“An’ oui, Capitaine, mon ami,” Gambon added with a sly grin, “I am zee ‘Frog’ weeth a great deal of gall, hawn hawn!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“M’sieur Gambon, it is I who must protest your insistence upon entering my house in such an inapropriate manner,” Mr. Cotton snapped.
“Tut tut, Edward, we are simply conducting ze beezeness of diplomacy,” Gambon told him, most cherry-merry. “Weel you name yourself to me, eef Edward ees reluctant to do so, M’sieur Capitaine? An’ ees that your delectable citrus tea, Edward? I do prefer eet best when ze peaches are een season, but… may I ’ave a glass?”
“I-I must… if only to get rid of you, you boorish pest,” Mr. Cotton sourly gravelled. “ M’sieur, I name to you Captain Sir Alan Lewrie, Baronet, commanding His Majesty’s Frigate Reliant. ”
For a gotch-gut, and a fellow who sounded so enthusiastic about the levelling glories of France, Gambon performed a very graceful and elegant bow, with one foot extended, en pointe, and one hand swept low across his body, like a life-long aristocrat.
Lewrie responded with a sketchier bow from the waist, and a nod of his head. “ M’sieur Gambon,” he brusquely said.
“Such suspicion!” Gambon replied, with a little laugh. “Such an aversion to the pleasantries… as eef I am ze Devil, heemself, ha!”
“No… you just work for him,” Lewrie coolly said.
“Eet ees as I thought, z’en,” Gambon replied, fazed not a whit, and still the “Merry Andrew”. “Or, as I fear-ed, rather. Ze Capitaine ees implacable een hees hatred for everything French… so much so I fear he weel be unable to restrain heemself from making war upon innocent sailors, right here een Charleston ’arbour.”
“Your Otarie, d’ye mean, sir?” Lewrie countered. “Your privateer schooner?”
“Ze ’onest merchant trader from ze French West Indies, who ’as come to trade,” Gambon stated with another smile and a shrug.
“With such a large crew, and so well-armed, sir?” Lewrie scoffed. “Which island in the French West Indies?”
“Edward, I am certain you ’ave amis een ze Customs ’Ouse, een ze government, who tell you of Otarie ’s registry, an’ ’er manifests,” Gambon breezed off, “wheech isle, I ’ave forgotten, but Edward knows. ’E can tell you, later, oui?’ No tea for me?” he plaintively begged.
“Not for those who ignore the protocols,” Mr. Cotton told him, “I’d much admire you state your business quickly… excuse though this call was to take Sir Alan’s measure.”
“ Tres bien,” Gambon said with a put-upon sigh. “As you expect, Edward, Capitaine Loo-’ow you say eet?-I ’ave already lodged a formal protest weeth the American Navy officer present, weeth ze American government’s senior representative ’ere and weeth ze Mayor an’ ze council de la cite, denouncing ze presence of a British warship ’ere, expressing my fears that something untoward could occur eef eet stays one hour longer. I ’ave also express-ed z’at such presence ees ze insult to American neutrality, to ze United States, ze state of South Carolina, an’ ze cite of Charleston… so much of an insult z’at ze local citoyens may take to ze streets een anger.”
“Oh, please, Albert,” Mr. Cotton spluttered in exasperation, making Lewrie feel that, in private, the two men got along a lot better than their Publick personae allowed. “And did you also tell them that Reliant is the vanguard of a British invasion? That she’s going to open fire on the city, and land her Marines to rape their mothers?”
“I take my duty to Hees Majesty ze Emperor mos’ seriously,” Gambon bristled up like a hedgehog in a grand flounce, “an’ I ’ave too much love and respect for ze people of America to see z’em ’arm-ed.”
“And, how far did you get with that twaddle?” Cotton scoffed.
“Ze matter ees being looked eento mos’ closely by ze officials to whom I spoke,” Gambon assured them.
“Which is to say, they didn’t even give you the time of day,” Mr. Cotton said with a wry chuckle. “Is that all, M’sieur Gambon?”
“Eet ees not, M’sieur Cotton,” Gambon replied, still on a formal “high horse” and in gravity. “I ask of ze distinguish-ed Capitaine, what was the time z’at your frigate came to anchor, M’sieur?”
“It’s pronounced Loo-ree, accent on the first syllable, M’sieur, ” Lewrie told him in equal gravity, secretly amused by the posturing wee toad-man, and his few streaks of pomaded hair. “We came to wind, and let go the bower at Three Bells of the Forenoon.”
Gambon twitched his mouth, as if Lewrie was speaking Hindoo.
“That is to say, half-past nine this morning,” Lewrie went on, grinning a bit.
“Z’en, I ’ardly ’ave to remind you, Capitaine Loo-ree, z’at ze Admiralty Law recognis-ed by all civilised nations require you to sail from Charleston before half pas’ nine of ze morning, three days hence,” Gambon slyly said. “Further, Capitaine, eet ees not permitted z’at you be allowed to return to Charleston… or any ozzer port een ze state of South Carolina weethout a reasonable time at sea… beyond ze limit of three miles so you do not violate American neutrality by remaining een coastal waters; n’est-ce pas?”
“Of a certainty, sir,” Lewrie replied, beginning to get a sinking feeling in his innards that he was about to be “had”.
“Een point of fact, Capitaine… an’ Edward may bear me out on z’is,” Gambon happily went on, “since ze United States ees by z’eir Constitution a Federalist republique, not a confederation of sovereign and separate states weeth z’eir own maritime laws, it would be a gross violation of American sovereignty, and neutrality, eef you sail-ed into any ozzer American port until a reasonable time ’as pass-ed. I made z’is point weeth ze American government representative, and ze senior officer of ze American Navy. While ’e ’as but two small gunboats, an’ cannot be expected to enforce hees nation’s laws against such a powerful frigate, eet would be mos’ regrettable should ’e fin’ you loath to depart on time, or, ’ow you say?… break you passage… at Beaufort or Port Royal, perhaps even at Savannah, or Wilmington, oui?”
God rot the little shit! Lewrie silently fumed; He’s got me by the ‘nut-megs’ ! Just look at him enjoyin’ this!
“I also mus’ point out to your excellent Capitaine, Edward,” Gambon continued, turning to Mr. Cotton, and almost purring in triumph, “z’at by Admiralty Law, to avoid ze effusion of blood, and ze introduction of la guerre mos’ horrible in neutral waters, Capitaine Mollien of Otarie… an ’onest an’ ’umble merchantman of ze mos’ peaceful an’ innocent intent… mus’ be given ze grace period of at least twelve ’ours between ze time ’e sails, an’ ze time z’at Capitaine Loo-ree ees allow-ed to sail… hawn hawn. But of course,” Gambon added, turning to Lewrie with the hugest “shit-eating” grin on his phyz, “so esteem-ed an officer een ze Royal Navy ’ardly ’as to be reminded of ze laws of nations, non?”