Admiral
Hollister, should he require me to explain – repair aboard his
flag and explain – why I have declined to obey his direct order
to the fleet to put to sea?'
'You have not.' Pouring chocolate, and drinking.
'You do not give it?'
'I do not.'
James gave a reluctant shrug, and composed his face into a
polite, reluctant grimace. 'Then, sir, you put me in a pretty
near impossible fix. I cannot, I fear, lie on both tacks at once,
starboard and larboard. It must be one or t'other.'
The half-smile now returned, and became nearly a full
smile. 'Yes, you put it nicely, Mr Hayter, I confess. Justly so.'
He put down his cup, and refilled it. 'You oblige me to go to
Admiral Hollister myself. It is some little time since I was
aboard a ship of any rate, leave alone a first. I shall look
forward to it.' He picked up the two letters, returned them to
their packet, and put the packet away in his coat. 'I must take
these with me, to show the admiral the signature and seal,
should that become necessary – the signature and seal, and
nothing more. Pray return to your cutter, Mr Hayter. I will
send word to you.'
'Very good, sir.'
And Captain Marles paid their bill.
Lieutenant Hayter remained aboard Hawk , far out at her
mooring, and no word came to him from Captain Marles. He
waited three days, during which time he exercised his great
guns, but did not fire them. His supply of gunpowder was
limited to the allowance designated by the Ordnance, since
he could not – like richer commanders – buy extra powder
from private contractors. Beside, he was at his mooring
among great numbers of ships. He exercised his great guns in
a punishing continuum of several hours each day, until he felt
that his guncrews, and his people altogether, were efficient in
the business of bringing a ship of war into such a condition
that would allow her to fight her weight of metal against any
opposing cutter, schooner, or even a brig sloop. In other
words, he would be more than a match for the Lark .
On the fourth morning, James decided that he must again
go ashore. His steward had not yet been found, and he meant
to find him. He would also seek out Captain Marles.
'I cannot wait upon Captain Marles's good intentions for
ever,' he told himself, and called for the boat to be hoisted
out, the mast stepped, and the sail bent.
He tacked through the assembled ships of the line, and ran
in to the Hard. From the Hard he made his way to the
Cockpit Tavern, and there enquired.
'Has a man called Butt shown himself?'
'Butt? Don't know no one of that name, sir.' The
innkeeper, sucking his teeth.
'Plentiful Butt?'
'Ohh. Plenty. Yes. Yes, we knows Plenty.'
'Well, has he been here? This last day or two?'
'No, sir.' With certainty.
'When did you last see him?' He paid for a mug of ale.
'Will you drink something, landlord?'
'That is right kind in you, sir, I will.' He drew off a measure
of brandy, and sucked down half.
'You have not seen him recent?'
'He will only come here when he is flush, d'y'see. You
might try at the Drawbridge Tavern.'
'At the Point? Good God, that is the worst den of
scoundrels in Portsmouth.'
'Aye, sir, I will not dispute that. Not that Plenty is a
scoundrel. It's just they will allow him a bed there, when he
ain't flush.' He sucked down the rest of his brandy. 'At one
time I would oblige him here – but he could not never pay
me, and I must pay my own rent, look.'
'Indeed. Thank you, I will enquire at the Drawbridge.' He
drank a mouthful of ale, left a further shilling on the counter,
and went to the Marine Hotel in the High.
'I will like to see Captain Marles.'
'Captain Marles? Oh. Will you wait here please, sir?'
James waited, and presently was shown into a small private
room at the rear, where he was greeted by a lieutenantcolonel
of marines.
'You asked for Captain Marles?'
'I did. Is he here?' Puzzled.
'Evidently you have not heard . . .' Looking at James closely.
'Heard what?'
'Captain Marles is dead.'
'Christ's
Hollister, should he require me to explain – repair aboard his
flag and explain – why I have declined to obey his direct order
to the fleet to put to sea?'
'You have not.' Pouring chocolate, and drinking.
'You do not give it?'
'I do not.'
James gave a reluctant shrug, and composed his face into a
polite, reluctant grimace. 'Then, sir, you put me in a pretty
near impossible fix. I cannot, I fear, lie on both tacks at once,
starboard and larboard. It must be one or t'other.'
The half-smile now returned, and became nearly a full
smile. 'Yes, you put it nicely, Mr Hayter, I confess. Justly so.'
He put down his cup, and refilled it. 'You oblige me to go to
Admiral Hollister myself. It is some little time since I was
aboard a ship of any rate, leave alone a first. I shall look
forward to it.' He picked up the two letters, returned them to
their packet, and put the packet away in his coat. 'I must take
these with me, to show the admiral the signature and seal,
should that become necessary – the signature and seal, and
nothing more. Pray return to your cutter, Mr Hayter. I will
send word to you.'
'Very good, sir.'
And Captain Marles paid their bill.
Lieutenant Hayter remained aboard Hawk , far out at her
mooring, and no word came to him from Captain Marles. He
waited three days, during which time he exercised his great
guns, but did not fire them. His supply of gunpowder was
limited to the allowance designated by the Ordnance, since
he could not – like richer commanders – buy extra powder
from private contractors. Beside, he was at his mooring
among great numbers of ships. He exercised his great guns in
a punishing continuum of several hours each day, until he felt
that his guncrews, and his people altogether, were efficient in
the business of bringing a ship of war into such a condition
that would allow her to fight her weight of metal against any
opposing cutter, schooner, or even a brig sloop. In other
words, he would be more than a match for the Lark .
On the fourth morning, James decided that he must again
go ashore. His steward had not yet been found, and he meant
to find him. He would also seek out Captain Marles.
'I cannot wait upon Captain Marles's good intentions for
ever,' he told himself, and called for the boat to be hoisted
out, the mast stepped, and the sail bent.
He tacked through the assembled ships of the line, and ran
in to the Hard. From the Hard he made his way to the
Cockpit Tavern, and there enquired.
'Has a man called Butt shown himself?'
'Butt? Don't know no one of that name, sir.' The
innkeeper, sucking his teeth.
'Plentiful Butt?'
'Ohh. Plenty. Yes. Yes, we knows Plenty.'
'Well, has he been here? This last day or two?'
'No, sir.' With certainty.
'When did you last see him?' He paid for a mug of ale.
'Will you drink something, landlord?'
'That is right kind in you, sir, I will.' He drew off a measure
of brandy, and sucked down half.
'You have not seen him recent?'
'He will only come here when he is flush, d'y'see. You
might try at the Drawbridge Tavern.'
'At the Point? Good God, that is the worst den of
scoundrels in Portsmouth.'
'Aye, sir, I will not dispute that. Not that Plenty is a
scoundrel. It's just they will allow him a bed there, when he
ain't flush.' He sucked down the rest of his brandy. 'At one
time I would oblige him here – but he could not never pay
me, and I must pay my own rent, look.'
'Indeed. Thank you, I will enquire at the Drawbridge.' He
drank a mouthful of ale, left a further shilling on the counter,
and went to the Marine Hotel in the High.
'I will like to see Captain Marles.'
'Captain Marles? Oh. Will you wait here please, sir?'
James waited, and presently was shown into a small private
room at the rear, where he was greeted by a lieutenantcolonel
of marines.
'You asked for Captain Marles?'
'I did. Is he here?' Puzzled.
'Evidently you have not heard . . .' Looking at James closely.
'Heard what?'
'Captain Marles is dead.'
'Christ's
Similar Books
