A King`s Trade

'Of course, with our liners from the Caribbean ready to head up that way, soon, Halifax might be a tad too busy fulfilling their needs, so you may end up swinging round the anchor for a considerable bit of time, before they get round to your case.'

Oh, don't say case! Lewrie had most illogically thought, ready to titter with relief; Did I say 'case '? Silly old me!

'So, I should look to closing my shore accounts, d'ye mean, sir?' Lewrie asked, sure then that his departure would be something quicker than 'instanter,' and he didn't need to add dunnings from tailors and chandlers to his troubles.

'May you achieve all that by dawn tomorrow, it'd be best.'

'Dawn! Ah ha,' Lewrie had gloomed, with a benumbed nod.

'Frivolous, detestable, spiteful…' Capt. Nicely had mumbled, intent on nibbling Georgia 'pee-cans,' giving them his whole attention, unable to look at Lewrie, or unwilling to do so. And Lewrie wasn't so sure whether Nicely had been griping about the Beaumans, or him! He'd also noticed that Nicely hadn't, or couldn't, put Lewrie to a question of whether the Beaumans' suspicions were true. What Nicely didn't know, he could not testify to in a court of law, should it come to it!

'Well, of course they are, sir!' Lewrie had spat.

Nicely had squirmed some more, his eyes nicking about as if in search of a basin of water and a towel, like a Roman governor about to remand a felon back to the Court of The Sanhedrin-or so Lewrie's fervid imagination could conjure at that instant.

'Sail under Admiralty Orders,' Nicely had grunted, 'fly colours of an 'independent ship,' all that.'

'Written orders, sir?' Lewrie had had wit enough to press. The last thing he needed was to be charged with stealing his own frigate!

'Oh, most assuredly, sir,' Capt. Nicely had chirped. Meaning that Vice-Adm. Parker would treat his departure as a trivial matter of a minor refit for a hard-used frigate, which could carry despatches to Halifax at the same time, and could later swear that he'd known not a blessed thing about any legal charges. Nicely's signature would not be on those orders, either; nor would Lord Balcarres's, or Peel's, or anyone else's. 'Can't have you just swanning off whenever… damme!'

Nicely might have said more anent the matter, but was startled by faint brushings of fur against his well- blacked, fashionable boots, as Lewrie's cats, Toulon and Chalky, took that moment to gird up their not very considerable courage to make musky rencontre of their former cabin-mate.

Though the cats had made a fuss over Nicely when he'd first gotten aboard to supplant Lewrie, once their master was gone it was another matter, and they'd tormented the man… mostly with piss! Stockings, shoes, linens, sheets, and mattress, dressing robe abandoned on the back of a chair, uniforms laid out near to-hand atop his sea- chests, and the contents of the chests, too, if carelessly left open… all had gotten Toulon's and Chalky's 'liquid blessings'! Teeth and wee claws had marked Nicely's boots, sword-belt, and leather scabbard covering, too, and his bright brass or gilt brassards, buttons, or sword fixtures had gone a gangrenous shade of green by the time Lewrie had come back aboard.

'Why, those…!' Nicely had barked, like to lift his boots from assault, draw his knees to his chest, or climb atop his chair and let out a screech like a lady who'd seen a mouse. 'Why… there are the little darlings,' he'd pretended to coo, instead, after he'd gotten past the urge to kick them as far as the stern transom settee. Only to be polite to his host!

'Aspinall?' Lewrie had called out. 'I assume we've nothing more private to discuss, Captain Nicely, so I might…?'

'Aye, have him in,' Nicely had quickly agreed.

'Thought you were keeping an eye on the cats, lad,' Lewrie said as his steward returned.

'Oh, I woz, sir. 'Twoz feedin' 'em tasty scraps, but…'

'If you'd… herd 'em aft, for a bit longer, I'd be grateful,' Lewrie had gently bade him.

'O' course, sir. Here, lads! Come, Toulon! Come, Chalky, an' here's more bacon shreds for ye, there's th' good littl'un!' Aspinall coaxed, as they trotted for the day-cabin, tails fully erect. Once by Lewrie's desk, though, the cats did take a moment to gloat over their little shoulders, lick their chops, and seem to grin at each other as if highly pleased with themselves!

'I'll see you to the deck, if that is all you, ah…' Lewrie offered, dabbing his mouth with a napkin and rising.

'Ah, well, aye,' Nicely had replied with a sigh, setting aside his own napkin, and getting to his own feet. 'One last thing, sir.'

'Aye?'

'Sir Hyde, and Lord Balcarres, both bade me relate to you that they appreciate all you've achieved since coming under their command, Lewrie,' Nicely had whispered to him. 'They, and I, think you much too valuable an officer to be sacrificed. Though we all consider you the damnedest fool… should the Beaumans' suspicions hold even a drop of water. Sir Hyde particularly stressed his approval of your fighting qualities, your, ah… unorthodox way of achieving whatever you're set to accomplish. We, all of us, wish you to know that, should you have need of patronage in future, you may… should the Beau-mans insist on laying false charges… count on our support.'

And, were the charges true, Lewrie would end swinging in small circles in the wind, at the end of a fresh, new rope, it went without saying!

'I'll miss ye, Lewrie, 'deed I shall,' Nicely had said, by way of gruff departure. 'Best of luck, young sir,' he added, offering his hand for a fierce shake.

'Thank you for that, sir… for all you've done for me in the past… truly,' Lewrie had soberly answered, realising that the thing was still afoot, that formal charges for grand theft could follow him wherever a mail-packet could go, and, unless he walked away from his ship in a foreign port, there could always be a British court near to hand to find him and haul him before its bench.

'I really do like you, Lewrie,' Nicely had declared, then, as fiercely as privacy allowed. That was as far as he could go, though; that was all he'd allow himself to say on the matter.

'I hope we have the chance to serve together, again, sir,' he had replied to that. 'Goodbye, sir. May you have a successful cruise down there against the Frogs and Dons, and continued success in your career.'

'Thankee, Captain Lewrie, thankee,' Nicely had gruffly said.

Then it had been time for them to call for their swords, hats, and marks of dignity, then go out onto the main deck; up to the quarterdeck, then the starboard gangway as the side-party had assembled, and the strict ritual for the departure of a senior officer was performed. Proteus's crew, Black and White, still mellow from that rum issue, and their own mid-day meal, had doffed their hats and raised a second cheer for good old Capt. Nicely.

And Lewrie had stood by the entry-port, hat raised high over his head in salute to watch Capt. Nicely enter his barge and be rowed away to his bright, new frigate… and had suddenly never felt so alone in all his born days.

BOOK I

Dulcis inexpertis cultura portentis amici;

expertus metuit.

Those who have never tried think it pleasant

to court a friend in power; one who has tried

dreads it.

Horace, Epistles I, xvm, 86-87