Chapter Two - HMS Hotspur
Hare, the acting Commandant of the garrison, was a man who resembled his name to an almost ludicrous degree. He had a long face with a pointed chin, thin grey hair that stuck up and large teeth. He also had a hare's nature in some respects, dim-witted and cowardly, but mixed with a degree of weak- natured malice that was all too human. In fact he was a distillation of Lt Buckland's worst qualities. Which was a very good thing, partly because he was easily fooled, and partly because if I'd actually liked him my task would have been far worse than it already was.
Hare was also extremely bad at explaining things. I had to listen to a good quarter-hour of drivel, before I could even pick out the salient parts.
"Let me see if I understand, sir. There is a ship on its way from England, expecting to rendezvous with another craft off the coast not far from here. In fact it will be met by the Loire, which should be sufficient to see off a sloop, but you want me to have guards posted in case any of the men should make it ashore."
"The secret must be preserved," Hare wittered, "If word got back to England, then we would would all face great, er, displeasure. Yes. It might even cause an further outbreak of war. That will come, we know that will come, but it wouldn't do for we here to be responsible, good heavens, no."
What a self-centred idiot. "I'll see the guards posted, sir."
"Kincaid, you must remember I command in the, ah, absence of the Commandant. Everything done must be done on my authority."
"Not to worry, sir. I'll tell the men the orders come from you."
"Very well, very well. As long as they know who is in charge."
What a usefully self-centred idiot. He'd just given me complete licence to mess-up the guard dispositions and get away scot-free. Although Hare could hardly be blamed for not guessing what I meant to do. I had an excellent record of efficiency so far, after all.
"And we must, er, arrange signals to the Loire, we don't want to ah, frighten them off too soon, do we?"
"I would have thought frightening them off too soon would be a very good thing, sir. They won't be able to learn anything that way."
"No, no, these are our enemies, Kincaid." For a moment the pointed face looked rat-like. "Enemies of our blood and bone and freedom! We are at war and they deserve to die."
"We're *not* at war, sir, not at the moment."
"The French are not at war. Our war shall never cease!"
"Start shooting and the French may well be at war again, sir. I thought we wanted to avoid that."
"It won't happen if the Loire does her work properly." Hare giggled. "The ship will simply disappear, vanish without trace."
Make that a vicious, self-centred idiot. Unfortunately he could occasionally display the utter obstinacy of the very weak, there would be no use in arguing. However with any luck I could misarrange the signals so the British would have quite enough time to get away before the Loire came into view.
I very much hoped that HMS Hotspur (Hare had known the ship's name, it meant nothing to me) would have the sense to make off once the expected rendezvous failed to materialise. That was before I knew the identity of Hotspur's commanding officer, of course.
Having expected the ship's arrival, we had her under observation from the start. It was impossible to miss the boat coming ashore, although I did manage to confuse our response well enough that most of the ineptly posted guards never got the message. However I couldn't prevent the sighting of two suspicious looking characters who might almost as well have been carrying a large sign saying 'We are Spies'. Even at that distance I recognised one of them.
Horatio.
I nearly panicked then. My instinct was to rush down and join him - an action which would very likely have got me shot by my closest friend, not to mention completely blowing my mission. What saved me was the sight of the man taking aim at the two running figures. I'd shot him before I even realised I might be seen, but as the echo died away, sense returned. This was not the way. Two minutes later I'd misdirected some of the troops, with a story about more men landing further down, and was leading another group in what I firmly hoped would be the wrong direction. It was messy improvisation, touch and go, but it did work. They got away.
There was still the Loire to reckon with, and I suffered agonies, for the delay while Hotspur waited to pick up her missing shore party had been sufficient for the signals to the Loire to get through despite my earlier precautions. But I should have known Horatio would be equal to the challenge. As for my own double-dealing, no-one suspected it. I must count that far more luck than judgement, although it owed something to vivid imaginations as well. By the time I reported back to Hare, half the troops were swearing that the woods had been crawling with enemy men.
Hare was frantic, cursing the Loire, our troops, myself, but he was not suspicious. What preoccupied him more than anything was the probable reaction of our Commandant when he returned.
"He must have seen it all!" he wailed.
"How, sir? I thought he was conferring with Ulysses in England?"
"He was, but he managed to get himself a posting on Hotspur. How do you think there was time for us to learn of Hotspur's mission? The Commandant undertook to provide a delay while Ulysses got a message to us."
"The Commandant was on Hotspur?" What amazed me was not that this should be so, for I did not doubt of Ulysses' ability to arrange it, but that Hare, knowing this, should have given the orders that he had. "Sir, have you wondered how he will react to nearly being blown up by the Loire?"
"The Commandant," said Hare, "would have been proud to lay down his life for Ireland."
That was possibly true, but I did not think he would have wished to lay it down in so utterly unnecessary a manner. On the other hand, that Hare had hoped to get him killed was all too believable. And no concern of mine. It did, however, seem like quite a good time to extract a bit more information.
"What about the Duc who sent the message to England, sir? Has he been arrested?"
Hare chewed his lip. "Now that's, er, rather an odd thing. Yes, a very odd thing, really. Turns out the man left for America two months ago, before the message was ever sent. Yes, very odd, because that, ah, has to mean another person sent it. I don't understand. No-one understands that at all."
I thought I might. "Then it was sent by someone using his name and knowing his contacts. Someone who was very anxious to use another's name."
"Another traitor you mean? Oh excellent, excellent. Should be possible to discover who! Yes, I'll pass that to Paris. They'll be pleased with me."
A witch-hunt nicely set in motion, all to divert suspicion from my real guess. A persecution of men who were innocent, though enemies. God, what was I becoming?
All in all, a very bad day. When I got out of Hare's office I was violently sick.
Hare, the acting Commandant of the garrison, was a man who resembled his name to an almost ludicrous degree. He had a long face with a pointed chin, thin grey hair that stuck up and large teeth. He also had a hare's nature in some respects, dim-witted and cowardly, but mixed with a degree of weak- natured malice that was all too human. In fact he was a distillation of Lt Buckland's worst qualities. Which was a very good thing, partly because he was easily fooled, and partly because if I'd actually liked him my task would have been far worse than it already was.
Hare was also extremely bad at explaining things. I had to listen to a good quarter-hour of drivel, before I could even pick out the salient parts.
"Let me see if I understand, sir. There is a ship on its way from England, expecting to rendezvous with another craft off the coast not far from here. In fact it will be met by the Loire, which should be sufficient to see off a sloop, but you want me to have guards posted in case any of the men should make it ashore."
"The secret must be preserved," Hare wittered, "If word got back to England, then we would would all face great, er, displeasure. Yes. It might even cause an further outbreak of war. That will come, we know that will come, but it wouldn't do for we here to be responsible, good heavens, no."
What a self-centred idiot. "I'll see the guards posted, sir."
"Kincaid, you must remember I command in the, ah, absence of the Commandant. Everything done must be done on my authority."
"Not to worry, sir. I'll tell the men the orders come from you."
"Very well, very well. As long as they know who is in charge."
What a usefully self-centred idiot. He'd just given me complete licence to mess-up the guard dispositions and get away scot-free. Although Hare could hardly be blamed for not guessing what I meant to do. I had an excellent record of efficiency so far, after all.
"And we must, er, arrange signals to the Loire, we don't want to ah, frighten them off too soon, do we?"
"I would have thought frightening them off too soon would be a very good thing, sir. They won't be able to learn anything that way."
"No, no, these are our enemies, Kincaid." For a moment the pointed face looked rat-like. "Enemies of our blood and bone and freedom! We are at war and they deserve to die."
"We're *not* at war, sir, not at the moment."
"The French are not at war. Our war shall never cease!"
"Start shooting and the French may well be at war again, sir. I thought we wanted to avoid that."
"It won't happen if the Loire does her work properly." Hare giggled. "The ship will simply disappear, vanish without trace."
Make that a vicious, self-centred idiot. Unfortunately he could occasionally display the utter obstinacy of the very weak, there would be no use in arguing. However with any luck I could misarrange the signals so the British would have quite enough time to get away before the Loire came into view.
I very much hoped that HMS Hotspur (Hare had known the ship's name, it meant nothing to me) would have the sense to make off once the expected rendezvous failed to materialise. That was before I knew the identity of Hotspur's commanding officer, of course.
Having expected the ship's arrival, we had her under observation from the start. It was impossible to miss the boat coming ashore, although I did manage to confuse our response well enough that most of the ineptly posted guards never got the message. However I couldn't prevent the sighting of two suspicious looking characters who might almost as well have been carrying a large sign saying 'We are Spies'. Even at that distance I recognised one of them.
Horatio.
I nearly panicked then. My instinct was to rush down and join him - an action which would very likely have got me shot by my closest friend, not to mention completely blowing my mission. What saved me was the sight of the man taking aim at the two running figures. I'd shot him before I even realised I might be seen, but as the echo died away, sense returned. This was not the way. Two minutes later I'd misdirected some of the troops, with a story about more men landing further down, and was leading another group in what I firmly hoped would be the wrong direction. It was messy improvisation, touch and go, but it did work. They got away.
There was still the Loire to reckon with, and I suffered agonies, for the delay while Hotspur waited to pick up her missing shore party had been sufficient for the signals to the Loire to get through despite my earlier precautions. But I should have known Horatio would be equal to the challenge. As for my own double-dealing, no-one suspected it. I must count that far more luck than judgement, although it owed something to vivid imaginations as well. By the time I reported back to Hare, half the troops were swearing that the woods had been crawling with enemy men.
Hare was frantic, cursing the Loire, our troops, myself, but he was not suspicious. What preoccupied him more than anything was the probable reaction of our Commandant when he returned.
"He must have seen it all!" he wailed.
"How, sir? I thought he was conferring with Ulysses in England?"
"He was, but he managed to get himself a posting on Hotspur. How do you think there was time for us to learn of Hotspur's mission? The Commandant undertook to provide a delay while Ulysses got a message to us."
"The Commandant was on Hotspur?" What amazed me was not that this should be so, for I did not doubt of Ulysses' ability to arrange it, but that Hare, knowing this, should have given the orders that he had. "Sir, have you wondered how he will react to nearly being blown up by the Loire?"
"The Commandant," said Hare, "would have been proud to lay down his life for Ireland."
That was possibly true, but I did not think he would have wished to lay it down in so utterly unnecessary a manner. On the other hand, that Hare had hoped to get him killed was all too believable. And no concern of mine. It did, however, seem like quite a good time to extract a bit more information.
"What about the Duc who sent the message to England, sir? Has he been arrested?"
Hare chewed his lip. "Now that's, er, rather an odd thing. Yes, a very odd thing, really. Turns out the man left for America two months ago, before the message was ever sent. Yes, very odd, because that, ah, has to mean another person sent it. I don't understand. No-one understands that at all."
I thought I might. "Then it was sent by someone using his name and knowing his contacts. Someone who was very anxious to use another's name."
"Another traitor you mean? Oh excellent, excellent. Should be possible to discover who! Yes, I'll pass that to Paris. They'll be pleased with me."
A witch-hunt nicely set in motion, all to divert suspicion from my real guess. A persecution of men who were innocent, though enemies. God, what was I becoming?
All in all, a very bad day. When I got out of Hare's office I was violently sick.