The Corvette Read Online Free PDF

leaves to her breast and to consume as many millipedes as her stomach could take in a day and the tumour was much reduced and the lady restored to health. Is that not a remarkable story, Captain? You are a married man, sir?’
    Drinkwater nodded wearily, aware that the clergyman next to him had let his book fall in his lap and his head droop forward.
    ‘Of course, sir, I knew you were, you have the unmistakable stamp of a married man and a gallant officer. My husband always said
    ‘
    Drinkwater did not attend to the late Mr MacEwan’s homespun wisdom. He had a sudden image of Richard standing naked after his fall in the Tilbrook while Susan Tregembo rubbed him dry.
    ‘
    But I assure you, Captain, it was not something to smile about. She died of smallpox within a month, leaving the child an orphan
    ‘ Catriona’s knee was patted a second time.
    ‘My apologies, ma’am, I was not smiling.’
    Drinkwater felt the coach slow down and a few minutes later it stopped to change horses at Hatfield. ‘Your indulgence ma’am, but forgive me.’ He rose and flung open the coach door, going in search of the house of office and, having returned, shouted up to Quilhampton.
    ‘Mr Q, we will exchange for a stage or two.’
    ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ Quilhampton descended. The new horses were already being put to and the guard was consulting his stage-watch. ‘Half-a-minute, gentlemen.’
    ‘Your boat cloak, Mr Q.’ Drinkwater took the heavy cloak and whirled it round his shoulders. He reached inside the coach for his hat.
    ‘I beg your forgiveness ma’am, but I am a most unsociable companion. May I present Mr Quilhampton, an officer of proven courage now serving with me. Mr Q, Mrs MacEwan.’ He ignored Quilhampton’s open jaw and shoved him forward. ‘Have a care for the instruments.’
    ‘Oh!’ he heard Mrs MacEwan say, ‘Honoured I’m sure, but Captain, the night air will affect you to no good purpose, sir and may bring on a distemper.’ The speech ended in a little squeal of horror and Drinkwater grinned as he hoisted himself up. Mrs MacEwan had discovered Mr Quilhampton’s wooden hand.
    ‘All aboard!’ called the guard mounting the box and raising his horn. He jammed his tricorne down on his head as the coach leapt forward. The blast of the horn covered his laughter. They had been less than the permitted five minutes in changing their horses.
    Above the racing coach the sky was bright with stars. A slim, crescent moon was rising. The mail was passing through the market-garden country north of Biggleswade and the horses were stretching out. He did not encourage his fellow outsiders to converse, indeed their deference to his rank made it clear that Mr Quilhampton had been telling tall stories. He was left alone with his thoughts and dismissed those of Elizabeth and the children to concentrate upon the future. He was pleased to be appointed to the Melusine even as a ‘Job Captain’, a standin. It was a stroke of good fortune, for she would be manned by volunteers having been in service throughout the peace. All her men would be thoroughgoing seamen. The officers, however, were likely to be different, probably place-seekers and time-servers. Influence and patronage had triumphed once again, even in the short period of the Peace of Amiens. Worthy officers of humble origins had been denied appointments. Melusine was unlikely to have avoided this blight. He knew nothing about Palgrave beyond the fact that he was a baronet and had been compelled to resign his command after being seriously wounded in a duel. In the sober judgement of Nathaniel Drinkwater those two facts spoke volumes.
    He shivered and then cursed the widow MacEwan for her sagacity. The night air and the cold had found the knotted muscles in his shoulder. Holding fast with one hand he searched for the flask of brandy in his tail-pocket with the other. The coach swayed as the guard rose to pierce the night with his post-horn. As he swigged the fiery liquid