This Thing Of Darkness Read Online Free Page B

Skyring moved on to the warrant officers.
    ‘Bos’n Sorrell, sir.’
    Sorrell, a square-framed man with thinning hair, who looked as if he had been fat in a former life, was clearly eager to talk. ‘The late captain was a fine man, if I may say so, sir, a fine man. He saved my life, sir, and many others.’ He bobbed uncomfortably before FitzRoy, as if in need of an urgent visit to the heads.
    ‘Mr Sorrell was formerly in the Saxe-Cobourg , a whaler that was wrecked in Fury Harbour,’ explained Skyring.
    ‘The captain, sir, he sent two boats to row eighty miles down the Barbara Channel to look for survivors, sir,’ said Sorrell, sweating with gratitude. ‘If it hadn’t have been for him, I wouldn’t be alive today. A fine man he was, sir.’
    ‘Well, Mr Sorrell, I hope I will be able to live up to Captain Stokes’s many achievements,’ said FitzRoy. All except the last one.
    Coxswain Bennet, a ruddy-faced, flaxen-haired young man, was the final member of the welcoming party. He had preferred to keep his counsel throughout the previous exchange, and his blank expression, FitzRoy guessed, betokened an instinctive sense of diplomacy rather than any intellectual shortcomings. Skyring’s introduction of Bennet had been almost an afterthought.
    The formalities over, Skyring came straight to the point. ‘I’m afraid the damage below is far worse than anyone thought. The forefoot and the false keel have been torn clean off. A little run-in we had with the rocks at Cape Tamar. It’ll take at least two weeks to put right.’
    ‘Two weeks? My orders are to turn her straight round and head south again. The Adventure and the Adelaide are to leave in four days’ time, and we are to sail with them.’ A collective groan escaped the assembled officers. ‘Mr Skyring here is to command the Adelaide.’
    ‘Then it would appear I shall be leaving you behind. The copper bottom is absolutely shot to pieces and will need replacing. It appears you will be enjoying Christmas in Rio.’
    The officers’ expressions brightened a little. FitzRoy did his best to join in with the smiles, but levity did not come easily at this point. His first order as captain, and he would be unable to fulfil it promptly.
    ‘Shall we take the grand tour?’ offered Skyring, and motioned the others towards the rear of the tiny main deck. With the ship at anchor, the deck watch were mostly idle: sailors slouched here and there playing cards, or lay curled up asleep in coils of rope. They were a ragged lot, dressed in a battered mixture of slops and ducks, threadbare blue pea-jackets and patched-up canvas blouses. There was no singing, no laughter, no animation. These were hollow-eyed, exhausted, sullen men, observed FitzRoy, malnourished in body and soul. They observed him too, suspiciously and with barely concealed contempt. FitzRoy thought he heard the derisive whisper as he passed, ‘College boy.’ That’s all I am to them, he thought , a boy just out of scbool. Nine tough years in the Glendower, the Thetis and the Ganges mean nothing to them. I must prove myself from scratch. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps that is how it should be. I have experienced nothing like the ordeal they have been through. It is my duty to win them over.
    Sorrell blustered ineffectually, lashing out left and right with his rattan. ‘Look lively, lads! Jump up now! Make way for Captain FitzRoy!’
    The men shifted, but their movements were lifeless and perfunctory. After a few short steps the party arrived at Stokes’s new raised poop deck, in the centre of which stood a solitary door.
    ‘This is the poop cabin,’ said Skyring. ‘Captain Stokes preferred it to the captain’s cabin so he used it as his own. He built it himself, which may account.’
    FitzRoy lowered his head gravely, and stepped into the room where Stokes had died. It was cramped, extremely so, which was not unusual for a coffin brig: the distance from floor to ceiling could not have been more than