Read Online The Launching of Roger Brook by Dennis Wheatley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dennis Wheatley
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released his hold on Roger and, turning, strode to the door. It was still unlocked and pulling it open he stared out into the warm darkness of the summer night.
A tall, bearded figure stood there and the Admiral’s eyes, already accustomed to the gloom of the conservatory, swiftly took in the knitted stocking cap, woollen jersey, leather breeches and heavy seaboots of his belated visitor.
‘E’en’, Cap’n,’ said the man in a gruff voice. ‘Hearin’ ye was back from the wars I thought ye could do with a keg of the best.’
‘Why, Dan!’ exclaimed the Admiral, ‘I scarce knew you for the moment, but ‘twas good of you to think of me. What have you brought us, brandy or schnapps?’
The smuggler tapped with his boot the little two-gallon cask that he had set down beside him. ‘’Tis French cognac, and none better ever came out of the Charente.’
The smuggling of wines, spirits, lace and perfume from France had been rife for the past eighty years—ever since Lord Methuen had imposed such heavy discriminating duties against the French that the British people, resenting them as an unjust imposition, had resorted to openly flouting the law and become ready buyers of illegal cargoes. For sheep stealing, a man could still be hanged and the sentences inflicted on poachers were often of a barbarous ferocity, but, despite the utmost pressure of the Government, no bench of magistrates would convict a smuggler, however strong the evidence against him.
The Admiral had now got back his breath and his good humour. ‘How fares it with you, these days?’ he asked. ‘Isthe old game as beset with pitfalls as ever, or are the Excise men grown slack?’
Dan Izzard shook his massive head and the gold earrings in his ears glinted in the half-light. ‘’Twas easier while the war were on, Cap’n. Most o’ the revenue cutters were impressed for the Navy then, but now they’re freed ag’in they’re doing their darnedest to put us down.’
‘So the war was good for business, then?’
‘Aye! Wars make no difference to the likes o’ us on either side o’ the Channel. An’ all open trading being cut off put prices up. ’Tis fine pickings we’ve had these past few years, but a man has to take his life in his hands to run a cargo now the fighting’s over.’
Roger knew Dan well, but although he was now standing close behind his father he scarcely took in what they were saying. He felt ghastly and the conservatory seemed to be rolling round him as distressingly as if it were Dan’s lugger in a heavy sea.
The Admiral stooped and tilting the little cask rolled it in through the open doorway, as he said: ‘Well, thanks, Dan. Look in and see me any time you’re passing, and I’ll settle up with you.’
‘Aye, aye, Cap’n, I’ll do that. But ’twon’t be for a day or two, as ’tis overlong since I made a trip. Good-night to ’e.’
As the door closed Roger drew back, fearing a renewed assault from his father; and he had good cause to do so, as the Admiral suddenly said with cold wrath: ‘And now, Sir, I’ll deal with you!’
At that instant Roger lurched forward, grasped uncertainly at the wooden staging on which stood several rows of pots, and was violently sick.
Baffled, the Admiral stared at him. He could hardly give the boy a leathering while in such a state. After a moment he turned away to bolt the door, and muttered angrily: ‘Oh, get to bed. I’ll teach you manners in the morning.’
Stuffing his handkerchief in his mouth, Roger slunk away and stumbled up to his room.
Having been up at four and it now being two hours past his usual bedtime, neither the tempestuous scene nor his unhappy physical state kept him long awake. After rinsing out his mouth, and sponging his face with cold water he pulled off his clothes and flopped into bed. Ten minutes later he was sound asleep.
From habit he woke soon after dawn and, but for a slight heaviness in his head, felt little the worse for his violent
A tall, bearded figure stood there and the Admiral’s eyes, already accustomed to the gloom of the conservatory, swiftly took in the knitted stocking cap, woollen jersey, leather breeches and heavy seaboots of his belated visitor.
‘E’en’, Cap’n,’ said the man in a gruff voice. ‘Hearin’ ye was back from the wars I thought ye could do with a keg of the best.’
‘Why, Dan!’ exclaimed the Admiral, ‘I scarce knew you for the moment, but ‘twas good of you to think of me. What have you brought us, brandy or schnapps?’
The smuggler tapped with his boot the little two-gallon cask that he had set down beside him. ‘’Tis French cognac, and none better ever came out of the Charente.’
The smuggling of wines, spirits, lace and perfume from France had been rife for the past eighty years—ever since Lord Methuen had imposed such heavy discriminating duties against the French that the British people, resenting them as an unjust imposition, had resorted to openly flouting the law and become ready buyers of illegal cargoes. For sheep stealing, a man could still be hanged and the sentences inflicted on poachers were often of a barbarous ferocity, but, despite the utmost pressure of the Government, no bench of magistrates would convict a smuggler, however strong the evidence against him.
The Admiral had now got back his breath and his good humour. ‘How fares it with you, these days?’ he asked. ‘Isthe old game as beset with pitfalls as ever, or are the Excise men grown slack?’
Dan Izzard shook his massive head and the gold earrings in his ears glinted in the half-light. ‘’Twas easier while the war were on, Cap’n. Most o’ the revenue cutters were impressed for the Navy then, but now they’re freed ag’in they’re doing their darnedest to put us down.’
‘So the war was good for business, then?’
‘Aye! Wars make no difference to the likes o’ us on either side o’ the Channel. An’ all open trading being cut off put prices up. ’Tis fine pickings we’ve had these past few years, but a man has to take his life in his hands to run a cargo now the fighting’s over.’
Roger knew Dan well, but although he was now standing close behind his father he scarcely took in what they were saying. He felt ghastly and the conservatory seemed to be rolling round him as distressingly as if it were Dan’s lugger in a heavy sea.
The Admiral stooped and tilting the little cask rolled it in through the open doorway, as he said: ‘Well, thanks, Dan. Look in and see me any time you’re passing, and I’ll settle up with you.’
‘Aye, aye, Cap’n, I’ll do that. But ’twon’t be for a day or two, as ’tis overlong since I made a trip. Good-night to ’e.’
As the door closed Roger drew back, fearing a renewed assault from his father; and he had good cause to do so, as the Admiral suddenly said with cold wrath: ‘And now, Sir, I’ll deal with you!’
At that instant Roger lurched forward, grasped uncertainly at the wooden staging on which stood several rows of pots, and was violently sick.
Baffled, the Admiral stared at him. He could hardly give the boy a leathering while in such a state. After a moment he turned away to bolt the door, and muttered angrily: ‘Oh, get to bed. I’ll teach you manners in the morning.’
Stuffing his handkerchief in his mouth, Roger slunk away and stumbled up to his room.
Having been up at four and it now being two hours past his usual bedtime, neither the tempestuous scene nor his unhappy physical state kept him long awake. After rinsing out his mouth, and sponging his face with cold water he pulled off his clothes and flopped into bed. Ten minutes later he was sound asleep.
From habit he woke soon after dawn and, but for a slight heaviness in his head, felt little the worse for his violent
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