The Blighted Cliffs (11 page)

'My
husband,' she repeated. 'Sir Lawrence Cunningham. His duties often
take him to the castle. Why, Lieutenant, are you acquainted?'

Ducker
kept us moving at a brisk pace, for there was still some distance to
cover, but it was hard work when I fervently wished every step were
taking me backwards. My legs grew heavier with each passing minute,
and there was a familiar clench in my stomach; I began to regret my
generous helping of the fisherman's brandy. It did not help that my
breeches - or rather Sir Lawrence Cunningham's breeches, I thought
miserably - kept falling down, forcing me to walk with one hand
permanently clasped to my waist. Nor did it help to think what his
wife's rambling conversation might make of our encounter, or to worry
about what other injuries he might soon impute to me.

Far
sooner than I wanted, though doubtless too late for Crawley, we came
to the castle gate. My mood hardly inclined me to close observation,
but I had the impression of great angular towers and flint-pitted
walls looming all around. The sentry needed some persuading of my
rank, for doubtless most officers did not appear at the gate in
sagging funeral garb, but after some words from Ducker he let us
pass.

Through
heavy doors, up several flights of stairs, and past two plainly
dubious soldiers, I at last found my way to the appointed place.

'Better
never than late, Lieutenant.'

Crawley
berated me almost immediately, though I sensed from the mood of the
room that they had barely begun their business. There were five of
them around a broad oak table: two in red coats, two in blue, and one
dressed in a black that looked horribly familiar.

'I
see you have dispensed with your uniform as well as your watch.'

'I
beg your indulgence,' I apologized, for what seemed the fiftieth time
that day. 'My uniform was soaked through by the storm, and I had no
opportunity to make repairs. These clothes were borrowed from a house
where I found shelter.' I tried desperately to keep from looking at
Cunningham, but there was no avoiding the stare burning into me from
under that bone-white hair.

'It
seems Lieutenant Jerrold has yet to master the Dover weather,'
observed a voice from the head of the table, and laughter broke the
tension as I took the remaining seat. To my great dismay it was
opposite Cunningham, and next to Crawley.

The
man who had spoken, a colonel, wine-faced and with hair that no
longer needed powdering, made the introductions. He, it seemed, was
named Copthorne, and he held a high position at the castle which
necessitated his supervision of the measures against smuggling.

'Captain
Crawley you know,' he continued, 'but I do not think you will have
met Captain Davenant, though doubtless you have encountered his
reputation. He commands the
Lancelot
out in the Downs, and is here to offer us the benefit of his
experience.'

A
proud head inclined stiffly at the compliment, though Crawley blocked
any fuller view. I had heard of Davenant, though I would never have
given him the satisfaction of saying so. Even if, like me, you never
pored over the Gazette or the Chronicle, you could hardly escape the
fame this dashing frigate captain, 'our Nelsonic hope', had won for
himself. I suspected he would be insufferable.

'Beside
him sits Captain Bingham.'

An
army captain, this one, I surmised from the scarlet uniform. He
seemed much the same age as me, and must have had some income to have
bought his commission so young. The face was possessed of a lazy
confidence, but seemed friendly enough under its untended shock of
red hair.

'Captain
Bingham's company is routinely detached to act against the smugglers
onshore,' Copthorne was explaining. 'For all that Crawley tries to
take it into his own hands.' There were chuckles around the table.
'And Sir Lawrence Cunningham--'

'I
have had the pleasure,' I interrupted, before Cunningham could
get a gibe in.

'I
am aware,' said Copthorne sharply, and I groaned silently, for his
tone made it clear exactly what he knew. 'Sir Lawrence is here to
advise us on the judicial aspects of our war against the smugglers. A
most vital function,' he reminded me sternly. 'And he is also able to
use his position in the town to provide much-valued intelligence.'

'Which
brings me here this evening, Colonel.' Cunningham's voice had lost
none of its reptilian grate since last we spoke. 'I am told, by one
of my informants, that a cargo is to be landed tomorrow night,
somewhere down the coast towards Folkestone. I am also told that it
may be the work of the largest gang we have seen since the days of
Drake.'

This
seemed very significant to the others, but meant nothing to me. 'Sir
Francis Drake?' I asked innocently.

Half
the table erupted into great hilarity, while the other half, notably
Crawley and Cunningham, stared with open scorn. Bingham repeated my
question with some mirth, but Crawley seemed to have taken my evident
mistake as a personal slight, and was at pains to correct me.

'If
you had the least interest in performing your duty, Lieutenant, you
might well have troubled yourself to learn a little relevant history.
Had you done so, it is highly likely that you would have noticed the
prominent role played by the notorious, late and very much unlamented
Caleb Drake.'

The
name sounded familiar, though not from any particular acquaintance.
Perhaps I had heard it spoken in a tavern.

The
room fell into an awkward silence. The soldiers studied their cuffs
intently, while Captain Davenant simply seemed bored. I deliberately
avoided Cunningham's gaze.

'Well,'
said Copthorne with a discreet cough. 'I believe Sir Lawrence was
speaking.'

Cunningham
looked up. 'I am given to believe that we should expect two luggers
and a shore party. Perhaps fifty men in all.'

'I
take it, then, that a pair of riding officers will not suffice.'

Copthorne's
joke drew laughter. 'But a company of infantry could teach them a
lesson, I'll wager.'

'If
we find them,' said Crawley sourly. 'Your informant has given us at
least half a dozen reports in the last few weeks, Sir Lawrence, and I
confess I have yet to find truth in any of them.'

'My
agent,' retorted Cunningham, 'has provided half a dozen reports and
you have yet to make use of any of them. If you will insist on
scampering about the shore playing constables rather than exercising
the command appointed to you, it is hardly surprising that my
hard-won intelligence is squandered.'

Crawley
was unrepentant. 'Sir Lawrence, how often have I argued that
smugglers must be caught onshore? Otherwise it wants the wisdom of
Solomon and the patience of Job to prove to the courts where their
cargo was bound.'

I
guessed from the surrounding expressions that this was not a new
debate.

'Absolutely,
Captain Crawley,' Colonel Copthorne agreed. 'But Bingham's company
will see to that.
Orestes
will be needed to cut off the smugglers' escape to seaward.'

'Good
Lord.' Captain Davenant affected shock. 'You'll have to take your
boat out, you know, Crawley, and do some inshore work as well. Think
you're up to that, Lieutenant? Shallow waters near the coast, you
know.'

The
combination of a sneering tone and the word 'lieutenant' had given me
to think that he addressed me, but from the direction of his words,
and Crawley's white-hot face, it seemed that for once I was not the
object of contempt. I had grown so used to Crawley's courtesy title
of captain, and his obvious superiority, that I had forgotten he was
merely a fellow lieutenant. I found the thought relieving, though I
had not the least idea what Davenant was driving at.

'If
there's to be a pair of the smugglers,' said Crawley, trying to
maintain his calm, 'then
Orestes
will be outgunned. I shall need support, Captain Davenant.'

Davenant
sighed. 'Chasing after smugglers is hardly the best use of a
man-of-war, Lieutenant, and I doubt the admiral would happily
sanction it. Certainly not while a whole French fleet remains out of
harbour and unaccounted for. But...' He lifted a hand theatrically.
'I may be able to "turn a blind eye", as they say, to the
admiral's instructions. I suspect he will indulge me a little
measured disregard.'

This,
I presumed sourly, must be the 'devil-take-'em' spirit so applauded
by the press.

'We
shall rely on you, then,' said Colonel Copthorne. I don't believe he
was taken in by the posturing for a moment, but he had what he
wanted.

'I
shall endeavour to be there.' Davenant straightened his lapels.

'And
if I fail, Crawley, you'll just have to take them on at two to one.
It's been done before, you know.'

'Excellent.'
Copthorne rose from his chair. 'Captain Bingham's company will seal
off the beach,
Orestes
and
Lancelot
will block the seaward route, and Sir Lawrence can send them off to
the colonies. A fine plan.'

'And
we can all pray that the French don't plan their invasion for
tomorrow night,' finished Bingham.

'With
Mr Fox and his Whiggish friends now in Whitehall,' said Cunningham
stonily, 'I should have thought that Buonaparte could happily leave
his entire army in Austria. It can hardly be long before the little
Jacobin leading our government signs us up to whatever peace the
Corsican tyrant offers him.'

His
rant silenced the conversation instantly; as soldiers of his Majesty,
none of us could acquiesce in such a scathing slander of the
government. I wondered that Cunningham was boor enough to put us in
so awkward a position.

Once
again, it was Colonel Copthorne who found a tactful retreat.

'Buonaparte
must be cursing himself,' he said. 'If he'd waited six months before
abandoning his invasion camps, his two greatest obstacles, Pitt and
Nelson, would have been removed.'

This
was too much for the noble Captain Davenant. 'Come, Colonel. His
greatest obstacle was the navy. We didn't all die with Nelson, you
know.'

'Well,
if peace docs come,' said Copthorne, pouring from a decanter, 'the
first article of the treaty had best be for the full restoration of
good brandy. I've had a devil of a time getting this.'

In
the midst of the discussion I saw Crawley preparing to leave. As he
had had nothing to drink, and evidently little to say, I was hardly
surprised. I was inclined to follow him, for I had no desire to spend
any longer in Sir Lawrence's company, but before I could move I felt
a tugging on my sleeve, and turned to see Captain Davenant standing
by me.