Battle Fleet (2007) by Paul Dowswell Page A

dangerous occupation open to me. I had mixed feelings about going back. I did notknow what I would find there. My childhood sweetheart Rosie, what had happened to her? Were my mother and father and brother Tom in good health, or even still alive? I had heard from them only once during my stay in the penal colony. I had written back telling them what a wonderful place it was – that was before things went wrong. I wrote again just before we left, telling them of our pardon. I had been assured the letter would be carried alongside official despatches and delivered in as little as six months, certainly faster than we would make it home.
    I didn’t want to go back to live in Norfolk, but I did long to stroll down those leafy lanes and see the joy on my parents’ faces when they first set eyes on me. The wood smoke and polish smells of home filled me with a sweet, almost painful, longing. To have my meals lovingly cooked by my mother, rather than some cursing, peglegged cook, who probably spat in the stew, would be something to look forward to. To stay in bed past seven o’clock and wake to breakfast rather than several hours of scrubbing the decks – that would be marvellous too.
    We were five miles off the Dorset coast when we saw them. Four souls adrift in a small boat – two men of middle years, a young woman and a child of three or four. Judging by their clothes, they were people of some standing.
    ‘Hove to,’ shouted Evison as soon as the boat was spotted, and we put the
Orion
’s cutter over the side and rowed over. What could have happened to these people? They all looked shocked and bedraggled. The child and one of the men were wrapped in blankets. We towed their boat alongside and hauled them up. It was a novelty to see these new faces after so long at sea with the same people. Lizzie and Bel were up on deck and went at once to assist the ailing members of the party.
    Evison came over. He spoke sharply. ‘Two of you are feverish. Why are you adrift at sea?’
    ‘Our ship was attacked by a privateer,’ said one of the men. ‘As passengers we demanded to be put over the side and allowed to escape. My companion and the child became ill while we drifted at sea awaiting rescue.’
    The man was ill at ease, and would look no one in the eye. Evison was swift to smell a rat. ‘No captain would give up one of his boats before a battle, nor set four of his passengers on to a vessel none of them knew how to handle. Tell me why you are adrift here, or you’ll return to your boat forthwith.’
    The man began to huff and puff. ‘You doubt my word, sir? I’ll have no man speak to me so insolently!’ For a second I thought he was going to strike the Captain. I was glad to see he did not carry a sword.
    Evison was unimpressed. ‘I’m Captain of this ship, and while you’re on my vessel, I’ll talk to you how I like.’
    But the man would not be cowed. ‘We are travelling to visit Lord Hatherley in Salisbury and I’m sure he will be most displeased to hear of our disgraceful reception.’
    Evison grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him over to the rail. ‘Are you a good swimmer, sir? You’ll need to be to reach the shore. Now tell me why you are adrift …’
    The woman suddenly spoke up. ‘Tell them, Burnley. It is wicked not to.’
    The man spat his words towards her. ‘I shall not be a party to my own destruction. You tell them, and you take the consequences.’
    We stood agog, waiting to hear what she would say.
    The woman looked up and spoke in a quiet, firm voice.
    ‘It is true we were travelling by sea to visit Lord Hatherley. But a number of the crew were stricken by smallpox soon after we left Poole. The Captain is in the employ of Lord Hatherley, which is why we managed to persuade him to set us off so as to escape the disease.’
    Watching her talk, I could imagine the arguments that had gone on in the boat as we sailed towards them and I admired her courage. She went on, her voice