Rapscallion by James McGee Read Free Book Online Page B

can
rent out your part of the bench."
    "I knew I
could count on you," Lasseur said. "I had this feeling in my
bones."
    The interpreter
permitted himself a small smile. His teeth were surprisingly even, though in
the gloom they were the colour of damp parchment. "Thank you, Captain. And
might I say it's been a pleasure doing business with you."
    Murat turned.
"And the same goes for you, Captain Hooper. It's a pleasure to meet an
American. I've long been an admirer of your country. Now, if there's anything
else you require, don't hesitate to ask. You'll find I'm the man to do business
with. You want to buy, come to Murat. You have something to sell, come to
Murat. My terms are very favourable, as you'll see."
    "You're a
credit to free enterprise, Lieutenant," Lasseur said.
    Murat
volunteered a full-blown conspiratorial grin. "You're going to fit right
in here, Captain." The interpreter gave a mock salute. "Now, if
you'll excuse me, gentlemen." And with that, he turned on his heel, and
walked off. To hand the money on, Hawkwood assumed, minus his commission, of
course.
    "I do
believe we've just been robbed," Lasseur said cheerfully, and then
shrugged. "But it was neatly done. I can see we're going to have to keep
our eyes on Lieutenant Murat. Did you ever have any dealings with his
cousin?"
    Hawkwood shook
his head and said wryly, "Can't say I'm likely to, either, considering I'm
an American and he's the King of Naples."
    "I keep
forgetting: your French is very good. Murat's cousin served in Spain,
though."
    "I
know," Hawkwood said. "And your army has been trying to clean up his
damned mess ever since."
    Lasseur looked taken
aback by Hawkwood's rejoinder. Then he nodded in understanding. "Ah, yes,
the uprising."
    It had been back
in '08. In response to Bonaparte's kidnapping of the Spanish royal family in
an attempt to make Spain a French satellite, the Spanish had attacked the
French garrison in Madrid. Retaliation, by troops under the command of the
flamboyant Joachim Murat, had been swift and brutal and had led to a nationwide
insurrection against the invaders, which had continued, with the assistance of
the British, ever since.
    Lasseur gave a
sigh. "Kings and generals have much to answer for."
    "Presidents
and emperors, too," Hawkwood said.
    Lasseur
chuckled.
    The boy moved to
the port and stared through the grille.
    Hawkwood did the
same. Over the boy's shoulder he could see ships floating at anchor and beyond
them the flat, featureless shoreline and, further off, some anonymous
buildings with blue-grey rooftops. He heard the steady tread of boot heel on
metal. He'd forgotten the walkway. It was just outside the scuttles. He waited
until the guard's shadow had passed then gripped the grille and tried to shake
it. There was no movement. The crossbars were two inches thick and rock solid.
    "Well, I
doubt we'll be able to cut our way out," Lasseur said, running an
exploratory hand over the metal.
    "Planning
on making a run for it?" Hawkwood asked.
    "Why do you
think I would never ask for parole?" Lasseur said. "You wouldn't want
me to break my word, would you?" The Frenchman grinned and, for a moment,
there was a flash of the man who had arrived in the gaol cell at Maidstone
looking for a means to light his cheroot. He regarded Hawkwood speculatively.
    "I'm still
considering my options," Hawkwood said.
    Lasseur
chuckled.
    The irony was
that Lasseur wouldn't have been entitled to parole anyway, even if he hadn't
already proved he was a potential escape risk by virtue of his earlier breaks
for freedom.
    There were
stringent rules governing the granting of parole, which entitled an officer to
live outside the prison to which he'd been assigned. It meant securing
accommodation in a designated parole town, sometimes taking a room with a local
family or, if possessed of sufficient funds, within a lodging house or inn. In
return, the officer gave his word he would not break his curfew but would
remain within the town limits and make