sharing a look with Lewrie at Pelham's slip.

"Got a much better reception with General Rigaud," Pelham said, with a sly-boot's wink. "L'Ouverture was stand-offish, said he'd give Britain's terms a good ponder, though I think he was just stallin' for time to see what his putative master, General Hedouville, would do for him. Slavishly bound to France, is L'Ouverture, as we supposed, Peel. Slavish, hah! Rigaud, though… has fewer supporters and troops, but better organised and armed, and easily supplied through Jacmel, and a strong stone fortress to protect his rear. Whites, rich, landed Mulattoes and half-castes, the educated and civilised, as good as any in Paris 'fore the wars, and the ladies …! Not to boast, but in a lone week the presence of a mannered English gentleman allowed me more carnal pleasure than a whole six months on my Grand Tour of the Continent, ha ha! Rigaud would take hands with Hedouville in a heart-beat t'save his hide before L'Ouverture is sicced on him, but Hedouville's nothing substantial to offer him, not like we could. No British troops ashore this time, but artillery, shot, and powder, and enough arms, munitions, boots, and accoutrements to arm more of his followers. Enough horses to haul guns and mount a large, mobile force that could ride circles round L'Ouverture's barefoot infantry will turn the trick. Rigaud was all ears, let me tell you, and much more receptive! Almost slavering."

"So, you will recommend Rigaud to Lord Balcarres at Jamaica, to the Foreign Office, sir?" Peel asked with a troubled frown.

"Already have, Mister Peel!" Pelham bragged, "And lit a fire to gather all the arms, horses, and saddlery we may, soonest. Came here to do the same. The quicker Rigaud gets the goods the better; before Hedouville makes his offer. Then, on the pretext of L'Ouverture blocking British ships in his ports, even under false colours, we will blockade his parts of the island, to guarantee Rigaud's success."

"I trust you were discrete, sir," Peel went on, leaning forward. "And how did you get there?"

"Ain't stupid, Peel," Pelham griped, tossing off his third mug of punch, and rising to get himself another refill. "Maitland will lay that before him later. As for the how, I hired a small Bahamian boat, come to Kingston to trade, and was headed for the Turks and Caicos for salt. Went in my disguises, in and out of the bay at night, unseen… Sailed far West before turning for Jacmel, after, so no one ashore had a glimpse of us. Dressed as a sailor then, and Gawd what a stench it was, all lice and fleas for days! Played as if we'd come to buy coffee and such. But the hard part's nearly done, and as soon as we can get a convoy to Rigaud at Jacmel, we have Saint Domingue in our grasp."

"That boat. What were Bahamians doin'…?" Lewrie quibbled.

"Trading, I told you," Pelham bulled on over his objection. "A two-masted… whatever you call 'em, from an island off Great Abaco, where big merchantmen don't put in much, but completely English, not to worry, Captain Lewrie. Every last one of them sounded like a West Country peasant, or a Bristol dock-walloper. Place where they build a fair number of boats, they said. Long settled, but sparsely peopled, I think, and not much farmland, so it's trade where they can, or perish."

"Man O' War, Elbow, Green Turtle, Guana Cay… do you recall a name, sir?" Lewrie speculated aloud.

"Green… something edible," Pelham answered, shrugging, and sipping. "Green, boiled… disgusting? Anyway…! Rigaud won't be cheap, Mister Peel, but I held the price down to a quarter-million per year for Rigaud, and another quarter-million for his cronies and generals, so he can pay his troops, and hire on the bootless mercenaries we abandoned when we left the island. Those who've sided with L'Ouverture for the promise of a few puny acres of plantation land? Once they get wind of Rigaud having showers of silver coin, though, we may expect at least a tenth of L'Ouverture's army changing sides and haring down to South Province, and Rigaud's so-called Mulatto Republic. Two months, four on the outside, and Rigaud will be ready to take the field against L'Ouverture. Then, perhaps a year from now, we step ashore in triumph, Mister Peel… Captain Lewrie, having stolen a march on the French, and those pesky Americans, for good and all! With not only French Saint Domingue, but the Spanish half of Hispaniola in our possession, as well. Have to invade Santo Domingo! When Toussaint L'Ouverture's slave armies are broken, that's where he will flee, and den up. When congratulations are offered, you may rest assured I will feature your stalwart efforts in support of my endeavours in the most appreciative terms to the Crown.

"So," Pelham barked, beginning to look a touch bleary. "While I've been up north, what have you two been up to, in the meantime, to bedevil and dethrone Guillaume Choundas?"

Pelham, thankfully, was too engrossed in dipping himself a new mug of punch to take note of the uneasy silence that followed that enquiry; and with his back turned, he could not discern the queasy looks that passed between them.

"Damme, but this is an inspiritin' punch," Pelham enthused with a lip-smacking grin. "Sweet, spicy, but stout. What'd you say was in it? Rum, gin, brandy? No…"

"Captured Guadeloupe pineapple, Jamaican cinnamon, and allspice," Lewrie said, shifting about in his chair and crossing his legs to protect his true vitals. "Sweet, dark rum, aye, and a local, er… spirit-Why don't you tell him of our doings, Mister Peel?"

Peel mouthed a silent "Damn You!" at him, then plastered a grin on his face for Pelham's benefit and gave his superior a precis of the raid, the latest rich prize belonging to Hugues, and her captain's loose-lipped talk of Hugues blaming Choundas for her loss, with all of Hugues's expected profits. Peel laid out the intelligence they had gleaned from their prisoners, how much they knew about Choundas's staff, his current state of health, his dealing the ruin of his frigate to Hugues for two converted raiding vessels…

"Choundas now only has two corvettes under his direct command," Peel related, merely sipping at his own punch as Pelham continued his eager quaffing, and Lewrie had a single refill. "Hugues won't give up a single row-boat more, sir. We learned that Choundas escorted a store ship filled mostly with munitions to Guadeloupe, with very few spare spars or canvas for his own ships, beyond what they stowed aboard."

"Short-sighted, that," Lewrie felt emboldened to add, since Mr. Pelham was soaking up the report (along with the punch) in a most amenable fashion, even going so far as to utter the odd "Oh, well played!" and "Ye don't say!" every now and then.

"There is another small three-master, a captured American ship, at Pointe-a-Pitre, awaiting convoying to Saint Domingue, that bears a cargo of armaments," Mr. Peel carefully laid out. "Both await orders from General Hedouville, whether they go to L'Ouverture, or Rigaud. I… that is, we… do not think they will ever sail, though, with our foe Choundas stripped of strong escorts. Both corvettes are cruising far South on the Spanish Main for prizes…"