Rapscallion

'The captain was not solely responsible,' Lasseur said.

The privateer glanced towards Jess Flynn as he spoke and Hawkwood saw a look pass between them. He wondered how much Lasseur had told her. She didn't look shocked by the admission.

'That's as maybe,' Gadd said. 'Not that it matters. Morgan wants the two of you found. And he wants you dead. Probably planning to do it himself. Rumour has it that he likes to keep his hand in. He thought you'd try for a boat, so he's got his people making enquiries along the coast. He's got 'em watching the roads, too. I haven't seen this much activity since the army thought Boney was going to invade back in '04. Word is, he can't believe you've lasted these past two days without being seen. You'd've thought...' The seaman's voice trailed off, rendered mute by the look on Hawkwood's face.

Lasseur's head lifted.

Hawkwood stared at the old seaman. 'How long did you say?'

'How long, what?' Gadd said.

'How long did you say we've been here?' Hawkwood stood up.

Gadd looked at Jess Flynn, whose hands, dusted with flour, had stilled at the coldness in Hawkwood's tone.

'Since the day before yesterday. The captain brought you by boat. Jessie and I thought he was too late. You were in a bad way, all covered in mud. Looked like you weren't breathing. Had the devil of a job lugging you up the stairs. Captain and me had to peel your clothes off, they were that damp. You smelled something rotten, too.' Gadd paused. 'Why're you asking?'

Hawkwood stared down at Lasseur as the significance of Gadd's words struck home. 'You told me we'd only been here a day. We've been here two days. That means the robbery's not due tomorrow; it's tonight!'

It hit him then, like a hammer blow to the ribs.

'My God, you want them to go ahead!' Suddenly everything had become clear. 'That's it, isn't it? You actually want Morgan to go through with it!'

At first the privateer did not respond. Finally, he spread his hands in an admission of defeat. 'You have me.' He gave Hawkwood a look of wry contrition. 'What can I say? I knew you'd discover my ruse eventually. Though I had hoped it would take you a little while longer.' His eyebrows lifted as he met Hawkwood's gaze. 'You look shocked, my friend. But what would you do if the situation was reversed and you had the chance to relieve your enemy of the means to feed and equip his army? Would you take it? I think we both know the answer to that. I'm a patriot, Matthew, and for that I make no apology. I told you I looked upon you as my friend, but I love France. And France needs that gold.'

'Gold?' Gadd said. 'What bloody gold?'

'You're siding with Morgan?' Hawkwood said, ignoring Gadd's look of confusion. 'You'd do that, knowing he sent his men after us? Two of your own countrymen tried to kill you! How does that fit in with your definition of patriotism?'

'Jessie?' Gadd said. 'Do you know what they're on about?'

Jess Flynn stood still, her eyes flicking between the two men. She was obviously as bewildered as Gadd by the sudden turn of events.

Lasseur shook his head. 'I'm not the one who's important. It's for the greater good.'

'That's why you were so concerned for my health,' Hawkwood said. 'And why you were persuading me to stay put. If Morgan does go ahead with the raid tonight, you knew any message sent from Barham in the morning would be too damned late.'

He pushed the chair back angrily, his eyes moving to the open door. Sunset was a little over two hours away. There was still time to get to the telegraph station at Barham and use the shutters to send a warning to the authorities at Deal and the Admiralty before darkness rendered the system impotent.

But would Morgan be making his play tonight? Would he take a chance, knowing that his quarry was still free? Hawkwood knew he couldn't take the risk that Morgan wouldn't go through with his plan.

He spun towards Jess Flynn who was still staring at them both as if mesmerized. 'I need a horse, Jess! Now!'

'Would somebody mind tellin' the rest of us what the bloody hell's going on?' Gadd implored. 'What's all this talk about gold?'

'Morgan's planning to attack the Admiral's residency at Deal and steal the army's pay chests,' Hawkwood said. 'Then he's going to sell the gold to the French. It's possible he's going to do it tonight. Captain Lasseur here would like to see him get away with it. I'd like to stop him.'

'Bloody hell!' Gadd took a step backwards.

Hawkwood turned to Lasseur. 'What now, Captain? Is this where you try and stop me? '

Lasseur smiled sadly. 'I did not think it would come to this, my friend.'

'Me neither,' Hawkwood admitted truthfully.

Lasseur started to rise from the table. 'I am sorry, Matthew.'

'No!' Jess Flynn cried.

Hawkwood tensed; thought about the knife in his boot and how quickly he could reach it.

'Best stay where you are, Cap'n. I'd hate to have to shoot you.'

'Tom!' Jess Flynn said urgently.

Hawkwood looked around. Gadd had retrieved the fowling piece. The muzzle was pointed at Lasseur's chest. Tom Gadd's finger was curled around the trigger.

'It's loaded, Cap'n, in case you were wondering. I keep it that way on account of I always need game for the pot and you never know when something's going to come flying up out of the barley. So before you try anything stupid, you can rest assured there's no way you can move your body from behind that table faster than I can squeeze this trigger.'

Lasseur showed his palms and lowered himself into his seat, the half smile still hovering on his face.

'That's the way,' Gadd said. 'Make yourself comfortable while the rest of us try and figure things out. Army pay chests, you say?'

'For Wellington's troops in Spain,' Hawkwood said.

'And Morgan plans to give 'em to Bonaparte?'

'No, he plans to sell them to him.'

Gadd sucked on a tooth. 'Can't say as I like the sound of giving Old Nosey's gold to the French. I've smuggled a few guineas in my time, but we never stole 'em from our own lads. Seems to me you've got to draw the line somewhere. And if Morgan's fingers are in the pie, you'd have to be bloody stupid not to know he's featherin' his own nest at the same time. Heard you mention Barham. You talking about the telegraph?'

'That's right.'

Gadd drew himself up. 'Best get going then. You leave now, you'll still make it before dark. There's two horses in the barn. Take the mare. She's the quicker. The cob's more used to pulling a cart. You want the Dover Road; take the track through the bottom wood till you reach the church, then turn south. That'll take you all the way to Barham Downs. You'll see the shutter station on top of the hill. Can't bloody miss it. We'll keep the captain here while you're gone. Maybe enjoy some of Jessie's cooking and a wet at the same time. That sit all right with you, Jessie?' Before she had time to reply, Gadd turned. 'You still here, Constable? Best get your finger out. Time's a wasting.'

Hawkwood looked back at Lasseur. 'Safe journey, Captain,' Lasseur said, making it sound almost as though he meant it.

Hawkwood left the kitchen at a run.

And saw the flash at the top of the slope as he turned towards the barn.

Too damned late, he thought, knowing that it had to be the sun glancing off a spyglass lens. He'd experienced the phenomenon too many times for it to be anything else.

Reacting instinctively, he was already ducking back into the house as the first of the horsemen broke silently from the edge of the trees above him.

Then the dog began to bark.