Rapscallion

manner of fancy goods. Everybody's happy.' Morgan's face clouded. 'Or at least we were, until the bastard Excise stuck their oar in.'

Morgan, incensed, had forgotten his audience and had vented the last sentence in English.

'Oar?' Lasseur said, confused by the sudden switch.

'Only stole our bloody boats, didn't they?'

Morgan paused, realizing his slip. With a gesture of apology, he reverted to French. 'Government orders; all galleys in the south-east to be seized and destroyed. Dover, Folkestone, Sandgate, Hythe - there isn't a town that hasn't been hit. They confiscated nearly twenty vessels at Deal. That's the second time the place has borne the brunt. I was there in '84 when Pitt sent the troops in. He wanted to teach the town a lesson on account of its involvement in the Trade. They set fire to its entire fleet. Burnt all the boats in one night.'

Morgan shook his head in disdain. 'And they wonder why Deal folk have a tendency for rebellion. You'd be rebellious, too, if you'd seen your livelihood going up in flames. By God, the government was keen enough to accept the help of Deal men to bring the Danish fleet back to England back in '08 and to use their galleys at Walcheren, and it doesn't object when we pass it word of what we've seen and heard as regards Boney's activities. But if some poor bloody foot soldier or fisherman tries to put food on his table by bringing in a few tubs, that's a different matter. And do you think there's mention of compensation for seizing and burning a man's boat? Like hell there is!'

Morgan picked up the coins and replaced them in the bag. Despite his display of anger, his movements were calm and unhurried.

When the last coin had been put away, he looked up and sighed. When he spoke, his voice was steady. 'I told you earlier it wasn't personal, it was business. That's not strictly true. Those were my galleys they seized. I use them because they're not subject to the whim of the breeze. They're swift and they're manoeuvrable and they don't need a lot of men to crew them. A good team can cross the Channel in a couple of hours. Not having the galleys increases the chances of the guinea runs being intercepted. And if I can't deliver, Bonaparte will close off his ports, which means I'll lose business. I've got customers, people who rely on me. I have responsibilities; investors, who won't take kindly to being short-changed. My reputation's at stake. That makes it personal.' Morgan paused and then said, 'Which is why you're here, gentlemen. To hell with those bastards in the government; with your help I'm going to teach them a lesson they'll never forget.'

'How?' Lasseur asked.

'By giving them a taste of their own medicine. They've taken from me, so I'm going to take from them. They think they've stopped the gold runs. I'm going to prove them wrong. I'm going to get Bonaparte his gold.'

Hawkwood said, 'And you're going to do that, how ... ?'

'I'm going to steal it.'

'From the government?'

'Not exactly.'

'Who then?'

Morgan smiled. 'Wellington.'

'Lord Wellington?' Hawkwood said cautiously.

Morgan tossed the bag of coin to Pepper, who caught it nimbly with his good hand. 'You know of another one?'

Hawkwood ignored the riposte. 'The last I heard, Wellington was still in Spain. How are you going to steal his gold?'

'Well, strictly speaking, it's the army's gold. It's to pay Old Nosey's troops.'

'You want us to help you steal gold from the British Army?' Rousseau blinked behind his spectacles.

Hawkwood flicked a glance at the faces around the table. Everyone was looking equally stunned.

Finally, after several seconds' consideration, Souville enquired tentatively, 'How much gold?'

Morgan placed his palms on the table and leant forward. 'Five hundred thousand pounds' worth.'

Beaudouin, his eyes as wide as saucers, was the first to break the silence. 'What's that in francs?'

'About twelve million,' Rousseau said, sitting back in his seat and polishing his spectacles with the hem of his shirt.

'God Almighty!' Leberte breathed.

Morgan surveyed the room. 'I take it your interest has been piqued, gentlemen?'

You could say that, Hawkwood thought, his brain spinning.

'This gold,' Lasseur said cautiously, 'where is it?'

'At the moment, that's not important; it's where it's going to be in four days' time.'

'And where's that?'

'Deal.'

'Deal?' Lasseur stared at Morgan in disbelief.

'They've been using the place as a transit point for bullion for years.' Morgan smiled wryly. 'You've got to admit, it does have a certain irony.'

'Where in Deal?' Le Jeune's tone was instantly suspicious.

'There's a castle,' Lasseur said, looking at Morgan for confirmation.

'There is indeed, but that's not where they're storing it. Captain. That's the beauty.'

Lasseur's features took on a dubious frown. 'Where then?'

'The Port Admiral's residency.'

'Why in the name of God would they be storing it there?'

'Because that's where they put all the bullion that goes through the town. Before the government bought the house, it belonged to a banker. It still has a strong room. All specie and bullion passing through Deal is kept there. It's either landed from a ship to be forwarded by escorted wagon to London or it's transported from the London banks to Deal for shipment abroad, usually to Spain to pay the army.'

'And how do you plan to remove this gold? Knock on the front door and ask them to hand it over?' Lasseur looked sceptical.

'I was thinking of something a little more persuasive.'

Hawkwood realized that no one had asked the pertinent question. It looked as if it was up to him.

'Why us? What about your own crew? You told me if there was one thing you weren't short of, it was men.'

Morgan nodded. 'That I did, Captain, and it's no word of a lie. But there's no harm in recruiting extra bodies, especially men who've proved they're not afraid of a challenge and who are willing to take risks to achieve their objective. In my book, you all fit the bill. You've endured hell on the prison ships and yet you've not been cowed by capture. You've escaped using ingenuity and lived to tell the tale. That proves to me you have the character. You're all experienced seamen and soldiers. That tells me you're used to discipline and can work as a unit. More importantly, you've no allegiance to King George, so I doubt you'll consider betraying our intention to the authorities. In short, gentlemen, my proposition is this: I'm offering you a chance to get your own back on the country that's treated you worse than rats in a cage. They say revenge is sweet. What do you say? Do you fancy a taste?'

Morgan's eyes flashed. 'Think of the glory. Instead of returning home with your tails between your legs as prisoners captured on the field, you'll be going back as free men, laden with treasure. By God, gentlemen, you'll be given a heroes' welcome! When your Emperor sees what you've done for him, there's nothing you will want for!'

'And you're doing this because your boats have been confiscated?' Lasseur said, staring hard at Morgan.

'I'm doing it for two reasons, Captain. The first is payback for what they've stolen from me and from the men of Deal. As for the second; the way I see it, twelve million francs will buy me a lot of favours with your Emperor. He'll keep his ports open and I can carry on trading; hopefully build more galleys. The last thing I need is a breakdown in supply. I don't want to give the edge to my competitors.'

'I didn't think you had any competitors,' Hawkwood said.

Morgan gave Hawkwood a sharp look. 'There's always someone who thinks they should be top dog. Right now, that's me. I intend to keep it that way. Look upon this as a special delivery. A gesture of good faith on my