Troubled Waters

'Perhaps we could bribe these fishermen in other ways, Hogue,' Lewrie mused. 'Bosun stores, lumber, spare canvas and such? With rum} Ragged as most of 'em dress, slop-clothing might move 'em! Tell our cutter captains we must do it 'on the cheap,' but done it must be. If the French prove t'be too strong t'take on, then we won't become debtors and beggars. If the endeavour does prove practicable, then we've bought ourselves a victory for ha'pence.'

'I shall be on my way, then, sir,' Hogue declared after he had finished his cold tea, 'and thank you for a most refreshing beverage. I must obtain some lemons from shore, do they grow them here, and emulate you.'

'God speed, young sir, and it was damned good t'see you, after all these years. My congratulations 'pon your promotion, and command, and aye… now we work together again, as we did in the Far East, we may raise a parcel o Mischief on the French, hey?' Lewrie said as he walked him to the quarterdeck.

'I await such with all avidity, Captain Lewrie!' Hogue assured him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Another day, another disappointment, Lewrie glumly decided, as HMS Savage sidled up alongside yet another French fishing boat, nearly five miles off Soulac sur Mer, now better known as 'Soo-Lack.' He had met up with Capitaine Jules Papin and his Marie Doux several days past, but rencontre with that fish-smelly rogue had not exactly been all that productive in the way of information.

In other ways, Papin had proved true to his word, for his boat had produced nearly a sling-load of goodies from shore. Papin had promised cheeses and eggs, and he had come through, to the delight of the Midshipmen's mess, and the officers' wardroom, who had vowed to chip in and go shares. Navy-issue cheese came in two varieties; a Cheddar and something else unidentifiable, hard, and crumbly, both of which sprouted mould and simply oozed wormlets after a month or so at sea. These, though, were fresh, and as creamy, sweet, and soft on the tongue as pats of butter.

The eggs, several dozen of them, had probably not been candled to determine whether the shells hid tasty yolks or un-hatched chicks, but a quick inspection in front of a strong lanthorn could decide that, and, with luck, the broody hens already roosting in Savage's forecastle manger would accept a few extras and keep them warm 'til they hatched… resulting in a few more roast chicken suppers for the fortunates.

Papin had come through with several straw baskets of fruit, as well; apples, pears, and such. There had been middling sacks of sugar and flour, baskets of table grapes, and bags of raisins. Three young suckling pigs, two smallish turkeys, and a kid goat…

'And a par-tri-idge in a pear tree!' Midshipman Mayhall had caroled, to the amusement of all, as he seized a bag of fresh cherries.

Small baskets of peas and beans, for fresh soups, not the reconstituted 'portable' soup the Navy issued in gangrenous-looking slabs; salad greens, carrots, cabbages, and onions, oh my, it was a Godsend!

And for Lewrie, along with some foodstuffs, had come a case of wine, a mix of Medocs, Sauternes, and white Graves, along with the reds of the region from Chateau Margaux, Chateau Latour, Brave-Mouton and Lafite. There were Batail-leys, d'Issans, Loudennes, Paulliac and St.-Estephe, and, wonder of wonders, a one-gallon stone crock of American bourbon whisky, which bore the stencil-painted mark of the Evan Williams distillery in far-off Bardstown, Kentucky!

'Capitaine Papin, you are a miracle worker!' Lewrie had told him.

'Non, m'sieur, I am ze smuggler, miraculeux,' Papin had sourly rejoined. 'I am ze smuggler 'oo is to he paid, n'est-ce pas? Ze dry smuggler, in need of ze rum, hawn hawn.'

They had repaired below to crack a bottle for Papin, which he'd keep, and a second bottle for his crew, to keep them sweet and silent. Lewrie dug into his coin purse and laid out the reckoning, allowing the Frenchman to see the gold guinea coins that he had placed in it just for that purpose.

'You are successful in prize-money, Capitaine, kein? ' Papin commented as Lewrie laid the purse out of reach… but still in sight. Papin licked his lips and gave the wash-leather draw-string purse sly side-of-his-eye glances, and rubbed his still unshaven chin.

'Rather well, in fact,' Lewrie told him. He thanked Papin for the delivery, striving to not sound too profusely grateful, hinting that a working arrangement, once a week or so, would be welcome.

'And… there is another matter, one you raised when we first crossed hawses, Capitaine Papin,' Lewrie said, striving, too, for off-handedness; idle curiosity, not avidity. 'Concerning information?'

'Ah, oui, ze information, hawn hawn,' Papin said, a hand inside his coarse and filthy smock to scratch his chest. 'I do not know zat much, but…' He tossed back a deep slug of rum, keeping his eye locked on Lewrie's all the time. 'What m'sieur wish to know?'

'Well, for one, do the gunners at Saint Georges de Didonne keep the guns manned round the clock? Damme, I must sail into the bay and keep watch, but I dislike being shot at all the time,' Lewrie said in a forced chuckle. 'Savage is a stout ship, but not proof against their fourty-two-pounders.'

Papin smiled back, saying nothing; a particularly greasy smile.

'Mean t'say…,' Lewrie had gone on, feeling lame, 'do they have enough troops t'maintain three watches?'

'Give me guinea, m'sieur,' Papin soberly said, holding out his hand, palm up. 'Garrison is small. Non 'ave 'eavy guns. Dix-huit, ze eighteens, et ze douze? Ze… twelves? Only ze six six-pounders in water battery, below, an' ze swivels. Non as much as you fear. Ze guinea… vite, vite?' he insisted, snapping his fingers.

Lewrie handed over a guinea coin, still unsure if he was being twitted and taken for a fool; it sounded too good to be true. 'Not as many as I fear, is it? How many of the heavier guns, Capitaine}'

'I see zem drill, I 'ave count, Capitaine Lirr … m 'sieur,' Papin growled as he slipped the coin into a slop-trouser pocket. 'Mon Dieu, keep Marie Doux at Royan dock, 'ave home in Royan, an' when zey practice, zey keep all awake!

'Each face 'ave ze four openings, oui?' Papin explained, leaning forward. 'Fort 'ave two of ze twelves, only one of ze eighteens, each face, comprendre? Only 'ave men each gun require, plus ze dozen more for keep watch, hein} Old navire de guerre at Bordeaux, rotted at piers, zey strip an' bring id by ze barges. Ozzer old ships zat cannot sail, I'Armee strip, aussi, tak mos' guns to forts on Channel, to I'Est… on German frontier, m'sieur.'

'As they bring the stone for the Pointe de Grave battery walls?' Lewrie asked, pouring Papin another dollop of rum.

'Out,' Papin agreed, leaning back in his chair, legs extended. 'Stone mus' come from ze Dordogne, zere is beaucoup trop sand in zis part of Medoc, an' Saintonge, cross river.'

'Many barges?' Lewrie prompted. 'Are they ever escorted?' ' Une more guinea,' Papin tantalised, hand out once more. 'When you can tell me how many, and when they come,' Lewrie said instead, slyly chuckling. 'And, if they're escorted. I assume they put into that wee harbour behind Le Verdon sur Mer? '

'Sometime,' Papin slowly allowed, with his own sly laugh. 'What does lie behind the point? In the port, bay, and cove?' 'M'sieur, you do not pay, I do not remember,' Papin