The Gathering Storm Read Online Free PDF Page B

Outraged.
    'Self-approval is his fault, sir. Self-approval and damned
self-pitying pride. Many men lose sons, sir. Life is fraught
with such peril. But they do not then lie down to sulk and
snivel in defeat. They lift up their heads, and behave manly,
and courageous. That is how they may father other sons, and
rise to their responsibilities.'
    'Well, sir,' Rennie kept his temper, 'well, you was not
there to see how hard the blow fell upon him. Men are not
all the same—'
    'Pish posh, Captain Rennie. You will like to make excuses
for the fellow because he is your friend. His behaviour is
very reprehensible, very foolish and weak.'
    Tears of rage pricked Rennie's eyes, but he held himself
in. The admiral grimaced and gave a furious sigh, throwing
up his hands.
    'However – if he will not return, he will not. I have done
everything that is in my power to help him. I shall write to
Their Lordships immediate. His ship will go to another officer.'
    'I cannot argue with you, sir.' Rennie, angry and sad,
conceding the inevitable.
    The admiral looked at him, and in spite of his contempt
for what Rennie's friend had done, he could not find it in
him to blame Rennie any more. Rennie perhaps lacked certain
qualities of imagination, but he had stood loyal by his friend,
whose faults were not his own. The admiral relented.
    'Very well, Captain Rennie. He is your friend, whatever
his failings, and I will not like to say any more against him
in your presence.'
    'That is kind in you, sir.' Surprised.
    'I am not kind, you know. I am merely trying to be –
gentlemanlike.'
    'It is the same thing, in a way – ain't it?'
    'Hm. Perhaps.'
    Rennie made his back straight, and:
    'Good day to you, Admiral.'
    'Good day, Captain Rennie.'
    Rennie walked stiffly to the admiral's door, put on his
hat thwartwise and settled it firm on his head. He went
down the stair to the entrance, and out into sunlight and
the sharp fragrances of the Portsmouth air: dung, tar, tide.
He breathed them in, and was restored.
    Captain Rennie had met his wife Sylvia on an overnight
coach journey between Norwich and London. She was then
Sylvia Townend, a naval widow, and he had been able to
be of some service to her. They had later renewed their
acquaintance at Porstmouth, where she was staying with
her sister, and had grown fond of each other. There had
then occurred – not by his making – a diversion of their
paths. Subsequently, when he returned to his home at
Middingham in Norfolk, Rennie learned that she was
staying nearby, had at once sought her out and proposed,
and had been accepted.
    At first glance, seen together emerging from the Marine
Hotel, or walking down the High, they did not make a
very likely pair. Rennie was spare, his face and forehead
were lined, he looked older than his thirty-six years, and
could not be described as handsome. His wife was very
comely, with a fine figure, and a hint of the voluptuous in
her eyes and mouth; she chose her dresses and bonnets
with care, and was always handsome in appearance. Had
he not been dressed in the uniform of a senior post captain,
Rennie could have been taken for a passed-over curate, or
an ageing clerk, faded, desiccated, resigned to his lowly
station, who had been permitted to walk beside the lady
a few moments to acquaint her with minor parish business,
or to convey a lawyer's message. Even in his naval
coat he did not look like a man with near connection to
his radiant companion. Closer scrutiny, however, revealed
an intimacy of glance, and conversation, and confidence,
that bespoke their condition of life. They were a loving
couple.
    When he returned to the Marine Hotel from the port
admiral's office, Rennie went straightway to their rooms in
the expectation of finding his wife.
    She was not there, and Rennie was disappointed. He had
missed her during the days of his absence in Dorsetshire,
and there was much he wished to say to her. He had thought
it prudent to make his report to Admiral Hapgood as soon
as