Dawn on a Distant Shore
Page 118
"Hannah has gone to take her leave from the Hakim," Curiosity said, taking a platter of bread and meat from him to put it on the table. "But I suppose Sally can bide a while out on the gallery. Now, you got any news for us?"
Charlie was full of news, and eager to share it: four excisemen had come on board, the first barges had already been loaded, and there was a report of the war with France and America--a huge sea battle and another victory for the Royal Navy's Atlantic fleet.
"America?" Nathaniel spoke more harshly than he meant to, and the boy jumped.
"Surely not, Charlie." Elizabeth looked up from the baby in her arms. "England is not at war with America."
Charlie bobbed his head so hard that his hair flopped into his eyes. "The Americans were trying to run the British blockade, missus, on account of the great hunger. A whole convoy of them loaded wi' corn. But the English chased them off awa hame, and made short work o' the French Navy what meant to protect them."
"Not war, then," Elizabeth said.
"Not yet," said Curiosity. "But it don't sound good. The sooner we get home, the better."
Nathaniel caught Elizabeth's gaze and he shook his head slightly; he wasn't ready to discuss the situation, and certainly not in front of the boy.
But Charlie took no note, so wound up was he in the rest of his news: a Manx smuggler had gone aground just south of the Southerness lighthouse and could be seen there plainly, listing hard. "The crew is still trapped on board, and they're armed. The excisemen have called out the dragoons from Dumfries," he finished. "They'll drag the whole lot off to gaol, wait and see."
Curiosity raised her head from her food and slanted a grim look in Nathaniel's direction.
The morning wore on and Nathaniel paced the cabin until even Elizabeth's patience had been tried beyond endurance.
"For heaven's sake, go up on deck," she said finally. "Take your son with you. Perhaps it will improve both your moods." She thrust Daniel into his arms.
The baby had been fussing all morning, but he stopped in mid-grizzle and gave his father a wide-mouthed grin.
"You see?" she said.
"It's got nothing to do with a bad mood, Boots," Nathaniel protested. "I'm just on edge, and so is he."
Hannah looked up from the basket she was filling. "He's on edge because you are, Da. He takes his mood from you."
As if to prove his sister right, Daniel settled against Nathaniel's shoulder with a satisfied grunt, pleased to have finally landed where he wanted to be. Nathaniel was in the habit of studying the baby, trying to find some trace of himself in his eyes or jaw or the rise of his forehead, just as he looked for Elizabeth in Lily's face. Now he wondered if he had been concentrating on the wrong things.
"He'll settle down if you walk him," said Curiosity.
"In the fresh air," added Elizabeth.
He laughed. "There's no arguing with the three of you." What he didn't say was, he was glad to have the excuse to go up on deck. There was a lot to think through, and he thought best while he was walking.
Nathaniel opened the door to find two redcoats waiting on the other side, muskets crossed and at the ready. Solidly built men, professional soldiers who held their weapons with the same affectionate ease that he held his son.
"Sir," the larger one snapped. Beneath the brim of his hat his gaze was brittle, his mouth hard set. Swollen red fingers clenched tight on the barrel of the musket. The second man was a head shorter, but cut from the same mold--the kind who liked confrontation, and was always looking for an excuse to unsheath his bayonet. Daniel took his thumb out of his mouth to stare at them, not in fear but interest.
"Who is it, Nathaniel?" Elizabeth came to the door with Lily in her arms.
Nathaniel answered her without looking away from the soldiers. "Redcoats. Looks like Moncrieff don't want us up on deck. Ain't that right?"
"Our orders are to see that no one leaves this cabin."
The smaller soldier had an egg-round head on a massive neck. Both men stood with legs stemmed against the roll of the ship, and Nathaniel knew that even armed he would have little chance of forcing his way through. Certainly there was nothing he could do with Daniel on his arm.
He said, "I want to see Pickering."
The bigger redcoat thrust out his chin thoughtfully. "We'll send word, sir."
"I want to see him now."
"No doubt you do, sir. But the gentlemen are occupied."
Nathaniel shut the door in their smirking faces.
"I feared as much," said Curiosity.
Elizabeth said nothing, but her expression was drawn and tense. He touched her shoulder.
"What are you going to do?" Hannah asked as she took Daniel from him. The baby began to fuss in protest, and she jiggled him on her hip.
"I'm going to see Pickering."
Nathaniel opened the door out to the gallery and the sea air rolled in, cool even in June. He put his hands on the carved balustrade and leaned out, craning his head upward to measure the distance to the gallery overhead, the one off the cabins Giselle Somerville had occupied. Behind him, Elizabeth said, "You cannot be serious."
"There's nothing to it, Boots. I was climbing bigger trees when I was Hannah's age. And so were you, according to your aunt Merriweather."
She let out a harsh laugh. "Don't try to mollify me, Nathaniel. Trees do not buck like a horse when you climb them."
Charlie was full of news, and eager to share it: four excisemen had come on board, the first barges had already been loaded, and there was a report of the war with France and America--a huge sea battle and another victory for the Royal Navy's Atlantic fleet.
"America?" Nathaniel spoke more harshly than he meant to, and the boy jumped.
"Surely not, Charlie." Elizabeth looked up from the baby in her arms. "England is not at war with America."
Charlie bobbed his head so hard that his hair flopped into his eyes. "The Americans were trying to run the British blockade, missus, on account of the great hunger. A whole convoy of them loaded wi' corn. But the English chased them off awa hame, and made short work o' the French Navy what meant to protect them."
"Not war, then," Elizabeth said.
"Not yet," said Curiosity. "But it don't sound good. The sooner we get home, the better."
Nathaniel caught Elizabeth's gaze and he shook his head slightly; he wasn't ready to discuss the situation, and certainly not in front of the boy.
But Charlie took no note, so wound up was he in the rest of his news: a Manx smuggler had gone aground just south of the Southerness lighthouse and could be seen there plainly, listing hard. "The crew is still trapped on board, and they're armed. The excisemen have called out the dragoons from Dumfries," he finished. "They'll drag the whole lot off to gaol, wait and see."
Curiosity raised her head from her food and slanted a grim look in Nathaniel's direction.
The morning wore on and Nathaniel paced the cabin until even Elizabeth's patience had been tried beyond endurance.
"For heaven's sake, go up on deck," she said finally. "Take your son with you. Perhaps it will improve both your moods." She thrust Daniel into his arms.
The baby had been fussing all morning, but he stopped in mid-grizzle and gave his father a wide-mouthed grin.
"You see?" she said.
"It's got nothing to do with a bad mood, Boots," Nathaniel protested. "I'm just on edge, and so is he."
Hannah looked up from the basket she was filling. "He's on edge because you are, Da. He takes his mood from you."
As if to prove his sister right, Daniel settled against Nathaniel's shoulder with a satisfied grunt, pleased to have finally landed where he wanted to be. Nathaniel was in the habit of studying the baby, trying to find some trace of himself in his eyes or jaw or the rise of his forehead, just as he looked for Elizabeth in Lily's face. Now he wondered if he had been concentrating on the wrong things.
"He'll settle down if you walk him," said Curiosity.
"In the fresh air," added Elizabeth.
He laughed. "There's no arguing with the three of you." What he didn't say was, he was glad to have the excuse to go up on deck. There was a lot to think through, and he thought best while he was walking.
Nathaniel opened the door to find two redcoats waiting on the other side, muskets crossed and at the ready. Solidly built men, professional soldiers who held their weapons with the same affectionate ease that he held his son.
"Sir," the larger one snapped. Beneath the brim of his hat his gaze was brittle, his mouth hard set. Swollen red fingers clenched tight on the barrel of the musket. The second man was a head shorter, but cut from the same mold--the kind who liked confrontation, and was always looking for an excuse to unsheath his bayonet. Daniel took his thumb out of his mouth to stare at them, not in fear but interest.
"Who is it, Nathaniel?" Elizabeth came to the door with Lily in her arms.
Nathaniel answered her without looking away from the soldiers. "Redcoats. Looks like Moncrieff don't want us up on deck. Ain't that right?"
"Our orders are to see that no one leaves this cabin."
The smaller soldier had an egg-round head on a massive neck. Both men stood with legs stemmed against the roll of the ship, and Nathaniel knew that even armed he would have little chance of forcing his way through. Certainly there was nothing he could do with Daniel on his arm.
He said, "I want to see Pickering."
The bigger redcoat thrust out his chin thoughtfully. "We'll send word, sir."
"I want to see him now."
"No doubt you do, sir. But the gentlemen are occupied."
Nathaniel shut the door in their smirking faces.
"I feared as much," said Curiosity.
Elizabeth said nothing, but her expression was drawn and tense. He touched her shoulder.
"What are you going to do?" Hannah asked as she took Daniel from him. The baby began to fuss in protest, and she jiggled him on her hip.
"I'm going to see Pickering."
Nathaniel opened the door out to the gallery and the sea air rolled in, cool even in June. He put his hands on the carved balustrade and leaned out, craning his head upward to measure the distance to the gallery overhead, the one off the cabins Giselle Somerville had occupied. Behind him, Elizabeth said, "You cannot be serious."
"There's nothing to it, Boots. I was climbing bigger trees when I was Hannah's age. And so were you, according to your aunt Merriweather."
She let out a harsh laugh. "Don't try to mollify me, Nathaniel. Trees do not buck like a horse when you climb them."
