The Baroque Cycle - The Confusion Part 33

This meant several things. First of all, in spite of the fact that James Stuart had showed up, there must be someone competent still in charge and making information wash up and down the chain of command. Second, this man, Ascot, must be one of the agents who were supposed to carry the Bills of Exchange to London. Third, nothing was going to happen; for if Ascot and the other four agents were going to do it today, all five would have showed up at dawn, and they'd already be fanning out across the Channel in separate boats, each with a Bill of Exchange in his breast pocket.

"Time is drawing very short," Eliza remarked. "The Bills must be presented in London three days from now. They must be sent on their way this morning, or else I might as well tear them up."

"Yes, madame," said Ascot. "The King and Council are aware of it." He meant James Stuart and his claque. As if to emphasize this, he gazed out the window into Cherbourg. Somewhere in the town, on some church-steeple, there must be signalmen poised to raise flags as messages came in from the headquarters at La Hougue. "The fog is lifting!" he exclaimed. "When I was strolling on the upperdeck just now, madame, I was able to see one or two miles out into the Channel."

"And what did you observe, monsieur?"

"Boats coming in, madame."

"Under sail or-"

"No, for the wind is only just coming up. They are longboats, with sailors pulling l.u.s.tily at the oars. Some of them are towing a damaged s.h.i.+p-a big one."

"Do you think it might be the Soleil Royal Soleil Royal?"

"Quite possibly, madame. Or"-Ascot smiled-"perhaps what is left of Britannia Britannia."

This made Eliza dislike Ascot somehow; for he was after all an Englishman. He was straining visibly to say things he guessed she would like to hear; and his guesses were not very interesting. She was silent for a moment, out of sheer hopelessness. Into that silence Ascot put the words "On those longboats will be information, madame; the information that the King of England shall require to make his decision."

Eliza nodded as if she accepted this; but what she was thinking was, first, How could even a syphilitic be so insane as to phant'sy that the invasion might still happen How could even a syphilitic be so insane as to phant'sy that the invasion might still happen and, second, and, second, If he doesn't cancel it soon I shall have a grave problem on my hands If he doesn't cancel it soon I shall have a grave problem on my hands. She glanced involuntarily at the cabin windows, and the three closed shutters. They'd been visible from Cherbourg for at least half an hour now. Things were in motion that she could no longer control.

For a minute or two it had been possible to hear shouting abovedecks, which aboard s.h.i.+p was a wholly usual thing; more so when longboats were coming in from the Channel bearing news. Eliza had paid no attention to it. Now, though, they heard a thunking splash. A man, or something as big as a man, going overboard.

"Madame, I beg your leave to investigate-" began Ascot.

"Go, go!" said Eliza in English; which startled Ascot so much that he reverted to it as he opened the cabin door.

"I can't imagine what this is all about-what on earth-"

Eliza followed him out the hatch into a dark and somewhat cluttered s.p.a.ce sheltered beneath the p.o.o.p deck. But in a few strides they had emerged onto the open upperdeck of Meteore Meteore. From here they enjoyed a clear view forward, which meant, out of the harbor and into the waters of the Channel. As Ascot had mentioned, many longboats were coming in. Too Too many, to Eliza's suspicious eye; for how many were really needed, to carry a few bits of news? Bright patches shone out here and there in the fog on the Channel: sunlight illuminating squares of canvas that had been strung up to catch the freshening breeze. many, to Eliza's suspicious eye; for how many were really needed, to carry a few bits of news? Bright patches shone out here and there in the fog on the Channel: sunlight illuminating squares of canvas that had been strung up to catch the freshening breeze.

As Ascot had mentioned, one one s.h.i.+p-a big one-was a good deal closer. It was not so much being towed by longboats as being washed into the harbor by the tide. It had somehow caught a sunbeam that had pierced a loop-hole in the fog. Or so Eliza thought when she first caught sight of it out the corner of her eye. When she looked at it full on, though, she realized it was making its own light. It was burning. It was, or had been, s.h.i.+p-a big one-was a good deal closer. It was not so much being towed by longboats as being washed into the harbor by the tide. It had somehow caught a sunbeam that had pierced a loop-hole in the fog. Or so Eliza thought when she first caught sight of it out the corner of her eye. When she looked at it full on, though, she realized it was making its own light. It was burning. It was, or had been, Soleil Royal Soleil Royal.

Her attention was diverted by another thunk-splash, thunk-splash, then another. It could no longer be denied that men were jumping off the s.h.i.+p. then another. It could no longer be denied that men were jumping off the s.h.i.+p.

Several of the sailors on the upperdeck were men she had never laid eyes on before. And to judge from the curious way they were gazing about, they were new to Meteore Meteore.

Just ahead of them a man vaulted over the upperdeck railing on to on to the s.h.i.+p. This was the s.h.i.+p. This was not not supposed to happen. There was nothing supposed to happen. There was nothing out there out there-it was like a stranger jumping into a second-storey window.

"I say!" exclaimed Ascot, still stuck in English. "I do do say!" say!"

The newcomer turned to face Ascot. His answer was as follows: "f.u.c.king wh.o.r.eson Jacobite traitor!" He was raising one arm as he delivered this remark, and punctuated the sentence by turning Ascot's head into a pink spout. The thing in his hand was a blunderbuss.

Eliza went back into the dark s.p.a.ce beneath the p.o.o.p deck and began pulling doors open. The doors led to cabins where Brigitte, Nicole, and a maidservant were lodged. "Into my cabin now now, no questions!"

She got them all into the big cabin: four women in all. Brigitte was of a mind to heave furniture against the door. But that did not work as well here as it would have ash.o.r.e, since the significant furniture was bolted down. Some trunks, a chair, and a mattress were all that they could s.h.i.+ft for in the way of a barricade. Eliza urged them all to bend their efforts to this task, even though she knew it was absurd. A glance out the windows told her that Meteore Meteore was moving. The English had cut her anchor cable, made her fast to a longboat or two, and were towing her out into the Channel. Better for them to attend to barricade-making than to think too hard about what this portended. was moving. The English had cut her anchor cable, made her fast to a longboat or two, and were towing her out into the Channel. Better for them to attend to barricade-making than to think too hard about what this portended.

A most unsettling noise radiated through the air all round, and made their breakfasts quiver in their stomachs. Eliza went to a window and saw one of Cherbourg's sh.o.r.e-batteries obnubilated by powder-smoke. The artillerymen had opened fire; she guessed they were hoping to sink Soleil Royal Soleil Royal before she drifted into the anchorage and set fire to other s.h.i.+ps, or exploded. She explained as much to her companions. Fortunately none of them was swift enough to ask how long it might be before the same batteries opened up on before she drifted into the anchorage and set fire to other s.h.i.+ps, or exploded. She explained as much to her companions. Fortunately none of them was swift enough to ask how long it might be before the same batteries opened up on Meteore Meteore.

They had been ignored, for a time, by those who had taken the s.h.i.+p-which made perfect sense once Eliza understood that their intention was to take the entire vessel. But now that Meteore Meteore was under way, albeit slowly, English marines had begun to pound desultorily on the door of the cabin. Hammers and prybars were mined from tool-lockers. Splinters began to fly out of was under way, albeit slowly, English marines had begun to pound desultorily on the door of the cabin. Hammers and prybars were mined from tool-lockers. Splinters began to fly out of the wall the wall-rather than waste effort on the barricaded door, they were simply smas.h.i.+ng their way through a bulkhead.

Such was the noise that Eliza might almost have overlooked the sudden arrival of the immense one-armed man in her cabin. Almost; Almost; for he entered through a window, swinging in on the end of a rope, and a chunk of gla.s.s. .h.i.t her in the ear. And the maidservant must have seen him hurtling toward the gla.s.s, for she began screaming an instant before the implosion, and kept it up for a few moments after; long enough for the intruder to catch her about the waist by his one proper arm, pick her up, and throw her out of the s.h.i.+p. In the end, the scream was terminated only by her impact with the water. A few seconds later it resumed, sounding a bit gurgly. The large man had big pale blue eyes and seemed distracted; so much to take in, so many things to do. He looked around the cabin, making a quick count of the number of women who had not yet been thrown out (three). He turned and looked back at the ruined window. It was partly blocked by a skein of crazed gla.s.s, shredded wood, and caulking, which had complicated the defenestration of the maidservant. The man shrugged and one of his arms tripled in length. For it had been severed below the elbow and replaced with a three-part flail, segments made of some sort of dark, heavy-looking wood, bound and capped with iron, and joined one to the next by short segments of chain. He turned toward the window, judged the distance, and went into a curious shrugging and s.h.i.+vering movement that propagated down the length of the flail and sent its distal segment ripping through what was left of the window-frame like chainshot launched from a cannon. That and a few kicks sufficed to make a clean rectangular aperture through which he presently hurled a screaming Nicole. for he entered through a window, swinging in on the end of a rope, and a chunk of gla.s.s. .h.i.t her in the ear. And the maidservant must have seen him hurtling toward the gla.s.s, for she began screaming an instant before the implosion, and kept it up for a few moments after; long enough for the intruder to catch her about the waist by his one proper arm, pick her up, and throw her out of the s.h.i.+p. In the end, the scream was terminated only by her impact with the water. A few seconds later it resumed, sounding a bit gurgly. The large man had big pale blue eyes and seemed distracted; so much to take in, so many things to do. He looked around the cabin, making a quick count of the number of women who had not yet been thrown out (three). He turned and looked back at the ruined window. It was partly blocked by a skein of crazed gla.s.s, shredded wood, and caulking, which had complicated the defenestration of the maidservant. The man shrugged and one of his arms tripled in length. For it had been severed below the elbow and replaced with a three-part flail, segments made of some sort of dark, heavy-looking wood, bound and capped with iron, and joined one to the next by short segments of chain. He turned toward the window, judged the distance, and went into a curious shrugging and s.h.i.+vering movement that propagated down the length of the flail and sent its distal segment ripping through what was left of the window-frame like chainshot launched from a cannon. That and a few kicks sufficed to make a clean rectangular aperture through which he presently hurled a screaming Nicole.

Before he could pursue this wench-flinging project any further, he was distracted by the rude irruption into the cabin of a man's arm. The English boarders had made a hole, and one of them was reaching in to see what he might grab. At the top of his list was the bra.s.s bolt holding the cabin door closed.

The ramshackle and skeletal arm of the flail rattled across the cabin, a strangely unfolding train of dire consequences, and struck the new intruder round about the elbow with a splintery sort of noise. The arm was withdrawn, leaving a dark cavity through which the one-armed man flung a dagger that had appeared in his hand from nowhere. "Shoot him!" someone screamed, from the other side of the bulkhead; but Brigitte had the presence of mind to topple Eliza's mattress-which had been propped against the cabin door-so that it obscured the rift in the bulkhead. The men on the other side could reach through the hole and thrust it away, but it only flopped back again; which, if Eliza had had more time for reflection, she might have taken as some sort of lesson in how soft defenses could be more effective than hard ones.

Eliza had gone to the missing window. Below was a two-oared skiff. A line ran from it straight up to a grapple snared in the rigging of Meteore' Meteore's mizzen-mast, above; this was how the one-armed man had gotten aboard, though, being one-armed, it seemed he had had to make use of some ingenious block-and-tackle arrangement, much too complicated for Eliza to work out under these circ.u.mstances.

The two women who had been flung out earlier were bobbing like lilies on the water, for their skirts had inflated as they had dropped. Eventually they would become waterlogged and sink, but they had both got hold of the little boat's gunwale and seemed fine for now. Which was the very least that Eliza looked for, from her personal staff. Indeed she made a mental note to ask this question of all prospective employees she interviewed in future: You are on your mistress's jacht jacht preparing for her preparing for her pet.i.t levee pet.i.t levee when the vessel is taken by English marines and towed out to sea under fire from sh.o.r.e batteries. Barricaded in a cabin, waiting for a fate worse than death, you are picked up and hurled into the sea by a mysterious one-armed giant who has swung into a window on a rope. Do you (a) struggle bootlessly until you sink and drown, (b) scream until someone rescues you, or (c) dog-paddle to the nearest floating object and wait calmly for your mistress to resolve the difficulty? when the vessel is taken by English marines and towed out to sea under fire from sh.o.r.e batteries. Barricaded in a cabin, waiting for a fate worse than death, you are picked up and hurled into the sea by a mysterious one-armed giant who has swung into a window on a rope. Do you (a) struggle bootlessly until you sink and drown, (b) scream until someone rescues you, or (c) dog-paddle to the nearest floating object and wait calmly for your mistress to resolve the difficulty?

Eliza had suspected very early that the one-armed man might be some sort of a G.o.dsend, and was now convinced of it. She hitched up her skirt, snaked a leg under her bed, caught her bag-handle on the point of her slipper, and jerked it out. Turning to the open window, she paused for a few moments to time her breathing, and the rolling of the seas; then she tossed out the bag, and it landed square in the middle of the rowboat. Then she turned around. Flail-arm, it seemed, had fastened his gaze upon Brigitte with a look that seemed to say, "I mean to throw you you out next, mademoiselle," and she had declined the honor. Now he was trying to get one arm about her waist (a fact.i.tious narrowing of Brigitte's midsection, owed to laces and whalebones). Few men were big, strong, and reckless enough to pick up Brigitte and toss her, when she was not of a mind to be. This fellow out next, mademoiselle," and she had declined the honor. Now he was trying to get one arm about her waist (a fact.i.tious narrowing of Brigitte's midsection, owed to laces and whalebones). Few men were big, strong, and reckless enough to pick up Brigitte and toss her, when she was not of a mind to be. This fellow had been had been, prior to the loss of his arm. As matters stood, they were evenly matched, unless he elected to beat her senseless with the terrible flail first. And this he was not of a mind to do; though he was plainly enough tempted, Eliza thought she could see a tenderness about his eyes. And so a dire, ungainly, loud struggle, destructive of property and of the dignity of the partic.i.p.ants, ranged all across the cabin.

"Brigitte!" Eliza called, at a moment when the one-armed man had tripped over his flail and was slow getting up. Brigitte raised her hot gaze from the intruder and looked up to see Eliza framed in the window. "You may stay and flirt with him all you want, or take him to bed for all I care! But I am departing and shall await you below." And then she vanished from Brigitte's sight.

In spite of herself she let out a yell just before she hit the water. Then she was speechless for a moment, it was so cold; but before more than a few moments had pa.s.sed, she began paddling toward the wee boat, as best she could. She did this partly out of a thought to the Interview Question, and partly out of fear that Brigitte and Monsieur Flail-arm might hurtle down atop her at any moment. Heavy splashes behind her confirmed that she'd made the correct choice.

To get four sopping femmes femmes aboard so small a boat was no simple thing. Flail-arm, as soon as he'd gone into the water, had prestidigitated another sharp object and severed the line linking the rowboat to aboard so small a boat was no simple thing. Flail-arm, as soon as he'd gone into the water, had prestidigitated another sharp object and severed the line linking the rowboat to Meteore, Meteore, and the gap between them had begun to widen. Eliza glanced up at her stolen and the gap between them had begun to widen. Eliza glanced up at her stolen jacht jacht only once. She saw English marines at the p.o.o.p-deck rail, and English marines in the windows of her cabin (for they had finally got past Brigitte's improvisations). One of them had the bad manners to aim a pistol down at Flail-arm. But just then a boom sounded from not far away, and something whined over their heads and ripped two pounds of oak out of the railing. The marines jumped back, and some flung themselves to the deck. Eliza followed Flail-arm's startled gaze across the water and spied a boat coming on rapidly, under full sail. only once. She saw English marines at the p.o.o.p-deck rail, and English marines in the windows of her cabin (for they had finally got past Brigitte's improvisations). One of them had the bad manners to aim a pistol down at Flail-arm. But just then a boom sounded from not far away, and something whined over their heads and ripped two pounds of oak out of the railing. The marines jumped back, and some flung themselves to the deck. Eliza followed Flail-arm's startled gaze across the water and spied a boat coming on rapidly, under full sail.

Eliza was no great aficionado of s.h.i.+p-types, and made a practice of quitting any conversation in which the men drifted off into, and got stuck on, s.h.i.+p-prattle. But at a glance she guessed this one was eighty feet long. It had no transom and no superstructure, had two masts, was lug-rigged. In Holland it might have gone under the name of galjoot galjoot. In any case, it was a coastal trading-s.h.i.+p, adequate to cross the Channel, and it was obviously armed with at least one swivel-gun. The shot they had fired at the English marines had been mostly for effect. Never could this little smuggler's craft have challenged Meteore Meteore, had Meteore Meteore been under sail, and properly manned; but as matters stood, the been under sail, and properly manned; but as matters stood, the galjoot galjoot had enough sting in her swivel-guns to give the English second thoughts about standing in plain view and taking pot-shots at Men Overboard. Eliza had spied the boat a few minutes ago, and hoped it might be the one she had hired; this confirmed as much. It made no effort to pursue had enough sting in her swivel-guns to give the English second thoughts about standing in plain view and taking pot-shots at Men Overboard. Eliza had spied the boat a few minutes ago, and hoped it might be the one she had hired; this confirmed as much. It made no effort to pursue Meteore, Meteore, but wore around so as to make itself a barrier between but wore around so as to make itself a barrier between Meteore Meteore and the rowboat, and then released the air from its sails. and the rowboat, and then released the air from its sails. Arbalete Arbalete (for that was the name painted on her bows) approached with a curious mixture of charity and hostility, on the one hand flinging out lines for the ladies to s.n.a.t.c.h from the air, or rake up out of the water, on the other hand keeping loaded muskets at the ready. The only part of this morning's proceedings that they had been led to expect was that they might be collecting an anonymous pa.s.senger from the vicinity of (for that was the name painted on her bows) approached with a curious mixture of charity and hostility, on the one hand flinging out lines for the ladies to s.n.a.t.c.h from the air, or rake up out of the water, on the other hand keeping loaded muskets at the ready. The only part of this morning's proceedings that they had been led to expect was that they might be collecting an anonymous pa.s.senger from the vicinity of Meteore Meteore. All else-the a.s.sault of the English longboats, the apparition of the flaming Soleil Royal, Soleil Royal, and Flail-arm with his rowboat-had been unexpected. Eliza was already dreading the re-negotiation of the deal that probably lay ahead with the captain of and Flail-arm with his rowboat-had been unexpected. Eliza was already dreading the re-negotiation of the deal that probably lay ahead with the captain of Arbalete Arbalete. That it had even ventured this this far into the melee could probably be attributed solely to a bloke standing amids.h.i.+ps holding a musket: Bob Shaftoe. far into the melee could probably be attributed solely to a bloke standing amids.h.i.+ps holding a musket: Bob Shaftoe.

"All is well, Sergeant Bob. No, I don't know who he is. He is a mute, or something. But he seems well-intentioned. The worst I can say of him is that he is more forthright in his methods than would be considered proper at Versailles."

"I have noted him about the waterfront, spying on Meteore, Meteore," was Bob's answer.

"Come to mention it, so have I," said Eliza, "but lacking your penetration, sir, I could not make out whether he was spying, spying, or merely satisfying his curiosity." or merely satisfying his curiosity."

"Perhaps lovely d.u.c.h.esses are more accustomed to being stared at for hours at a time than mangled Sergeants," Bob said. "To me it looked like spying."

"As perhaps it was, Sergeant Bob; but this morning he has been of service to a boat-load of women."

"Is it to be you alone, or the entire boat-load?" demanded the incredulous Monsieur Rigaud, Captain of Arbalete Arbalete. Until this point, he had been preoccupied by the spectre-even more terrifying to a s.h.i.+p-captain than to any other sort of person-of the Soleil Royal Soleil Royal drifting past them with gouts of flame spurting from her hundred gun-ports. Rigaud seemed at last to have convinced himself that the English, before setting fire to her, had extracted her stores of gunpowder-i.e., that they wanted her to burn for a long time, make a memorable spectacle for the citizenry of Cherbourg, and perhaps set fire to a few other s.h.i.+ps-not simply blow up. If he was right, then the danger to drifting past them with gouts of flame spurting from her hundred gun-ports. Rigaud seemed at last to have convinced himself that the English, before setting fire to her, had extracted her stores of gunpowder-i.e., that they wanted her to burn for a long time, make a memorable spectacle for the citizenry of Cherbourg, and perhaps set fire to a few other s.h.i.+ps-not simply blow up. If he was right, then the danger to Arbalete Arbalete was past, for the flags.h.i.+p had unequivocally drifted beyond them. He had, accordingly, turned his mind to a threat almost as dire: an onslaught of female pa.s.sengers. was past, for the flags.h.i.+p had unequivocally drifted beyond them. He had, accordingly, turned his mind to a threat almost as dire: an onslaught of female pa.s.sengers.

"Only I," said Eliza, and slung her bag at Rigaud's head.

This was news to the other women, and caused a little flurry of gasps and outcries. Eliza considered trying to explain matters. Mommy must run off to England and steal three tons of silver Mommy must run off to England and steal three tons of silver. Instead she reached up-for the rowboat was grinding against Arbalete's Arbalete's side-and let Bob seize one of her hands, and a French sailor the other. The weight came off of her feet. She was hoisted aboard side-and let Bob seize one of her hands, and a French sailor the other. The weight came off of her feet. She was hoisted aboard Arbalete Arbalete like a bale of silk. "Lovely Brigitte," she called, "I hope that one day you will forgive me for now pressing you in to service as like a bale of silk. "Lovely Brigitte," she called, "I hope that one day you will forgive me for now pressing you in to service as galerienne galerienne. But you must get in to sh.o.r.e before matters get any worse; and this man, I am afraid-"

"Rows in circles. The same had occurred to me, my lady." Brigitte seized the oars.

"We shall keep our swivel-guns charged, and watch you in to the sh.o.r.e," volunteered Monsieur Rigaud, who had become considerably more pliant now that the rowboat full of women was working away away from from Arbalete Arbalete.

"Send a despatch to Captain Bart in Dunkerque," Eliza called.

"Saying what, Madame?"

"That it is going to happen after all."

"AMPUTATIONS ARE DICEY THINGS," remarked Bob Shaftoe some hours later. For a while, he had had that look on his face that warned Eliza he was pondering something, and likely to blurt out just such a ghoulish observation as soon as he took a whim to speak. "One strives to preserve the elbow, or the knee, at all costs, for that additional degree of articulation in the stump makes all the difference. In a below-the-elbow amputation, the hand is gone, and with it the ability to sense, to grasp, to caress. But yet there is the elbow, and the sinews to make it act. To turn the arm into a flail-a whole train of articulations, unfeeling, ungrasping, yet capable of action-yes, to put a flail on a stump is wholly fitting in a way." remarked Bob Shaftoe some hours later. For a while, he had had that look on his face that warned Eliza he was pondering something, and likely to blurt out just such a ghoulish observation as soon as he took a whim to speak. "One strives to preserve the elbow, or the knee, at all costs, for that additional degree of articulation in the stump makes all the difference. In a below-the-elbow amputation, the hand is gone, and with it the ability to sense, to grasp, to caress. But yet there is the elbow, and the sinews to make it act. To turn the arm into a flail-a whole train of articulations, unfeeling, ungrasping, yet capable of action-yes, to put a flail on a stump is wholly fitting in a way."

"Remind me to ask you later for your thoughts on disembowelment," said Eliza, then regretted it, for she was already queasy. They were out on the Channel now, the wind had come up, and she was robed, hooded, and swaddled in blankets like a woman out of a desert land-a very cold desert land.

Bob squinted at her. "I've had any number of such thoughts this morning, and have held them back from you." He was alluding to the scenes that they had all beheld from the deck of Arbalete Arbalete as they had sailed east-northeast along the tip of the Cotentin-that stump of an arm that France thrust out toward England. For the first hour or so, their view had been of Cherbourg, and of the waters north of it, which had gradually been unveiled as the last traces of the four-day fog had dissolved into plain air. A goodly part of the Anglo-Dutch fleet was there. The burning of as they had sailed east-northeast along the tip of the Cotentin-that stump of an arm that France thrust out toward England. For the first hour or so, their view had been of Cherbourg, and of the waters north of it, which had gradually been unveiled as the last traces of the four-day fog had dissolved into plain air. A goodly part of the Anglo-Dutch fleet was there. The burning of Soleil Royal Soleil Royal and the invasion of Cherbourg Harbor by longboats were only aspects of a larger action, which they came better to understand as they drew back from it. The English and Dutch had cut a few s.h.i.+ps from the French fleet and were going about the tedious and ungallant work of mopping them up: trying to get enough cannonb.a.l.l.s into their hulls to sink or ruin them before they could scurry in under the protection of the sh.o.r.e batteries. By the time that Cherbourg had receded from and the invasion of Cherbourg Harbor by longboats were only aspects of a larger action, which they came better to understand as they drew back from it. The English and Dutch had cut a few s.h.i.+ps from the French fleet and were going about the tedious and ungallant work of mopping them up: trying to get enough cannonb.a.l.l.s into their hulls to sink or ruin them before they could scurry in under the protection of the sh.o.r.e batteries. By the time that Cherbourg had receded from Arbalete Arbalete's view, that issue was no longer in much doubt: This remnant of the French fleet, if it reached Cherbourg at all, would never sail again. Not long after, Arbalete Arbalete had rounded the Point of Barfleur, which had brought them in view of a vast bay, fifteen miles broad and five deep, pressed like a thumbprint into the eastern side of the Cotentin. It was there, in the shelter of the peninsula, that the bulk of the invasion-transports had gathered to receive soldiers and materiel from the great camps around La Hougue. And it was there, they now discovered, that Admiral Tourville had sought refuge with perhaps two dozen of his s.h.i.+ps. Now that the fog had lifted, the bulk of the Anglo-Dutch fleet had formed up off La Hougue and were boring in to finish Tourville off; and since the anchorage proper was protected by sh.o.r.e batteries, this meant longboat-work again. What had happened to had rounded the Point of Barfleur, which had brought them in view of a vast bay, fifteen miles broad and five deep, pressed like a thumbprint into the eastern side of the Cotentin. It was there, in the shelter of the peninsula, that the bulk of the invasion-transports had gathered to receive soldiers and materiel from the great camps around La Hougue. And it was there, they now discovered, that Admiral Tourville had sought refuge with perhaps two dozen of his s.h.i.+ps. Now that the fog had lifted, the bulk of the Anglo-Dutch fleet had formed up off La Hougue and were boring in to finish Tourville off; and since the anchorage proper was protected by sh.o.r.e batteries, this meant longboat-work again. What had happened to Meteore Meteore this morning was, in other words, to be the pattern for what would be done to Tourville's fleet today. Eliza, though she knew little of Naval tactics, could see the logic of it as plainly as if it had been writ out on a page by Leibniz: The English could bring their s.h.i.+ps no nearer sh.o.r.e than a certain point because of the sh.o.r.e-batteries. Tourville could not sail what was left of the French fleet-now outnumbered three or four to one-out of the anchorage. And so there was a no-man's-land between the English and French, which soon developed a dark infestation of longboats issuing from all the Anglo-Dutch s.h.i.+ps. Unable to maneuver or even to weigh anchor in the jammed anchorage, the crews of the French s.h.i.+ps could only stand on the decks and wait to repel boarders. this morning was, in other words, to be the pattern for what would be done to Tourville's fleet today. Eliza, though she knew little of Naval tactics, could see the logic of it as plainly as if it had been writ out on a page by Leibniz: The English could bring their s.h.i.+ps no nearer sh.o.r.e than a certain point because of the sh.o.r.e-batteries. Tourville could not sail what was left of the French fleet-now outnumbered three or four to one-out of the anchorage. And so there was a no-man's-land between the English and French, which soon developed a dark infestation of longboats issuing from all the Anglo-Dutch s.h.i.+ps. Unable to maneuver or even to weigh anchor in the jammed anchorage, the crews of the French s.h.i.+ps could only stand on the decks and wait to repel boarders.

Arbalete, which under these circ.u.mstances could be overlooked as an insignificant smuggler's boat, now made her course due north, threaded her way between a pair of laggardly English men-of-war, and began a sprint for Portsmouth. Before the anchorage of La Hougue was lost to view astern, they noted a spark of light drifting out of it, trying to catch up with its own column of smoke. The burning of the French fleet had begun. Those aboard Arbalete Arbalete could at least turn their backs on the scene, and run away from it. Not so fortunate, as Eliza knew, was James Stuart, who was camped in a royal tent on a hill above La Hougue. He'd have to watch the whole thing. For all that she despised the man and his reign, Eliza couldn't but feel sorry for him: chased out of England once in girl's clothes, during the Commonwealth, and a second time with a b.l.o.o.d.y nose during the Glorious Revolution; loser of the Battle of the Boyne; chased out of Ireland; and now this. It was while she was mulling over these cheerful matters that Bob Shaftoe unexpectedly piped up with his ruminations on the topic of stumps; which gives a fair portrait of the mood aboard could at least turn their backs on the scene, and run away from it. Not so fortunate, as Eliza knew, was James Stuart, who was camped in a royal tent on a hill above La Hougue. He'd have to watch the whole thing. For all that she despised the man and his reign, Eliza couldn't but feel sorry for him: chased out of England once in girl's clothes, during the Commonwealth, and a second time with a b.l.o.o.d.y nose during the Glorious Revolution; loser of the Battle of the Boyne; chased out of Ireland; and now this. It was while she was mulling over these cheerful matters that Bob Shaftoe unexpectedly piped up with his ruminations on the topic of stumps; which gives a fair portrait of the mood aboard Arbalete Arbalete during her pa.s.sage to England. during her pa.s.sage to England.

"I HAVE SEEN HAVE SEEN altogether too many men in my day, living as I have in Vagabond-camps and Regimental quarters. And so it could be that my memory has been overfilled and is now playing tricks on me. But I think that I have seen that man before," Bob said. altogether too many men in my day, living as I have in Vagabond-camps and Regimental quarters. And so it could be that my memory has been overfilled and is now playing tricks on me. But I think that I have seen that man before," Bob said.

"Flail-arm? You mentioned you'd noticed him in Cherbourg, spying or gawking."

"Aye, but even the first first time I saw him there, I phant'sied I'd seen his face elsewhere." time I saw him there, I phant'sied I'd seen his face elsewhere."

"If he was spying on me there, perhaps he had been doing the same in St.-Malo, and you'd noticed him on one of your visits," said Eliza, and was immediately sorry that she had raised this topic; for her bowels were in an uproar, she'd spent more time at the head than all others on the boat summed, and Bob had conspicuously refrained from saying anything about it, but only squinted at her knowingly. It was late afternoon. The sun was slicing down across the northwestern sky, making England into a rubble of black lumps in the foreground, and casting golden light on Bob's face.

"I phant'sied I'd make the return voyage, you know."

"You mean, back to Normandy tomorrow? But are you not absent without leave from your Irish regiment? Would you not be flogged for it, or something?"

"I got leave, on a pretext. It is still not too late."

"But it sounds as though you are having second thoughts."

"The closer we draw to England, the better she suits me. I went to France for diverse reasons, none of which have turned out to be any good."

"You hoped it would bring you within reach of Abigail."

"Aye. But instead I was marooned in Brest nigh on half a year, then Cherbourg for three months. And so serving France has brought me no nearer to Paris than if I'd been posted in London. Who knows where they'll have us go next?"

"If what I have heard means anything," Eliza said, "the fighting will be very hot in the Spanish Netherlands this summer. They are probably laying siege to Namur as we speak. That is most likely where Count Sheerness is-"

"And so probably Abigail as well," said Bob, "for if he means to spend the whole summer in those parts, he has brought his household with him. Very well. My most expedient way of reaching that part of the world shall be to re-join the Black Torrent Guards and be s.h.i.+pped thither at King William's expense."

"Don't you suppose your nine months' absence will have been noted? What kind of flogging will they award you for that that!?"

"I was conducting military espionage in the enemy camp for the Earl of Marlborough," Bob retorted; though the look on his face, and the lilt in his voice, suggested that this had only just come into his head.

"The Earl of Marlborough has been dismissed from all offices, stripped of command. His colonelcy of the Black Torrent Guards will have been sold off to some Tory hack."

"But nine months ago when my mission of espionage began, none of that was true."

"Your idea still seems risky to me," said Eliza, eager to draw the exchange to a curt finish because the rioting had started up in her belly once more.

"Then I shall test the waters first, with Marlborough, before presenting myself to the Regiment," Bob said. "You're going to London! I don't suppose you'd be willing to bring him a private note from me-?"

"Since you cannot read or write, I suppose you'd like me to pen pen the note as well?" said Eliza, and turned her back on Bob, the better to search for a convenient scupper. She did not feel as though she would have time to trudge all the way to the head; besides which, a French sailor was already sitting up there, taking a lengthy s.h.i.+t into the English Channel and singing. the note as well?" said Eliza, and turned her back on Bob, the better to search for a convenient scupper. She did not feel as though she would have time to trudge all the way to the head; besides which, a French sailor was already sitting up there, taking a lengthy s.h.i.+t into the English Channel and singing.

"Your offer is well received," Bob returned. "And as I am unfit to frame a proper letter to an Earl, perhaps I could interest you in composing composing it as well-?" it as well-?"

"I'll just talk talk to him," said Eliza, dropping to her hands and knees. The next thing that emerged from her mouth, however, was altogether unfit for presentation to an Earl; a fact Bob was discreet enough not to point out. to him," said Eliza, dropping to her hands and knees. The next thing that emerged from her mouth, however, was altogether unfit for presentation to an Earl; a fact Bob was discreet enough not to point out.

London 4 JUNE (N.S.)/25 MAY (O.S.), 1692.

Where men build on false grounds, the more they build, the greater is the ruin.-HOBBES, Leviathan ELIZA FRETTED, AND BELABORED HERSELF for being too late and too little organized, until the moment that she gazed out the carriage window and saw the waters of the Thames below her, all crammed with s.h.i.+pping. This was too strange to believe for a moment. Then it came to her that this street must be London Bridge, and the carriage must be traversing one of the firebreaks, where it was possible to get a view. The sight of the River triggered a curious reversal in her mood. It was midafternoon of the day nominated, by the French and most of the rest of Christendom, June 4th, and by the English May 25th. Whichever calendar was used, the fact of the matter was that the Bills of Exchange would not expire until the end of the day for being too late and too little organized, until the moment that she gazed out the carriage window and saw the waters of the Thames below her, all crammed with s.h.i.+pping. This was too strange to believe for a moment. Then it came to her that this street must be London Bridge, and the carriage must be traversing one of the firebreaks, where it was possible to get a view. The sight of the River triggered a curious reversal in her mood. It was midafternoon of the day nominated, by the French and most of the rest of Christendom, June 4th, and by the English May 25th. Whichever calendar was used, the fact of the matter was that the Bills of Exchange would not expire until the end of the day tomorrow; tomorrow; she had, in other words, reached London with more than twenty-four hours to spare. This in spite of the fact that for the last week-since the day that Tourville had a.s.saulted Russell in the Channel, and the fog had closed in-she had been certain she was too late and that the entire enterprise was doomed. From that moment until this, London had seemed infinitely far away, and impossible to reach. Now, having reached it, she wondered what all the fuss had been about. For London was after all a great city and people went there all the time-the number of masts thrust into the air above the Pool spoke to this. Perhaps Eliza had nursed an exaggerated view of its remoteness because of the difficulty she'd had in escaping to it almost three years ago, when her s.h.i.+p had been waylaid by Jean Bart. she had, in other words, reached London with more than twenty-four hours to spare. This in spite of the fact that for the last week-since the day that Tourville had a.s.saulted Russell in the Channel, and the fog had closed in-she had been certain she was too late and that the entire enterprise was doomed. From that moment until this, London had seemed infinitely far away, and impossible to reach. Now, having reached it, she wondered what all the fuss had been about. For London was after all a great city and people went there all the time-the number of masts thrust into the air above the Pool spoke to this. Perhaps Eliza had nursed an exaggerated view of its remoteness because of the difficulty she'd had in escaping to it almost three years ago, when her s.h.i.+p had been waylaid by Jean Bart.

At any rate she was across the Bridge and in the City before she had reached the end of these ruminations. The horses irritably dragged the carriage up Fish Street Hill as the coachman irritably popped his whip about their ears. It occurred to Eliza that she had not given the driver a destination, other than London. She had no destination in mind. But the driver had. Presently he turned off to the left, into a slit between new (brick, flat-fronted, post-Fire) buildings. The slit broadened and developed into a rambling composition of chambers and orifices, like the stomachs of a cow. It all seemed to be wrapped around the backside of a big structure that looked somehow like church, but somehow not. Tired Eliza remembered, then, that she had found her way to a country where there was more than just one church. She reckoned that this must be a meeting house of Quakers or some other such sect. At any rate they came, after certain turns, reversals, and squeezings, to a doorway adorned with a sign shaped like the head of an indifferent-looking brown horse. A porter exploded out of the doorway and vied with a footman for the honor of ripping the carriage door open. For painted on the outside of the carriage were the arms of the Marquis of Ravenscar, who Eliza gathered must be a valued regular of this inn or tavern, the Brown Horse or the Old Gelding or whatever they called it- "Welcome to Nag's Head Court, my lady," said Roger Comstock, the Marquis of Ravenscar, emerging from the door, and bowing as deeply as a man of his maturity and dignity could without peeling a hamstring or lobbing his wig into the gutter. Eliza by now had thrust her head and shoulders out the door (about all she wanted to reveal, given that she had lost contact with her wardrobe some days ago). She ought to have given her undivided attention to Ravenscar; but she could not restrain the urge to look this way and that up the length of Nag's Head Court.

"No, madame, your senses have not misled you, it is just as mean, narrow, and squalid as you feared, and no apology from me shall balance the offense I have done you, by bringing you to it; but it was a suitable place for me to wait, and behold, it is nigh to the mysteries and delights of the 'Change."

Eliza followed his gaze down the alley. It rambled on in the same vein for a stone's throw and discharged into a proper street, which seemed to be crowded with an inordinate number of well-to-do-chaps who were all in a frightful hurry. She knew what it was just that quickly. If she had been wearing Versailles court-makeup, it would have cracked and fallen to the ground like ice from a warming roof. For her face had done something she never allowed it to do at Versailles, namely, opened up into a broad grin. She directed this at Ravenscar, who all but swooned. "On the contrary, my lord, in all London there's no place I'd rather be than the 'Change, and there is no place I am so well suited for, in my present state, than a dark doorway in Nag's Head Court-so-"

Ravenscar was aghast, and quick-stepped to the base of the wee Barock staircase that the footmen had arranged beneath the carriage-door. This was to help her down, if she insisted; but really he was throwing his body across her path as a barrier. "I would not dream dream of escorting a of escorting a d.u.c.h.ess d.u.c.h.ess into into that that place! I had hoped that the lady might suffer me to join her in the carriage while we proceeded to some destination worthy to be graced by one of her dignity." place! I had hoped that the lady might suffer me to join her in the carriage while we proceeded to some destination worthy to be graced by one of her dignity."

"It is, after all, your your carriage, monsieur-" carriage, monsieur-"

"Nay, madame, yours yours, for as long as you choose to remain on our Isle, and I, your servant."

"Get in the d.a.m.ned carriage, then. And pray lower the shades, for I am not fit to stop light."

Ravenscar did as he was told. The carriage began to move. "Obviously, my driver was able to find you in Portsmouth-?"

"We found found him him. The skipper of our boat would not go to Portsmouth, or any other proper port-town, but only to certain coves he knew of. Thence we hired a waggon."

Ravenscar was looking curiously about the interior of the carriage, as if someone were missing. "We?"

"I was with an Englishman."

"A Person of Quality, or-"

"A Person of Usefulness. But somewhat bull-headed. He had set his mind to looking up his whilom Captain. When we reached Portsmouth he began to make inquiries about the fellow-name of Churchill."

Ravenscar winced. "Eeeyuh, the Earl of Marlborough has been clapped in the Tower of London!"

"So you tell me now now, but, isolated as I'd been, I'd not heard that news. Otherwise I'd have warned my companion not to mention the name."

"They put your man in irons, did they?"

"They did. For I gather that the charge on which Marlborough is being held is that of being a Jacobite spy-?"

"It is so so ludicrous that I am too embarra.s.sed even to repeat it to you. But a moiety of the English race are the ludicrous that I am too embarra.s.sed even to repeat it to you. But a moiety of the English race are the more more inclined to credit an accusation, the more fanciful it becomes; and whoever it was that arrested your man in Portsmouth-" inclined to credit an accusation, the more fanciful it becomes; and whoever it was that arrested your man in Portsmouth-"