Again the air in the alley was wonderfully fresh, and he walked with a lighter step. He was not gratified merely at being out of doors again, nor of having, as Dungarth had eloquently put it, baited the eagle, but because he no longer had to dissimulate. Nathaniel Drinkwater was not cut out to play games in brothels, nor to be a spy.
CHAPTER 3
The Jew
It was not, Drinkwater reflected as he waited for an answer, a duty normally expected of a senior post-captain, to be waking up Jewish merchants in the middle of the night, notwithstanding the usefulness of the race both to the officers and the men of His Majesty's navy, or, in the matter of high finance, to His Majesty's government. However, in the event, there were mitigating and somewhat personal circumstances that encouraged him.
He had made the journey from Wapping to Spitalfields without mishap or interference, if one excepted the invitations of the score or so of raddled drabs too caried to work under the roof of a respectable house. He had passed a few roistering jacks, a brace of kill-bucks slumming it down from St James's, two decrepit parish Charlies and the sentinels outside the Royal Mint.
Drinkwater heard the heavy bolts withdrawn and the door opened a trifle.
'Captain Waters, Mr Solomon.'
'Come in, come in.' Drinkwater felt the Jew pluck his sleeve. A lamp illuminated the hall and a faint odour of unfamiliar cooking filled the air.
'I apologize for the lateness of the hour, Mr Solomon.'
'There is no need, Captain, it is as arranged. Pray follow me.'
Solomon's study lay off the hall, a comfortable, book lined room, with a large desk on which sat piles of ledgers, and an exotic landscape in oils above a fire of sea-coal.
'As you see,' Solomon said, indicating a chair, 'I was working. Please be seated. You will find a glass and decanter beside you.' He held up his pale hand at Drinkwater's query. 'No, I do not indulge.'
Drinkwater sipped the claret. After the raw rasp of gin, the rich Bordeaux was revivifying. 'You have no idea how excellent this is, Mr Solomon,' he said.
'Would you like a bath, Captain? It will not take long to arrange. You will want hot water for a shave and his lordship has sent fresh clothes for you.'
'I fear I stink a trifle.'
'A trifle, Captain, but you have been successful, yes?'
'Indeed. The bait was well swallowed. If I mistake not, the news will be in Paris within the week. And you and the ship?'
'They expect you to arrive at any moment. You are to sail as a supercargo, sent, I have told the master, by the consigners. He is aware that certain high placed individuals have an interest in his cargo,' Solomon smiled. 'So prevalent is the practice of revenue evasion that the matter was easily arranged, as was your assumed status. The master, Captain Littlewood, has accepted the fact that the ship is cleared outwards at the Custom House in your name. You may make such private arrangements as you require once at sea.'
'That seems satisfactory. What news of the gun-brig?'
'Your man joined her at Harwich two days ago. She will be at the rendezvous by now. Will you sleep an hour while the water heats?'
'A moment more of your time, Mr Solomon ...'
'Of course, how can I be of service?'
Drinkwater stood and undid his waistcoat. 'Forgive me a moment ...' He turned away and drew from within his breeches a small baize bundle. 'I would appreciate your opinion, Mr Solomon, as to the value of this.'
He rolled the heavy nuggets of unrefined gold on to Solomon's desk where the light sparkled on the gritty irregularities of their surfaces. Drinkwater watched the Jew as he bent over the gold. His sensitive fingers reached out and he cupped them speculatively in one hand.
'Where did you acquire these?'
'From a dead man in California.'(See In Distant Waters)
'California?'
'A province of Spanish America.'
'What is your title to it, Captain?'
'A spoil of war, I imagine, though doubtless a law-broker would argue differently. It was found by an American citizen in a land claimed by Spain, Russia and Great Britain, somewhere beyond the rule of all but the most natural law — that of possession. I am not a greedy man, Mr Solomon, but I have obligations beyond my means, dependants I have collected in the course of my duties and for which the state bears the moral burden but which it has abandoned to my ingenuity. I offer you ten per cent of the value if you can dispose of them without fuss.'
From a drawer Solomon drew a small box and lifted out a set of hand held scales. He weighed the nuggets, nodding with quiet satisfaction.
'I think this avoirdupois will make your burden considerably lighter, Captain,' Solomon said wryly. 'It would be premature of me to mislead you, but upwards of two thousand pounds would seem possible. I see that surprises you, well, well.'
Drinkwater shut his foolishly gaping mouth. Solomon smiled.
'Now, an hour's rest, and then a bath.'
Drinkwater slept well, luxuriating in clean linen and down pillows. Later he broke his fast in Solomon's study. The Jew's quiet manner gave the impression that while his guest slept he had been busy, and, even as Drinkwater drank his fourth cup of coffee, Solomon bent industriously over papers and ledgers on his desk. From within the house came the noise of a banging door, a snatch of children's laughter and the sound of a family. The noises shocked Drinkwater with the pain of nostalgia and he tore his mind from the contemplation of such things. Beyond the windows, the raucous bedlam of Spitalfields market intruded. Drinkwater watched Solomon. He was deeply touched by the man's solicitude, the clean linen for his soiled body, the hip bath, warm towels and an apparently copious supply of hot water. Dungarth might have suggested the clean underdrawers, the starched shirt, breeches and stockings, but Solomon had attended to the details and Drinkwater was vaguely ashamed of his suspicion of the Jew.
From time to time a confidential clerk, a Hebrew like his master, came and went upon errands concerned with Solomon's business interests. After one of these Solomon looked up and, seeing Drinkwater had finished his breakfast, smiled and removed the spectacles from his nose.
'I trust you have had sufficient, Captain?'
'To the point of over-indulgence, Mr Solomon, but I think the bath the kinder thought on your part.'
Solomon inclined his head, then pulled out his watch. 'You will be wanting to leave shortly ...'
'There is one small matter that has just occurred to me.'
'Please ... ?'
'Would you be kind enough to advance a small sum against the gold?'
'Of course, but I have yet to advance you the money for contingent expenses.'
'No, this is a private request. Say twenty sovereigns?'
'Of course, Captain.' Solomon rose and from a fold in his robe, produced a ring of keys. Bending to a safe behind his desk, he drew out two purses. From the larger he took a handful of coins and placed twenty pounds on the table. The other he held out to Drinkwater. 'Two hundred and fifty Maria Theresa thalers, Captain, on account.'
Drinkwater took the purse and pocketed the coins.
'They have not the value of your specimen, Captain, but they are more readily negotiable.'
'Indeed they make me the more apprehensive, though I confess to a fit of nerves when confronted with the pimp last night. He would have had rich pickings even if he undervalued the sale. You wish me to sign a receipt?'