Sails on the Horizon: A Novel of the Napoleonic Wars Read Online Free PDF

managed, half-rising. “I, we, were only doing our duty. We had no choice.”
    “Sit, sit,” Collingwood said, motioning impatiently with his hands. “No choice but to do your duty, of course. England expects no less. Your modesty becomes you.” Collingwood paused and looked around at the desolation around him. “What assistance can I offer? Men, supplies—you have only to ask.”
    The surgeon applied a poultice and then began winding a long, once-white bandage around his patient’s head. Charles used the diversion to think as rapidly as he could. He hardly knew where to start. On the other hand, he didn’t want to appear unable to manage his ship. “I’d be very grateful for any support,” he said carefully. “I’m sure our able surgeon here is overwhelmed and would welcome help.”
    “I’ll see to it immediately,” Collingwood responded, half-bowing. “You’re sure that’s all? You’re sure?” When Charles nodded, he said, “Yes, well, I must return; I have matters to attend to on my own ship. I’ll have our doctor sent over as soon as he’s free. Again, my heartiest congratulations on your success, Mr. Edgemont. The navy needs more officers like yourself, and you may rest assured that I will mention it to the admiral.” He started to depart, then momentarily turned back. “Oh, yes, I almost forgot. The Excellent has taken possession of your two prizes. We will be more than happy to send them on for you.”
    “Prizes?” Charles said. “What prizes?”
    “The two Spanish seventy-fours, of course, the San Ysidro and San Antonio. They struck to you, did they not?”
    “I don’t know, sir,” Charles answered. “I was too busy to notice.”
    “Well, I noticed,” Collingwood said warmly, “and I’ll personally see you get credit for them. Good day to you, sir.”
    As Excellent ’s gig pulled away, Bevan turned to Charles and said, with a sense of awe in his voice, “Well, fancy that—Collingwood himself.”
    Before Collingwood’s barge had returned to the Excellent, Charles saw a second boat approaching Argonaut ’s entry port. After a moment, two elegantly dressed naval officers, one about Charles’s age and wearing the single epaulette of a naval commander, the other somewhat older and shorter with a commodore’s stripe on his sleeve, climbed up onto the deck. Charles recognized the slight, almost delicate-featured older man immediately as the one who had waved to him from the deck of the San Josef. He did not know who the man was, but sensed that he was someone unusually significant when he heard Bevan’s sharp intake of breath beside him.
    “Who?” Charles asked softly as the two men crossed toward them.
    “Captain Nelson,” Bevan whispered, standing rigidly erect. Charles immediately struggled unsteadily to his feet. He had heard of Nelson; everyone had. Some said he was the most aggressive and brilliant captain in the British navy. Others, and Charles had heard it often from less successful officers, his own Captain Wood among them, were of the opinion that much of Nelson’s fame was empty talk, inspired by the man himself to enhance his own reputation.
    The two men quickly crossed the quarterdeck and stopped in front of Charles. “At last we meet in person,” the commodore said with genuine warmth. “I am Horatio Nelson, and this is my friend, Commander Edward Berry. I beg to know your name, sir.” The voice was calm, slightly high-pitched, authoritative.
    “Lieutenant Charles Edgemont, sir, second on the Argonaut and acting commander,” Charles said with a tentative bow. “And this is Lieutenant Daniel Bevan, third and acting first.”
    “Your servant, sir,” Bevan managed, touching his hat smartly.
    “Captain Wood?” Nelson inquired.
    “Killed by a sharpshooter, sir,” Charles replied.
    “Pity,” Nelson said, “but, just between us, not all that much of a loss. Wood was a bit shy when it came to battle, if you ask me. Still, he met his end like a man.