Gradually the night wore on, and at last the Governor and his lady rose to their feet and the party was over. There were the last few weary minutes of awkward conversation as the carriages were announced one by one, and then Sharpe returned to the drawing-room after escorting the last of the guests to the door.
“A successful evening, I fancy. I trust Your Lordship agrees with me,” he said, and turned to his wife. “But I must ask you, my dear, to remember to reprimand Grover about the soufflé.”
The entry of the butler with another murmured message prevented Mrs Sharpe’s reply.
“Your Lordship’s pardon for a moment,” said Sharpe. He wore an expression of dismay and hastened out of the room, leaving Hornblower and Gerard to begin polite words of thanks to his hostess for his pleasant evening.
“Gambronne’s stolen a march on us!” exclaimed Sharpe, returning with a rapid waddle. “Daring left her mooring three hours ago! Cambronne must have gone on board her the moment he left here.”
He swung round on his wife.
“Was the Baroness really ill?” he demanded of her.
“She seemed decidedly faint,” replied Mrs Sharpe.
“It must have been all a plant,” said Sharpe. “She was acting. Cambronne put the Vautours up to it because he wanted a chance to get clear away.”
“What do you think he means to do?” asked Hornblower.
“God knows. But I expect he was disconcerted by the arrival of a King’s ship here. His leaving in this fashion means he’s up to no good. San Domingo – Cartagena – where’ll he take that Imperial Guard of his?”
“I’ll get after him in any case,” said Hornblower, rising to his feet.
“You’ll find it hard to overtake him,” said Sharpe – the fact that he said ‘you’ and not ‘Your Lordship’ was a proof of his agitation. “He has taken two tugs – the Lightning and the Star – and with the new lighthouses on the river a galloping horse wouldn’t overtake him before he reaches the Pass. He’ll be clear out to sea by daylight. I don’t know if we can find a tug for you tonight in any case, My Lord.”
“I’ll start after him, all the same,” said Hornblower.
“I’ve ordered the carriage round, My Lord,” said Sharpe. “Forgive me, my dear, if we leave without ceremony.”
Mrs Sharpe received the hasty bows of the three men; the butler was waiting with their hats; the carriage stood at the door, and they scrambled in.
“Cambronne’s bonded freight went on board at nightfall,” said Sharpe. “My man is meeting me at your ship with his report.”
“That may help us make up our minds,” said Hornblower.
The carriage lurched in along the pitch dark streets.
“May I make a suggestion, My Lord?” asked Gerard.
“Yes. What is it?”
“Whatever scheme Cambronne has in mind, My Lord, Vautour is party to it. And he is a servant of the French Government.”
“You’re right. The Bourbons want a finger in every pie,” agreed Sharpe, thoughtfully. “They take every opportunity to assert themselves. Anyone would think it was them that we beat at Waterloo, and not Boney.”
The sound of the horses’ hoofs changed suddenly as the carriage reached the pier. They stopped, and Sharpe had the door open before the footman could leap down from the box, but as the three men scrambled out he stood beside the door hat in hand, his dark face illuminated by the carriage lamps.
“Wait!” snapped Sharpe.
They almost ran along the pier to where the glimmer of a lamp revealed the gangway; the two hands of the anchor watch stood at attention in the darkness as they hastened on board.
“Mr Harcourt!” shouted Hornblower as soon as his foot touched the deck; this was no time to stand on ceremony. There was a light in the companion and Harcourt was there.
“Here, My Lord.”
Hornblower pushed his way into the after cabin; a lighted lantern dangled from the deck beam, and Gerard brought in another one.
“What’s your report, Mr Harcourt?”
“The Daring sailed at five bells in the first watch, My Lord,” said Harcourt. “She had two tugs with her.”
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