This Thing Of Darkness Read Online Free Page A

the young man’s enthusiasm, he felt obliged to make a little speech. ‘Look here, Sulivan ... now they’ve sewn a couple of stripes on my sleeve, we shall still be the best of friends, of course — the very best of friends - but you do understand that it would not be fair on the other officers, the other midshipmen especially, if I were to show any sign of special friendship towards you? A ship’s captain eats alone, reads alone, even thinks alone. I have to be fair and just. I’m determined to do the right thing, Sulivan, the right thing by everyone, even if I end up the loneliest old man on the ocean. I hope you understand.’
    ‘Oh absolutely, old chap, absolutely. I mean, it couldn’t be any other way. It will be a privilege to serve with you, sir.’ Sulivan looked up at his new commander, and could only see everything that he wanted to be.
    By now they were close enough to the Beagle to hear the water’s slap against her sides, and to see the welcoming party gathering at the rail. Whatever Otway’s recommendations of surprise, King was not the sort to leave Skyring and his men caught unawares by the visit. FitzRoy could make out Skyring by his uniform now, taller than the others, perhaps thirty years of age, his face dominated by a Wellingtonian nose and topped by a shock of dark hair. As the cutter pulled alongside, the lieutenant’s leaning gait seemed to suggest that the fierce southern winds had left him bent permanently at an alarming angle.
    FitzRoy climbed gracefully up the battens, waving away offers of help, and shook hands enthusiastically with Skyring. His predecessor’s rueful smile indicated that no more needed to be said by either man, and that FitzRoy could consider the matter of his leapfrog promotion closed.
    ‘How do, Lieutenant?’ said FitzRoy, warmly.
    ‘Your servant, sir,’ replied Skyring. ‘May I introduce to you Lieutenant Kempe?’
    Kempe, a cadaverous, unsmiling man, whose teeth seemed to be fighting to escape his mouth, stepped forward and offered a calloused hand. On closer inspection the crew, like the ship, had a weatherbeaten aspect. Skyring had obviously done a good job during his brief tenure: the Beagle was freshly caulked, her decks white, her sails free of the tropical mildew that could take hold seemingly in hours - but there was no disguising the beating she had taken. Everywhere there was evidence of running repairs, in her rebuilt masts, repaired rigging and the fragile patchwork of her sails.
    ‘This is Mr Bynoe, our surgeon.’ A dark-haired, clean-shaven young man with a friendly countenance stepped forward and pumped FitzRoy’s hand rather more encouragingly. ‘At least, he has been acting as surgeon. He’ll be resuming his duties as assistant surgeon when Mr Wilson arrives,’ added Skyring, in wry acknowledgement of the parallel. A broad grin from Bynoe, to whom FitzRoy instinctively warmed.
    ‘This is Midshipman King,’ went on Skyring. ‘Midshipman Phillip King.’
    FitzRoy had no need of the warning, although he was grateful for Skyring’s gesture. The boy before him, no more than a child, was a scaled-down replica of Phillip Parker King. ‘I take it that you are related to the captain of the Adventure?’
    ‘He’s my father, sir.’
    ‘Your father is a great man and a fine captain, Mr King.’
    ‘Yes sir. He is, sir.’
    The younger King seemed harmless enough at first encounter, but this was an unexpected handicap all the same.
    And this is Midshipman John Lort Stokes.’ Skyring indicated a robust-looking youth with a military air and a correspondingly firm handshake.
    FitzRoy raised a quizzical eyebrow.
    ‘No relation to the late captain, sir,’ explained Stokes, briskly.
    ‘Mr Stokes hails from Yorkshire,’ said Skyring, as if that clarified the situation.
    FitzRoy breathed an inward sigh of relief.
    Further introductions were made between the two midshipmen and Sulivan, Stokes being deputized to show the new man the ropes, before