The Baltic Prize

Chapter 26

The next day Thornton was received promptly by King Gustav.

‘A good morning to you,’ the King said breezily. ‘Sleep well?’

‘Tolerably so, lying as uneasily as I did.’

‘Was I so hard on your man?’

There was only one card he could play. ‘It was rather my concern for Your Majesty that bore upon me.’

Gustav IV Adolf cocked his head. ‘How so?’

‘Should my government hear of this misunderstanding I’m fearful it could – possibly – impair the delivery of your next subsidy.’

‘What? Are you …? How dare you threaten me, sir? This is monstrous – if you seek to coerce me by such blatant means you’ll live to regret it. Do you hear me, sir?’

A monthly and a yearly subsidy was paid to the Swedes because, with the Continent cut off to their trade by reason of the alliance with England, they were in economic difficulties. Thornton had been reluctant to raise the subject, knowing how sensitive it was. But by doing so now his hope was that it would allow himself to be later mollified by the concession of releasing Moore.

The King ranted and raved, the small, ornate throne room echoing with his shouts. That the King of England would ever think to abandon his Nordic brother was a scandal, and who did he think Gustav IV Adolf was that he needed the bribe of silver to stand by his sworn objective to bring down the Antichrist? Much better would it have been in the first place to send a more respectful and intelligent general as emissary and commander.

Wearily, Thornton heard him out and returned to Moore. ‘I’ve tried. The Good Lord above is witness that I’ve tried.’

‘Then try again, sir! It’s not to be endured that I must be kept in idleness here while the world burns!’

The Northern Expedition was finished, but in the vital question of the Baltic trade, an even higher element now weighed in.

If by some means he could get Moore back to Gothenburg and on his way home, Admiral Saumarez and his fleet would then be released to set sail at last into the Baltic to confront the Russians and safeguard the crucial trade. It took precedence well before hopeless manoeuvrings about military assistance.

The King had to be accounted at the least irrational, and the sooner it was done the better. The alliance? It might just survive: Gustav needed friends just as much as Britain did.

The next morning the legation’s open carriage was seen calling at the door.

Oakley climbed in and Moore, with much ostentation, accepted his place next to him for a healthful drive to take the air. Sentries watched impassively – the two were in full view and Moore’s scarlet coat was easily recognisable.

What they didn’t see was the cursing figure crouched in the well of the vehicle suffering the indignity of boots resting on him.

The carriage clattered off, its high-stepping horses snorting and restless. It made a circuit of the outer perimeter, at the far point stopping to allow Moore to step down and admire the view before it swept on and finally returned to the door. The two occupants briskly descended and disappeared inside.

Once out of sight the under-secretary of the legation took off his red tunic and handed it over, task complete.

A gardener dropped a sack next to the figure hidden in the long grass. ‘Quickly, sir – this way!’

Moore rolled down the bank, threw on a dark cloak from the sack over his red coat and was led away. Thornton was waiting for him in a closed carriage – it had worked.

‘Neatly done, sir,’ Moore conceded. ‘And now?’

‘You’re free to proceed to Gothenburg – overland as will not be expected. Once there, you’ll present Admiral Saumarez with my dispatch, and I can promise you he’ll be heartily thankful for it. Goodbye and farewell, General.’