He looked to the other cot, where the foretopman lay, propped up on his elbow, listening intently. ‘Any ideas, Whitlow? We could use them.’
Oh, these cheeky Americans. Billy Whitlow, foretopman and apparent rascal, folded his arms across his chest. ‘Private Bartleby, since you have no jurisdiction over me, I will confess that mine was a misspent youth. I stole and lied and raked around—beg pardon, Mrs Beattie—until my poor father sent me to sea, where I learned a trade.’
‘I’m relieved,’ the Marine replied. Anna heard the sarcasm. ‘Say on, you miscreant.’
‘I think tonight, when all is quiet, I will revert to my former trade and steal something.’
‘What, pray tell?’ Anna asked, almost—but not quite—entertained.
‘A sweet little sloop I noticed in Port Mahon when Captain Tyler brought us here. Here’s my plan: I will sail that sloop toward Mallorca, where, with any luck—and I might add that luck isallwe currently have—I will encounter either theSwallowor theHartfordand tell them what is going on.’
He looked around, smiling beatifically. ‘We’re a rascally lot at times, we Americans.’ He added, ‘I wouldn’t trust us, either.’ His expression changed. ‘Know this: I’m not badly injured at all. Captain Tyler wanted me here for the same purpose as you, Private Bartleby.’
‘I’ll be damned,’ David said.
Billy turned serious eyes on them. ‘I will never let you two down, nor any one on either of our ships. Word of honour.’
‘And you have mine,’ David said. ‘I’d like to wring Hal Brown’s neck, but that can wait. Can’t afford to alert the Durands. Ending dirty doings on Mallorca is the bigger issue, where the French are assembling an army. We have to defeatLa Guerre, but how?’ He looked at Anna. ‘Mrs Beattie? You have another thoughtful look on your face.’
Be careful, be careful, she wanted to say.Oh, my, do we dare?Surely they’ve already thought of this.
‘What, Mrs Beattie?’ David asked. ‘Your husband told me you have a fine mind. Nothing too audacious, though. We’re mere mortals.’
‘You might laugh…’ she started.
‘We could use a laugh,’ Billy said. ‘Say on.’
‘Perhaps you audacious Americans could be the bait,’ she said.
‘Oh, harsh. And…?’ he prompted.
‘When you find your ship, tell Captain Tyler to dock in theSwallow’s slot. I suspect the two torches will flare, no matter which ship is there. Before he left, John told me he was going to sail close to theHartford. Before Captain Tyler sails here, hecan alert theSwallowto sail into our private inlet in the dark of night.’
‘A lot of whens and ifs there, Mrs Beattie,’ David cautioned.
‘If you have a better idea, speak up,’ she said sweetly, which made him wince.
‘After a night here, Captain Tyler can sail out at dawn from Port Mahon. Normally, that would alert Mr Brown to cross the inlet to light one torch, which in turn would alert the watchingLa Guerrethat theHartfordis coming out. TheSwallowwill still be nowhere in sight, but hiding here, in the inlet. Oh, dear, this sounds most unpleasant…’
David Bartleby was smiling now. ‘Mrs Beattie, I believe you are a tactician worthy of Lord Nelson.’
‘Nothing so grand,’ she said modestly. ‘You see what your role is to be, don’t you?’
‘I am to snap Brown’s scrawny neck at St Matthew’s before he can light one torch to indicate the one ship he knows of is leaving.Hartfordwill therefore sail out unexpectedly towardsLa Guerre, followed closely by the equally unexpectedSwallow.’ He laughed. ‘Our battle begins, two to one this time.’ David looked around, triumphant. ‘We will have the advantage of surprise.’
‘It’s complicated,’ she warned.
The three of them looked at each other. ‘Is it aye or nay?’ she asked.
‘Aye, Mrs Beattie,’ her heroes said in unison.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Billy Whitlow, foretopman and reformed scoundrel, did indeed revert to his former ways. After a nearly sleepless night, Anna came downstairs in her robe and peeped in the sitting room. His cot was empty. David Bartleby gave her a thumbs-up. She tiptoed back upstairs, hoping the foretopman was as good a thief as he said he was, and hoping Hal Brown would take no interest in an ordinary sloop sailing from Port Mahon, something that happened all the time.
She dressed quickly, then hurried downstairs to the sitting room. ‘David,’ she whispered, ‘has Madame Durand been in here yet?’
‘Not yet,’ the Marine replied. ‘I suggest you make a big noise about Billy’s disappearance so she is aware. I doubt the Durands will know what to do about this unexpected development.’ He gave her a big smile.
