In Dangerous Company: The Dorset Boy Book 4 Page 11

  One of the scouts, private Sheldon, pointed to a glow coming from the first yard. La Pierre signed for him to go take a look by pointing to his eyes then the glow. Sheldon moved forward in a crouch silently testing the ground with every step. He got himself in a position where he could ease himself up the rickety fence and peek over the top. He dropped down immediately and worked his way back.

  “Night watchman,” he reported. “Old feller and another in the last yard. I kin see the glow of his fire.”

  “Awake?” asked La Pierre.

  “Yes, sitting looking in ter the flames.”

  Perfect, he would be completely night blind.

  “Take him out quietly. Don’t kill him unless you have to.”

  “Aye aye sir!”

  Sheldon slipped away, moving inland to get around the fence. He disappeared and all they could do was wait. La Pierre looked at his pocket watch. He could see it quite clearly by the full moon. They had been ashore for just fifteen minutes, but it felt much longer.

  Sheldon reappeared and waved. They signalled the team and started moving forward again. He was waiting for them at the entrance to the yard.

  “There be four or five men asleep in that hut over there. They looks like workers,” he told La Pierre.

  Paul thought for a minute and then ordered.

  “Sergeant take the second security section and check the rest of the yards for residents then set up as planned on the far road. Report back here yourself.”

  “Where is Corporal Stringer?”

  “Here sir!” a voice hissed from the side.

  “Take your team and neutralise the inhabitants of that hut. Use blackjacks rather than knives. Get them out of the way and secure then get back to your positions as planned. Understood?”

  “Aye aye sir.”

  Stringer’s squad moved out, silent and efficient.

  Blaez trotted along beside his boss. He had sensed that Marty was moving into danger and there was no way he was being left behind. Now he moved beside him with all his senses at heightened alert. The swim to shore, albeit over half a mile, hadn’t been a problem, his paws were half webbed, and he swam like an otter. Now he was looking out for the things his boss couldn’t see with his inferior senses.

  Marty’s team moved through the town like shadows. They were chosen for their special skills at moving silently and getting into places that would normally be secure. They were in a word, effective. The two point-men were woodsmen and could move silently through dry brush. They made no sound as they moved through the town. When they came upon a night watchman walking his rounds, he didn’t know what hit him.

  The ministry building was next door to l’Hotel de Ville, the town hall, and was perhaps a little ostentatious for post-revolutionary France. It was dark and there seemed to be no one on guard. They started to move in when Blaez growled low in his throat.

  Marty immediately stopped and everyone else stopped at the same time. Sergeant Bright had heard the growl, pointed to two men and signalled for them to patrol to either side of the building.

  There was the sound of a brief scuffle, no more than a second or two, then the marine who had gone around the left side of the building re-appeared and gave a thumbs up.

  Marty waited for another minute until the second scout reappeared having gone completely around the building. When he gave a thumbs up, Marty moved up to the door, he was after all the best lock pick of the team.

  The door took nine seconds to unlock and Marty quietly opened it with a blackjack in his left hand. He waited and listened, there was no sound from inside. He went to enter then froze. He had heard something but wasn’t sure what it was. There! He heard it again. A snore!

  Silently he slipped into the building. He didn’t need to look behind him to know that his men would be following as they had practiced. Blaez pushed ahead, went straight to a door to the right and stood head cocked to one side listening.

  Marty signalled for his men to move ahead and clear the rooms around the entrance hall. He moved over beside Blaez and slowly opened the door. Inside he could just make out the outline of a guard. He was laid out on a couch, fast asleep and snoring stentoriously. Marty moved over beside him and pinched his nose. He didn’t wake but rolled onto his side. With a grin Marty rapped him sharply behind the ear with the blackjack then bound and gagged him.

  Around about the same time as Marty put the guard into a deep sleep. La Pierre was looking at the result of his men ‘cleaning up’ the boatyards. There were seventeen, neatly trussed and gagged, men laid out along the side of the road. According to his watch they were about on schedule and Marty should be inside the ministry around now.

  The search of the ministry was moving along well. They had collected several bagsful of papers, memos, and communiques. But so far, no gold. Marty chewed a nail. There had to be some here somewhere, but where?

  La Pierre looked at his watch for the fourth or fifth time in as many minutes. It was time. “Sergeant signal for the fires to be set if you would be so kind,” he asked.

  Sergeant Edney reached into a pack and took out a small signal rocket. He took a burning piece of slow match from a marine and lit the fuse. He held the rocket at arm’s length between two fingers and as soon as it whooshed into life he let it fly up into the pristine sky. The rocket painted a trail of blue light that sparkled as it fell earthward and faded.

  Small fires blossomed and then grew into brilliant red and yellow flowers as they took hold of the seasoned wood. Soon the flames had grown into raging infernos that would rival a volcano for ferocity.

  Back at the Ministry Marty stood in the main office and looked around. Nothing looked out of place. Then he heard scratching. He looked around and Blaez was pawing at a piece of carpet. He stopped and sniffed at it, cocked his head to one side and then pounced on it with both feet.

  “What’s that boy?” Marty asked. Blaez looked at him with the goofy look he had when he was ratting in the barn and he wanted Marty to move something so he could get to his prey.

  Marty pulled the carpet aside and tapped with his foot on the floor, it was hollow. Marty looked carefully and saw a small hole, he put his finger in and felt around. He couldn’t feel anything like a lock mechanism, so he hooked it and pulled.

  Back at The Alouette, Marty watched the flames as both the boatyards and the ministry burnt merrily. He grinned and ordered Midshipman Thompson to make way and head back towards home. Returning to his cabin he looked at the small chest that was sat on his desk. It was heavy, that was not in doubt as he had carried it halfway back to the beach before one of the larger Marines had taken it from him with a grin and a “let me ‘elp you there Sor.”

  He examined the lock, then opened a drawer on his desk and took out a small set of lock picks. He was just slipping them in when there was a knock at the door and Tom walked in.

  “So that’s the chest everyone is talking about,” he said as he dropped into one of the chairs. “Where did you find it?”

  “I didn’t, he did.” Marty answered nodding at Blaez who was demolishing a beef bone that the cook had given him. “There was rat in the hidden compartment under the floor and he heard it.”

  There was a click as the lock succumbed to his attentions and he popped open the clasp. He grinned at Tom and opened the lid. He frowned as he pulled out a packet of papers and then his eyebrows went up as he read them.

  “These are the orders for the barges from the ministry in Paris and they aren’t just for the boatyards that we burnt. They list what they want built from every boatyard along this stretch of coast. That office is, or rather was until we burnt it, the main controlling office for that whole sector.”

  “That’s good, we will know where to go next, but what’s in the rest of the box?” Tom asked obviously itching with curiosity.

  “Oh, you mean this?” Marty said absently flipping him a coin.

  “Lous d’Or. Nice! How many?”

  “I don’t know, why don’t you count the
m.” Marty said still distracted by the papers.

  Tom looked at him and shook his head. Marty knew he couldn’t count much above ten so he stood and opened the door.

  “Marine Sheldon!” he bellowed

  Marine Sheldon arrived in a hurry.

  “Sah!” he shouted as he stamped to attention in front of Tom.

  “You don’t call me sir you idiot” Tom snapped, “and don’t shout. I want you to count the coins in that chest.”

  Sheldon’s eyes went wide, and his fingers twitched.

  “And if you have any ideas about slipping one or two in your pocket I will be watching.”

  The count showed they had five hundred and eighty-three Louis, that was around one thousand, seven hundred and fifty pounds. A decent haul! Marty decided that half would go to Wickham to pay off their debt. The rest would be added to the men’s social fund, which he had set up to ensure they would get an income if they were invalided out of the service, or their families would get something to live on if they were killed.

  Marty sat in his office and marked all the boatyards that were listed in the papers on a map. St Valery, Cayeux, Ault, Mers-le-Bains and Dieppe were the main ones with the biggest orders. He knew one thing for certain, someone would look for the chest in the burnt-out ruin of the ministry and realise it was missing. They would soon know they were coming. They needed to act fast before the French could react.

  They had the ships ready for a second sortie two nights later and set sail at dusk. Their target was Mers-le-Bains. Dieppe was bigger but was also a Naval base for the French and he didn’t want to walk into a hornet’s nest without scouting it first. The plan was different this time. The marines would land on the beach as before, but then the Alouette would move up the coast a short way and bombard an army encampment between Ault and Friaucourt mentioned in the paperwork they had found.

  The drop off went exactly to plan and they moved up the coast. Marty identified the town of Ault and the lookout on the mast reported seeing camp fires about a mile behind it. They would be shooting blind, but the sea was relatively flat, and they knew roughly how far inland the shot had to travel. Marty planned to ‘walk’ the barrage through the encampment by starting short and increasing the range by increments. Their long nines would just about have the range.

  The hove to and the gunners set the quoins to the angle Marty had calculated. That in itself was an approximation as there were no graduations on a naval gun. They let fly the first broadside.

  The lookout couldn’t see the fall of shot so they raised the barrels a fraction and fired again. Still nothing although he did say that he could see torches moving around in the camp.

  Up again and let fly. This time he reported that a couple of the campfires had thrown up sparks into the air. Marty let the next broadside go without changing anything. The lookout reported there were some new fires.

  Marty grabbed a night glass and climbed the mainmast. Up and around the futtock shrouds to the topsail yard. He settled himself and moved the glass up from the town near them until he picked up the fires. Everything was upside down and back to front, but he could see men running around and a couple of burning tents.

  The next broadside fired, and he waited.

  The ground inside the camp erupted in geysers of dirt as the shot landed. Some must have ricocheted as there were tents being knocked down further back and a group of soldiers were bowled over like skittles. He shinned down a stay to the deck and ordered two more broadsides for effect and then they would return to Mers-le-Bains.

  Chapter 15 Lost and Found

  Back at base Marty had a conference with his mids, La Pierre, Simmonds, the Sailing Master, and Bill Clarence.

  “What do we know about Dieppe?”

  “It’s an active port with two basins accessed through a channel from the sea. The inner basin is larger and is effectively a holding basin. The outer is where ships drop off and load goods.” Simmonds informed them.

  “The French have installed artillery to defend the entrance. You don’t get in or out without permission,” Bill added. “The last time we were there we saw a couple of frigates and a liner in the holding basin.”

  “Where are the boatyards?” Marty asked.

  “At the back end of the holding basin. There are slips for building ships as well, they can build anything up to a corvette there.” Bill answered.

  “So how could we disrupt the port?” Marty asked realising an attack on the yards was out of the question.

  “Well if you could sink a reasonable sized ship in the entrance channel you would close it until they could clear the wreck,” Ryan Thompson suggested.

  “They would just blow it up.” Marty replied.

  They were silent for a few minutes. Then James Campbell said thoughtfully.

  “What if it was full of stone?”

  “What if what was full of stone?” Marty asked him.

  “The ship we sink in the harbour entrance. What if it was full of stone?” he replied.

  “That isn’t a bad idea!” Simmonds stated. “especially if it were full of big lumps of stone.”

  “What kind of ship?” James asked.

  “Not a ship.” Bill said. “A barge. Or even better two.”

  The discussion continued over dinner and focused on barges in particular. Barges were horrible sailors, they had flat bottoms and needed leeboards to stop them sliding sideways with the wind. A barge loaded with stone would be difficult to steer and be very low in the water so could only be sailed in very slight seas. Marty had seen some big barges working out of the Isle of Purbeck moving stone from there around the coast to London.

  He wrote up their plan and sent it to Hood and Wickham. He wasn’t surprised when he was summoned to a meeting at Wickham’s house at short notice.

  He rode up to Canterbury and then got a coach to London. He planned to stay over at his London house as Caroline and the children were still in Dorset but went straight to Wickham’s house to be there on time.

  After the usual pleasantries they waited for Lord Hood to arrive then got down to business.

  “Do you think that sinking these barges will close the port for any length of time?” asked Hood. “I don’t want us to waste a lot of effort and have them clear it in a couple of days.”

  “We plan to fill the holds with mortar to make it into one solid mass. It will act like a dam.” Marty replied. “They will have to chip it out or blow it up bit by bit.”

  “Why two barges?” asked Wickham.

  “The channel is narrow and relatively shallow,” he explained, “so we plan to drop one along the channel and the other across it but just behind the first one.” Marty drew a diagram on a sheet of paper as he explained. “That should seal it up for a long time.”

  “Where do you propose getting the barges and stone?” Hood asked even though it had told them in the letter.

  “The barges they use for moving the stone from Purbeck or Portland up the coast to London would be perfect. They have a very high freeboard so they can carry heavy loads. When loaded they are stable, they have a single mast, leeboards and are gaff rigged. They look a lot like a French stone barge as I guess there is only one design that works. The stone can be the rejected stuff that comes out of the mines. It’s worth nothing so we can get it for the cost of loading it.”

  Hood sat back in thought. As he watched him Marty noticed how he was looking his 79 years of age. He’s done bloody well considering he was at sea for fifty-three years, Marty thought as he waited for his judgement.

  “It might just work,” said Hood. “It would free up the channel fleet from blockading it, allowing them to focus on Brest. I think you should give it a go. I will talk to Troubridge and get him to endorse it.”

  Sir Thomas Troubridge was the First Navy Lord and his name on this would make it an official Navy mission. Marty would fail at his peril.

  Marty returned to his house and sent an invitation to the de Marches family to come and visit that after
noon or on the morrow. Marty guessed he had at least that long to relax. His letter writing was up to date, so he decided to take a stroll. Blaez needed a walk and the weather was fine. He put his pocket pistols in his coat pocket, put on his bicorn hat and left.

  Hyde Park was just at the end of Upper Grosvenor Street where they had their house, so it took only a few minutes for him to pass through the gate into the park proper. There were a lot of people making the most of the good weather and as he walked, he observed young couples walking side by side followed by a servant or older relative as chaperone. There were others, who were obviously married, walking or riding in open carriages with their children. There were even couples who were behaving in such a way as they could only be having a triste.

  As he walked, he noticed a handsome couple, a Navy captain and a very beautiful woman walking arm in arm towards him. The man looked at him and grinned in recognition.

  “Martin! How are you my boy?” cried Captain Turner in greeting and reached out to shake his hand.

  Marty took it and shook it vigorously.

  “I am extremely well Sir,” he replied. “I had no idea you were ashore still.”

  “Will be joining my new ship on Monday, they’ve given me the Triton, a seventy-four.” He got a nudge in the ribs from his companion. He started and then said, “allow me to introduce my fiancé, Juliette Harmason.”

  Marty made a leg over her proffered hand.

  “Juliette, this is Lieutenant Martin Stockley otherwise known as Lord Candor,” he finished with a grin.

  “Ah the infamous Martee.” Juliette smiled with wicked glint in her eye. “I heard about your early exploits from Contessa Evelyn. How is Lady Caroline?”