Rank and Respectability

- Chapter 20 -

July sped through August, and August through September. While nothing changed of note in Compton and the surrounding area after Benedict Gray's funeral, much changed for Mr Routley. The Victory, now scheduled to blockade Cadiz, was waiting in Portsmouth; and there it was that Mr Routley was transferred in preparation of its departure. The morning of September 14th had him embarking in his navy uniform and sitting in for the long sail to Cadiz. A few young lads wandered about the ship with green collars the first weeks on board. It had been far past two years since Routley had been offshore, but his legs quickly recalled how to combat the sway of the waves. Routley didn't endeavor or require to be overly social, unlike some aboard. Mr John Gray was a mate on this particular vessel and he was one who seemed to find it his duty to befriend everyone; as such, considering their last encounter had not been a pleasant one, Mr Gray's friends preferred to avoid Routley's company, which left him largely in the company of himself alone; which suited fine. One of these numerous moments of solitude found him resting in his tiny bunk below deck, when a particularly violent wave caused something to thunk onto the floor a few bunks down. Routley bent to look, seeing a thick letter sliding towards him. He stood and picked it up intending to discover who's it was, when he discovered he could not as the address was written in French. It could be nothing - one of the mates may have a French lady love - but likely not. Brandon determined to keep a sharp eye out for suspicious goings-on, tucked the letter in his breast-pocket and went in search of a superior officer.

The letter was read by the first mate (who was a proficient of the French language) and it was confirmed the letter was indeed the work of an enemy agent by the name of Lady Rose, bearing false information to lead Nelson and his fleet astray. It was clear then that Nelson's failure to catch up to Villeneuve earlier that year was due to similar false reports. After much covert discussion with Admiral Nelson and a few trusted others, the men parted ways with the purpose to dig out a rat.
Very little digging was required as it turned out; not two days passed when a commotion was heard on deck and upon reaching the area of interest Routley saw a struggling young officer held by two others - one of which was John Gray - while a senior officer was demanding Admiral Nelson issue the gauntlet. Routley could hardly hear the young man's cries and protests through the commotion but it was clear that he had been found out as the spy and was desperately claiming the judgement to be false. Routley leaned towards one man. "How was he caught?"

"Not sure, letters were found in his hammock. He claims he was framed but that's what they all say."

"No doubt. Who found them?"

"One of those holding him, the younger one I believe."

John Gray, who at that moment met Routley's eye, let slip the barest hint of a smirk on his lips before glancing away again. "You said it was found in a hammock?" Routley asked.

"Right." the man confirmed. "Not more than a few away from me. Seemed like a decent lad, I never would have guessed, good at his job clearly. Damn French sympathizer, he's a dead man for this."

The young man was currently being stripped to the waist, all the while shaking his head and repeating as if in a daze "I'm not a traitor. I swear it I'm not a traitor."

All men aboard were forming two rows with a narrow path down the centre, the gauntlet, by the Admiral's order. It sat ill with Brandon Routley as he was pushed into line and a strap handed to him, this boy couldn't be the spy. He looked again to Mr Gray, sword in hand, prodding the young officer into the path between the men. The accused was quiet now, a severe expression tight across his face, jaw and fists clenching as he walke and the men on either side began the flogging. It would be a long walk. Routley wasn't sure the young man would make it down the full line before dropping out cold. The boy was halfway through now, and he couldn't join in with the jeers; the smell and spray of blood was making him sick. They should have had a proper trial at least. The claims against him were all too flimsy. Lady Rose the thought came to him suddenly or perhaps also 'Rosy'. Brandon dropped his strap and fairly ran to the young man, grabbing him by an arm. "Move!" he bellowed at the bewildered crowd of officers as he led his captive out of the fray and towards the admiral. "Admiral Nelson, Sir, this man is not guilty!"