Dead Reckoning by Parkinson C. Northcote

upon mere guess-work. You will realize, gentlemen, that I am very much in the dark and it may well prove that all my guesses have been incorrect.”
    â€œForgive me, sir,” said Fitzgerald, “Were you not tempted to intercept that outrigger craft with a well-aimed cannon?”
    â€œI was tempted,” said Delancey, “but I resisted the temptation. If that racing canoe is what I think she is, her movements will tell me something of what I need to know. My present conclusion is that the Subtile is ahead of me, not astern. That catamaran is sailing towards her employer, not away from him and that, I assume, is why she is in a hurry.”
    â€œI could wish, sir,” said Fitzgerald, “that we knew what message she is to deliver.”
    â€œBut is that so difficult?”
    â€œIt is difficult, sir, for me.”
    â€œPerhaps Mr Greenwell could tell us?”
    â€œNot me, sir,” said Greenwell, with eyes downcast.
    â€œMr Northmore?”
    â€œShe might warn Chatelard that the Laura is heading southwards.”
    â€œThat much is clear from today’s sighting. But the message almost certainly informs Chatelard that the opium ship Fort William has left Malacca and will call at Lingga and Palembang.”
    â€œHow can the French agent know that?” asked Greenwell, astonished.
    â€œHow do I know it?” asked Delancey in turn. “He will surely know what is common knowledge. So that Chatelard will receive at the same time news of a possible prize and warning of a possible danger. Can we guess from that what he is likely to do?”
    â€œSail for Palembang?” asked Fitzgerald hopefully.
    â€œI doubt it,” replied Delancey. “You forget that he will have other sources of intelligence and the news of other possible prey. I should guess, however, that he will keep away from the Straits of Sunda and will try to discover what we mean to do. We must expect to be watched by his native spies, including those we have seen already. But the point will come—and may have come already—when he comes to realize that a frigate has been sent to deal with him. What will he do then?”
    There was a silence and then Northmore said: “He might hide at his base.”
    â€œHe might indeed,” replied Delancey, “but that plan fits ill with the character of Pierre Chatelard in so far as it is known to us. I do not see him as a man who would hide himself. He is more likely to do something.” There was another silence as Delancey looked from one to another of his officers.
    â€œWell, gentlemen? What should we expect him to do?” Since there was no response, Delancey had to answer his own question. “Did none of you ever play hide-and-seek? If Chatelard guesses that we are going south to look for him he will surely decide to go north. Our heading for the Straits of Sunda will be his cue to make for the Bay of Bengal. He will be off the Sand-heads when we are off Bencoolen.”
    â€œSo your plan, sir, will be to double back and cruise off the Sandheads?” Fitzgerald was evidently relieved to find so simple a solution to the problem.
    â€œWell, that is one possibility,” Delancey admitted, “but it is not the alternative I prefer. Chatelard began his present cruise in late December or early January. He may go north again but my guess is that he must return to his base in May or June. If we can locate his home port that is where we shall wait for him.”
    When the party broke up Delancey realized how much he was missing Mather. Of his present officers only one, Northmore, had any brains and he, of course, lacked experience. What drudgery it was to help them see the obvious! Mather would have known at once what the alternatives were. Was his plan the right one? Who could tell? It was at least based, however, on a process of reasoning. Should he really have turned northward again after being sighted by that damned outrigger