A Certain Threat (The Merriman Chronicles Book 1) (23 page)

The two ships anchored close to each other in the harbour at Dublin and in answer to a signal from the
Dorset,
Merriman had himself rowed across to the Viceroy’s ship.  Captain Knox met him as he boarded and shook his hand vigorously.

“
Damn fine ship handling Lieutenant, thought at first you were going to ram me for sure, but no, your turn was judged to a hair, never seen a finer piece of seamanship in all my years at sea Sir, never.  Now come below, the Viceroy and his companions are waiting to see you.  Must warn you though, he’s in a bad temper.”

The Viceroy, Lord Westmorland, proved to be an elderly man of medium height, rather portly and of irascible disposition, who opened his attack before Merriman was halfway through the cabin door.

“What do you think you are doing Sir, risking the lives of my friends and myself with your hare-brained scheme to catch a pirate who might, just might be involved in some mad plot to seize our persons.  Knox here tells me you believe the French are involved.  Now then Sir, explain yourself before I send a report to the Admiralty about irresponsible young officers acting above their authority.”  He paused to draw breath and Merriman took the opportunity to reply.

“
My Lord I shall be pleased to tell you more of this affair, my authority and the reasons behind my actions, but only to you.”  He looked pointedly round the cabin at the other passengers who were staring at him as if he was some peculiar specimen.

“
By God Lieutenant, this passes belief.  Do you know who these people are? Members of Parliament, prominent men of affairs in Ireland and all of us have been meeting with Mr. Pitt himself.  Out with it man, tell us what this is all about.”

“
No my Lord . I cannot until we are alone.”

“
This is affrontery of the worst kind. Your story had better be good enough to explain your behavior or I’ll see to it that you never command a King’s ship again.  Captain Knox, what do you know of this man?”

“
My Lord, I can only say that I believe you should hear him out and in private as he requests.”

The Viceroy glared at Knox and then at Merriman before turning to the other passengers. 
“I’m sorry Gentlemen, but if you would be kind enough to leave us.”

Once they were alone Lord Westmorland seemed to rel
ax a little.  He leaned back his chair and said “Now Lieutenant, what have you to say that cannot be said before my friends?”

Merriman launched into the account of all that had happened since the pirating of the Revenue cutter, his summons to the Admiralty
, his authority derived from no less a person than the Prime Minister and the Admiralty, the information that had come to his ears concerning the plot to capture the Viceroy himself and the other passengers, the recapture of the cutter and the certainty that the ship which had tried to stop the
Dorset
was French.  He made no mention of Lord Stevenage or Mr Grahame, merely referring to government agents with whom he was in contact and their understanding of the plotting between the French and the Irish rebels.

During this recital of events the Viceroy
’s attitude changed from anger to understanding of the situation.  “But tell me Lieutenant, why could you not tell me all this in the presence of my friends?”

“
Because my Lord there must be a spy close to, or a member of your party.  Consider Sir, for the French ship to be in a position to intercept this ship they must have known of your movements.  A messenger must have left London even before you did, to make contact with the French ship to warn them of your departure time.  They know how long it would take for you to reach Parkgate and set sail for Ireland and could then make a very good estimate of where you would be at any given time.”

“
My God, what a plan. But for you and your actions we could even now be prisoners of the rebels with little hope of life as Mr. Pitt could not possibly accede to their demands. Lieutenant, I apologize for my earlier attitude, it’s clear to me that you are an officer of great ability and my report will say as much.  Have you anything more to add?”

“
Yes Sir, two things. First, I have no real idea who in your company may be a traitor but it is thought in London that somebody of the Quality is involved. May I ask what you know of Sir William Forrester’s movements over the past week?”

“
Sir William? Do you suspect him?  Well, he only came back to join my party a few days ago.  He tells me that he has been up in the north of England for the past week or two so I think you are barking up the wrong tree there.”

“
It’s possible My Lord, but it is certain that he was travelling back from Ireland only a week ago and I know that he is consorting with people who are definitely involved with Irish rebels and the French.  May I suggest that you give that thought some consideration Sir?”

“
Indeed you may,” said Westmorland thoughtfully, “I’ll keep an eye on him. And the other?”

“
The French prisoners Sir.  The Irish I captured are in Colonel White’s custody here in Dublin, to be tried for murder and piracy and doubtless they will hang.  They are rebels anyway and should hang for that alone.  I have a French officer and several seamen in irons aboard my ship. I would not like them to share the same fate because they dared not disobey orders.  As war with France now seems imminent could they not be considered early prisoners of war?”  Merriman made no mention of the man Anton O’Flynn whom he determined to press into his own ship’s company.

“
Very well Commander, you are very persuasive, Send them ashore and I’ll see to it that they are treated as such..  However, you must return to give evidence at the trial of the rebels.”

“
Thank you my Lord, and now with your permission I should like to get back to sea and find Lieutenant Jeavons and his crew.”

“
Certainly Commander and may I say it is a pleasure to know a man of action instead of the sycophants and self-seekers with whom I am usually surrounded.”  His eyes twinkled as he gripped Merriman’s hand.  “When we all thought our two ships would collide before you turned under our stern to intercept the Frenchman I’d not felt such excitement for years.  Poor Knox was beside himself with anxiety, oh yes you were Captain, you can’t deny it.”

Knox grinned at Merriman,
“I admit I was worried at the time , but as I said before, it was a fine piece of seamanship.”

Back aboard his own ship Merriman was in a fever of impatience to find Lieutenant Jeavons and hear what had happened to that part of his plan.  Nevertheless he found ti
me to send Lieutenant Benedict and his men ashore under guard after telling them that they would not be executed but would be held as prisoners of war.

As
Aphrodite
left the lights of Dublin behind and encountered the first swells of the Irish sea, Merriman looked up at the sky.  Occasional glimpses of the moon could be seen above but heavier cloud could also be seen coming from the north-east.  He paced up and down for a few moments before addressing his officers, Lieutenant Laing and the Master.

Gentlemen, we must find the
Pilote.
If Mr. Jeavons has succeeded in taking the fishing boat, he will set a course to pass south of the Isle of Man to meet us.  You will oblige me by taking
Aphrodite
on a course to where we may expect to encounter them.  The weather will be against us and visibility may be so bad we may not even see her, therefore Mr. Laing, you will have extra lookouts placed.

“
One other point Gentlemen, the French ship
La Sirene
was heading south when we last saw her.  They may not realize that we know of their plan to seize the graphite, so I wouldn’t be surprised to find that she has changed course to try to meet the fishing boat off Ravenglass.  If so,
Pilote
will be in danger. It will be near dawn when we approach that area so I’ll have the ship prepared for action earlier than usual, guns will be loaded but not run out.  Oh, and have the cook give the men an early breakfast at their posts.  Meanwhile I’ll be asleep in my cabin, call me immediately there is anything to report.”

In his cabin, Merriman called for his servant Peters to brin
g him something hot to eat and seated himself at the table, cursing the last order he had given to Mr. Laing.  In his wish to appear to be the unmoved and iron nerved captain he had only succeeded in tying himself to his cabin.  Gloomily he picked at the fat pork fried in breadcrumbs which was placed before him, until he realized he was hungry whereupon he ate the lot, with a toddy to follow which Peters brought from the galley wrapped in cloth to keep it hot.

Later, as he lay in his cot fully dressed except f
or his coat and shoes, and not expecting to sleep, his mind wandered over the events of the last few days and the orders he had given.  Had he thought of everything?  Would they find
La Sirene
?
 
Had Jeavons managed to capture the smugglers?  How was Mr. Grahame recovering?  Was Helen nursing the man?  That thought set his mind racing in another direction.  Helen, was she really attracted to him or was he imagining it from a blush and a faint hand squeeze?

He pondered the problem, perhaps when this affair wa
s resolved he would have the opportunity to see her again, perhaps they might ------ maybe she would ----- ?

The next thing he knew he was being shaken awake.  It was Peters, 
“Captain Sir, Mr. Laing’s compliments and it’s almost dawn and they have sighted a ship and would you come on deck  Sir.”

It was a bitterly cold, gloomy morning with wet snow, almost rain, falling almost horizontally due to the high wind, but John Jeavons was feeling mightily pleased with himself as he walked up and down the  area known as the quarterdeck although it was but a small section of the maindeck of the
Pilote.
  The entire expedition to capture the raiding party of smugglers had worked like a charm.  The fishing boat had appeared shortly before midnight, displayed the signal and he had replied correctly.  As the boat came alongside, the smugglers were shocked to receive a blast of cannon shot over their heads and instead of a crew of French and Irish  they saw a line of marines with muskets.  They had no chance to resist and dropped their weapons immediately when the cheering seamen and marines poured onto the boat’s deck.

There had been no casualties on either side and now the smugglers were fastened down in the hold of
their own vessel with a guard of marines to keep them there.  Jeavons strode to the taffrail to look again at his prize, small though it was.  The boat was following astern with Mr.Andrews and a few seamen to sail her.  An added bonus to his success was the cargo of casks found in the fishing boat’s hold which the smugglers told him were full of graphite.   Couldn’t be better he told himself, there might be a bit of prize money out of that night’s work. And he rubbed his hands with glee.  Now all there was to be done was to sail for Dublin and hope to meet the
Aphrodite
on the way, although with the poor visibility they could easily miss one another.

Aboard
Aphrodite,
on deck, bundled up in a scarf and his oilskin coat and with his hat crammed tightly down to his ears, Merriman found the weather to have become worse.   It was snowing heavily, but the strong wind blew the snow into flurries which almost totally masked visibility which the feeble light of dawn did little to improve. The snow had formed a blanket over the deck and covered the masts and spars with a coat of white. He could see the figures of men trying to keep the flintlock firing mechanisms of the guns and the tubs of slow match clear of snow and Laing and most of the men he could see looked like snowmen and were looking out to starboard.

“
What is it Mr.Laing?”

“
Can’t say for sure Sir.  Man at the maintop said he saw what looked like a ship on the starboard beam but the weather closed in and he didn’t see it again .”

“
Very well Mr.Laing, have the guns run out quietly, then we’ll turn a point or two to starboard, see if we can find her.   If it is the French ship we will attack immediately so be prepared to take in the courses.”

The courses, the big lower sails, obscured vision and were always s
usceptible to fire from a glowing wad from the enemy guns. For these reasons they were usually furled before close quarter action.

“
Aye - aye Sir, word has gone round the men like lightning and they’re ready to fight.  They don’t want her to escape again.”

Silence fell except for the sound of water under the ship
’s forefoot and the creak of timber but even those sounds were deadened by the snow.  Merriman smiled to see Laing vainly waving his hand in front of him trying to clear his vision.  The snow seemed to be thinning but still he could see nothing, wait, what was that?, did he see something solid out there?  No ---- yes, yes a ship looming up out of the murk, was it the French?

The question was answered immediately by eruption of tongues of flame and sm
oke from the other ship’s side. 
Aphrodite
seemed to stagger as shot hit home in the hull, but most of the broadside went high, ripping holes in the sails and cutting ropes and shrouds. A backstay parted with a snap behind Merriman and he saw the topmen already climbing aloft to effect repairs.

“
Fire as you bear” yelled Merriman and his little nine pounders and one of the smashers bellowed their reply.  The concussion temporarily blew the snow away creating a gap through which Merriman could just see the stern of the other ship as
Aphrodite
closed with her.  There was the smashed window from their earlier encounter, as yet un-repaired, the French ship without a doubt, although Merriman had had no doubt about it.  The French were as ready for action as
Aphrodite
was and their first broadside had confirmed it.

Both ships were exchanging broadsides as fast as the gun crews could reload but Merriman was pleased to see that his guns were firing three times to the enemy
’s two, besides which the smasher was doing more damage than half a dozen of the other guns.  Even so, the main deck was already a shambles, with bodies of the dead lying along the centre line where they had been dragged to leave the deck clear for the handling of the guns.  Even as Merriman watched he saw a powder monkey just emerging from the hatchway with more cartridges for the guns, have his head smashed into red ruin together with the marine guarding the hatchway.

“
Mr. Laing We’ll strike while the iron’s hot. We’ll be alongside shortly and then we’ll board from amidships.  Have the boarding parties ready.   Mr. Oakley, Mr. Shrigley, run and tell the gun captains to load with grapeshot for the last broadside before we board.”

Merriman
turned to the men on the wheel.  In the increasing light he saw that they were not the same two who had been there when he came on deck and who were lying nearby in the huddled attitudes of death. The iron discipline of the navy had ensured that new men manned the wheel even as the dead were pulled away.

“
Bring her alongside, smartly now.” Merriman saw the two midshipmen racing back to their positions near him.  “You two will stay here; you’re not big enough for what’s to be done.”

He discarded his bulky oilskins as Owen appeared beside
him with his sword. He grasped it firmly as the ships crashed together.  Grapnels were thrown from both ships to hold them together.  The swivel guns blasted their charges of musket balls across the enemy deck just before the French swivels did the same. Fortunately only one of the French guns did any damage as the marine marksmen shot the gunners just as they fired.

“
Boarders away” shouted Merriman, launching himself across the gap between the ships’ rails.  He knew Laing and Owen were to his left and behind them his men eager to get to grips with the French. Owen was a fearsome sight as he wielded a cutlass in each hand, roaring his hatred of the people who had been responsible for his brother’s death. On his right Lieutenant St James was at the head of his depleted party of marines.  Although many of the French had been killed by musket balls fired from the swivels they were as eager to fight as the English and met them with a fierce determination. Cut and slash, parry and stamp forward, thrust and cut, feet slipping on blood and slush, standing on or tripping over bodies, men screaming in hate and agony.  As it continued Merriman became aware that Owen had ceased to shout and even his great strength could not long support the effort needed to fight so many Frenchmen.  He also became aware that they were not making any progress.

“
We can’t hold them Sir,” panted the marine Lieutenant as he thrust his sword into a man’s stomach and immediately withdrew it to parry a slash at his head.  “There are too many of them, we’re outnumbered.”  The press of men in front of him parted and Merriman saw the mysterious scarred Frenchman he had seen before.

“
Monsieur Moreau, I believe,” he shouted above the noise.

“
Oui Capitaine, and I believe you are the man responsible for ruining all my plans,” replied Moreau, “On guard Monsieur.”

He immediately attacked Merriman and within the space of a few clashes of their blades Merriman knew he was facing a superior swordsman an
d he was pressed further and further backwards until he felt the ship’s rail at his back.

“
My bird Captain, if you permit.”  The voice was St James’ as he smoothly interposed his sword and parried a cut to Merriman’s head.

Moreau stepped back.
“Ha! The redcoat who killed my Lieutenant.  I wanted to meet you.”  The two men met eagerly, the movement of the swords faster than the eye could follow until suddenly there was blood on the shoulder of St James’ coat.  Meanwhile around them the fight continued but the English were being forced back by greater numbers. A swirl of men separated Moreau and St James who were both forced to engage other opponents.

“
Back men, back to
Aphrodite
,” roared Merriman.  There were only a few of his men left aboard
La Sirene
now, desperately fighting with backs to the rail to hold back the French, when there was a sudden blast of canister from
Aphrodite’s
swivel guns over their heads and the hail of musket balls tore into the French .  In the stunned pause Merriman’s men swiftly regained their own deck, Owen helping the wounded marine lieutenant to clamber over the rails.

Merriman looked round to see his two midshipmen each with two seamen hastily reloading the two small guns.  The French surged forward to board in their turn but the
crack of light cannon fire halted them.  More men fell as shot erupted through French ship’s deck, striking them as they stood momentarily confused.

Lieutenant Laing was bawling orders to the men to reload the cannon and to fire when ready and Merriman co
uld see the French frantically hacking loose the cables holding the ships together.  They were obviously trying to break off the action.

The snow was still falling, but lighter than before when the flash and thunder of cannon fire blew the snow away again
and Merriman turned to see the revenue cutter
Pilote
passing the stern of the Frenchman before  turning to bring her other broadside into action, raking the
Sirene’s
stern again.  The cutter was too low to be able to fire directly along the
Sirene’s
upper deck, but Merriman could see that her small guns were at full elevation which was why the balls had come up through the enemy deck.

Then the
Pilote
turned onto the enemy’s disengaged side .  A mistake, as she immediately received a full broadside from the French cannon which had not yet been fired.  The small cutter staggered under the impact, lethal splinters of wood cutting men down on her deck.   Her topmast slowly collapsed bringing down most of the sails in a tangle of canvas and cordage, rendering her helpless.

As the ships moved apart both
La Sirene
and
Aphrodite
managed partial broadsides before the French ship drew ahead.

“
Mr. Hodges, see what you can do with the chaser,” yelled Merriman and to the helmsmen, “Bear away a point so that the starboard bow chaser bears on the French.”  As the other ship was disappearing into the murk the gun fired.  The shot impacted at the base of the French ship’s mizzen mast which crashed down alongside.

Unfortunately, the slight change of course brought more wind int
o
Aphrodite’s
sails and the fore topmast, already weakened in the earlier exchange of fire, swayed and then fell across the fo’c’sle, blanketing the guns and striking down the gunner and his gun crew. 
La Sirene
disappeared into the darkness and still falling snow.

Merriman dragged his weary mind to the problems of getting his ship back into fighting trim again.  Already the bos
’n and a party of seamen were swarming over the remains of the topmast and the flash of axes showed where efforts were being made to get rid of it   Other men were removing the wounded below and the heap of corpses at the base of the mainmast showed what price had been paid during the engagement. The
Pilote
was in a bad way and would need help as soon as possible.  Merriman turned to the men waiting for orders or waiting to report .

“
Hull’s sound below Sir,” this was the carpenter, “Apart from the mast down, there are some shot holes and smashed rails and the like.  Soon have those fixed Sir.  I spoke with the bos’n Sir and there is a spare mainyard we can rig to replace the topmast but it’ll take some time Sir.”

“
Very well Mr Green, get to it. I know you’ll do it as quickly as you can.”

Merriman looked at Lieutenant Laing, his uniform coat in tatters and blood splashed over his once white trousers. 
“Are you hurt Mr. Laing?”

The Lieutenant looked down ruefully at the remains of his uniform. 
“No Sir, not a scratch, the blood isn’t mine.”

“
Glad to hear it .  Now, how soon will we be able to fight?”

“
Very soon Sir, or as soon as the foremast is refitted.  We had four guns dismounted, but two can be back in use again very soon. The other two need new carriages Sir, so they must wait for the carpenter.  Mr. Hodges the gunner is dead and some twenty nine others killed and wounded, maybe more.  The Master and Mr. St James are both  wounded, Mr. Cuthbert seriously.  Here is Mr. McBride Sir, he’ll be able to tell you more.”