A Sea Unto Itself Read Online Free PDF Page B

waist.
    Millford cleared his throat. “We shall get down to business, shan’t we? If you would please seat yourself.”
    Charles moved to a chair at the middle of the table opposite the others, adjusted his sword, and sat. “It was I that requested this meeting,” the Captain continued, “so that, on behalf of the board, I may convey to you something of the nature of your orders and to emphasize the gravity of your mission.”
    Charles nodded his comprehension.
    “There are delicacies involved which may require both judgment and diplomacy on your part. I will be honest when I say that the board would have preferred a more senior officer, but none suitable was available.”
    Charles nodded again, tight lipped. This was not exactly a flattering revelation.
    Millford held up his hand. “No one doubts your abilities, young man. I have made inquiries as to your career. I find you to be more than generally competent, though on the occasion you have shown a disposition to act in a, shall we say, independent manner. I have read Admiral Nelson’s report on your actions immediately preceding the Battle of the Nile, for example.”
    “Sir,” Charles protested, even though he knew Millford to be at least somewhat justified. On that occasion he had ignored his admiral’s signals for hours, and in the end did not obey them at all. “I have always acted in what I considered to be the best interests of the service,” he said strongly. “If Admiral Nelson has suggested . . .”
    “Quite,” the captain said dryly. “I should say that Nelson has expressed himself admiring of your initiative. It is among these qualities which I find may recommend you for the task at hand.”
    “I see,” Charles said doubtfully, not at all clear on what that meant.
    Millford fingered an envelope on the table top by his elbow then pushed it across. “These are your written orders. You needn’t open it now; I’ll tell you what they say. Afterward, Lord Effington will provide additional background so that you may better understand some of the difficulties, if not the uncertainties, involved.”
    Charles glanced at the Viscount who was fidgeting impatiently with a pencil in his hand. The interview was beginning to strike him as somewhat unusual.
    “Captain Edgemont,” Millford said formally, “you are to proceed the instant your ship can be made ready to the port of Mocha at the foot of the Red Sea. There you will find a squadron under the command of Rear Admiral Sir John Blankett. Blankett’s purpose is to prevent the French in Egypt from transiting to India and fomenting insurrection there. I should stress that this is the fundamental intent of your own instructions as well. On no account may any French force be permitted to reach the subcontinent. The situation in India hangs on a knife’s edge as it is, with local uprisings an ever present threat.”
    Millford coughed into his hand and then continued. “You will also call at Cape Town, in the course of your journey to take on board a certain agent employed on our behalf. You are ordered to provide transport to the head of the Red Sea, and afterward render such assistance as may be required. Is that much clear?”
    Charles hesitated. His orders were straightforward enough, so much so that he didn’t understand why the Admiralty felt it necessary to explain them in person. He did have one question: “Am I to be under Admiral Blankett’s orders, or the Admiralty’s?”
    The Captain steepled his fingers in front of him, then spoke with what Charles took to be unusual care. “The board has considered this very question at length. The answer is that you will be under Admiralty orders until such time as the agent mentioned has completed his mission. When that is accomplished, you will place yourself at Blankett’s disposal. As he is the senior officer on the scene, it is felt that it can hardly be otherwise.” Millford leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “If I may speak