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"One last little matter, Hainaut," Choundas interrupted, almost as an afterthought, which beguilingly coo-some tone to his voice froze Hainaut's innards, "and then I will let you refresh yourself."

"Of course, m'sieur" Hainaut replied, sinking back down onto his chair with his knees ready to buckle.

"Did Lewrie and the Americans," Choundas posed, leaning back in his own chair and toying with a loosely folded sheet of paper with his left hand, "seem as if they lay in wait for you? Dash straightaway for our ships? Could you see any sort of light or signal which might have drawn them to Lieutenants Houdon and Pelletier and their prizes?"

"All but the compass binnacle lights had been ordered doused m'sieur" Hainaut answered, unable to avoid looking perplexed by such a question. "They did steer directly for the two larger groups, just as soon as they heaved up in view, yes, now that you mention it. But that was near dawn, and even the binnacles had been snuffed by then. It is possible that they kept mast-head lookouts aloft after dark, or sent theirs aloft earlier than ours, m'sieur. But I did not get the impression that they lay in wait for us. It was an unfortunate thing that we were spotted by the lead ship in their patrol line furthest to the Eastward, but… did they operate together to intercept any ships returning to Guadeloupe, they surely would have known to search as far to windward as possible."

"Such a fortuitous… coincidence, though, do you not believe, Jules? Hein? Following the first inexplicable fortunate coincidence off Basse-Terre, when we lost Le Bouclier and the arms shipment? You do recall that, I presume." Choundas sneered, all arch and Arctic cold. "Or the recent loss of a rich merchantman just off Deshaies not a week ago, when Lewrie and Proteus just happened round Pointe Allegre, just at the instant that a Capitaine Fleury's ship cleared the cape?"

"I was not aware of that loss, m'sieur" Hainaut said, frowning.

"No, I am now certain that you were not, for you had no way of knowing the day, or the hour, of her sailing for home," Choundas told him. "She was betrayed, cher Jules.

"Just as you were betrayed, just as Le Bouclier and Capitaine Desplan were betrayed," Choundas gravelled in a hoarse, rasping voice. "Fleury, and that fat fool Haljewin, are prisoners on Dominica, though at least Fleury had the wit to write me of his taking, of being for a brief time a prisoner aboard Lewrie's frigate. Fleury carefully wrote a veiled account of his ordeal, in a crude but workable cypher known to me. You remember that despicable old salaud who interrogated you when you were captured in the Mediterranean, the wicked Zachariah Twigg, or Simon Silberberg, whatever he called himself?"

"I do, m'sieur" Hainaut gasped for real. "Unfortunately."

"He is here, Hainaut!" Choundas barked, slamming his left hand on the desk-top, and making clerk de Gougne nearly jump out of his skin. "Fleury described a civilian with Lewrie who named himself as a John Gunn, but from the description I conclude was really Twigg's old aide, a British agent named James Peel. Seeking my destruction, just one more time, they have brought Twigg out of retirement and paired him and Lewrie to destroy me and all my works. So far, they succeed, Jules."

"Mon Dieu" Hainaut whispered. "Surely not, you…"

"Not through luck, not through guile or superior numbers, non" Choundas snapped, "but through treachery. Twigg, Peel, and Lewrie are being assisted by a spy, a whole cabal of spies and traitors operating here on Guadeloupe, Jules. Under my very nose. On my own staff, among commissaire Hugues's most trusted people. Under my very roof, hein?"

"Su… surely you cannot suspect…!" Hainaut blustered, awash in sudden fear that his master thought it was he!

"I did, dear Jules," Choundas whispered, as malevolently cruel as a hawk honing beak and talons before tearing its quaking prey into gobbets. "Twigg had you for weeks before exchanging you for British midshipmen. The thought had crossed my mind, understandably so, n'est-ce pas?" Choundas even took a moment to roar with abusive amusement at Hainaut's gulping and blinking torment. "As false as you have played me all these years, you did make me wonder."

"False? M'sieur, really…!" Hainaut flummoxed.

"Don't pretend undying loyalty, Hainaut," Choundas snapped, now thin-lipped and flushed in aspersion. "I am not completely blind, nor am I deaf. You love only yourself, Hainaut. No shame in it, so long as when you dissemble energetic fealty to France you are useful to her… and to me."

"Master, I…"

"Do not even try to swear your undying gratitude, or loyalty." Choundas cautioned.

"While you were at sea, things on Guadeloupe have taken several turns for the worse, or the better, depending," Choundas gloomily said, grimacing with distaste. In the harsh, badly angled candlelight, his face resembled that of a satanic ghoul from folk or children's stories. "It seems that Paris is not happy with our unproductive little war on American trade. Commissaire Hugues has been a thoughtless glutton for money, Hainaut. He's sold privateering commissions throughout the Caribbean, in every Dutch, Danish, and Spanish port, not just to Frenchmen. Asks for an additional share of the proceeds from our local privateers, and uses his Prize Court to inflate the value of the captures for those who go along with him, and for his own gain. Naturellement, that makes for outright piracy preying on our allies, too, and threatens to upset what coalition the Directory has been able to muster against the hated British! It took me some time to discover all of this, but-"

"And now you are prepared to use it against him, m'sieur" Jules Hainaut said, more than happy for Choundas to turn his bile away from him, against another obstacle. Hainaut took a peek at "the Mouse" to see if Etienne de Gougne was disappointed that his grilling was ended, for the nonce, that the little clerk's hopes of seeing him broken were dashed, and silently relished the nonentity's tiny moue.

"I am, indeed, Jules," Choundas told him, smiling and nodding, "for Paris has seen fit to send us a senior official to look into the matter. One of the Directory's ridiculous creatures, all booted and spurred, in a Tricolore waist sash, and all those silly plumes on his hat… Desfourneaux is his name. I shall see him tomorrow, to lay my evidence before him. And suggest to him that Hugues has so ruined the credit of our privateering commissions that, for the moment, only good French corsairs remain legal, and that the best of them are conscripted into naval service whether they like it or not, to sail as warships… temporarily… to salvage the Republic's good name."

"Under your command, not Hugues's," Hainaut crowed, marvelling at his master's deviousness. "Magnifique, m'sieur. Masterfully done."

"Desfourneaux will clean up the piratical corruption Hugues has fostered, Perhaps he even has orders to place Hugues under arrest as a witless fool, who has driven the Americans into league with the 'Bloodies.' That piece of news you bring me will spur Desfourneaux into even quicker action to remove Hugues," Choundas slyly boasted.

"With Hugues, his staff, and his corrupt circle suspect as well," Hainaut congratulated with a sage snicker, "who, one wonders, might be left to become the new commissaire civil of Guadeloupe, m'sieur? With care, and a becoming outward disdain for greed, the vacant post could still prove extremely profitable… and pleasureable… for the one who proves himself capable, n'est-ce pas?"