Until the Sea Shall Give Up Her Dead Read Free Page A

realisation.”
    â€œI will observe him most carefully, sir. You may rely on me entirely.”
    â€œI already do, Mr Archer. Is there anything else?”
    â€œThe small cutter has a touch of rot in the transom, sir. Mr Hale is seeing to it.”
    â€œAre you happy with your new carpenter?”
    â€œI am, sir. I shall miss Mr Chettle, but the new carpenter seems a good sort, if you can overlook his bawdy humour.”
    â€œI have overlooked greater things.” Hayden nodded to his first lieutenant. “Mr Archer.”
    â€œCaptain.” Archer touched his hat and let himself out, allowing Hayden to return to his accounts.
    â€œShakespeare,” he muttered. “Who would have thought it?”
    Over the sounds of sea and breeze Hayden heard a cry and turned away from his paperwork. By the time he had risen to his feet and pulled on a coat, there was a knock on his door. He opened it to find his marine guard and one of the younger hands standing just beyond—the sailor out of breath.
    â€œThe lookouts have spotted a boat, sir,” the boy said, making a knuckle. “Mr Ransome has sent me, sir, requesting your presence on deck.”
    â€œYou do mean a boat, Jackson, not a ship?”
    â€œMost definitely a ship’s boat, sir. Appears to be only a handful in it, Captain.”
    By the time Hayden emerged into the damp evening, dusk had darkened the sea and only a dim glow remained in the west, the sunset retreating rapidly.
    â€œWhere away, Mr Ransome?”
    The lieutenant pointed.
    It took Hayden a moment to find it, but there, upon the breathing back of the sea, a ship’s boat rose and then dropped out of sight.
    â€œHeave-to, Mr Ransome, if you please. We will take them aboard.”
    Hayden put his hands on the rail cap. Wickham appeared at his side with a glass, which he fixed on the boat, distant perhaps a hundred yards. Most would hardly take notice, but the midshipman had an awkward grip with one hand—the result of the injury sustained on 1 June. He hid it well, but his friends took secret notice.
    â€œHow many, Mr Wickham?”
    â€œI can make out only two, sir.” Wickham peered into the tube a moment more. “It would almost appear to be a Navy boat, Captain, but the men are not in uniform.”
    â€œWell, we shall soon know their story.”
    The occupants of the boat quickly revealed that the lack of uniform was not an accident. Although one shipped oars, he had only the vaguest idea of how they should be employed. He did manage, after a time, to lumber, stem first, into the
Themis
, causing every seaman aboard towince noticeably. The castaways required aid to board and then collapsed on the deck, both of them an almost unhuman colour and clearly horribly ill.
    â€œHoist in the boat, Mr Ransome,” Hayden ordered, and then turned his attention to the castaways.
    â€œYou are English,” one managed, slumped down against the hammock netting. “Thank God,” he said with feeling. “We feared you were French.”
    â€œOnly in the smallest degree,” Hayden replied, and then in Spanish, for that was, by their accent, clearly their mother tongue: “How long have you been adrift?”
    Hayden half expected, by the looks on their faces, that they might not answer and instead begin to weep, but the same young man spoke.
    â€œOne day only,” he replied in English, “but we were made terribly ill by the storm and have had almost no water or food. I am Don Miguel Campillo, Captain.” He put a hand on the shoulder of his companion. “My brother, Don Angel. We prayed and the Lord sent you. You are the hand of God, sir.”
    â€œI have been called many things, but that is by far the kindest. Charles Hayden, Captain of His Majesty’s Ship
Themis
.” He turned to one of the hands. “Water . . . and pass the word for the doctor, if you please.”
    A moment later the castaways