The Guns of Tortuga Read Online Free PDF

behind my uncle, I thought that M. Charles du Pont had an uncanny resemblance to a toad. He was short, with a flabby,round body, and had a wide, lipless mouth and bulging eyes. There was an oily slickness to him that all the embroidery and lace in the world could not hide.
    With him was a harassed-looking little man armed with a heavy ledger and a bedraggled quill pen. His murmuring voice droned behind the port admiral like a mayfly’s buzz: “Harbor fee … wharf fee … cordage tax … water shipage … careenage … victualing fee …”
    Ignoring him, Captain Hunter bowed politely, a fixed grin on his face. “Monsieur du Pont, we are in your hands. I’m Captain William Hunter. Welcome aboard the
Aurora.”
    The bulging eyes swiveled in the fat, round face. The man seemed incapable of blinking. He inclined his head a bit on his heavy neck and said, “Alas, you arrive at a most inopportune time, Captain Hunter. Tortuga is very crowded.” He waved a hand at the harbor, his thick fingers wiggling like sausages on a toasting fork. “You see the way the ships are packed in. Repairs may be”—he waggled those fingers—“unfortunately slow.”
    Captain Hunter’s smile had become so fixed, itlooked nailed on. “Well, that’s bad for us. We hit a … reef and stove in our bow below the waterline. We badly need to careen the ship to get at the leak.”
    â€œA reef?” M. du Pont’s blank gaze swiveled to our forecastle. Despite everything Chips had been able to do, it still showed damage from cannon fire. “Yes. Reefs can be most treacherous.”
    â€œWe’ll need new planking,” Captain Hunter said. “And I’m sure we’ll have to recopper some of the hull.”
    My uncle added, “And I need to buy medicines. To my shame, my medical chest is almost empty.”
    The bulging toad eyes swung back at us. I felt like a bug. Slowly, the port admiral’s pudgy right hand came up, and his clerk’s buzzing drone—“lumber … new copper …”—trailed off into silence.
    Looking my uncle up and down, but speaking to Hunter, du Pont said, “I take it this is your ship’s doctor?”
    â€œAlas, for my poor manners!” Hunter bowed again, as elegantly as he might have done before King James himself. “Monsieur du Pont, I beg to present to you Dr. Patrick Shea, ship’s surgeon of the
Aurora.”
    The lipless mouth smiled, which made Uncle Patch scowl even more. “So many ships that put in here have no surgeon at all. And are you well schooled as a surgeon, Monsieur Shea?”
    â€œTolerably well,” said my uncle. “I took my training at Trinity College in Dublin.”
    â€œImpressive. It is not often that a real doctor visits our outpost.” The port admiral’s smile grew wider, until it looked as if it were going to touch his ears. “Let us have a talk, Captain. I think I see in your physician here a solution to problems, both mine and yours.”
    The two men walked away, almost arm in arm, followed by the now silent clerk and his ledger, leaving Uncle Patch and me standing alone on the deck.
    â€œThere he goes,” muttered my uncle sourly. “And, by all that’s holy, ’twill be lucky for us if the smooth-talking Monsieur du Pont leaves us with a plank for our ship and a rag for a sail!”
    Three hours after the captain and du Pont had their talk, my uncle and I were in a carriage rolling through the rutted streets of Cayona, my unclecursing at each jolt of the wheels. “That misbegotten—never trust an Englishman, Davy!” he snarled.
    â€œâ€™Twas a fair bargain, you know,” I told him.
    â€œI know nothing of the sort!” he returned.
    I sighed heavily and leaned back into the cracked leather. Uncle Patch would rail against Captain Hunter until his voice gave out.
    But I was remembering