Upon returning to the deck Hayden found the sea and weather unchanged but for a noticeable hauling of the wind into the north-west. He welcomed the lengthening days of spring with a daily growing joy and sense of hopefulness, but on this date the long day was as much an enemy as the French. His only hope of escape was darkness. An almost irresistible urge to constantly scan the horizon had to be opposed. He could not count on rescue by British ships, though the fear of a fourth French ship appearing had to be constantly pressed down. To show confidence in such a situation was the captain’s duty but Hayden had never understood how difficult this would prove. There was little to be confident about. If this miserable gale moderated, the French ships might be carried up to him on a more favourable wind or his ship left wallowing. For the moment the gale was his ally.
There were so many possibilities of weather and ill luck that his head swam with them. And occasionally, unbidden, his troubles with Henrietta would surface and it was only with difficulty that he turned his mind away. It was a measure of how much this estrangement distressed him that even in his present danger his mind ever returned to Henrietta.
The ship’s bell sounded. Five and one half hours of daylight remained. If the heavy cloud persisted, twilight would be blessedly brief and neither starlight nor moonlight would penetrate down to the sea. They might be able to effect an escape under cover of darkness. Hayden turned back to the chasing ships, gauging their speed. For now he must keep the distance between them. If they closed to within a few hundred yards he might have no chance of escape.
Hayden spoke with the master’s mate, Dryden, and explained Mr Barthe’s condition and their present predicament in detail.
‘I have kept up Mr Barthe’s dead-reckoning, sir, taking into account tidal currents and leeway. I do not think I can be too far off our present position, though a landmark would be most welcome.’
‘There will be little chance of sighting land for some hours, depending upon what we do this night. If the wind continues to back we shall be forced south; rounding the corner of Brittany will then become a matter of the gravest concern. Seldom can we see beyond a league in this weather and we dare not come upon a lee shore with so little offing. It would be the end of us.’
Hayden went below with the master’s mate and looked over his chart, scrutinizing all his calculations, which appeared to have been done meticulously. The ‘cocked hat’ – the triangle within which Dryden placed the Themis – was larger than Hayden would have liked but he did not think their position could be calculated more narrowly. The important thing to remember was that their ship could be anywhere within that triangle and was probably not at the precise centre.
Upon the deck again, Hayden found himself gravitating to the stern rail, where the sight of the chasing ships was like a sore that one could not leave alone; one was drawn back to it again and again. A throat was cleared three paces off.
‘Ah, Mr Hawthorne,’ Hayden said, waving the marine lieutenant forward. ‘Is there some matter upon which you require my assistance?’
‘Not at all, sir, I was merely hoping for a better view of the French. Their uniforms are so stylish, do you not find?’
‘No more than your own, Mr Hawthorne.’
The marine came and stood beside his captain. Ransome approached at that moment and reported progress on several matters upon which Hayden had given him orders. He touched his hat with great respect and went off at a near trot.
‘Is it my imagination, Mr Hawthorne,’ Hayden wondered aloud, ‘or is Mr Ransome suddenly the most dutiful officer aboard my ship?’
‘So it would appear, sir. He has also been going to great lengths to cultivate Acting Lieutenant Wickham. And how better to impress young Wickham than by becoming as dutiful and conscientious as our young lord?’
‘I see, and impressing Mr Wickham will gain him what exactly?’
‘A cynical man might think it has somewhat to do with Mr Wickham’s two unmarried sisters, both reportedly handsome and amiable and certain to have sizeable sums settled upon them, I should think.’
‘Have we cynical men aboard this ship?’
‘I have been told there might be one or two.’
‘Do you think Mr Wickham is cognizant of Ransome’s design?’
‘He is a trusting young lad, sir, for all of his natural abilities as a sea officer.’
‘Yes, I am afraid you are right.’ Hayden considered this a moment. ‘Let us wait and see if Wickham does not work this out on his own.’
‘I agree, sir.’
‘You have heard about Mr Barthe, no doubt?’
‘I have been receiving hourly reports from Mr Wickham, who has been slipping down to look in on the sailing master whenever he is able.’
‘Now that is dutiful. The doctor believes it is only a sprain. Nothing life-threatening.’
‘If I were one of the cynical men rumoured aboard our ship I might think Mr Wickham’s concern for the sailing master had somewhat to do with Mr Barthe’s lovely daughters, or one in particular.’
Hayden looked sharply at Hawthorne, who stared out to sea. ‘I do hope you jest. The Marquis would never allow such a match.’
‘I am quite certain you are right, but a young man’s heart – not to mention his imagination – is very adept at sweeping aside any possible impediments to his suit.’
‘Well, that is a situation doomed to heartbreak and disappointed hopes. Is Mr Barthe aware of this attachment?’
‘I do not know if it is an attachment. Perhaps more of an infatuation, I should think. And as to Mr Barthe, I cannot say if he is cognizant of it. But could he even dream of a more advantageous match for one of his daughters? Even if Wickham were not from the family he is, certainly he would be a captain and very likely an admiral one day. His future is almost assured. For the daughter of a sailing master there could hardly be a better match.’
‘Mr Barthe should contemplate this matter a little more reasonably. He would realize that it can never be.’
‘In such matters, Captain, an old man’s heart – not to mention his fancy – is very adept at sweeping away any possible impediments to an advantageous match for his daughter.’ Hawthorne turned to look more directly at his captain. ‘Would you not wish Mr Wickham to be the suitor of your own daughter, should you have one?’
‘Indeed, I could think of no one better. How is it, Mr Hawthorne, that you are aware of all these goings on when the captain is not?’
‘The captain has greater matters requiring his attention – the safety of the ship and two hundred souls, foremost. You mind the souls, I shall see to the hearts.’
‘I believe we shall leave the souls to Mr Smosh. Now there is a man likely to grow an infatuation for one of Mr Barthe’s daughters. Has he met them?’
‘I do not believe so. And with all my great respect for our good priest I do not believe he should make as excellent a husband as he does a ship’s parson.’
‘Between us, I fear I must agree. I do not believe that Mr Smosh is cut out for the constancy of marriage.’ Hayden could not help but smile to hear the marine make such a statement. Hayden thought much the same of Hawthorne – a much better marine officer than husband and father.
‘I rather think we should keep him clear of Mr Barthe’s daughters, for the good of all concerned.’
‘Why, Mr Hawthorne, do I detect a note of protectiveness in your voice? Can it be that these young ladies have drawn out some noble instinct within you?’
‘The relations between the men aboard this ship are complicated enough. Allow romantic attachments to inflict themselves upon some of these gentlemen and … well, disappointed hopes, fortune-seeking, not to mention more ignoble behaviour, and you shall have such resentment and anger between your officers as no captain can heal.’
‘Mr Hawthorne, you never cease to surprise me.’
‘Thank you, sir. I take pride in it.’
‘And well you should.’
The two stood at the rail in companionable silence for a few moments.
‘How certain are we of finding our own cruisers lying off Brest?’ Hawthorne asked after a while.
‘They are there, or should be.’
‘Like the frigate that was supposed to be lying off Toulon warning British ships that the port was in French hands? Driven off by a gale not so very different from this, if I remember correctly.’
‘Not impossible, as you suggest, but this gale at least is not making the coast around Brest a lee shore. Any frigate under command of a determined officer should be able to stay on station.’
‘Then let us pray for determined officers. Captain.’ Hawthorne touched his hat respectfully and went off leaving Hayden alone at the rail. He raised his glass and quizzed the French ships again – was it his imagination or could he see them gaining measurably on his own ship?
The afternoon wore on, ships gaining then losing, wind hauling forward a point or two and then aft. All in all the weather almost seemed to be forcing the ship to round the point of Brittany and the not so distant island of Ushant. Although this would take him farther from England, the idea that the Themis might join forces with British frigates watching the harbour of Brest and turn the tables on the ships chasing him was some compensation. The idea of new prize money seemed a balm to all his trouble, especially since his prize agent would no doubt attempt to tie up any previous moneys the prize court saw fit to finally award him.
Hayden did, at that moment, wonder if he were becoming one of the avaricious sea officers he had so long despised, putting prize money before duty, but then decided that his orders had been to destroy the frigate sailing from Le Havre and the most likely course to accomplish that would be to join up with the frigates on station outside the roads at Brest. Once the French frigates had been taken he would sail with all speed for Plymouth and send his report to the Admiralty.
Immediately, he felt better.
The wind finally decided to do as the sailing master had earlier predicted and went into the north-east. Although this might allow Hayden to shape his course for the Irish station, he chose instead to use this wind to take him around Ushant and into Brest roads.
Late in the night, with the wind taking off and the sea going down, Hayden, Barthe, his mate Dryden and Lieutenant Archer all huddled over a chart showing the coast of Brittany and the waters through which they sailed. Where their ship lay upon this chart, however, was a matter of distressing uncertainty.
They had seen neither land nor sun for the last few days and the Channel was beset by tidal currents that could not be predicted with perfect reliability. They had also been set south to some unknown degree by the winds so that the distance to the coast of France was uncertain. When all the lines representing these factors had been pencilled upon the chart and allowances made for the possibility of error, not to mention the unknown, the area in which the Themis might be found was distressingly large. In fact, it included the north coast of the island of Ushant itself.
‘Well, Mr Barthe,’ Hayden observed, ‘as we are not upon the rocks I would assume we are not here.’ Hayden placed his finger upon the aforementioned outpost of France.
From above, the men heaving the lead and calling the depths could be heard through the deck planks.
‘If we are so near to Ushant,’ Archer offered thoughtfully, ‘then the French ships would be very foolish to try to pass inboard of us.’
‘If they believe they are in the same position we do,’ Hayden replied. ‘If they are certain we are more distant from the island – and these are their waters – then they might well sail inside us and try to prevent us from reaching Brest roads. I have no doubt that they have penetrated our plan.’
Wickham appeared at that moment, emerging from his watch below looking not the least refreshed. He joined the others gathered about the chart in the small circle of light offered by a swaying lantern. A glance at the chart was all he needed to understand the nature of the debate.
‘One would think this bloody island would have the decency to remain fixed in one place,’ Wickham said, ‘but I have known it to be several miles further out to sea than it had any right to be.’
‘They are a froward lot … islands,’ Dryden agreed.
Hayden looked around the circle of faces and found certainty nowhere. ‘Well, I see nothing for it. We must give Ushant a wide berth unless we catch sight of it as the weather lifts. If the French slip inboard of us then we will have no choice but to shape our course accordingly. I will not risk my ship and two hundred souls.’
It was an answer that pleased no one, for it placed them in an awkward position if the French could sail in between the Themis and the coast of France, but no one was willing to assert that they knew, unequivocally, the position of their ship.
‘We will hold this course until daylight, at which point, if we have not caught sight of Ushant, we will turn south, wind allowing.’
Heads nodded in agreement and both Archer and Barthe acknowledged the order by repeating it. The little gathering broke up and Hayden went up onto the deck with Wickham, who was about to begin his watch.
‘Daylight will find us soon enough,’ Wickham observed as they emerged into weather that had moderated a great deal in the past few hours.
‘Where are the Frenchmen?’ Hayden asked Ransome, who met them at the ladder head.
The young lieutenant pointed to lights some distance astern. ‘They show no signs of gaining or of altering their course to larboard, Captain.’
‘I suspect they are no more certain of their position than we,’ Hayden declared, undecided if he should take comfort from that idea or not.
‘The wind has taken off considerable, sir, and the sea is not so angry as it was. No bottom at fifty fathoms. Our course remains west by south.’ Ransome waved a hand at the sea. ‘I fear we might have a sea mist forming to the south, sir.’
Hayden almost brightened at this observation. ‘So we might hope, Mr Ransome.’
The sun’s rising was drowned in a blur of silvery fog and the wind died away to a whisper. The sea, which had diminished through the night with the dying wind, fell to a low, oily swell.
The pursuing ships were lost in the obscuring mists, yet there was no wind upon which the Themis could make good her escape. They were becalmed … somewhere.