Yet Stephen, after some years at sea, was quite used to pallid insensible seamen, and when he had made sure that Abram’s limbs, spine and skull were unbroken, he pumped him out and had him carried to the sick-berth. He was perfectly well and going about his duties by the time Jacob came back. If anyone had noticed his absence it must have been thought official or medical – a spell at the hospital or the like – for his return excited no comment at all, particularly as he had again changed his clothes. –
He found Stephen counting glass-hard slabs of portable soup and he said, ‘I do hope my sudden disappearance did not prove inconvenient? I had sudden word of a friend the other side of the water.’
‘Not in the least. I hope the voyage was worth the displacement?’
‘You shall judge for yourself: on the other side their notions of security are contemptible and I have my information from no less than three concordant sources.’ They were speaking French, as they generally did when there was anything of a medical, private or confidential nature; but now, even so, he lowered his voice: ‘The Arzila galley is at present in Tangier, loaded, very heavily manned and as heavily armed as a galley can be: two twenty-four pounders in the bows and two in the stern, with a fair amount of musketry when she proceeds under sail. The guns are said to be particularly fine – brass, very exactly bored, with truly spherical and accurate round-shot. Yahya ben Khaled, who is in command, means to pass the Strait, unless there is a very strong’east wind in his teeth, on Friday night, a night of complete darkness, to make straight for Durazzo, deliver his gold – he has given his parents, wives and children as sureties – take his tenth part and return, using his great strength against all the merchantmen he finds.’
‘It is a bold stroke.’
‘Indeed it is. Murad Reis is very well known for his bold strokes, his bold and almost invariably successful bold strokes. He always helps Fate as much as ever he can, and this time he has hired two smaller galleys to act as decoys, one sailing close to the African shore and one in midchannel, while he, lying under Tarifa, makes his dash along the European side.’
‘Amos,’ said Stephen, ‘I am inexpressibly gratified by your news. Will you come and repeat it all to Captain Aubrey?’
‘Certainly.’
Jack listened to him gravely, his face gradually assuming the look of an eagle, one of the larger eagles, that sees its prey at no great distance.
‘Dr Jacob,’ he said, shaking his hand, ‘I thank you very heartily indeed for this piece of intelligence – this matchless piece of intelligence, as I believe I may call it. So if the wind has anything of west in it, Murad Reis sails on Friday, lies under Tarifa until I presume the turn of the tide a little after midnight and so makes his attempt. Clearly we must be ready for him.’ He reflected. ‘And there is this to be said,’ he went on. ‘If there is so much indiscreet talk in Tangier, and if an account of it can come over so quickly, we must suppose that any indiscretion on our part may go over to the other side of the Strait with the same speed. Now I shall stop all shore-leave, of course; and since by tomorrow morning we shall have all our supplies, the only thing that could betray our intention of sailing is the carrying of our sick ashore. I am ashamed to say that I do not immediately call the sick-list to mind.’
‘Oh, as to that,’ said Stephen, ‘we only have a couple of obstinate poxes and a hernia, and those I can hand over the rail to my old friend Walker of Polyphemus late on Friday evening.’
‘Very good, very good indeed: so by the time any fool chooses to blab, we shall with God’s grace be well out at sea.’
Chapter Ten
Captain Aubrey and his officers spent that afternoon going along the Strait in Ringle, very carefully surveying and in places sounding as they went; and at one point, far to the
westward, they met two heavy frigates, Acasta and Lavinia, with whom they exchanged numbers: both had obviously suffered much from the weather, and both were still pumping without a pause – strong, thick jets flying to leeward.
Out and along the Strait, the familiar skyline memorized even more firmly, and back in the late afternoon: and speaking privately to Stephen in the cabin, Jack said, ‘Now that it belongs to the past, Jacob’s piece of intelligence, so whole and perfect, seems to me to be too good to be true.’
‘Whole and perfect, to be sure. But I believe it to be true. Jacob and Arden are the only two men in this matter of intelligence for whom I would lay my head on the block.’
‘In that case, dear Stephen, I shall shift my clothes, pull across to the flag and either ask for an interview or leave this note.’ He passed it and Stephen read Captain Aubrey presents his respectful compliments to Lord Barmouth and on account of very recent intelligence most urgently begs leave to sail this evening: he takes the liberty of adding that his political adviser is wholly of the same mind.
‘Very well put, Jack,’ he said.
Jack smiled and called, ‘Killick. Killick, there. Plain coat, decent breeches; and tell Bonden I shall need the barge directly.’
The barge received him and took him across the smooth water to the flag, where, in reply to the hail, Bonden called ‘Surprise’. After the formalities of the reception of a postcaptain Jack said, ‘I am sorry to trouble you again, Holden, but I must either see the Admiral or have this note conveyed to him.’
Moments later the flag-lieutenant returned, begged Captain Aubrey to come this way, and brought him to the great cabin, where Lord Barmouth, looking ten years younger, received him with a cordiality he had never known before, though the Admiral had always been known as a temperamental man, moving from one extreme to another.
‘As for this note,’ said the Commander-in-Chief, ‘how happy do you feel about your source of intelligence?’
‘Happy enough to stake my life upon it, my Lord,’ said Jack. ‘And Dr Maturin is of the same opinion.’
‘Then you shall certainly go. But Aubrey, I had no idea that you were a childhood friend of my wife’s – indeed some sort of a cousin. Acasta came in this afternoon, bringing her at last, in blooming health in spite of the weather – she is a splendid sailor – and as she had a package for Lady Keith we went straight over to their place. They very kindly kept us to dinner – just an impromptu scratch dinner, the four of us – and I do not know how your name arose but it very soon became apparent that both the women had known you ever since you were breeched and even before: they had followed you from ship to ship in the Gazette and the Navy List, and when they put a foot wrong, as in the date of your appointment to Sophie, Lord Keith put them right. In the end it was decided that we should ask the Keiths and you and Dr Maturin – Lord Keith has the highest opinion of him – to dine with us aboard the flag tomorrow. But I fear this request of yours may put it out of your power.’
‘I am afraid it does, my Lord; but I am very sensible of your goodness, and I am sure Maturin will say the same.’
The Admiral bent his head, and went on, ‘Now as to the request, do you feel entirely confident of your agent’s intelligence?’
‘Entirely so, my Lord: should commit my ship and myself to the hilt; and Maturin agrees.’
‘And the occasion is urgent?’
‘It could not be more so, my Lord.’
‘You must go, then. But Lady Barmouth and I will be very happy to see you both and the Keiths on your return.’ He rang the bell and told his steward to bring the old, old, very old brandy. When it came he filled their glasses and drank ‘to Surprise and her success’.
‘This is famous brandy, upon my word,’ said Jack; and after a pause he went on with a certain embarrassment, ‘I never had the honour of serving under Admiral Horton and being very often out of England I never heard either of his marriage or his death.’
‘He married Isobel Carrington just after he was given his flag.’
‘Isobel Carrington!’ cried Jack. ‘Of course I should have thought of her when you spoke of Queenie and her. Isobel and Queenie! Lord, those names bring back such delightfully happy memories! I shall very much look forward to paying my respects to Lady Barmouth. And I thank you most heartily for your permission to sail, my Lord.’