Read Online Peril on the Sea by Michael Cadnum - Free Book Online

Sherwin in surprise.
    â€œMy master was the mountebank John Pourbonne. He was renowned for his sleight-of-hand marvels, and among these, sir, he had the power to make creatures vanish.”
    The toad, more than other amphibians, was considered to be poisonous. A toad-eater’s job was to hide the noxious creature while the magician showed that nowhere—not up this sleeve or even under this cap—was the vanished toad. “Madam, could it be the toad is here?” the magician would say, tickling a buxom goodwife under her ribs to a chorus of giggles.
    â€œMy master and I,” continued Bartholomew, “earned pennies by the bushel in Dover and Portsmouth, but he wanted a brighter future. He took a French name, and we thrived for a time.”
    Sherwin had seen mountebanks on market day throughout his childhood. He liked them, but would not trust one. He suspected they were quick-handed thieves at heart, and they sold elixirs that were thought to inspire love, conquer age, and cure poor vision.
    â€œDo they piss?” Sherwin could not help but asking. “The toads, while in your mouth?”
    â€œOur toad was educated,” said Bartholomew.
    Sherwin walked for a while, considering.
    â€œHow,” he asked at last, “do you educate a toad?”
    â€œDry him out,” said Bartholomew.
    â€œDo you prefer Captain Fletcher,” asked Sherwin, “to your imprisoned master John Pourbonne?”
    â€œJohn once made me hide a scorpion, sir,” said Bartholomew,“under my tongue. Captain Fletcher has made no such command.”
    Â 
    SHERWIN AND BARTHOLOMEW had hurried up by then to reach the sergeant and Tryce, and as they passed a puddle Sherwin took a moment to examine his reflection.
    â€œAs worthy as a magpie,” snorted Tryce, noticing Sherwin’s momentary indulgence in vanity, “like most gentlefolk.”
    â€œAh, Tryce,” chided the sergeant. “By my faith, you’ve all manners of mange.”
    The four of them approached a cottage not far from the sea cliff, a whitewashed dwelling with a broad door, heavily shuttered windows, and a thatched roof. Judging by the sharp smell in the air, there were pigs nearby.
    â€œI don’t know anything about swine,” said Tryce. “I imagine you stick a pig with a blade and it dies like any animal.”
    â€œWe aren’t going to steal livestock,” said Sherwin.
    â€œI doubt we are not,” said Tryce with an enigmatic smile.
    Tryce was the sort of man Sherwin had seen rolling casks into the wine warehouses along the London docks, and lounging outside Southside alehouses, scarred and suntanned, with an air of dangerous good nature. Sherwin relished the chance to know one of these men better.
    The four of them paused beside a head-high wall of whitewashed stone, surmounted by jagged flint rocks, a sharp margin along the tip of the barrier to discourage men like Tryce. Dogs not far away began to bark, theknowledgeable, communicative baying of animals fit for duty. A goose joined in, from somewhere unseen, a loud, brazen noise.
    â€œI’ll pay for the pig myself when we find one,” said Sherwin.
    â€œWith what?” asked Tryce.
    Sherwin realized that, when it came to ready money, he had neither gold nor silver, all of his possessions having gone down with the
Patience
.
    â€œI’ll reimburse you any debt,” said Sherwin, “when I am able to draw on my late father’s accounts in London. Or when I have been paid my share of the captain’s prizes.”
    â€œI don’t owe money,” said Tryce, “and I don’t credit any debts, either.”
    The lack of courteous, softening interjections was pronounced in Tryce’s manner of speaking, no
By my guess
and certainly no attempt to call Sherwin
sir
, as would have been proper.
    â€œI’m not going to meander the countryside,” said Sherwin, “taking advantage of innocent