Read Online Under Enemy Colors by Sean Thomas Russell, Sean Russell, S. Thomas Russell - Free Book Online

lieutenant in the same capacity and seemed to know his duties tolerably well. A “writer” was also assigned to him: a young Irish boy with the unlikely name of Perseverance Gilhooly. He was known as Perse, and seemed too alert for his station in life.
    As Hayden was arranging his cabin, a space about eight feet square, there came a knock at the open door.
    “Ah, Mr Hawthorne,” he said. “Is there some service you require?”
    The marine lieutenant slouched under the low deckhead, at his hip a heavy book resting upon the crook of one hand.
    “I just wanted to report that I have stationed reliable men by the boats. No one will get ashore this night except they swim.”
    There were no women aboard that night, and no doubt this was causing some men to reflect upon the relative proximity of the shore. From what the doctor had said, he might be led to suspect the marine of being one of them. “Thank you, Mr Hawthorne.”
    But the man continued to hover outside the door.
    “What is it you read, Mr Hawthorne, if you will permit me to ask?”
    “ A Course of Experimental Agriculture , Mr Hayden, written by Mr Arthur Young.”
    “That would seem an interest greatly removed from the sea.”
    “It is my hope to have a farm one day, Mr Hayden, though it causes my fellows in the gunroom no end of amusement.” He hesitated a second, colouring a little. “I published, a year ago, in the Annals of Agriculture , a brief treatise entitled ‘Observations on the Practice of Keeping Productive Laying Hens at Sea.’”
    Hayden could not help but smile at this surprising bit of information, delivered with rather poorly concealed pride.
    Barthe entered the gunroom just then, appearing behind the marine, moving a chair as he made his way past the table. “Is he telling you about the great estate he will one day own, Mr Hayden? How he will apply principles of scientific farming to make a great success of it all.”
    Hawthorne did not appear the least offended but pretended to be put upon, rolling his eyes. “It is a terrible burden, Mr Hayden, the petty jealousy of the uninformed.”
    “It is the price of being ahead of one’s time. My mother’s family have extensive lands in grapes, so I have witnessed scientific agriculture up close, for good and ill.”
    Hawthorne gazed at Hayden closely, no doubt trying to see if it were true that he had differently coloured eyes. “Not in England, surely?”
    Hayden knew the truth would come out eventually; the service was a paradise for gossips. “France, Mr Hawthorne.”
    “France…” the marine echoed, clearly caught aback.
    “A large nation beyond the English Channel, Mr Hawthorne,” Barthe observed as he stepped into his cabin. “Most recently they’ve had a revolution. Have you not heard?” The master’s cabin door ticked closed, obscuring a wicked smile.
    Hawthorne laughed to hide his embarrassment. “You’re half-French, then, Mr Hayden?”
    “That’s right, but I am an Englishman at heart. My father was a post captain in the King’s Navy.”
    “It was not my intention to question your loyalties, Mr Hayden. If it seemed so I do apologize.”
    “No need, Mr Hawthorne; it is me that feels an explanation is required.”
    Hawthorne made a small bow of acknowledgement and continued to stand outside Hayden’s door, clearly uncertain of what to say. Or perhaps he had intended to tell Hayden something more than the title of his single piece of published wisdom.
    “Is there something else, Mr Hawthorne?”
    The marine opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then smiled. “Nothing, sir.”
    The marine lieutenant slipped away to his own cabin, leaving Hayden bemused, wondering. Perhaps Hawthorne would say whatever it was he had meant to when he knew Hayden better—or so the new lieutenant could hope.
    He rolled into his cot some time later, but lay awake, listening to the burble and cant of water, to a small breeze whispering among the shrouds.

Five
    H ayden woke to a distant