“Our ship leaves Calais this Thursday, at six o’clock, so it should arrive at your cavern between nine and ten. Make sure there is no military presence in the area at the time.”
“I’ll go up to London on Monday and talk with the Colonel and Admiral. If there are any change of plans I’ll let you know,” replies his grace.
“Jules and I will be in London for the next two weeks, staying at Ye Olde Salisbury Inn if you need us. We’ll also meet with our two dealers,” says Duc d’ Elchington.
“So when will your people pick up the merchandise?” asked Percival.
“Sunday evening, gentlemen. Be extra careful, after this shipment we’ll lay low for a while,” said the duke.
They talk for another thirty minutes and then join their friends in the music room.
After the concert ends, everyone is milling around with a drink in their hand, making conversation between themselves and the artists. Matilda walks over to her father, “Papa, can we have a few words?”
“Of course, my dear, what is it?”
“Maurice has asked me to stay for the week. Do I have your permission?”
“Has he spoken to his father?”
“Yes, his father has given his consent.”
“Then by all means stay.”
“Thank you, Papa,” and she kisses him on the cheek.
His grace smiles to himself. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
He seeks out his wife, Emily, who is talking with their hostess, Duchess De la Croix,
“Did you ladies enjoy the concert? From what I heard, it sounded fantastic.”
“Your son Andrea’s interpretation of Bach’s violin concerto was really enjoyable, I thought,” says Lady Pomeroy.
“Yes, I think he’ll go places,” replies the duchess.
The Pomeroys stayed the night and left in the morning. Percival has much to cogitate. Fast forward to Thursday afternoon at the Pomeroy’s castle. His grace is anxiously sitting in the living room worrying about all that could go wrong with the shipment. They’ve had a run of luck of late, which has been very lucrative, but he wonders when it would all end. Speak of the devil. Maddie, the servant, walks in.
“Your grace, there’s a gentleman who wishes to speak with you.”
“By all means show him in.”
Percival shifts uneasily in his chair. Who could this be?
Maddie shows the visitor in. As soon as his grace sees the company, he thinks, trouble.
“Your grace, Mr. Samuel Cartwright.” and she leaves.
“Your grace, can we talk?"
“Yes, sit down. What is it?”
“My contact in London has sent me a message. A ship is headed our way.”
“Somebody’s squealed. Sam, take your men and intercept the Sabriel Etienne. Go back with Andrea and his crew to Calais, and stay there until you hear from me. Damn it.”
After Samuel leaves, Percival runs to the stables and jumps on a buggy. He heads for “The Pig and Whistle,” but nobody is in sight. He nurses a tankard of draught beer and keeps both eyes on the door. After about an hour, the colonel shows up and sits down.
