IF OUR MIDNIGHT RIDE HAD SERVED TO ESCAPE VIDAL, OUR subsequent route gave him little chance to find us. Sometimes it seemed we must have lost even ourselves. Eschewing all but the rudest civilization, and going by roads which could rarely have seen a hoof, let alone a wheel, Lyell led us through the rough farmlands of eastern Pennsylvania. It is as well I never saw a map, or I would doubtless have despaired of our meandering course. Once, when I could see by the sun that we had spent almost a whole afternoon reversing the morning’s progress, I complained to Lyell, but he merely muttered something about tacking when the wind was against us. So it was with no small surprise that on the fifth day we came over a hill to see a well-built, elegant town on the slope of the valley opposite. It was by far the most substantial place I had seen since New York: its houses were for the most part of brick and stone, and its streets well paved. Several grand buildings hinted at some civic pre-eminence, while no fewer than seven spires bore witness to the inhabitants’ devotion. To me, after days of lone cabins and hamlets, it might almost have been London.
‘Lancaster,’ said Lyell, when I asked its name. ‘We will spend the night here.’
‘Surely we would do better to avoid it. So large a town on the westward road must be somewhere our enemies might watch.’ I did not like the discomfort and monotony of the country, but I liked the prospect of meeting with Vidal rather less.
‘There are reasons.’
Lyell spurred – or rather, prodded – his horse, and we continued into Lancaster. I had expected that the myriad churches might forebode a censorious town, but that was not the case: there must have been a dozen taverns for each church, every one of them thriving. To my surprise, Lyell ignored the more fashionable hostelries near the centre and instead brought us to a mean, crooked building near the outskirts of the town. The company within seemed to consist principally of labourers recently returned from the fields; though five days’ riding had left our clothes stained and worn, we were still the most agreeably dressed by some measure. Miss Lyell drew frank stares from all quarters as she entered, and I pressed closer to protect her.
Like most American taverns, privacy was not much on offer, but Lyell managed to find a corner where we could sit away from the common table. There was no wine, so we drank beer, and the landlord’s daughter brought a plate of bread and cheese which was wholly inadequate to my appetite. I gobbled down the supper, and was moving to seek an early bed when Lyell laid a hand on my arm.
‘Wait.’
He had taken a seat facing the door, and all through the meal his eyes had been darting over my shoulder towards it. I had thought he merely feared thieves, but it now struck me that he had an air of anticipation, waiting.
‘Are we expecting company?’
Lyell grunted, and pulled a box of cards from his coat. We played a few hands, though neither of us was concentrating: he watched the door, and I kept wishing we were not there. Miss Lyell won most often, blithely declaring herself blessed by fortune.
In fact, Lyell need not have troubled with such vigilance. When our visitor arrived he might as well have brought a butler to announce him, so plainly did he stand out in the rude company. Our attire had at least been coarsened by our travels; his was fit for a turn on Pall Mall. From the shining buckles on his shoes to the curls of his powdered wig, not one thread, stitch or button was out of place.
The room fell silent.
‘I guess he turned the wrong way for the palace,’ some wit in the crowd called out. There was widespread laughter, and a group near the stove broke into a chorus of ‘The Bonny Beau’.
The visitor straightened his posture and tipped back his head, though he could not keep his cheeks from flushing. Looking neither left nor right he progressed across to our table, and I slumped lower in my chair as I felt the collective gaze of the room turning on us. If Lyell had chosen this hole of a tavern to be inconspicuous, he had sadly misjudged it.
The new arrival took a chair and seated himself, wincing as he did so. All his refinements of manner could not mask the curse of piles. Close to, his features were as precisely measured as his suit; his bearing was stiff, though more from anxiety than pride, and his manner indefatigably correct. His tight-set mouth seemed capable of moving only at the corners. He gave the impression that the least demonstration of feeling would be a grievous personal betrayal.
‘This is Mr Merry,’ said Lyell, without apparent irony. ‘Britain’s ambassador to the United States.’
The sombre head seemed to incline a fraction, though it may have been the effect of a swinging lamp. ‘Minister plenipotentiary,’ Merry sniffed. ‘The King does not send ambassadors to lesser nations.’
The disdain in his voice was evident. If he was responsible for our diplomacy with America, it was no wonder our relations were in such parlous condition.
‘You choose an unusual place to meet, Mr Lyell,’ said Merry, his tone inflected with the merest hint of disapproval.
‘Unusual circumstances demand it. You are doubtless known to the better parts of society here; it would be better if they did not see us together. Besides, we have already survived two encounters with the damned Spaniards and I am keen to avoid their attentions.’
Merry permitted himself the merest hint of a smile. ‘The Spanish have not had all the run of the table. I have had word from General Beresford.’
‘Well?’
‘He and Commodore Popham have taken Buenos Aires. The Spanish are routed, and South America is open.’
Lyell thumped his fists on the table. ‘Thank God for that! And London? What do the fools in the Admiralty and Parliament make of this impromptu victory?’
‘I do not know. They would have received the news only weeks ago. Their views have not yet reached Washington.’
I could not contain my confusion. ‘What? Have we invaded South America?’
It was a rash question. Merry’s eyes immediately turned on me in suspicion, while Lyell fixed me with a quizzical gaze. Wilting under their stares, it was all I could do to remember Nevell’s advice. Do not be afraid to reveal your ignorance.
‘I – I came to this project late,’ I stammered. ‘There is a great deal I have not learned.’
‘So it would appear,’ Merry sniffed.
It was Lyell who unexpectedly aided me. ‘Sir Home Popham, acting under our direction but without orders from the weak-kneed fools in London, has taken his fleet and the Cape garrison and seized Buenos Aires.’ He turned back to Merry, his face bright with triumph. ‘Now it is out of the government’s hands. Our papers will declare for Popham, lionize him as the new Nelson; perhaps our friends at Lloyd’s will make a presentation from the Patriotic Fund. Grenville and Fox will have no choice but to allow it, and to reinforce our position. They cannot stop now until all of South America is freed from Spain, and opened to our commerce.’
I tried to keep from gaping. ‘You have used British troops to launch a private war for trade?’ It seemed more akin to piracy.
Thankfully, Lyell mistook my shock for admiration. ‘Our project is bigger than you suppose. Popham and his army have struck in the south; now it is left to us to deliver our part of the bargain in the north.’
I noticed Merry’s discomfiting eyes still watching me. ‘And what is your role in this?’
‘Lieutenant Jerrold is here to ensure that the navy play their part,’ said Lyell.
‘At your service,’ I mumbled, shrinking still further into my chair.
‘He carries dispatches for the colonel.’ Lyell turned to me. ‘It was Mr Merry who first brought this scheme to our attention, you know.’
‘I was not aware of that.’
‘Colonel Burr approached me in Washington. When he advised me of his plan I had no hesitation in recommending it to Whitehall. And when our ministers dismissed it, Mr Lyell and his confederates were prompt in seeing the possibilities.’ Merry had clasped his fingers together so tight that the knuckles were white as bone. ‘We will break this impertinent country, Mr Jerrold, we will break it.’
‘And make a handsome return on my investment, I hope,’ added Lyell.
‘Tell me, Lieutenant, how many ships have you brought?’
That halted me sharpish. I had been so busy trying to understand their talk of wild schemes to overthrow nations that I had not expected this direct, disastrous question. All I could think was to take a leaf from Nevell’s book.
‘That is confidential.’
Merry frowned. ‘Not to those who are party to the scheme, surely?’
I tapped my coat. ‘I have in this pocket secret dispatches which contain all the particulars. I will surrender it to the named addressee, and to no other man.’ I leaned forward earnestly, warming to my theme. ‘Why do you think I was recruited to this business so late? The government’s spies had collared Lieutenant Beauchamp, who was to have come in my place. I will not risk a similar fate by idle gossiping.’
It was a dangerous improvisation, but it seemed to suffice for Merry. He turned to Lyell. ‘I was not aware that our plans were so close to discovery in London.’
‘Grand schemes are never far from disaster – that is why Lieutenant Jerrold rightly insists on such secrecy. The present ministry are adept at reading private correspondence. They almost discovered the Buenos Aires expedition too soon, but Popham and Beresford outwitted them.’
Merry shifted on his seat in some discomfort. ‘I do not have your fortune, Lyell: if this goes ill for us and redounds on my career I will be ruined.’
‘Or hanged for treason.’ Lyell did not seem concerned by the prospect, though it left me quailing even more. ‘Nonetheless, we must confide in our precautions and put our faith in Colonel Burr.’
It seemed this was the dozenth time I had heard mention of this colonel – first by Mr Ogden in the New York churchyard, and now by Mr Merry and Lyell. Evidently, he was of some significance to their plans. I was not sure I wished to meet him, but if I was to uncover the secrets of this conspiracy I would have to learn something of him. As nonchalant as I could manage, I said, ‘I thought that Mr Tyler was arranging the American end of the business.’ Merry’s irritable gaze turned on me, and I held up my hands in innocence. ‘I left in haste, and received only the briefest instructions.’ So much was true – damn Nevell.
‘Mr Tyler has been our correspondent, so that no connection with Colonel Burr can be proved. But Tyler is merely Burr’s lieutenant. Burr is the true genius behind this scheme.’ Merry looked to Lyell. ‘Have you met him? He is a remarkable man, and animated by such a spirit of revenge against President Jefferson that he will never surrender his cause. I confess it is the attentions of our own government which concern me more.’
‘Put them out of your mind,’ said Lyell. ‘Even if they do guess our intentions, it is too late. And what could they do? Send some sapskull from the Secret Office to spy on us. By the time he had written his report to London the business would have been concluded.’
He reached under his coat and pulled out the pistol he had kept there since Princeton, just far enough that its blued barrel could be seen poking from the fabric.
‘And if we do come upon some agent of the government, we will certainly know how to dispose of him.’
I wondered if it was my addled imagination, or whether his gaze had rested on me a moment longer than was comfortable.