"No, sir."
"Sergeant Leese!" Hoare croaked, but when he realized that his loudest whisper would not override the tumult of voices in the room, he again gave his piercing "all hands" whistle for attention. At his beckoned summons, Sergeant Leese wove his way through the stilled crowd and came to attention before his Commander. He brought his ranker with him.
"Sir!"
Hoare had just repeated his special orders when a brisk, square, sandy-haired Captain pushed through the outer door and, to a repeated, "Make way there; make way!" strode up to him. He bore an epaulet on either shoulder, signifying more than three years' seniority.
"Who are you, sir?" he demanded. Hoare named himself.
"Oh. Sir George's pet ferret. Might have known you'd be about. I'm Trelawney, commanding Devon, 64-senior officer present, I understand. Sir George Hardcastle's duties devolve upon me until he can resume them, I fear. Pity. We just completed repairs and could have weighed anchor for Gibraltar tomorrow."
Hoare glanced at Patterson, the flag Secretary, for confirmation. Patterson looked relieved, as well he might.
"That's correct, Captain Hoare," he said.
"Correct, man? Of course, it's correct," Captain Trelawney snapped. "Said it, didn't I? Now, Hoare, tell me what this is all about."
"First, sir, I respectfully submit that there are many persons in the room who have no particular reason to be here…"
"Yes. Out, all of you, all but you, Patterson…"
Hoare whispered in Trelawney's ear.
"And you Marines."
When the anteroom had emptied, Trelawney turned to Hoare.
"Well, Captain Hoare?"
Hoare still felt a flutter of joy when a superior officer addressed him as "Captain." He now told Trelawney all he knew, omitting only his removal of the paper that rested in his bosom.
"But to tell you the truth, sir, I have yet to learn the details of the affair. From what I could see below… it was a running battle, beginning at the entrance to Admiralty House and continuing as Sir George and Mr. Delancey withdrew, into the building, up the stairs, and into this office."
"A fighting withdrawal, then, into the citadel." Captain Trelawney's voice was filled with approval. "Meeting resistance before him and assaulted from behind, the enemy broke up in disorder. I would have expected no less of Sir George. He's a hard and a merciless man, as you know."
"But Sergeant Leese here can tell us more, sir. As I said, Admiral Hardcastle mentioned that the Sergeant and his men drove off the attackers."
"Well, Sergeant?"
Leese assumed the parade rest position, hands clasped behind his back like a small boy reciting before the class, and began.
"I been patrollin' the port nightly since we come into Portsmouth, sir, with two of my men, so's to keep a weather eye out for trouble between our shipmates and hands from other ships what don't admire our seamanship in Royal Duke.
"We'd rounded the corner and was comin' up on Admiralty House 'ere-about three bells, it would 'a' been- when I saw the Jolly at the door was missin' an' 'eard what you might call a disturbance on the upper deck. An', well, me an' me lads was in there at the double, an' up the gangway before you could say, 'Jack Robinson.' When we got into thisyer room, I saw they was a gang of men- coulda been the Press but for where it was and but for most of 'em 'avin' knives instead of clubs. They was attackin' two officers. The officers was down but fightin', an' the gang was a-takin' turns a-givin' 'em the boot. They was some five or six 'ard coves a-workin' over the officers, sir, an' one more of 'em a-standin' back like 'e was a-givin' the orders.
"We run up to break up the fightin', an' I seen one of the officers was Admiral Hardcastle. Couldn't miss 'im, 'ardly. So the three of us pitches in, drops two of the gang, and the others run off. I left one of me lads up 'ere an' give chase. Took three of 'em. That's all, sir."
"So you and your two men drove off a gang of six attackers, all bearing knives?" Trelawney asked.
"Well, sir, the two officers 'ad been a-puttin' up quite a fight, and the others, they didn't all 'ave knives. Some of 'em just 'ad clubs."
"Even so… You have a formidable crew, it seems, Captain Hoare, even if they're no seamen."
"Not seamen yet, sir, perhaps, but they will be before long," Hoare whispered. "Leese, where's your other man?"
"Baker, sir? Left 'im below, sir, a-guardin' the prisoners. 'E'd got cut up a bit 'imself, and I wouldn't have 'im a-messin' up the floors 'ere in Admiralty House even worse than they be now."
"We might see what the prisoners look like, sir," Hoare whispered inquiringly to Trelawney.
"Damn, sir, don't whisper-beg pardon, Captain." Captain Trelawney must have recollected Hoare's muteness and, unlike many, had the courtesy to apologize for any discourtesy.
"Yes. Let's have a look at 'em, by all means," the Captain continued.
Sergeant Leese led the two officers below and out the Admiralty door into the torch-lit darkness, where a small crowd of mixed onlookers still loitered about. One at least was a gentlewoman, and an oddly familiar one at that, for Hoare heard an unmistakable seagull titter.
"Come away, damn you, Lyd!" It was the croaking voice of Martin Frobisher. "We've no business here!"
"But I want to see! Where's Walter? I want Walter! Let go of me!" There was a scuffle. Hoare had no time to crane about in search of the speakers, for Captain Trelawney, preceded by Leese, was thrusting through the crowd.
"There he is!" called a woman's voice.
"Wot's the green man, an American?" asked another.
"No, ye fule, 'e be one oft' Yeomen oft' Guard."
Guessing wildly at the tenor of the calls, Hoare concluded that one of the assaulted officers-Delancey, probably-upon his leaving as his Admiral had ordered had given the people a brief account of the fracas and the part Leese and his men had played.
"Where did you station Baker and your prisoners?" asked Trelawney.
Leese took them around the corner of Admiralty House and into the mews that lay behind it.
Three disordered heaps lay against the back wall of Admiralty House, lit by the waning moon. Two were in civilian dress, still bound hand and foot, as Leese had left them. From their turned-out pockets, they had been thoroughly searched. Their throats had been cut.
The third body, badly cut about the arms, which still gripped its rifle, wore Rifleman's green. It had been stabbed deep in the back, and its head was missing.
"A formidable crew, perhaps," Captain Trelawney calmly observed to Hoare, "but not always unbeatable, it seems."
Chapter VIII
Go right in, Captain Hoare," Delancey said. "Sir George is expecting you."
Despite his fading black eyes, Admiral Hardcastle's Flag Lieutenant looked quite sprightly, in Hoare's opinion- even smug. Hoare remarked as much to him as he passed.
"Yes. He's given me the Niobe brig," Delancey said. "Eighteen guns. We're to join the Mediterranean fleet in three weeks' time."
Hoare wished him well in his new command.
The Admiral still wore his arm in a sling and the gauze about his wounded throat, but he, too, was clearly recovering apace.
"I'm pleased to see you looking so thrifty, sir," whispered Hoare. "The other night, when I saw you last, you looked like death… And Mr. Delancey is obviously none the worse for his experience, though he still looks as though he's gone forty rounds with Tom Cribb. I gather he stood by you manfully."
The Admiral began to nod, then winced and stopped himself as though the motion hurt his head.
"Indeed, he did, Hoare, and I'm seeing him recognized for it, by God. I've ordered him into Niobe, 18, as soon as she's rigged. But I imagine he's told you that; he's quite puffed. He'd been mopin' so much over losin' my Felicia to young Gladden, I'd already about decided to rid myself of him."