'God's bones!' Drinkwater blasphemed, turning to Martin, 'Stand up, man, he might recognize you if he's looking, and wave this damned flag!'
The next moment the three boats were lost amongst a welter of splashes as shot from both sides plunged into the sea around them. An oar was shivered with an explosion of splinters and then, as if comprehension dawned simultaneously upon the opposing gunners, fire ceased and the boats emerged, miraculously unscathed, except for the loss of the single oar.
A few moments later, as with canvas flogging O'Neal tacked the Alert and stood slowly seaward again, Drinkwater's bout led close inshore.
'Here,' he said, seizing the flag of truce from the shaken Martin, 'I'll take that now.'
Drinkwater stood up and braced himself. 'Very well, Mr Martin, that'll do.'
'Oars!' ordered the midshipman. The tired seamen brought their oars horizontal and bent over the looms, leaning on their arms and gasping for breath. The other boats followed suit and the three of them glided closer to the beach. Drinkwater could see the shakoed heads of artillerymen above the island's defences.
'Messieurs,' Drinkwater cried in his appalling French, 'donnez moi les maitres des vaisseaux Americaines. J'ai votre soldats ... voire amis pour ...' he faltered, and added 'exchange!'
A discontented murmur rose momentarily among the prisoners before Drinkwater snuffed it out with a harsh, 'Silence!' For a minute nothing happened, then an officer scrambled over the low parapet of the breastwork. They watched him walk, ungainly and bowlegged, through the sand of the foreshore towards the tideline.
Drinkwater nodded at the man who had disclosed the whereabouts of the Delia's crew. 'Vous parlez, m'sieur ...' he commanded.
After a few moments of animated conversation between the two men, in which several other prisoners attempted to intervene until Martin suppressed them, the officer tramped back up the beach, leaning in through an embrasure. A further wait ensued. Looking seawards, Drinkwater saw that O'Neal had brought the Alert round and the cutter's large bowsprit again pointed at Neuwerk as she stood inshore once more.
'I hope Mr O'Neal has a man in the chains, Mr Martin,' Drinkwater observed, indicating the approaching cutter, 'we can't afford to have him aground now the tide's fallin'.'
Martin screwed up his eyes and stared at his ship. 'I can see a leadsman, sir.'
Drinkwater grunted. 'Your eyes are better than mine.' He turned his attention back to the beach; the artillery officer was returning. At the water's edge he stopped and nodded, the plume of his shako bobbing.
'D'accord ...'
'Run her ashore, Mr Martin,' Drinkwater said, sitting down as he saw the first of the British masters emerging through the embrasure. 'Not a bad morning's work, eh? Squares our account, in a manner of speakin'.'
CHAPTER 20
Outrageous Fortune
'So,' said Lord Dungarth, drawing the stoppers, 'we somewhat gilded the lily did we not? Oporto or Madeira?'
Drinkwater poured the bual and passed the decanters to Solomon. The Jew gracefully declined and returned them to their host.
'Insofar as my sojourn amongst the stews of Wapping was concerned,' said Drinkwater, pausing to sip the rich amber wine, 'yes.'
'It was essential to contact Fagan,' Dungarth said, 'though your interview with Marshal Davout clinched the matter. There was no harm in dissembling at the lowest level ...'
'It was without doubt the very nadir of my self-esteem, my Lord. I'd be obliged if future commissions were of a less clandestine nature. A ship, perhaps ...' Drinkwater deliberately left the sentence unfinished.
'A ship you shall have, my dear fellow, without a doubt, but first a month or two of the furlough you have undoubtedly earned by your exertions.'
'I shall hold you to that, my Lord, with Mr Solomon here as witness.'
They smiled and Dungarth sent the Madeira round again. 'I have taught you the business of intrigue too well.'
'It is not a type of service I warm to,' Drinkwater said pointedly. 'However, from what Nicholas reported was said at Hamburg, we succeeded.'
'Oh, you succeeded, Nathaniel, beyond my wildest hopes.' Dungarth's hazel eyes twinkled in the candlelight and it was clear he was withholding something. Drinkwater felt mildly irritated by his Lordship's condescension. He was not sure he had endured the ice of the Elbe to be toyed with, cat and mouse.
'May I enquire how, my Lord?' he asked drily. 'I presume from the papers Madame Santhonax ...'
'I shall come to those in a moment. But now we have heard your story there is much we have to relate to you. Pray be patient, my dear fellow.' Dungarth's arch tone was full of wry amusement and Drinkwater, made indulgent by a third glass of bual, submitted resignedly.
'Your chief and most immediate success,' Dungarth resumed, 'lies with Fagan. His office as a go-between was discovered by Napoleon and used to compromise Fouche. The ignoble Duke of Otranto, by his bold initiative in raising an army to confront us on the Scheldt, has ably demonstrated that the French Empire may easily be usurped. Alarmed, his Imperial Majesty, having discovered Fouche had sent an agent to London, took Draconian action. The agent was Fagan. He arrived here last week. Before the week was out Fouche had been dismissed!'
'A malicious and fitting move by the Emperor,' said Solomon raising his eyebrows and nodding slowly. 'Almost proof that Bonaparte knew it was Fagan who first reported a trade opening between London and St Petersburg.'
Dungarth barked a short laugh. 'An engaging fancy,' he said, 'and knowing Nathaniel has a misplaced belief in these things, there is something else I should tell him, something more closely concerning his person.'
'My Lord ...?'
'You mentioned the widow Santhonax ...' Dungarth said pausing, 'and Isaac says you spoke of her at his house, intimating she might be behind my, er, accident ...'
'Dux femina facti,' prompted Solomon.
'What of her, my Lord?' Drinkwater asked impatiently, suddenly uncomfortable at this mention of Hortense. 'I have related all that passed between us at Hamburg and Altona. Whether or not she finally informed on me, I have no way of knowing. Why else was Dieudonne so placed to intercept us?' He sighed. 'But I am also of the opinion that she gave me what she considered was time enough to make good my escape.'
'I incline to your conjoint theory, Nathaniel,' Dungarth said, suddenly serious, his bantering tone dismissed. 'It is almost certain that she now enjoys some measure of the Emperor's favour, perhaps because Napoleon has divorced Josephine and married the Austrian Archduchess Marie-Louise. Doubtless he wishes pliable Frenchwomen to surround the new Empress, for the beautiful widow has been appointed to the Empress's household.'
'No doubt Talleyrand approves of the arrangement,' Drinkwater observed, 'but what of the papers she passed to me? If we are correct she took an enormous risk. Were they false?'
'Not at all! She is a bold woman and clearly placed great reliance on your own character. In fact they were proposals from Talleyrand himself, concerning the future constitution and government of France, proposals that he wishes me to lay before the cabinet and M'sieur Le Comte de Provence, [Later Louis XVIII after the Bourbon restoration and at this time resident in England] on the assumption that the days of Napoleon are numbered ...'
'And that if Fouche can achieve what almost amounts to a coup d'etat, then others can too.' Drinkwater completed Dungarth's exposition.