Read Online A King's Cutter by Richard Woodman - Free Book Online Page B

very well. She was still being chased at daylight by which time they had rigged preventer backstays, had the squaresails drawing and stunsails set to leeward. At eight bells in the morning watch Drinkwater logged eleven knots as the cutter staggered, her bow wave a mass of foam driving ahead of her. Aft, by the weather running backstay, Griffiths hummed a tune, never once looking astern. By mid afternoon they could see the white cliffs of Dover and the lugger had abandoned them. Leaving the deck to Jessup they dined with Major Brown.
    â€˜That
chasse marée
was the
Citoyenne Janine
, French National Lugger,’ said Brown, hungrily devouring a slice of ham. ‘She’s at the disposal of an audacious bastard called Santhonax . . . By heaven Madoc, I thought they had me that time, Santhonax had clearly got wind of my departure and intended to cut you off.’ He munched steadily and swallowed, gulping half a glass of brandy. ‘They were after me within an hour of my leaving Paris . . . but for the skill and enterprise of your young friend here they would have succeeded.’
    Drinkwater muttered something and helped himself to the ham, suddenly very hungry.
    â€˜Mr Drinkwater has done well, Major. You may assume he has my full confidence.’
    Brown nodded. ‘Damned well ought to have. Shameful trick you played on him that night last November.’ They all grinned at the release from tension and the bottle went round, jealously guarded from
Kestrel
’s urgent, hurrying list.
    â€˜Excuse me, sir,’ said Drinkwater, ‘But how did you know the identity of the lugger? Did you see her commander?’
    â€˜Santhonax? Yes. That fellow standing at her stern. He don’t command the vessel, it runs at his convenience. The French Ministry of Marine have given him a roving commission, not unlike my own,’ he paused and tossed off his glass. ‘I’ll lay even money on his being as familiar with the lanes of Kent as any damned hop picker.’ He shrugged, ‘But I’ve no proof. Yet. You could tell the lugger was the
Citoyenne Janine
. Even in the dark you could see the black swallowtail flag. For some reason Santhonax likes to fly it, some bit of damned Celtic nonsense. Sorry Madoc, no offence.’
    Drinkwater had not seen the flag but he wondered at the recondite nature of Brown’s knowledge. He did not yet appreciate the major’s capacity for apparently trifling details.
    â€˜It’s going to be a bloody long war, Madoc,’ continued the Major. ‘I can tell you this, the god-damned Yankees are involved. We’ll fight them again yet, you see. They’ve promised the Frogs vast quantities of grain. Place would starve without their help, and the revolutionaries’ll make trouble in Ireland . . . that’ll be no secret in a month or two.’ He paused frowning, gathering words suitable to convey the enormity of his news and Drinkwater was reminded of Appleby. ‘They’re going to carry their bloody flag right through Europe, mark my words . . .’ He helped himself to another slice of ham. Drinkwater knew now why the man had appeared so jovial all those months ago. He himself felt the desire to chatter like Brown, as a reaction to the events of the night before. How much worse for Brown after that terrible isolation. Once ashore he would have to be circumspect but here, aboard
Kestrel
, he occupied neutral ground, was among friends. He emptied his glass for the fourth time and Griffiths refilled it.
    â€˜Did you get Barrallier out?’ Brown asked settling back and addressing Drinkwater.
    â€˜Yes, sir, we picked him up at Beaubigny.’
    â€˜Beaubigny?’ Brown looked startled and frowned. ‘Where the devil’s that? I arranged for Criel.’ He looked at Griffiths who explained the location.
    â€˜I protested, Major, but two aristos had Dungarth’s ear,