Julian Stockwin - Quarterdeck

"Sir, I must point out that these are American waters." There was no response to Adams's concern, Houghton keeping his gaze on the fleeing ship ahead. "They're well known to be jealous of their sovereignty, sir—"

"I know that, damn your blood!" Houghton said. But the Frenchman showed no signs whatsoever of putting down her helm and proceeded to pass Block Island, entering the closed length of Long Island Sound.

"They're mad! They've no way out—what do they—"

"Mr Hambly! Quickly! What's the distance across the widest entrance to the sound?"

"Er, to nor'ard—that's betwixt Matunuck and Sandy Point on th' island—and it's . . . seven miles."

"We can do it. North about it is, Mr Hambly. Have a care you stay exactly mid-channel—the Americans claim one league from the low-water mark, which by my reckoning leaves just a mile breadth for our peaceful passage."

"Aye aye, sir," said Hambly, eyeing the Frenchman, who seemed to have no notion of such niceties.

Leaving Block Island to larboard, Tenacious entered the capacious arm of the sea; there could be no escape now—with both English ships to windward and able to close with the Frenchman if he turned back, it was only a matter of waiting.

"He's wasting time," snorted Houghton, impatient.

"Sir, recollect: the French have been friends to the Americans since their support for them in the late war." Renzi had come up from the gun-deck in curiosity.

Bryant sneered: "Pah! Nonsense! They've seen how the French conduct revolutions and want no part of such roguery."

"Then what is the meaning of his motions now?" Renzi answered quietly. The privateer had run up a huge tricolour, which streamed out to leeward and barely two miles ahead, and boldly put up his helm to pass through the mile-wide entrance to an inner expanse of water.

"One league, sir."

"Yes, yes, I had not forgotten." Houghton bit his lip as he eyed the scene. "Take a cast of the lead. I believe we will anchor. One league off shore precisely."

After one last look at the French privateer, just six miles away and, with calm impunity, preparing to berth in a tiny port, Kydd joined the others in the captain's cabin. Houghton was irascible. "Ideas?"

"Cut 'em out!" Bryant's growl was instant. "And be damned to any consequences. There's nought hereabouts but fisherfolk an' farmers—and the Americans have no navy at all that I've heard about."

"True," said Houghton, thoughtfully, "but I'll remind you that in law this must be construed as a combatant seeking refuge in a neutral port, and it would go ill with any who can be shown to violate it."

"And who's to know? Cloth over our name on the stern, boat's crews at night and you can't make 'em out—"

"I honour the ardency of your spirit, Mr Bryant, but I fear this would provoke extremely."

"Swimmers! Under cover o' dark, they go in with borers, sink the bugger where he lies—"

"Mr Bryant! I will not suffer such language! And, besides, they'll never pierce a copper-sheathed hull without fuss and noise."

The cabin fell quiet until Renzi spoke. "Under the assumption that the sympathies of the Americans must lie with the French, I rather feel they would not be over-nice in the laws applicable in cases of neutrality. We may find ourselves lying at anchor, waiting, for some considerable time. Therefore it would seem logical to sail away—with deep regrets, of course."

Bryant snorted but could find no riposte.

"And while we dally, the admiral is deprived of a major unit of his fleet, which is nominally under his orders . . ."

Houghton grunted. "Possibly, but consider—this privateer is big. Should we leave her to her foul plundering, she can take her pick of the largest prizes. We would certainly be held to account if we did not a thing."

"But if you are unable to effect a solution, by reasons of force majeure, your course is chosen for you. We must give up."

There was a lengthy pause. Then the captain said, "We have stores only for days. An extended voyage was not contemplated. I have no choice."

Bryant let out his breath like a punctured balloon. "To sail."

"Yes." The captain's voice was final. But then he added, "There is, however, one small chance."

"Sir?"

"I will send an officer ashore to parley with the Americans.

They can't object to that. Try to get 'em to see where their interests best lie, bit of law, that sort of thing. It's possible then that they'll throw the Frenchy out to where we'll be waiting for him."

"A long shot, if I may say so, sir." Pringle's languid voice came from the rear of the group of disconsolate officers. "Did you have anyone in mind?"

"That is a matter that exercises me. If I send my first lieutenant there will undoubtedly be a confrontation, which is devoutly to be avoided." Bryant's splutter was ignored. "Any officer of eminence will confer too much consequence on the affair with the local authorities, whoever they may be in these backwoods.

"I rather feel that the name of Lieutenant Kydd suggests itself."

CHAPTER 9

"MR PRESIDENT, THE MINISTER PLENIPOTENTIARY of Great Britain. Sir, the President of the United States." The aide ushered Liston into the broad room, then departed.

"Robert, so kind in you," said John Adams. He was standing by the tall marble mantelpiece and advanced with outstretched hand. "Sit down, man."

"Thank you, Mr President." Liston took an armchair before the fire with a gracious inclination of his head. "May I know if Abigail is happy in Trenton? It's a wise precaution to depart Philadelphia before the sick season."

"She is indeed, God bless her," said Adams. In the absence of any others at this meeting, he poured the sherry himself. "Your health, Robert."

Liston waited, watching the President over the rim of his glass. Adams, a short, chubby man who looked like a country squire, was not to be underestimated. The two of them had seen much together of this new country's spirited political struggles and personally he wished it well, but this was not a social call. He had come in response to a diplomatic summons.

Adams set down his glass and steepled his fingers. "This cannot be allowed to continue, this stopping and searching on the high seas. Congress and the people will not tolerate it. Your Navy provokes by its high-handed actions, whatever its rights in the matter. Impressing men from the very decks of United States merchant vessels—it's insufferable, you must understand, and now the British courts in the Caribbean are condemning United States merchant ships seized by the Royal Navy as prizes."

Liston murmured an acknowledgement. It was an old problem, and there were well-rehearsed rejoinders, but he chose another tack. "Mr President, this, I can appreciate, is your immediate concern—but you will understand that here we have a clash of belief and therefore law. You will have your country's position set in law—but we, sir, have had ours since the 1756 Rule of War and it is accepted by the world. Why then should we change it so?"

Adams picked up his glass and smiled. "That is well known, Robert, because it favours the Crown so disproportionate."

"And the French," continued Liston evenly, "with their demands of equipage and new decrees—"

"We will firmly abide by our treaty obligations of 1778."

"Sir, the point I wish to make is that unless these three systems of law are brought to an expression of harmony, your country's trade is in continued jeopardy. It would seem therefore but natural that, if only to restore a balance in world affairs, a measure of amity be enacted between our two nations prohibiting these excesses—here I do not exclude the possibility of an alliance."

"Against France? I think not. The country would never countenance it."

"Sir, consider, the French have been all but swept from the seas. What more practical way to safeguard your ships than have them watched over by the most powerful nation at sea, under flags in amity?"