The Flag of Freedom (17 page)

‘ “A permanent state of war exists between the followers of the Prophet and all infidels”,' put in the Governor dryly. ‘Unless they have had the foresight to make a peace treaty – involving a substantial bribe, of course.'

‘It has become a convenient means of raising revenue,' Imlay confirmed. ‘When Prince Yusuf came to power, he demanded new treaties with all those nations whose shipping might be said to be “vulnerable”. Eight of them complied – for a total sum, I am told, of three hundred thousand piastres. That is to say, about twenty-five thousand English pounds. To be paid annually.'

The Governor gave it as his opinion that this was cheap at half the price.

‘Regrettably, President Adams was not of that opinion,' Imlay told him.

‘Hence the attack on the
Saratoga
.'

‘Was she not armed?' Nathan put in, for he was aware that the corsairs had a greater respect for a decent broadside than for a decent bribe. And they were wary of offending the major maritime powers. Attacks on the shipping of Britain, France and Spain were rare – though this might change now that the British fleet had pulled out of the Mediterranean.

‘She was armed – but insufficiently it appears. The ship that took her was the
Meshuda
, of twenty-eight guns and three hundred and sixty men, commanded by a former British seaman – a Scot by the name of Lisle, who jumped ship at Tripoli and turned renegade. He now calls himself Murad Reis and the Pasha has appointed him
Capudan Pasha
, his Admiral of the Fleet. I thought you would like that,' he added, noting the expression on Nathan's face.

‘How do you know all this?' Nathan asked, for Imlay had not previously impressed him with his knowledge of the Barbary Coast.

‘I have my sources,' Imlay replied with a sly look.

‘The British Consulate in Tripoli has become involved in the business,' O'Hara affirmed, though with some reluctance, Nathan thought. ‘You might say certain …
negotiations
have been entered into.'

‘They have asked for half a million dollars in ransom,' Imlay explained. He acknowledged Nathan's expression with a grim smile. ‘It amounts to about a tenth of the entire Federal budget for a year, I am told – and has caused considerably more outrage in Congress than the news of
the original capture. But, unhappily, the Federal government lacks the means of redress. President Adams has authorised the building of a small Navy to protect our trade, in both the Mediterranean and the Atlantic, but the first ships are still under construction. In my view, they are not likely to be at sea until the end of the century. And in the meantime, the poor wretches from the
Saratoga
are being held in the Red Castle in Tripoli. Apparently they are being reasonably well treated, but this could change at any moment. The Pasha is notoriously unpredictable, I am told, and while his general demeanour is not without charm, he is given to sudden violent rages. If their ransom is not paid, they are likely to be sold on the slave-market and their future would then be very bleak. Very bleak indeed – as I imagine you are aware.'

‘Most of the men would end up in the galleys, chained to an oar for the rest of their lives,' the Governor supplied helpfully. ‘Or humping stones on a building site. And the women, of course, would be sold into the harems, either as servants or concubines.'

‘Or in Miss Devereux's case, I imagine, kept for the Pasha's private enjoyment,' Imlay added, looking at Nathan as if he had a personal interest in the matter. Nathan was puzzled. Was it possible that Imlay believed there had been some intrigue between them while he was in Venice?

And what did he expect Nathan to do about it?

He was not long in doubt.

‘As I have already informed the Governor, I have been authorised by the Federal government to negotiate the release of the captives,' Imlay informed him.

‘You are going to Tripoli?' Nathan's suspicions increased.

‘I am. And to add weight to my powers of persuasion, I am to proceed in a ship-of-war suitably equipped to exact retribution if negotiations break down and the captives are subjected to further torment.'

‘An American ship-of-war?'

‘In a manner of speaking, yes.'

‘But I thought you said the ships were still on the stocks.'

‘I did. I meant a private ship-of-war, hired for this particular purpose.'

‘And you possess such a vessel?'

‘I do. At least, for the duration of hostilities, as it were. It is presently moored in the harbour here in Gibraltar, but in want of a proper crew, I am afraid – and, more particularly, a Captain.'

Nathan's wits had been dulled by his recent incarceration or he would have realised where this was going. But he had been living with his own company – and a map of the cosmos – for far too long.

‘You had been better hiring a privateer in Malta,' he advised. ‘The Knights of Saint John are very well used to dealing with the corsairs of the Barbary Coast – they have been fighting them for centuries. Indeed, most of them are corsairs themselves – and a sight more predatory than the Moors, from what I have heard. I am assured you would have no difficulty in hiring a fully equipped vessel with both Captain and crew, if you were prepared to make it worth their while. And do not mind working with rogues,' he could not help adding.

Imlay acknowledged this contribution with a tolerant smile. ‘I had hoped that
you
might be interested,' he said.

Nathan stared at him for a moment. Then he flicked a glance at O'Hara. The latter's expression was carefully neutral.

‘But I am an officer in His Britannic Majesty's Navy,' Nathan pointed out. ‘I cannot go harum-scarum about the Barbary Coast in a private ship-of-war, putting the fear of God into the natives.' He glanced at the Governor again. ‘Not unless I have been dismissed the service and no one has thought to inform me of it.'

‘There is no question of that,' O'Hara hastened to assure him. ‘But if the offer is of interest to you, I am informed their lordships will put no impediment in your way.'

Nathan was unimpressed. What was that supposed to mean? He was not dismissed the service, but he might go to hell in a handcart and serve the Devil, so far as their lordships were concerned, so long as he did not knock at
their
door for employment.

‘No, it will not do,' he insisted. ‘I would have to resign my commission. And that is out of the question. If their lordships wish to get rid of me, they must do it in the proper manner – with a court martial.'

‘My dear sir, I assure you there is no question of a court martial, nor of anyone wishing to “get rid of you”.' The Governor's voice rose in irritation, as if Nathan's imprisonment had been a slight misunderstanding, an inconvenience which a true gentleman would tolerably overlook. ‘The fact is that this mission, if you were to undertake it, would
be of considerable service to their lordships. And, of course, to His Majesty's Government.'

‘In what way?' Nathan raised a brow. ‘There are no British subjects involved.'

‘No, but there are British
interests
involved. Very much so. How can I put this to you?' O'Hara replenished his glass in the hope of inspiration. ‘We cannot send the fleet back into the Mediterranean,' he went on, ‘or even a solitary ship-of-war, not without a single base east of Gibraltar and the fleets of France and Spain – and Venice, for that matter – combined against us.'

This was a soldier speaking, Nathan reflected. He could never imagine Nelson saying that, or even St Vincent. They would happily take the lot on.

Perhaps the Governor had come to a similar conclusion. ‘At least not until we know for certain what the French are up to,' he added hastily. ‘This gives us an opportunity to find out.'

‘I am not sure that I follow you.' Nathan was being obtuse, and he knew it, but he had learned from recent experience. He needed the Governor to spell it out for him. Or preferably write it down with no ambiguity.

‘After your mission to Venice,' began Imlay, who had an alarming facility to read Nathan's mind on occasion, ‘you sent a report to their lordships concerning French intentions towards the Middle East …'

Nathan favoured him with a hard stare. This report had also been headed
Most Secret
. ‘What intentions were these?' he enquired.

‘That General Bonaparte was contemplating an invasion of Egypt as a stepping stone to India.'

Nathan flicked a glance towards O'Hara but the Governor appeared unmoved by the course the conversation was taking.

‘I formed the impression that certain of their lordships were far from convinced by this report,' Imlay continued blithely. ‘That they may even have thought you had made it up – or were deliberately misled – and that the French intention was to invade Ireland instead, or even England herself.'

‘Just how much
do
you know?' enquired Nathan acidly.

‘Their lordships were gracious enough to speak quite freely to me,' Imlay assured him in his most irritating manner. ‘I was not told how you came by the information, of course, nor do I wish to know. But it would avoid unnecessary … prevarication … if you were to acknow ledge that I am fully aware of the substance of this report.'

‘Oh, I do acknowledge it,' Nathan confirmed. ‘I am merely surprised that their lordships felt free to discuss it with a man who not only has no allegiance to the British Crown, but was until very recently in the pay of the French.'

He heard a small gasp from O'Hara. Either he did not know of this, or considered it an improper subject to raise at the dinner-table.

‘I pray you will not trouble yourself with the past,' replied Imlay, ‘when we have so much that should concern us in the immediate future.'

‘But surely it is relevant to know where your true loyalties lie,' Nathan persisted. ‘Particularly if we are to work together in the future.'

‘My true loyalties are to my country,' Imlay stated.

‘Which is not Great Britain.'

‘Which is not Great Britain,' Imlay conceded. ‘However, recent events have persuaded certain members of my own government that French interests and their own are not necessarily identical.'

‘Really? And what has made them come to this astonishing conclusion?'

Despite his tone, Nathan was not at all surprised by Imlay's contention. The French alliance had helped to secure American independence from Great Britain and the two nations had remained on good terms after the war had ended. But of late there had been a distinct cooling in their relations. French privateers had declared open season on American merchant ships in the Atlantic; the slightest suspicion that they were engaged in trade with Britain and they were seized as contraband and hauled into French ports. Stern warnings had been issued that if this continued, it would lead to a state of hostilities.

Even so, it was difficult to see how the French invasion of Egypt might conflict with the interests of the United States.

Nathan took it upon himself to mention this. ‘Nor can I imagine their lordships losing much sleep over the fate of a few American sailors in Tripoli,' he added bluntly. ‘Or even of a beautiful young woman.'

‘Mr Devereux has many friends in England,' the Governor interposed. ‘Friends in high places, you might say. But you are right. It is not their lordships' chief concern. Their chief concern is the possibility of a French expedition to the Middle East.'

Nathan was astonished. ‘Their lordships' chief concern when I first reported this, almost a year ago, was that I was an agent of the French who had deliberately set out to deceive them.'

‘I am not here to answer for their lordships,' O'Hara declared wearily. But then, perhaps recalling the number of times he had been required to answer for them in the past, and doubtless would in the future, he added: ‘To be fair, they were considerably diverted at the time by the fear of an invasion of the British Isles. However, they have recently received another report which, to a great extent, tallies with your own. It came from a man who is, I believe, an acquaintance of yours.' He eyed Nathan shrewdly. ‘He was until recently the British Consul in Corfu – Spiridion Foresti.'

The name cut through the fog in Nathan's mind like a warm breeze from the South.

Spiridion Foresti.

‘Greek by birth, Venetian by nationality, Levantine by disposition, and British by inclination.'

That was how he had described himself to Nathan shortly after they first met in Corfu. Their acquaintance had been brief but they had established an instant rapport. More to the point, Spiridion was valued as a trusted source of intelligence, not only by the British Admiralty but also by every senior diplomat and Naval Commander in the Mediterranean. Nelson had gone so far as to describe him as the best intelligence agent he had ever encountered. But with the fall of Venice, Corfu was now under French occupation, and Nathan had for some time been concerned for his safety.

‘You say “until recently”.' He frowned. ‘Do you know where he is now?'

‘The report was sent from Corfu several months ago,' the Governor reported. ‘But we have reason to believe that Mr Foresti is now in Tripoli.'

Another piece fell into place.

‘He has, as you may know, significant commercial interests in the Levant, and of late he has been much concerned at the activities of French agents in the region. Furthermore, it appears that the Venetian fleet, which is now in French hands, has been ordered to prepare for a major operation in conjunction with the French fleet in Toulon.' He noted Nathan's expression and raised a cautionary hand. ‘The report took a considerable time to reach London and the information it contains may well be out of date. Also, there is still the danger that it could be a
ruse de guerre
. We know they have been planning an invasion of Ireland …'