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Authors: David Donachie

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‘Is that a question, Harry?’

That produced a wan smile. ‘Not really, James. But you remember I said to you that whoever overran the ship was known to the Captain, and the crew.’

‘So it’s unlikely to be a pirate.’

‘Even more so given that de Barrameda had just attacked their base.’

‘One could have slipped past him.’

‘Perhaps he did the slipping, James.’

‘You think de Barrameda might be the one?’

Harry just shrugged. ‘I’m really not concerned, James. I don’t care who it was. Just as long as we can convince the Barón that it wasn’t us.’

‘It’s intriguing, though.’

‘There’s another odd thing, brother. No one has even alluded to the rest of the crew, or the passengers.’

 

They were left kicking their heels for a good hour, with James’s temper matching the rising heat of the day. The sun was full up in the sky, and he was fuming, before de Chigny returned, hurrying in the footsteps of San Lucar de Barrameda. The Spanish Captain deigned to offer them a small bow, accompanied by a cold stare, before throwing open the door and entering the Governor’s quarters. The aide managed a slightly more friendly look, almost a smile, before he too disappeared.

‘Something tells me our stiff-necked friend has a little explaining to do. I must say the prospect calms me somewhat. I wonder if de Carondelet will bring us face to face.’

‘Don’t go expecting an apology if he does, brother. Our Spanish peacock is not the type.’

The door opened abruptly. De Chigny, his face a mask, beckoned for them to re-enter. The day outside was now hot enough to warm the interior of even the most substantial building, but it would never lift the chill in this room. De Carondelet, who seemed to have recovered a degree of composure, was standing still, hands behind his back, beside a pile of papers on his desk. He gave them a curt nod of greeting. San Lucar de Barrameda was staring at a point just above the Governor’s head. He didn’t move an inch to acknowledge their arrival. With a show of unnecessary ceremony, the aide picked up the report from the desk and handed it to de Carondelet. The Governor pulled it close to his face again, and examined it for a moment before lifting his protruding blue eyes to address Harry.

‘You claim that you cannot fix the position of the
Gauchos
with any accuracy.’

‘No, I cannot. And if that in your hand has any bearing on the information I gave Don Felipe, then it will tell you why.’

‘A hurricane?’

‘It damaged my chronometers.’

‘Don Felipe recalls a heavy swell in the Gulf, Señor. But no hurricane.’

‘Then I would hazard that he was too far north to feel its effects,’ said James. ‘And I say that as someone who openly confesses to be no sailor.’

‘Thank you, James,’ said Harry, adopting a tone that was sharp enough to convey the message that the less he said the better. Certainly James got the hint, since he flushed slightly to be so openly rebuked. Harry longed to tell him that they were safe, merely going through the motions necessary to assuage San Lucar de Barrameda. ‘I’m sure the Captain of the
Navarro
would be the first to admit that a heavy swell in one area can easily indicate a hurricane elsewhere.’

San Lucar de Barrameda managed to nod without in any way dropping his eyes.

‘When you first signed the
Navarro
, you were in the act of dropping anchor off Fort Balize?’

‘That is so, Excellency,’ Harry replied, swiftly.

‘So a lookout, seeing only your masts, with sails still aloft, might assume that you were still in deep water.’

‘He might.’

‘You must understand, Captain Ludlow, that the presence of any armed British ship in these waters is a cause for alarm.’

‘Which is why, Excellency, I took great precautions to ensure that all should observe my peaceful intentions.’

‘I’m sure you did, Captain Ludlow, I’m sure you did.’ Carondelet spoke in a soothing voice. San Lucar de Barrameda sniffed loudly, unable to contain his irritation. ‘But I wonder if you can truly understand the very natural suspicions that a ship like yours engenders in so sensitive an area.’

‘I think I’ve already acknowledged that.’

‘Then you will readily appreciate Captain San Lucar de Barrameda’s quite commendable apprehensions.’

‘That is not to say that I accept them.’

‘It would be pleasant to say that those suspicions have been entirely laid to rest. Pleasant, but untrue. You must also understand that, not being a sailor myself, I have to heed the advice of the men who understand these things.’

Harry understood perfectly. He was going to be asked to provide a sop to ease San Lucar de Barrameda’s wounded pride. So be it, if it was something he could do without too much personal loss, he would oblige. After all, as a
quid pro quo
, he could demand that any obstacles to his landing his passengers should be removed.

The Barón de Carondelet put down his paper and smiled at the Ludlow brothers for the first time.

‘This being so, Captain Ludlow, and so there can be no further misunderstanding, I have granted Don Felipe permission to search your ship.’

BOTH BROTHERS
tried not to gasp, but the implications of what de Carondelet had just asked were so obvious that it really couldn’t be avoided. Harry’s immediate response was to try to bluff, but his voice lacked the necessary assurance to make the required impact.

‘That would be to surrender our rights as neutrals.’

De Carondelet, who was expecting easy compliance, was quite taken aback by the reaction. ‘Come, Captain Ludlow. If, as you say, your encounter with the
Gauchos
was fortuitous, and that everything you took out of her hull is already accounted for, what have you to fear from a search of your ship?’

To insist too emphatically was to ensure that the very thing he sought to avoid would happen. San Lucar de Barrameda was no customs official. The image, firmly fixed in his mind, of him standing over the Frenchmen’s chest, horrified Harry. He had to say something that would deflect such a possibility.

‘That is precisely the point, Excellency. I cannot think what grounds there are for such a search. Either the good Captain accepts that a genuine error has been made or he doesn’t.’

San Lucar de Barrameda spoke for the first time. ‘If I didn’t, Señor, we would not be standing here now. You would be in the bowels of my ship, in chains.’

Harry fought the desire to respond in kind, to tell a man he considered a pompous oaf to go and jump in the Mississippi. Instead he adopted the same overly polite manner he’d used on first meeting de Barrameda, hoping that the strangled tone so very obvious to him wasn’t apparent to the Spaniards.

‘It shows great nobility to admit to an error, sir, a quality I never doubted you held in abundance. You are welcome to come aboard as my guest. You’re more than welcome to dine in my cabin. But my own pride would find a search of the ship demeaning.’

San Lucar de Barrameda didn’t reply to Harry. He merely looked at his superior, as if to say that by having to withdraw his previous report he understood the consequences of the word demeaning much better than this Englishman. De Carondelet clearly agreed, or at least was not prepared to inflict further humiliation on his subordinate. The words that followed may have lacked conviction, but they made any further protest futile.

‘Don Felipe has the safety of the colony at his heart, Captain. If my senior naval officer insists that a search is required, then good sense alone forces me to agree to his request. Besides, there is the very valid point that were you carrying cargo of any kind, you’d be subjected to customs clearance for anything you chose to land. But please do not take it as an insult in any way. As to dinner in your cabin, I for one would be most flattered, and will readily avail myself of that invitation once the search is concluded.’

James, when he cut into the conversation, spoke with studied languor, his gaze wandering to the overly flattering portrait hanging behind the Governor’s head. Yet somehow, regardless of the lazy tone, his voice demanded attention.

‘I seem to remember you remarked that there was a quantity of gold and silver on board the
Gauchos
.’ San Lucar de Barrameda grunted, de Chigny sighed, while de Carondelet nodded unhappily. Clearly no one relished being reminded. ‘Though I have to say that I don’t recall you mentioning the value.’

‘That would be because I didn’t, Señor Ludlow.’

James didn’t respond immediately, as if waiting for the Governor to complete his sentence. When this didn’t happen he raised a quizzical eyebrow, to indicate that by declining to continue de Carondelet was being obtuse.

‘While we were waiting outside, kicking our heels, my brother
advanced the theory that your property was hidden in the boxes containing those strange brown granules.’

‘You mean the sugar?’

‘We thought it to be sugar, but were unsure.’

‘Made with a process invented here,’ said de Chigny, looking to the Governor to check that his intervention wasn’t unwelcome. ‘One that could help secure the long-term future of Louisiana.’

De Carondelet wasn’t listening to James or his aide. He shot Harry a look full of enquiry, mild compared to the Captain of the
Navarro
’s. But Harry’s attention was on James: busy searching for a method to allay the Spaniard’s suspicions, as well as deflect his intentions, he wondered if James had gone mad. But if his brother picked up the look, one that begged once more for silence, he completely ignored it.

‘He also reasoned that if it had been so concealed, not even the Captain of the
Gauchos
, Captain San Lucar de Barrameda’s old friend Rodrigo, knew of its presence.’

‘Rodrigo was a friend of yours?’ snapped de Carondelet, his head jerking round.

San Lucar de Barrameda, mystified, shook his head slowly. Then like a man recalling a long lost memory, he raised a hand. ‘I told these people he was my good friend in an attempt to gain more information about what had happened to the
Gauchos
. As for Rodrigo, I never spoke to the man, except to inform him that I intended to follow him downriver.’

‘You left New Orleans at the same time as the
Gauchos
?’ asked Harry, trying to alter the course of the conversation. All he got from San Lucar de Barrameda was a swift display of temper.

‘What concern of that is yours, Señor! Do you think you have the right to question my actions?’

Harry didn’t get a chance to reply, since James beat him to it.

‘None whatever, Captain. But you will just have observed one very obvious fact; that my brother has an enquiring mind and a
sharp brain. While that is often a cause for concern, he is, I must tell you, adept at finding solutions to seemingly insoluble puzzles. This, of course, cannot be achieved without asking questions, some of which can, on occasion, border on the impertinent. But he has advanced these theories. So, I am curious to know, having listened to his speculations, if what he says is true.’

He turned his gaze towards de Carondelet, who was still looking suspiciously at his subordinate. ‘And given that he is blessed with this arcane skill, and your treasure is missing, I would venture to suggest that his abilities might be of some use to you.’

James’s next remark, aimed at San Lucar de Barrameda, was well larded with sarcasm. ‘I am right in thinking you wish to recover it, Captain?’

The Governor looked at James as though he hadn’t heard him properly.

‘Was the gold and silver hidden in the sugar boxes?’

‘Yes.’

‘Without the knowledge of Rodrigo?’

De Carondelet nodded.

‘And the value?’

‘Two hundred thousand dollars.’

‘And how many people knew it was there?’ asked Harry, his mind racing. The money the Frenchmen had in that chest approximated very closely to the amount de Carondelet had just mentioned, something of which James was aware. Yet he gave no indication that it registered.

‘Surely that is none of our concern, Harry,’ said James, without responding. ‘That is, unless his Excellency seeks your assistance.’

That earned him a proper glare, which had no effect at all. Likewise de Carondelet didn’t react to what was clearly an invitation to share his worries with this visiting Captain. James shrugged, displaying seeming indifference.

‘Well, Excellency, since you insist on searching
Bucephalas
, I suggest it be done quickly. Our crew, as well as your soldiers and
sailors, must be suffering somewhat from extended exposure to the heat.’

De Carondelet turned to San Lucar de Barrameda. ‘If you wish to carry on, Captain.’

‘No!’ replied James, sharply. ‘If you don’t mind, Excellency, we must insist that you supervise the search personally.’

‘Me?’

‘You must understand,’ James continued smoothly, without looking at de Barrameda, ‘that to explain my reasons for saying such a thing, here in this room, would hardly be a recipe for harmonious relations.’

If San Lucar de Barrameda picked up the allusion it didn’t show on his face. But de Carondelet and de Chigny understood perfectly. The Ludlows were not about to trust the search to a man who’d already comprehensively lied about them. The Governor looked towards his aide, but before he could suggest that he undertake the task, James cut him off.

‘I know you are a man who understands
amour propre
, Excellency, and that you will do everything necessary to maintain our dignity, in the same way that you care for that of your officers. And if such a request seems demeaning to you, then come aboard as our guest.’

Harry, while admiring the diplomatic way that James had manoeuvred the conversation, couldn’t see what difference it made. It didn’t matter who searched the ship. If de Carondelet ordered that brass-bound chest to be opened, which he was almost certain to do, and saw what lay inside, then the result would be just the same.

‘And, sir, having practically accused us both of piracy, it would go some way towards restoring our faith in Spanish justice.’

‘De Chigny,’ said de Carondelet to his aide, after a moment’s pause, ‘call out the escort and ask my servant to fetch my hat.’

‘Splendid,’ said James. ‘By the way, this gold and silver of yours, how was it made up?’

‘What?’

‘I was just thinking that even in proper leather pouches, it would be a dangerous thing to do, placing coins in boxes of loose granules.’

‘We’re not fools, Señor Ludlow,’ replied San Lucar de Barrameda. ‘The money was shipped in ingots.’

The look that James gave Harry was triumphant, which his brother didn’t begrudge him at all.

 

On the way back down to the levee, James chatted to de Carondelet with seeming unconcern. Harry, alongside San Lucar de Barrameda, while gnawing away at the problem presented by that chest, was content to ignore him and take stock of their surroundings. Ashore, the amount of construction work was even more evident, and close to, he could see the shells of those buildings which had perished in the fire and had yet to be demolished. Naturally, given the number of de Carondelet’s escort, they were the object of some scrutiny as they marched along. Crowds gathered at each intersection to stare, and had to be restrained from advancing into the Governor’s path by his soldiers. Several people hissed at the party, and Harry heard the odd French curse aimed in their direction. But most of the comments, loudly delivered, were a lame play on the Governor’s name. They called him
Cochon du lait
. Harry wondered how a native French speaker would translate that; either as a milk-fed pig, or a pig in milk. Whichever, it wasn’t flattering. More importantly, the populace who mouthed this insult, though not really threatening, showed no fear of their Spanish masters. This explained the size of their escort, as well as the readiness they appeared to have to protect the Governor. Indeed, some of the soldiers, a much smarter bunch than those from Fort Balize, were more rough than really necessary when pushing back people who’d only assembled because they were curious.

The majority of the population were Europeans, some dressed as if they were walking the streets of Paris. They’d adopted the severe cut of clothes made fashionable by the puritans of the
Revolution, even the totally unsuitable hats, as if wishing to make a statement of their allegiances, and since they were nearly all men it gave them a sombre hue. But there were ample flashes of colour, provided by the majority of the Negroes and mixed breeds. The men, with skin tones varying from pale brown to deepest black, dressed in coloured silk coats, waistbands and scarves, though the women, with fantastically decorated head-dresses festooned with glittering decorations of gold, silver, and glass, really provided the plumage. And their haughty bearing, allied to their elegant carriage, said more about their status than a printed sign.

There were Negro slaves in Louisiana, but it was originally a French colony, with that nation’s lax attitude to stratification, and a high percentage of the coloured population were free. There were even Indians walking about, the men selling fruit from trays which hung around their necks. The few women he saw had the more onerous task of carrying great bundles of wood, tied to their backs and held in place by a strap around their head. As a man who despised slavery, Harry was entranced to see the races mixing on equal terms. He’d had many occasions to contest the contrary view in the past. It would be pleasant to have those people here now, to see for themselves the harmonious results that could be achieved by ignoring the colour of a man’s skin. Mentally he made a note to request that James sketch some scenes of the free and easy nature of New Orleans life, so that they could be shown not only to the bigots but to Wilberforce and his Anti-Slavery Society. This would provide them with ammunition to silence their critics, whose only claim to racial superiority was wholly based on a desire to grow rich in the lucrative slave trade.

As they crested the levee he looked to see if there had been any change in the predicament of his ship. Someone had moved the awning from the bows to the quarterdeck, which provided shade for those on board; no one had seen fit to provide for those Spaniards who surrounded them. A small group of Indians were by the water’s edge, but they moved away swiftly as the soldiers approached. Pender sat in the barge, crouched down under a large
sennit hat, ignoring the men guarding him. He looked up at the sound of their footsteps, and seeing the brothers, gave them a huge welcoming smile.

‘Man your oars, lads,’ he said happily. ‘Captain’s back.’

‘You will, of course, accompany us, your Excellency?’ said James to de Carondelet. Then he turned to San Lucar de Barrameda. ‘You have, I believe, sufficient transport of your own.’

‘James!’ said Harry, with some asperity. He might dislike the man, loathe him even, but this was no time to be making matters worse.

‘Forgive me, brother,’ he replied, all the while looking at the Spanish sailor. ‘Such a want of manners can occur in the most careful breast. All it takes is sufficient exposure to a certain type of condescension. You may, of course, Don Felipe San Lucar de Barrameda, travel in our barge.’

BOOK: The Scent of Betrayal
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