Stand Into Danger Read Online Free Page A

countryside before they could get to the launch.
    He turned his back on the defiant barker and faced up to the fighter. Near to he was even bigger, but in spite of his size and strength Bolitho saw only his eyes, each of which was partly hidden by lids battered shapeless over the years.
    â€œYou know who I am?”
    The man nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on Bolitho’s mouth as if he was reading every word.
    Gently Bolitho asked, “Will you volunteer for the King’s service? Join the frigate Destiny at Plymouth,” he hesitated, seeing the painful understanding in the man’s eyes, “with me?”
    Then just as slowly as before he nodded, and without a glance at the gaping barker he picked up his shirt and a small bag.
    Bolitho turned to the barker, his anger matched only by his feeling of petty triumph. Once clear of the village he would release the fighter anyway.
    The barker yelled, “You can’t do that!”
    Little stepped forward threateningly. “Stow the noise, matey, an’ show respect for a King’s officer, or . . .” He left the rest in little doubt.
    Bolitho licked his lips. “Fall in, men. Corporal, take charge there!”
    He saw the big fighter watching the seamen and called, “Your name, what is it?”
    â€œStockdale, sir.” Even the name was dragged out. His chords must have been mangled in so many fights that even his voice was broken.
    Bolitho smiled at him. “Stockdale. I shall not forget you. You will be free to leave us whenever you wish.” He glanced meaningly at Little. “Before we reach the boat.”
    Stockdale looked calmly at the little barker who was sitting on a bench, the chain still dangling from his hand.
    Then he wheezed very carefully, “No, sir. I’ll not leave you. Not now. Not never.”
    Bolitho watched him join up with the others. The man’s obvious sincerity was strangely moving.
    Little said quietly, “You’ve no need to worry. This’ll be all round the ship in no time.” He leaned forward so that Bolitho could smell the ale and cheese. “I’m in your division, sir, an’ I’ll beat the block off any bugger who tries to make trouble!”
    A shaft of watery sunlight played across the church clock, and as the recruiting party marched stoically towards the next village Bolitho was glad of what he had just done.
    Then it began to rain, and he heard Little say, “Not much further, Dipper, then back to the ship for a wet!”
    Bolitho looked at Stockdale’s broad shoulders. Another volunteer. That made five in all. He lowered his head against the rain. Fifteen to go.
    The next village was even worse, especially as there was no inn, and the local farmer only allowed them to sleep for the night in an unused barn, and that was with obvious reluctance. He claimed his house was full of visitors, and anyway . . . That word “anyway” spoke volumes.
    The barn leaked in a dozen places and stank like a sewer, and the sailors, like most of their kind, used to the enforced cleanliness of living in close quarters, were loud voiced in their discontent.
    Bolitho could not blame them, and when Corporal Dyer came to tell him that the volunteer Stockdale had vanished, he replied, “I’m not surprised, Corporal, but keep an eye on the rest of the party.”
    He thought about the missing Stockdale for a long time, and wondered at his own sense of loss. Perhaps Stockdale’s simple words had touched him more deeply than he had realized, that he had represented a change of luck, like a talisman.
    Little exclaimed, “God Almighty! Look at this! ”
    Stockdale, dripping with rain, stepped into the lantern light and placed a sack at Bolitho’s feet. The men crowded round as the treasures were revealed in the yellow glow. Some chickens, fresh bread and crocks of butter, half a meat pie and, more to the point, two big jars of cider.
    Little gasped,