A Sea Unto Itself Read Online Free PDF

we are going though.”
    “It don’t matter, Cap’n. She say you be reckless. One never know what can happen.”
    “I see,” Charles said doubtfully. With his servant following, he went out to find the carriage he had reserved. He felt a little like some Eastern potentate with his own immense bodyguard following on his heels.
    The hansom from Lothian’s trotted briskly down Albemarle and then St. James’s Street with its exclusive clubs and gaming establishments. Augustus stared from the window with intense curiosity as they passed. In front of St. James’s Palace they turned left along Pall Mall, past Queen’s Chapel, and through Charing Cross. Angling southward along the Thames, the driver soon swung his conveyance into the center of the roadway and then hard right to make the sharp turn under the archway into the forecourt of Whitehall itself.
    Charles and Augustus climbed down. After paying the fare, Charles dismissed the driver. “You may come along, but you’ll have to wait in the foyer while I do my business,” he said to his servant.
    Augustus nodded his agreement and the two mounted the steps onto the portico where a doorman made way for them to enter.
    “May I help you, Captain?” a liveried attendant asked, approaching from near a fireplace to the left and casting a suspicious eye at Augustus.
    “Edgemont,” Charles answered, removing his hat and pulling off his gloves. “I have an appointment with His Lordship. My steward will wait by the fire, if that is agreeable.”
    “Of course.” He gestured for Augustus to seat himself on a bench by the wall. “I am to inform you that the First Lord, the Earl of Spencer, is detained on other business this morning. Captain Millford is a member of the board. He and the Viscount Effington are expecting you. If you will come this way, please.”
    Charles knew of Captain Millford, a senior officer with a reputation for competence. The Viscount he had never heard of. “Who is Effington?” he asked as they started down the hallway.
    The attendant hesitated as if unsure how much he should reveal. “The Viscount is not a standing member of the board,” he said finally. “I believe him to provide certain ancillary services on the occasion.”
    “I see,” Charles said, not really seeing at all.
    The attendant approached a door to their left, turned the latch, and opened it. “Captain Edgemont,” he announced.
    Charles stepped into a brightly lit, high-ceilinged room with a long table placed in the middle. On the far wall was a globe of the world and above that a curious device with a face like a clock and a single hand, which apparently indicated the direction of the wind, currently wavering between south-by-east and south-by-southeast. Eight upholstered chairs were arranged around the table. This was the famous room, he realized, in which the board of the Admiralty met daily to decide the composition and disposition of the far-ranging British navy. From here, orders were issued for every decision, from promotions and appointments for commissioned officers, to the movement of great battle fleets. At present only two of the chairs were occupied, one by a middle-aged man in the undress uniform of a navy captain, the other, younger, in soberly tailored civilian clothing. Both stood as he entered. Charles heard the door latch softly behind him.
    “Captain Edgemont,” the naval officer said, coming around the table and extending his hand. “I am George Millford, and this is my associate, his Lordship the Viscount Effington. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
    “The honor is mine, sir,” Charles said and shook the offered hand. Millford was tall and gray haired, with a weatherbeaten face and firm grip. The Viscount presented severely lean, angular features. Charles thought he had hard eyes and a secretive look about him. He did not offer his hand, although the eyes measured Charles closely. “Your Lordship,” Charles said, bowing slightly from the