Alexander Kent - Stand into Danger

Bolitho pricked up his ears. Dumaresq’s host might live in Madeira, but the captain was speaking in Spanish, unless he was much mistaken.

Dumaresq said, “Return to the ship, Mr Bolitho. My compliments to the first lieutenant and ask him to recall the surgeon and any other shore party immediately. I intend to weigh before nightfall.”

Bolitho closed his mind to the obvious difficulties, to say nothing of the risk of leaving harbour in the dark. He sensed the sudden urgency, the apprehension which Lockyer’s murder had brought amongst them.

He nodded to the elderly man and then said to Dumaresq, “A lovely house, sir.”

The old man smiled and bowed his head.

Bolitho strode down the stairs with Jury in his shadow, sharing every moment without knowing what was happening.

Bolitho wondered if the captain had noticed. That his host had understood exactly what he had said about his fine house. So if Dumaresq had spoken to him in Spanish it was so that neither he nor Jury should understand.

He decided it was one part of the mystery he would hold to himself.

That night, as promised, Dumaresq took his ship to sea. In light airs, and with all but her topsails and jib brailed up, Destiny steered slowly between other anchored vessels, guided by the ship’s cutter with a lantern close to the water like a firefly to show her the way.

By dawn, Madeira was just a purple hump on the horizon far astern, and Bolitho was not certain if the mystery still remained there in the alley where Lockyer had drawn his last breath.

LIEUTENANT Charles Palliser closed the two outer screen doors of Dumaresq’s cabin and said, “All present, sir.”

In their various attitudes the Destiny’s lieutenants and senior warrant officers sat and watched Dumaresq expectantly. It was late afternoon, two days out of Madeira. The ship had a feeling of leisurely routine about her, as with a light north-easterly wind laying her on a starboard tack she cruised steadily into the Atlantic.

Dumaresq glanced up at the skylight as a shadow moved past it. Most likely the master’s mate of the watch.

“Shut that, too.”

Bolitho glanced at his companions, wondering if they were sharing his growing sense of curiosity.

This meeting had been inevitable, but Dumaresq had taken great pains to ensure it would come well after his ship had cleared the land.

Dumaresq waited for Palliser to sit down. Then he looked at each man in turn. From the marine officer, past the surgeon, the master and the purser, finally to his three lieutenants.

He said, “You all know about the death of my clerk. A reliable man, even if given to certain eccentricities. He will be hard to replace. However, his murder by some persons unknown means more than the loss of a companion. I have been under sealed orders, but the time is come to reveal some of the task we shall soon be facing. When two people know something it is no longer a secret. An even greater enemy in a small ship is rumour and what it can do to idle minds.”

Bolitho flinched as the wide, compelling eyes paused on him momentarily before passing to some other part of the cabin.

Dumaresq said, “Thirty years ago, before most of this ship’s company had drawn breath, one Commodore Anson took an expedition south around Cape Horn and into the Great South Sea. His purpose was to harry Spanish settlements for, as you should know, we were then at war with the Dons.” He nodded grimly. “Again.”

Bolitho thought of the courtly Spaniard in the house behind the harbour at Funchal, the secrecy, the missing bag for which a man had died.

Dumaresq continued, “One thing is certain. Commodore Anson may have been courageous, but his ideas of health and caring for his people were limited.” He looked at the rotund surgeon and allowed his features to soften. “Unlike us, maybe he had no proper doctors to advise him.”

There were several chuckles, and Bolitho guessed the remark had been made to put them more at their ease.

Dumaresq said, “Be that as it may, within three years Anson had lost all of his squadron but his own Centurion, and had left thirteen hundred of his people buried at sea with his various escapades. Most of them died from disease, scurvy and bad food. It is likely that if Anson had returned home without further incident he would have faced a court martial and worse.”

Rhodes shifted in his chair, his eyes shining as he whispered, “I thought as much, Dick.”

Dumaresq’s glance silenced whatever it was Rhodes had been about to impart.

The captain brushed some invisible dust from his red waistcoat and said, “Anson fell in with a Spanish treasure ship homeward bound with bullion in her holds valued at more than a million guineas.”

Bolitho vaguely remembered reading of the incident. Anson had seized the ship after a swift fight, had even broken off the action in order that the Spaniards could douse a fire which had broken out in their rigging. He had been that eager and desperate to take the treasure ship, Nuestra Senora de Covadonga, intact. Prize courts and the powers of Admiralty had long looked on such captures as of greater value than the lives lost to obtain them.

Dumaresq cocked his head, his calm attitude momentarily lost. Bolitho heard the hail from the masthead to report a sail far off to the north. They had already sighted it twice during the day, for it seemed unlikely there would be more than one vessel using this same lonely route.

The captain shrugged. “We shall see.” He did not elaborate but continued, “It was not known until recently that there was another treasure ship on passage to Spain. She was the Asturias, a larger vessel than Anson’s prize, and therefore more heavily laden.” He darted a glance at the surgeon. “I can see you have heard of her?”

Bulkley sat back and interlaced his fingers across his ample stomach. “Indeed I have, sir. She was attacked by an English privateer under the command of a young Dorset man, Captain Piers Garrick. His letter of marque saved him many times from the gallows as a common pirate, but today he is Sir Piers Garrick, well respected, and the past holder of several government posts in the Caribbean.”

Dumaresq smiled grimly. “True, but I suggest you confine your other suspicions to the limits of the wardroom! The Asturias was never found, and the privateer was so damaged by the engagement that she too had to be abandoned.”

He looked round, irritated as the sentry called through the door, “Midshipman of the watch, sir! ”

Bolitho could picture the anxiety on the quarterdeck. Should they disturb the meeting below their feet and risk Dumaresq’s displeasure? Or should they just note the strange sail in the log and hope for the best?

Dumaresq said, “Enter.” He did not seem to raise his voice and yet it carried to the outer cabin without effort.

It was Midshipman Cowdroy, a sixteen-year-old youth who Dumaresq had already punished for using unnecessary severity on members of his watch.

He said, “Mr Slade’s respects, sir, and that sail has been reported to the north’rd again.” He swallowed hard and seemed to shrink under the captain’s stare.

Dumaresq said eventually, “I see. We shall take no action.” As the door closed he added, “Although I fear that stranger is not astern of us by coincidence.”

A bell chimed from the forecastle and Dumaresq said, “Recent information has been found and sworn to that most of the treasure is intact. A million and a half in bullion.”

They stared at him as if he had uttered some terrible obscenity.

Then Rhodes exclaimed, “And we are to discover it, sir?”

Dumaresq smiled at him. “You make it sound very simple, Mr Rhodes, perhaps we shall find it so. But such a vast amount of treasure will, and has already, aroused interest. The Dons will want it back as their rightful property. A prize court will argue that as the ship had already been seized by Garrick’s privateer before she managed to escape and hide, the bullion is the property of His Brittanic Majesty.” He lowered his voice, “And there are some who would seize it to further a cause which would do us nothing but harm. So, gentlemen, now you know. Our outward purpose is to complete the King’s business. But if the news of this treasure is allowed to run riot elsewhere, I will want to know who is responsible.”