The War Chest by Porter Hill

will.’
    Horne began to understand. ‘The Navy Board—as well as the Company—want unidentifiable raiders to seize the French war chest.’
    ‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’
    ‘That’s why you’re turning to—’ Horne decided that only the Marines’ loathsome nickname would be appropriate. ‘—the Bombay buccaneers.’
    ‘Precisely.’
    ‘But why choose me to lead the mission, Your Excellency?’
    ‘Your performance at Madras makes you the most likely candidate, Captain Horne.’
    ‘I had the Eclipse .’
    Spencer turned away from Horne. ‘I understand, Captain, that your recent voyage from Bombay to Madagascar was itself interrupted by raiders. I also understand that you helped thwart the attack as well as capture two ships, one of which is a frigate, a fine, strong ship called the Huma .’
    Who told him that? Goodair? Tree?
    Spencer continued, ‘Even as we talk, Captain Horne, below us in the harbour the Huma is undergoing repairs—masts replaced, guns fitted, entirely provisioned and crewed.’
    Horne refused to allow himself to become excited about the possibility of the majestic Huma being assigned to his command. Instead, his voice sharpened as he asked, ‘Whatship would have been assigned for the mission had the Huma not been captured, Your Excellency?’
    The young man’s questions disturbed Governor Spencer. He did not like subordinates being so thorough.
    He replied, ‘A Company brig was to have been spared.’
    ‘How, sir, can one ship—brig or frigate—hope to take an entire convoy?’
    ‘You’re assuming that the French gold is travelling in convoy, Captain Horne. Our sources in France report that the gold departed six months ago from Le Havre aboard a ship called the Royaume .’
    ‘And the ship is still at sea, sir?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘With all due respect, sir, how do you receive information so quickly?’
    ‘The Royaume is also laden with cargo, Captain. Heavy cargo. Progress is slow.’
    Horne thought of one possibility of danger. ‘Could not Mauritius also have been alerted and be sending an escort for the Royaume when she passes into the Indian Ocean?’
    ‘That could be dealt with.’
    ‘Am I to understand by that remark, Your Excellency, that Pocock’s fleet will also be participating in the operation? If only in a minor capacity?’
    ‘Admiral Pocock and His Majesty’s Navy will be kept informed, yes.’
    It was on the tip of Horne’s tongue to argue that word passed by sea messenger would not help him and his men in a difficult situation, not if they needed immediate support.
    Spencer said, ‘You look troubled, Captain Horne? Why? At Madras, the odds against success were much greater.’
    ‘At Madras, Your Excellency, you and your distinguished colleagues supplied me with ground plans for Fort St George. Watch charts. Time lists. I have nothing now except a fairly dated report saying that the French have dispatched a treasure chest—aboard a ship named the Royaume —destined for the island of Mauritius.’ Unimpressed, Horne shrugged.
    ‘Ah, but you do have a squadron of highly trained Marines, Captain Horne. Six of them.’
    Not seven? Governor Spencer’s source of information about the Marines must be impeccable, including the news of Bapu’s death. Horne had an inexplicable feeling that his enemy might easily be not the French, but England’s Honourable East India Company.
    * * *
    Horne had left Company House. Governor Spencer sat at a table in a small room, holding the letter which Horne had written to his father in London. Chips from the wax seal were scattered across the table’s leather top.
    Reading the simply-written communication, Spencer liked Horne even less than he did in person. The letter’s tone was like Horne himself: straightforward, yes, but it seemed to be hiding something. As Horne did.
    Horne had written of a leader’s responsibility to his troops, of man’s need to be constantly ready for death, of the fact that death in a