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

were draining the dipper and then draining it again. Hayden thought the younger, Angel, might begin to sob and was controlling this up-welling of feeling with difficulty.
    â€œWill you come down to my cabin?” Hayden asked when they had drunk their fill. “I have called for the doctor.”
    Miguel struggled to his feet and balanced himself against the hammock netting. “Thank you, Captain.” His voice was noticeably less hoarse. “We have no need of a doctor. We are just ill from the sea. It will pass. You will excuse our show of feeling, I hope, but we feared we would never be found and would perish on this great desert of water. God has delivered us; He must have some purpose for us yet.”
    â€œAt the very least, I think you should speak with the doctor. May I help you?” Hayden enquired of Angel, who remained slumped on the deck.
    â€œWe can manage, Captain, thank you.” With some difficulty, Miguel pulled his brother to his feet and they set off along the gangway, brother supporting brother and hammock netting supporting both.
    Hayden thought them to be perhaps twenty years and sixteen or seventeen. They were not Spanish peasants, as the elder made very clear by his use of “Don.” Their dress was plain, but Miguel’s manner, though polite, showed not the least deference. His English was polished. The two were obviously related, though the older had progressed further into manhood and his face and form showed it. Dark, well made, not overly tall, serious, perhaps even wary, but then they were among strangers and had just felt the cold presence of Death lurking among the high-running seas.
    The ladder was negotiated with difficulty, and on the gun-deck they found Dr Griffiths waiting outside the door to Hayden’s cabin, a grey presence a bit more undertaker-like than Hayden believed was ideal in a surgeon. Inviting everyone to enter, Hayden introduced the doctor and then excused himself. When he emerged onto the darkened deck, the oceanic night had settled upon a restive sea.
    Ransome spotted Hayden and came over, touching his hat. “Did you learn how they came to be adrift, sir?”
    â€œNot yet. I thought it best Dr Griffiths see them before I made such an enquiry. I suppose it might also be polite to offer them sustenance before subjecting them to the Inquisition.”
    â€œWell, at least they should be familiar with inquisitions and know how to conduct themselves.” Ransome looked out over the sea. “I do not know if God preserved them, but half an hour later I doubt the lookouts would have made them out in the dark—they would have been left adrift.”
    â€œI agree. They are fortunate beyond anything one might have a right to expect.”
    â€œSuch is the fickle lady, sir,” Ransome observed.
    â€œLady Luck, you mean?”
    â€œYes, sir. It is best to leave as little as possible to chance, I have come to think.”
    â€œReally, Mr Ransome? You have chosen a damned odd profession for anyone wishing to leave little to chance.” Not to mention, and Hayden didn’t, that Ransome had a reputation as something of a gamester.
    Ransome laughed. “I chose it before I grew philosophical, sir.”
    â€œDid not we all . . .”
    Ransome nodded towards the companionway. “The doctor, sir.”
    â€œIf you will excuse us, Mr Ransome?”
    Hayden motioned for the doctor to accompany him back to the taffrail, where they might find some privacy. Here the wake of the speeding ship stretched astern, pale, jagged, apparently endless.
    â€œI do hope it is seasickness and not some pestilence?” Hayden began.
    â€œI believe it is nothing more, though neither gentleman would allow me to examine him more closely. They assured me there was no illness aboard their ship other than the common varieties.”
    â€œDid they tell you how they came to be adrift in the middle of a rather large