The Marquis had pledged his word to the execution of his part of the scheme — the issuing of sealed orders to Dupont and the sudden reversal of orders at sunset to the captain of the port and the officers commanding in the batteries.
Night was coming on apace when Peabody in the Delaware began to make the first of his preparations for sea. Eight p.m., well after dark, was the time appointed for the start.
"We don't want to spoil the ship for a ha'p'orth o' tar," said Davenant when the time was being discussed — in other words, they did not want to risk disclosing their plans to any possible informers in Martinique for the sake of gaining an extra half hour perhaps of darkness; besides, by that time the first puffs of the land breeze would help to get them clear of the harbor.
"Mr. Hubbard," said Peabody. "We are leaving Fort-de-France tonight."
"Aye aye sir," said Hubbard; and then: "Pardon me, sir, but have you squared the port captain?"
"No," said Peabody. "But we'll be allowed to leave. The British squadron will be leaving at the same time. So will the Tigresse."
"Geewhillikins, sir," said Hubbard; the dark mobile face lengthened in surprise, and Peabody relented. There was no sense or purpose in keeping his first lieutenant in the dark.
"The unofficial armistice is still going on," he said. "All we're going to do is to catch this Haitian pirate, Lerouge. After that we meet again in Fort-de-France and start again on the same terms as before. I've given my parole to that effect."
"I see, sir," said Hubbard. He digested the astonishing information slowly. "It won't do the men any harm to get them to sea again for a time."
Curiosity struggled with discipline, and curiosity won in the end.
"Pardon me, sir," said Hubbard again. "But was this your idea?"
"Yes."
"It's a damned clever idea, too, sir, if you'll allow me to say so."
"I'll allow you to."
"The French'll be as pleased as Punch if we get this Lerouge out of the way. I suppose they've said so, sir?"
"They have."
"And we keep the ball rolling that much longer without risk to ourselves. Oh, that's great, sir."
"I'm glad you think so, Mr. Hubbard. We'll get under way at four bells in the second dogwatch."
"Aye aye, sir."
The land breeze was breathing very faintly when the Delaware got under sail in the darkness — she crept over the black water with hardly a sound of water rippling under her sharp bows.
"There's the Tigresse, sir," said Hubbard to Peabody, pointing through the darkness to where a faint nucleus of greater darkness was just visible.
"Yes," said Peabody, and he pointed in return over the quarter. "And here come the British."
The Calypso in the van could be almost recognized; the Bulldog in the rear was hardly visible at all, but enough could be seen to make plain how well-handled were the three ships in their line ahead. Peabody felt a queer feeling of comfort. For months he had been at sea in continuous imminent danger, with every man's hand against him and not a friend within call. Even though he knew this present interlude to be a brief one, there was something pleasant about having even temporary friends. The thought of friends carried his mind inevitably to his wife. By now she would have received his note: —
Dearest, I shall not be coming home tonight, as I have duties to perform in the ship. Please keep the servants thinking that you still expect me, as it is important that the news that I am not returning be delayed as long as possible. And will you please forgive me for leaving you like this, dear? It is my duty that takes me from you. Your father will explain why tomorrow. I shall see you again in a week.
That note had been hard to write — Peabody had written nothing except formal letters all his life. It had been the first time he had written the word "Dearest," and the first time he had ever written "dear" in the middle of a letter, but it had not been that which had made the writing hard. It had been hard to face the fact that he had not admitted his wife into his confidence, that in the deep secrecy in which the move had been planned he had not made an exception of Anne. But that was where his duty lay. Military secrets must be told to no one unnecessarily, and he had told no one. Anne, waiting for him, would be hurt and disappointed — that was what made it hard. Later she might be hurt again when she realized that he had not trusted her, and that would be harder still. Peabody drummed on the rail with his fingers, and then suddenly he knew that Anne would understand.
"Course south by east, Mr. Hubbard," he said.
"South by east, sir."
They would weather Cap Salomon now. In three hours — less if the breeze freshened as it should — they would be rounding Cabrit. It would be a long reach back to the Caravelle, but they should be there well before dawn, and the British, weathering Cape St. Martin in the opposite direction, would drive Lerouge straight into his grasp. In any event it was a joy to feel the lift and surge of the Delaware again beneath his feet, to hear the wind in the rigging and the music of the sea under her forefoot. Peabody recalled himself guiltily at the thought that at this very moment he might instead have been in Anne's arms — a wife certainly deprived life of its primitive simplicity in exchange for enriching it. It was an effort to dismiss the thought from his mind. A wife was a wife and his duty was his duty. He bellowed a sharp reprimand at the captain of the foretop and had the weather fore-topgallant studding sail taken in and reset, and, having relieved himself of some of this unaccustomed internal stress, he made himself go below to rest for a few hours before dawn. He was a little afraid as he composed himself to sleep, lest married life was softening him.
"Eight bells, sir," said "Washington, allowing the cabin door to slam as a gust of the fresh trades came into the stuffy cabin. "A clear night, sir. Ship's on the starboard tack, sir. "What shirt, sir?"
"The one I've got on," said Peabody, swinging himself out of his cot. "Bring me a cup of coffee on the quarter-deck."
Murray was officer of the watch; he came up in the darkness while Peabody sipped his coffee and studied the traverse board and the scrawled writing on the slate which constituted the deck log.
"We're nearly up to the Caravelle, sir. You can hear the surf on the cays."
"It's a nasty coast," said Peabody.
With all these Lesser Antilles, practically without exception, the Atlantic side, to windward, was without real harbors, and dangerous with reefs and cays. The main life of the islands was carried on on the leeward Caribbean side, where were to be found the anchorages and the large towns. The rule held true from Antigua down to Trinidad.
"Lay the ship on the other tack, Mr. Murray, if you please. I want to be five miles farther to windward by dawn."
Lerouge would certainly be taken by surprise. He would be aware of the dead end which had been reached in Fort-de-France by the Delaware and the British squadron, and he would be counting on a free hand until the matter had been decided and an action had been eventually fought and repairs effected; and he probably had sources of information in Martinique on which he would rely for ample warning. The sudden appearance at dawn of the British squadron would surprise him but would hardly imperil him; he would set all sail and leave them easily behind. But it would be a very different story when the Delaware, fast and handy, appeared right across his course, with the British spread wide in pursuit behind him. The moon was behind clouds and setting fast.