As Bowen dealt the cards, he said idly, "I wonder what happened to Stevens?"
"Still a prisoner in the Rossignol, I suppose," Yorke said.
"And that damned Surgeon," Southwick growled. "I hope he has the gravel, or something just as painful."
"Ah, an interesting man," Bowen said. "But in no need of medical attention."
"Pity," Southwick commented.
"He's a man with an appointment, eh, Mr Ramage?"
"An appointment?" Ramage echoed. "With whom?"
"With what," Bowen corrected. "The hangman's noose at Tyburn, I was thinking."
"Aye, and Stevens, too."
"Stevens is a weak man," Bowen said quietly, as though giving a diagnosis to a relative. "I had the impression he was completely under the Surgeon's influence."
Yorke nodded his head in agreement. "That was the impression Much gave."
"They'll both escape the rope," Ramage said sourly, picking up his cards.
"How so?" asked Yorke. "Surely there's enough evidence against them?"
"Plenty of evidence, most of which we can provide. But how much admissible in a court of law? Even if all of it is, I think the Government will keep it quiet. Can you imagine the uproar in Parliament if it was revealed that most of the packets lost for the last year or two were captured because of the treachery of their officers and men?"
"Can't see how they can keep it quiet," Southwick said complacently.
"The only way the news could get out," Ramage said, "would be if you or I told an Opposition Member of Parliament. And that would mean a quick end to our naval careers. But you" - he waved his cards at Yorke and grinned - "could earn yourself the undying gratitude of the Opposition by telling them. You'd get the next safe Parliamentary seat that fell vacant and a baronetcy if they won the next election. Why, it could be the making of you!"
"If you call that being made! But are you serious in saying the pair of them will get away with it?"
"Well, the chances of my report being believed in detail are slender enough - though the broad terms might be accepted. But they'll dodge Tyburn all right. Assuming I'm believed, Stevens will be sacked. He'll get his ship back, of course, since he's the owner, but his Post Office contract will be cancelled. He'll have to pay for a new stern to replace the present rotten one. The Surgeon - he'll set up in practice in Falmouth, no doubt, and the old ladies will be thrilled when they hear his stirring tales of adventure on the high seas..."
"Let's concentrate on faro," Yorke said, sorting his cards. "The Devil take the mails; we seem to talk of nothing else."
A boat arrived alongside with Chamberlain's messenger early next morning. The letter he brought was brief: would Lieutenant Ramage, Mr Yorke and Captain Kerguelen call at the Agent's house at their convenience? There would be a carriage waiting at the quay at whatever time Lieutenant Ramage told the messenger.
When the three of them arrived at Chamberlain's house there was no waiting in the halclass="underline" they were hurried through to the office, where Chamberlain jumped up from his desk and shook hands with all the enthusiasm and vigour of a penniless uncle hoping for an allowance from three rich nephews.
"Aha! You saw the packet come in, I trust?"
"Yes," Ramage said. "Looks as though she could do with a new maintopsail."
"They will cut the foot so flat, man-o'-war fashion, that it chafes," Yorke said conversationally. "Means so much patching."
Kerguelen was quick to join the conversation. "I was surprised how few spare sails the packets carry. Privateers usually have at least one extra suit."
"They can afford it," Chamberlain said, hurriedly trying to contribute something and then going red at his tactlessness. "By the way," he added, making a great effort to sound casual, "I have a letter from the Postmaster-General."
"Indeed! And how is his Lordship?" Ramage asked politely, and before the Agent could answer, said to Yorke, "Didn't you have some question for Mr Chamberlain about the origins of fado?”
Yorke shuddered. "I did, but it's too sunny a morning to discuss such a mournful subject. And Lady Auckland?" he asked Chamberlain. "I trust she is in the best of health?"
"His Lordship does not say," the Agent said unhappily. "I expect he would if she wasn't," he added lamely but with little conviction.
Kerguelen thumped his chest. "Ah, but that English winter will soon be here, with all the rain and fog and coughs and fevers..."
"Quite," Chamberlain said. "Well, gentlemen, if you'd care to sit down..." He gestured to the chairs and unlocked a drawer in his desk with what he clearly hoped was a significant movement.
However, Kerguelen had thoroughly entered into the game that Ramage and Yorke had been playing, and commented to the Agent, with a lewd wink, "You leave your wife in England to brave that atrocious climate, eh, while you have your 'establishment' here in Lisbon?"
"Indeed I do not!" The Agent was shocked. "Mrs Chamberlain is here with me!"
"Ah, but things can be arranged more easily in Lisbon," Kerguelen said knowingly. His voice was amiable and Ramage decided it was his turn to add to the Agent's discomfort.
"Well now, I'm sure we're all very pleased to hear about Mrs Chamberlain," he said, his voise implying reproach that the Agent should waste time discussing his marital affairs when matters of state had to be decided, "but I do think you should tell us what his Lordship has to say."
Chamberlain's hands were pressed flat on the desk, the whitened nails revealing the pressure he was exerting in an effort to control himself.
"Certainly, Lieutenant, my apologies!" He reached into the drawer and took out a letter.
"His Lordship says the Act has been passed without a division - without having to put it to a vote," he explained in an aside to Kerguelen. "He has empowered me to pay the agreed sum, against a properly notarized receipt. A decision has been made concerning the ship after the prize crew has left her." He gave Ramage an appealing look, as if imploring him not to ask any further questions in front of Kerguelen. "He also says that Lord Spencer's orders to you are being sent under separate cover. In fact I have them here."
He took two packets from the drawer and passed them to Ramage. "Perhaps you would care to peruse them while Captain Kerguelen and I discuss the details of the payment?"
Only someone like Chamberlain would use a word like "peruse", Ramage thought, and took the letters. "I'll be in the hall." He left the room knowing Yorke would make sure the Agent made no slip.
Sitting down in the most comfortable chair, Ramage saw that the two packets were numbered and opened the first. Again his instructions were signed by Evan Nepean. After the usual "I am commanded by my Lords Commissioners..." the Secretary went on to mention the passing of the Act and that, although the Post Office agent would be dealing with the payment, he had been instructed to "act in concert" with Ramage concerning the exact time the French prize crew left the ship.
This time should be noted with precision, Nepean emphasized, because from that moment the Lady Arabella would be under Admiralty orders, not Post Office, and Ramage would be in command, his commission being contained in the packet marked "Number 2", which also contained the private signals and a copy of the Signal Book.
Any passengers on board should be brought home, Nepean continued. The original ship's company would be under Ramage's orders, and these instructions constituted authority to waive their Protections. Lord Auckland had sent instructions to the Agent covering this point, and should any difficulties arise, Ramage should apply to the senior British naval officer in Lisbon and show him the orders. Their Lordships were most concerned that Ramage should sail for Plymouth at the first possible opportunity, and forthwith report to them in London.