Norton, Andre - Novel 08 (12 page)

 
          
 
"Not all
England
was in favor of this war,"
Watts
pointed out. "But I do not mean that
all our helpers are English, no. Scattered about are Tory refugees,
American-born 'exiles' for the King's sake cumbering up lodgings in
London
—who are not quite that at all. If a
prisoner can once win free of Mill and contact certain people, he'll soon find
himself on his way to fight again. Sailors are almost like packaged goods being
delivered by the carter."

 
          
 
"I'd like a list of those 'certain
people’ " Fitz said.

 
          
 
Watts
chuckled. "Planning an unlucky voyage, my friend? I trust you have taken
all the proper precautions then, assigned your shares to your next of kin and
so
forth "

 
          
 
"You've assigned yours?"

 
          
 
"No," admitted the surgeon.
"Not that I subscribe to the silly superstition that to assign one's
shares is as good as signing one's own death warrant. But I'm lacking a soul to
assign them to—being without family or connections."

 
          
 
"And I'm in a like case," returned
Fitz. "For I can't believe that those at Fairleigh will ever have need of
cash; and as for my father's
kin "

 
          
 
"No, the Earl of Starr would never need a
privateers-man's gains to help line his deep pockets."

 
          
 
Fitz's fingers curled into fists. "How
did you know?"

 
          
 
"By that,"
Watts
put out a long finger and tapped the ring
on Fitz's left hand. "One of my hobbies is heraldy. Four stars above a
lion's head is an easy crest to remember. And your house has often been in the
public eye—and ear—in the past."

 
          
 
"I know nothing about the Lyons of
Starr," Fitz said between set teeth, "and care less!"

 
          
 
"Is this soup or stew?" He turned
with relief to the vast bowl the waiter had just placed before him.

 
          
 
"A little of both and
fit for all the godlings of
Olympus
!"
Watts
sniffed the fragrant steam. "I think I detect the lordly crab, among other
things."

 
          
 
Fitz was already spooning up his portion. The
tang of unfamiliar herbs laced the smoothness of the fish. And he was not above
wiping the soon-emptied bowl with a piece of bread in order to mop up the last
of its rich contents.

 
          
 
Watts
had
ordered a bottle of wine and now sipped delicately at a glass of his choice.
Once the first taste slipped across his tongue he relaxed.

 
          
 
"Pirates' port, indeed.
This is fit for fat George's own cellars—it is."

 
          
 
Fitz sighed and fingered the catch of the belt
which supported his hanger.

 
          
 
"How long do we roost here?" he
wanted to know.

 
          
 
"Until our worthy Captain unloads his
tobacco, plugs a few shot holes, and gathers some lead pills for the Channel
work.
Though I won't deny that I could find a short visit
ashore here a pleasant excursion.
Do you care to inspect the ramparts,
the venerable
church
of
Saint
Sauveur
, the fifteenth-century towers, or the Castle? I would not deprive a
young and growing mind of these rich treats."

 
          
 
"What I'd chiefly like," Fitz
returned frankly, "is to see some of these wild Malouin privateersmen
you've been telling me about. Biggs said were short of
men
"

 
          
 
"And you'd like to present him with a
couple. Why? Is it our worthy marine lieutenant's birthday?" inquired the
surgeon lazily. "Not that we would find the Malouin brand of marine
especially useful, I am afraid. They have a certain untamed freedom which would
not appeal to our Captain, liberal minded as he is upon such subjects. But
never fear
,
my young friend, if you wish to be Jack
ashore then we shall play that role. And better in the company of such an
elderly, steady hand as myself, than under the wing of some brave spirits I
could name. Don't guzzle that, boy—
it's
golden nectar
to be sipped more genteelly—not poured down the throat as if it were
Jamaica
rum!"

 
          
 
Fitz hurriedly lowered his glass.
Watts
had praised the wine, but to his
semi-educated palate it didn't taste much different from the two bottles of
stuff they had served to them in mess to celebrate their first prize taking.

 
          
 
"And don't fidget," warned his
companion. "I've reached that comfortable age when the delights of the
table have begun to mean something. I will not be hurried from them and it will
do you no good to squirm on the edge of your chair. Settle back and look about
you, sop up some of the atmosphere of this strange new world. Why must women
make themselves so hideous?" He indicated with an upraised fingertip a
city miss mincing along, footman and maid at her heels, her upswept mop of
dingy powdered hair making her hold her head at a disdainful angle. Fitz
decided that the narrow streets must preclude the use of coaches. When the
ladies of St. Malo went abroad, they did so on foot.

 
          
 
"Glass butterflies . . ." Fitz mused
aloud. "Anyway they looked like butterflies," he amended doubtfully
and craned his neck rudely to get another glimpse of the pyramid of hair.

 
          
 
"
Do,
do control
that overwhelming curiosity of yours. She might think you were smitten with her
charms and then we would have an indignant papa or suitor breathing down our
necks before we could gain the safety of our ship. Myself, I believe those
ornaments to be hummingbirds, without the added attraction of the honey. But if
you must gawk, we'd best give you something to gawk at." He glanced at the
bill the waiter had submitted and laid down the amount, waving aside Fitz's
demands to share.

 
          
 
St. Malo, for all its compactness and
smallness was a true treasure box of strange sights and sounds. Fitz had to be
dragged by main force from a gunsmith's shining display, and he, in turn, spent
precious minutes prying the surgeon out of the bookseller's. Though their destination
was the sailor's part of town, it was some little time before they reached it.
The sun was almost down and the quarter was awaking to its vigorous night life
when they entered it.

 
          
 
Truly the swarthy, brawny,
half-fishermen
half-pirates who strode the cobbles were of a different breed from the
shopkeepers. Fitz noticed the long-bladed knives handy in each sash belt and
the swaggering step which marked the arrogance of an undefeated fighting man.
Their own American uniforms attracted no little attention and many frank and
not altogether complimentary remarks flew back and forth around them.

 
          
 
Watts
dutifully escorted his companion into such of the waterfront taverns as catered
to the officers—though Fitz could distinguish little difference between the Malouin
officers and the men they commanded, either in dress or deportment. In the
third tavern they came upon a select party from the Retaliation, consisting of
Matthews, who was looking about, as
Watts
described him, with the disapproving nose of a
Massachusetts
parson at a hunt ball, Biggs, eating
heartily of stew, and Ninnes, who stared rather moodily and seemed ill at ease.
Matthews hailed
Watts
with an air of relief, and Biggs welcomed
his junior with a grunt which Fitz took to be one of approval. He followed
Watts
' lead and sat down at the table the others
had chosen.

 
          
 
"Cargo out yet?"
Watts
asked the sailing master.

 
          
 
"Nigh out. Th' Cap'n is talkin' th'
Frenchies into givin' us supplies. Wish he'd get some Christian rum outa 'em.
This swill's fit for hogs—not men." Matthews regarded the contents of the
thick glass before his place with marked distaste. "Rot out a man's guts,
it
would "

 
          
 
Biggs came out of the stew dish for air and
emptied his glass in a single gulp. "It ain't so bad, Noll," he was
generous.
"A mite on the weakish side, aye."

 
          
 
Ninnes drank without comment. He was paying
little attention to his tablemates, watching a group of men across the long
room. They were all Malouins and spending freely, as a row of empty bottles
under their table testified. The Breton chatter was beyond Fitz's powers of
translation, and he wondered why the lieutenant was so enthralled.

 
          
 
"...
a
den of
thieves . . ." Matthews was announcing sourly as the marine was drawn back
to the conversation.

 
          
 
"Could a privateering port be anything
else?"
Watts
baited him. "After all, some English
gentlemen could pay us the same compliment."

 
          
 
The Malouins were singing a tune that Fitz
found himself beating time to. One of the singers emphasized the end of each
chorus by bringing his bottle down hard upon the table. This amateur musical
director glanced up, caught Fitz's interested eyes, and grinned widely. A
moment later he was on his feet, walking with surefooted grace toward the
Americans' table.

 
          
 
"M'sieur," he sketched a bow,
"permit me, I am Alfonse Musat, first officer of the Sainte Anne,
privateer. We had the good fortune to enter the harbor in company this morning.
It has been a lucky voyage for both of us, no?"

 
          
 
His English was good, if heavily accented, and
the beaming good will with which he regarded their circle was contagious.
Watts
arose to the occasion.

 
          
 
"You are right, M'sieu' Musat. And you
must allow us to drink to a continuation of that luck! Will you join us—you and
your fellow officers, M'sieu'?"

 
          
 
"I, Alfonse Musat, will accept your
invitation. Those others, they do not have the English sufficient to speak. I
shall explain your kindness."

 
          
 
He raised his voice in a bull roar which
carried not only to the other table, Fitz thought, but probably all over the
harbor. And the cheers which answered his announcement proved that
Watts
' offer was thoroughly understood and
appreciated. The waiters trotted out with a second round of bottles which were
greeted eagerly, and Fitz found himself raising his glass in answer to a rapid
incantation of which he was not able to translate a single word.

 
          
 
This courtesy over, Musat pulled up a stool
and joined in the conversation with a will, addressing most of his remarks to
Watts
, whom he must have considered the ranking
officer.

 
          
 
"Your voyage has been long?"