Beneath the Aurora Read Online Free PDF

man and the excesses of the night dissuaded him from taking too much of an interest in his report. He felt as weary that morning in the empty tap-room of the Three Cups at Harwich as he had at the Red Lion at Kirby-le-Soken the previous evening. He looked up as the latch of the door lifted and Annie, smiling at him above her unlaced stays and white breasts, led a stranger into the room.
    â€˜Tell your master that I want new horses in three hours and a dinner in two,’ the stranger said, turning his back on Sparkman as he took off his tricorn and a heavy cloak and threw them on a wooden chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. The newcomer wore a suit of bottle-green which sat awkwardly on asymetrical shoulders down which fell his hair in an old-fashioned queue set off with a black ribbon.
    â€˜New horses, sir, an’ a dinner, aye, sir . . .’ Annie bobbed and pouted at the newcomer and Sparkman felt a mean resentment at the intrusion, at the bossing of Annie Davis, at the little whore’s attitude.
    â€˜Put some more coal on the fire,’ Sparkman commanded, ‘and get me a pipe and baccy while you’re about it.’
    Annie flashed him a quick, pleading look which spoke of obligations and priorities not purchased with his single florin.
    â€˜A glass of black-strap, if you please,’ said the stranger, reengaging Annie’s attention, and she curtsied again, to Sparkman’s intense irritation. But before he could add to the catalogue of Annie’s chores, the man turned.
    He was about fifty with a high forehead from which his grey-brown hair was drawn back severely. His face was lined and weatherbeaten, though a faint, pallid sword scar ran down his left cheek. His mouth, circumscribed by deep furrows, was expressive of contempt as he regarded the dishevelled Sparkman from stern grey eyes.
    Sparkman’s irritation withered under the stranger’s scrutiny. He felt uncomfortably conscious of his dirty neck linen and the mud-stained boot outstretched on the settle seat. He lowered his eyes, raised the tankard to his lips. The fellow had no business with him and could go to the devil!
    Drinkwater stared at the slovenly figure, noting the blue coat of naval undress uniform.
    â€˜Lieutenant Sparkman?’
    Sparkman coughed with surprise, spluttering into his mulled wine in an infuriating indignity which he disguised in anger. ‘And who the deuce wants to know?’
    â€˜You are Lieutenant Sparkman, Inspector of Sea Fencibles, are you not?’ Drinkwater persisted coolly, drawing a paper from his breast pocket and shaking it so that the heavy seal fell, and unfolded it for Sparkman to read.
    â€˜I am Captain Nathaniel Drinkwater, from the Admiralty, Mr Sparkman. You wrote to their Lordships about a Colonel Bardolini.’
    Sparkman’s mouth fell open; he put his tankard down, wiped his hands upon his stained breeches and took Drinkwater’s identification paper, looking at Drinkwater as he sat up straight.
    â€˜I beg pardon, sir . . .’ He read the pass and handed it back. ‘I beg pardon, sir, I had no idea . . . I wasn’t expectin’ . . .’
    â€˜No matter, Mr Sparkman, no matter.’ Captain Drinkwater took the paper, refolded it and tucked it inside his coat.‘Where is this fellow Bardolini? In the Redoubt, I think you said.’
    â€˜Yes, sir, I thought it best . . .’
    Annie Davis came back into the room with a glass of black-strap on a tray. ‘Here you’m be, sir.’
    â€˜Obliged.’ Drinkwater swallowed hard. ‘No doubt you did think it for the best, Mr Sparkman, but I doubt Colonel Bardolini will be of so sanguine an opinion. Does he speak English?’
    â€˜Yes, very well.’
    â€˜Good. Where is this Redoubt?’
    â€˜You passed it, sir, just before you came to the main gate . . .’
    â€˜Ah yes, the glacis, I recollect it.