ze council de la cite, denouncing ze presence of a British warship ’ere, expressing my fears that something untoward could occur eef eet stays one hour longer. I ’ave also express-ed z’at such presence ees ze insult to American neutrality, to ze United States, ze state of South Carolina, an’ ze cite of Charleston… so much of an insult z’at ze local citoyens may take to ze streets een anger.”
“Oh, please, Albert,” Mr. Cotton spluttered in exasperation, making Lewrie feel that, in private, the two men got along a lot better than their Publick personae allowed. “And did you also tell them that Reliant is the vanguard of a British invasion? That she’s going to open fire on the city, and land her Marines to rape their mothers?”
“I take my duty to Hees Majesty ze Emperor mos’ seriously,” Gambon bristled up like a hedgehog in a grand flounce, “an’ I ’ave too much love and respect for ze people of America to see z’em ’arm-ed.”
“And, how far did you get with that twaddle?” Cotton scoffed.
“Ze matter ees being looked eento mos’ closely by ze officials to whom I spoke,” Gambon assured them.
“Which is to say, they didn’t even give you the time of day,” Mr. Cotton said with a wry chuckle. “Is that all, M’sieur Gambon?”
“Eet ees not, M’sieur Cotton,” Gambon replied, still on a formal “high horse” and in gravity. “I ask of ze distinguish-ed Capitaine, what was the time z’at your frigate came to anchor, M’sieur?”
“It’s pronounced Loo-ree, accent on the first syllable, M’sieur, ” Lewrie told him in equal gravity, secretly amused by the posturing wee toad-man, and his few streaks of pomaded hair. “We came to wind, and let go the bower at Three Bells of the Forenoon.”
Gambon twitched his mouth, as if Lewrie was speaking Hindoo.
“That is to say, half-past nine this morning,” Lewrie went on, grinning a bit.
“Z’en, I ’ardly ’ave to remind you, Capitaine Loo-ree, z’at ze Admiralty Law recognis- ed by all civilised nations require you to sail from Charleston before half pas’ nine of ze morning, three days hence,” Gambon slyly said. “Further, Capitaine, eet ees not permitted z’at you be allowed to return to Charleston… or any ozzer port een ze state of South Carolina weethout a reasonable time at sea… beyond ze limit of three miles so you do not violate American neutrality by remaining een coastal waters; n’est-ce pas?”
“Of a certainty, sir,” Lewrie replied, beginning to get a sinking feeling in his innards that he was about to be “had”.
“Een point of fact, Capitaine… an’ Edward may bear me out on z’is,” Gambon happily went on, “since ze United States ees by z’eir Constitution a Federalist republique, not a confederation of sovereign and separate states weeth z’eir own maritime laws, it would be a gross violation of American sovereignty, and neutrality, eef you sail-ed into any ozzer American port until a reasonable time ’as pass-ed. I made z’is point weeth ze American government representative, and ze senior officer of ze American Navy. While ’e ’as but two small gunboats, an’ cannot be expected to enforce hees nation’s laws against such a powerful frigate, eet would be mos’ regrettable should ’e fin’ you loath to depart on time, or, ’ow you say?… break you passage… at Beaufort or Port Royal, perhaps even at Savannah, or Wilmington, oui?”
God rot the little shit! Lewrie silently fumed; He’s got me by the ‘nut-megs’ ! Just look at him enjoyin’ this!
“I also mus’ point out to your excellent Capitaine, Edward,” Gambon continued, turning to Mr. Cotton, and almost purring in triumph, “z’at by Admiralty Law, to avoid ze effusion of blood, and ze introduction of la guerre mos’ horrible in neutral waters, Capitaine Mollien of Otarie… an ’onest an’ ’umble merchantman of ze mos’ peaceful an’ innocent intent… mus’ be given ze grace period of at least twelve ’ours between ze time ’e sails, an’ ze time z’at Capitaine Loo-ree ees allow-ed to sail… hawn hawn. But of course,” Gambon added, turning to Lewrie with the hugest “shit-eating” grin on his phyz, “so esteem-ed an officer een ze Royal Navy ’ardly ’as to be reminded of ze laws of nations, non?”
“Ehm, well, of course not, M’sieur Gambon,” Cotton said with a scowl, and a darting glance at Lewrie, as if to wonder if he had known that beforehand.
Should’ve read up on ’em, first, Lewrie told himself, steaming.
“ En fin, Edward, I present you weeth copies of my protests to ze authorities,” Gambon said. “I take my leave, an’ fin’ my own way out, my duty to ze Emperor complete. Au revoir, M’sieur Cotton, mon vieux! Au revoir, Capitaine Loo-ree. I weesh you a bon voyage… but not too soon, hawn hawn?”
Gambon gave them both a sketchier bow from the waist and a dip of his head before turning to re-enter the house to gather up his hat, gloves, and walking stick.
“ Hmpf! ” Lewrie snorted, once he was sure that Gambon was out of earshot. “What an insufferable little… toad!”
“Insufferable at times, yes,” Mr. Cotton agreed after wheezing out a deep sigh of relief from between puffed lips. “When not on official business, though, he can be quite witty and amusing. Plays a fine game of chess, and dances extremely well. The ladies of Charleston adore him, and invite him to many of their balls and cotillions.”
“And Napoleon Bonaparte is kind to dogs and children!” Lewrie scoffed. “What was that nonsense about stayin’ in port twelve hours after that Frog schooner sails?”
“Stuff and nonsense, indeed,” Cotton said with a snort, sitting down to his tea once more. “My understanding of neutrality laws, as the Americans enforce them, allows you to sail the same time as he does… just so long as you do not engage him inside the Three Mile Limit. In international waters, you may do as you please.
“Though… it might not put our country in a good light, if you did,” Mr. Cotton cautioned a second later. “Do, please sit, Sir Alan. Are you able to bring Mollien to action, it might be best did it happen fifteen or twenty miles offshore… out of sight, so that the patriotic citizens of Charleston have no reason to sour relations between our country and theirs, which are tetchy enough, as it is.”
“And, when did that bastard come to anchor, sir?” Lewrie asked, beginning to suspect a very bad scenario, a pit-fall which he hadn’t seen coming.
“About two days ago,” Mr. Cotton told him, between sips of tea from his glass. “Strictly speaking, he must depart by tomorrow, but that hinges upon Captain Mollien’s ship being deemed a National Ship of the French Navy, or a privateer, a naval auxiliary. If no one will declare the schooner a man o’ war, a merchantman may stay as long as he likes.”
“ I’ll have t’sail, while he can sit at anchor and wave his bare arse at me?” Lewrie gawped. “I could lurk five or six miles offshore and catch him when he comes out.”
“Ehm… that might put a strain on things, Sir Alan,” Cotton warned, slowly shaking his head in the negative.
He can stay a week or two longer, and I’d have t’stay, Lewrie angrily thought; and there goes lookin’ into Savannah, or re-joining the squadron off Saint Augustine!
Lewrie sat, though nowhere near at ease, and took a sip or two of the cool tea. He screwed up his face in thought, realising that he was caught in a cleft stick. The only thing to do was to have a wee laugh.
“Sir Alan?” Mr. Cotton enquired, surprised by Lewrie’s humour.
“I might as well have t’wait twelve hours, Mister Cotton,” Lewrie told him, still with a sour grin on his face. “Were I Mollien, I’d wait ’til within an hour or so of the peak of high tide, and set sail for the Main Ship Channel, timing it so that I’m crossing the Charleston Bar at slack-water of that high tide. Imagine this, sir: As soon as I see him making up to a single bow anchor, I send ashore for a pilot. Reliant draws almost
