The Baltic Prize

Chapter 25

In the legation as the evening lamps were being lit, Moore paced backwards and forwards in a rage of frustration. ‘It’s madness! I won’t do it! The man’s demented if he believes half of what he says.’

‘Yes, yes,’ Thornton said wearily from the depths of an armchair. ‘But as always I remind you that Sweden is our last remaining ally and should the alliance fall …’

‘You don’t understand what you’re asking. I’m entrusted with England’s only military expedition of size and you want me to sacrifice it at the whim of a lunatic?’

‘He may be … demanding, but there’s more to this than military honour. Sir, I ask you to remember again your highest order: to do all in your power to safeguard the Baltic trade, against which all else is posturing.’

Moore stopped abruptly. ‘This, then, is your view of my situation, sir?’

‘Essentially, yes.’

‘Then, sir, I must retire to consider my position.’ He turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

He was back in less than an hour.

‘You have reflected on the higher principles?’ Thornton asked evenly.

Moore was considerably calmer, composed. ‘I have. And in the absence of greater authority have made my dispositions in the light of what I’ve heard.’

‘May I know what these are?’

‘Since there is no reasoning with a mad king, and at the same time you seem to have no knowledge of the military implications, I have taken steps.’

‘General?’ Thornton asked warily.

‘I have this hour sent off a letter to King Gustav. In it I have informed him that my orders do not allow me to engage in military activities of the kind he proposes. Nor is it to be suffered that I place myself or any of my force under his command. Therefore there is no point in my continuing the inhuman confinement of my troops aboard ship and I will be quit of his realm.’

Appalled, Thornton could not think of a reply and Moore went on, in satisfaction, ‘So tomorrow, Thornton, we take ship for Gothenburg and thence back home, where I trust my men will be better valued. Good night.’

At a little before midnight Moore was wakened by a sharp tap on his door. ‘Who the devil is it at this hour?’ he roared.

‘Someone to see you, General,’ replied the major-domo, in an unnaturally controlled voice.

Ill-tempered, Moore threw on a dressing gown. ‘Come!’

An extravagantly dressed older man with a piercing gaze bowed politely and declared something in Swedish, waiting patiently for the major-domo to translate.

‘Sir, this is Faltherre d’Ahrenheim, adjutant general of Sweden. He desires to inform you that His Majesty forbids you to leave Stockholm without his express permission. You are to remain here until the matter under consideration is resolved.’

‘God damn it, but he’s no right to detain me against my wishes!’

‘Sir, you are not a member of the British corps diplomatique in this kingdom and are therefore subject to the King’s wishes.’

Thornton hurried in, tousle-haired and with a set face. ‘Faltherre, should you carry out this act you will be seen to have made arrest of a most high-ranking British officer on a government mission and I cannot answer to the consequences if His Britannic Majesty’s ministers hear of it.’

‘The general remains in Stockholm.’

‘And if he does not?’

A meaningful look conveyed the answer.

Thornton remained with the ashen-faced Moore after they’d left.

‘You’re now under house arrest, you know that?’

‘Yes, but it does settle one question.’

‘Oh?’

‘The man is most definitely deranged and I was right to take action as I did.’

Thornton looked away in despair. The Northern Expedition was now in ruins, whatever lay in the future. And it was all the doing of this stubborn and unbending soldier. ‘I must consider this carefully,’ he muttered, and took his leave.