'I suppose finding Bonaparte sitting on Terceira would be trouble of a real nature, don't you think?' offered Gilbert.
'I suppose it would, yes.'
They had reached the boat by then, and Shaw and his mate were resuming their places as oarsmen. Midshipman Paine who had obviously been dozing in the stern-sheets with his hat over his eyes, stirred himself at the commotion in the boat, for Shaw was clearly explaining what had happened, and the boat's crew were staring over their shoulders, sullen and resentful.
'Mr Paine, let us have a hand here, to get this gear aboard.' The two marines posted as sentries came forward. One was Sergeant McCann. As two seamen came out of the boat to pass Gilbert's portmanteau along, Ashton drew McCann aside. 'Sergeant, I thought I made it quite clear that the boat's crew were not permitted to leave the launch?' he asked furiously.
McCann looked down at the lieutenant's hand on his arm and remained silent. 'Sergeant, don't you trifle with me, damn you. You heard what I said.' He shook McCann's arm, barely able to control himself.
'You ordered the boat's crew to remain with the boat, sir, but Mr Paine gave permission for two delegates to nip ashore for some food. The men had brought a little money, d'you see, sir.'
'Sergeant,' insisted Ashton, hissing into McCann's face, 'they had purchased liquor ...'
'They were not alone, then, Mr Ashton,' McCann snarled, his temper fraying to match the sea-officer's, as he caught the whiff of Ashton's breath.
'I shall have you flogged for your impudence, McCann, when I get you back aboard! Now get in the boat, you damned Yankee bugger.'
McCann coloured; for a moment he contemplated responding, thought better of it and shut his mouth. Then he turned on his heel, nodded to the private soldier to precede him and clambered over the gunwhale.
'All sorted out now?' asked Gilbert matter-of-factly, with his thin, supercilious smile.
'Do mind yourself on the thwarts, Mr Gilbert,' Ashton replied equivocally, waving the consul into the boat.
'After you, my dear fellow.'
'Convention demands you go first, Mr Gilbert.'
'Does it now. Well we had better not flout convention then, had we?'
Five minutes later, the launch was pulling clear of the reef, leaving the harbour in comparative peace, for the gulls had destroyed the loaves and only a few continued to quarrel over the last remnants. As for the watching fishermen, they shook their heads in incredulous wonder and resumed their work.
CHAPTER 12
A Matter of Discipline
The recovery of the launch proved a tediously tricky business in the lively sea running off Flores, despite the lee made by the ship. While Marlowe and Birkbeck struggled with the heavy boat, Drinkwater surveyed his unexpected passenger who had scrambled up the ship's side after Ashton. Clearly Mr Gilbert, whatever else he was, was a nimble fellow, not unfamiliar with ships.
'You wish for a passage to Terceira, Mr Gilbert?' Drinkwater asked, after the ritual of introduction.
Gilbert nodded. 'In case word has arrived there concerning Bonaparte,' the British consul tersely replied.
'Yes, yes, I understand, sir, but my orders indicate he will be brought to Flores,' said Drinkwater, stretching the truth to buttress his argument, 'and I fear if I abandon this station,' he paused and shrugged, 'well, who knows?'
Gilbert frowned. 'But you are here to guard him, are you not?' and then Gilbert's quick intellect grasped the import of Ashton's questions about other men-of-war in the offing. Ah, you are expecting other ships, ships which might interfere with the arrangements for the accommodation of Boney'
It was said as a statement of fact and Drinkwater nodded. 'There is, I understand,' he replied, 'a conspiracy afoot in France to have him taken to Canada ...'
Gilbert's eyebrows rose in comprehension. 'Dear God!' he murmured.
'I see you are as apprehensive as I am.'
'Quite so ...'
Both men remained a moment in silence, then Drinkwater suggested, 'I can have you put ashore again here.'
Gilbert shook his head. 'I should really return to Angra.' He paused, then added, 'May I take your boat? She will make the passage under sail, I daresay?' he looked at the launch somewhat dubiously.
'It must be upwards of forty leagues . . .'
'No matter, your boat is up to it.' Drinkwater looked askance at Gilbert; he was clearly a man of resilience and resolution. In the waist the launch was swinging slowly across the ship to its chocks on the booms. 'Very well,' Drinkwater agreed, 'she is provisioned for two days, perhaps you will be kind enough to replenish her when you arrive; we are precious short of stores. Some fruit would be most welcome,' he said, and raising his voice he called, 'Mr Marlowe! Have the launch put back in the water!' Drinkwater ignored the moment's hesitation and the sudden irritated stares of the labouring seamen who were quickly ordered to reverse their efforts; he summoned Ashton.
'Mr Ashton, run down to my cabin and take a look at the chart on my desk. A course for Terceira; you may take Mr Gilbert back to Angra in the launch.'
'Sir, if I might suggest something.'
'Well, what is it?'
Ashton edged round to attempt to exclude Gilbert from his remark to the captain. 'I should like to lay a formal charge against Sergeant McCann.'
'Oh, for heaven's sake, Mr Ashton, now is hardly the moment. What has Sergeant McCann done?'
'Disobeyed my orders, sir,' Ashton hissed intensely.
Drinkwater felt a great weariness overcome him; he was tired of these minor problems, tired of Ashton and the whole confounded pack of these contentious and troublesome men. He was tempted to consign Ashton to the devil, but mastered this intemperate and dangerous instinct; instead he caught sight of Lieutenant Hyde and called him over.
'Mr Hyde, Mr Ashton here says that Sergeant McCann disobeyed his orders.' He turned to Ashton. 'Perhaps you would tell us how this occurred.'
'I left orders that no one was to leave the boat while I waited upon the Governor. Upon my return I found two men had defied me and been into the town ...'
'Yes, and ...'
'To what purpose did these two men go into town?' Drinkwater persisted.
'That is the point, sir, they had been into town and purchased liquor.'
'What liquor?' Hyde asked.
'What does it matter what liquor? They had disobeyed my orders and left the boat...'
'Were sentries posted?' Hyde pressed.
'Yes, of course, under your Sergeant McCann ...'
'But Sergeant McCann was only in charge of the marines. Who commanded the boat?'
'Well, Midshipman Paine.'
'Then why isn't he in the soup?'
'I think we should have a word with Midshipman Paine,' broke in Drinkwater. 'Be so kind as to send for him.'
It took a few moments to fish Paine back out of the launch which was now bobbing alongside again. He
