Cut and Run: The Fourth Book in the Fighting Sail Series Read Online Free

have shared their concern, but was clearly considering the practicalities. “Father's money is spent, now it is our turn to maintain him.”
           Manning nodded silently, but she was not finished.
           “We have already accepted pay for the first two months of our service. Do we give that back? A berth aboard this ship might not be the best, but it will take time to find better. Really, we have little option.”
           “The surgeon, is he aboard?” Manning was addressing the boatswain's mate.
           “Aye sir, but he'll be asleep b'now.”
           “Asleep?” That seemed like the last straw. It was nine in the morning. He glanced back at King, carefully avoiding Kate's stare. “I fear you might be right, Tom.”
           “Been up all night with Clegg, one of the hands what 'as the fever,” Ward continued. “It finally broke just afore breakfast, and he said he could be left for a while.”
           “I see.” That was better. “When do you expect the captain to return?” King again.
           “This eve'nin, sir. An' we should be getting more 'ands afore long. Rumour 'as it a detail's a'coming from the Boreham , what docked last week. The old girl's to be condemned, so we'll probably get 'er standing officers, and a few of the crew. Me'be enough to make up the numbers.”
           “Right, well I feel we should make the best of a bad job.” King clapped his hands together and looked about. “We'll strike our luggage below. Then, I want to see all the petty officers. I'll need a full report on fabric, rig, and stores, both held and expected. We have the rest of today; what say we start to make some measure of order?”
           Ward's grin owed much to relief. “That suits me fine, sir,” he said, knuckling his forehead.
           King turned to Manning and Kate. “There's clearly a deal to be done, and I'm not saying I'm happy with the situation, but we may as well make what we can of it.”
           “I think you're right,” Kate said. “I can't see it getting any worse.”
           “Aye, an' if it does,” Manning agreed, “we can always jump ship.”
     
    * * *
     
           By four that afternoon there had been a mild transformation. Despite his appearance, Ward had a good understanding of what was needed, and actually seemed keen to sort matters out. As for the remaining men, the arrival of a proper officer and the promise of order provided them with the impetus they so clearly wanted.
           King walked out of the carpenter's workshop where two mates were freeing the blocks in a jumble of tophamper, and looked along the lower deck. He was tired. Several weeks had passed since he was last on board a ship, and this one, with her novel architecture and ramshackle state, seemed destined to wear him out. There had been so much to attend to; not everything was exactly in his domain, but all needed to be done. Word had come from one of the shore boats that the captain was due back aboard at any time, and King wanted to deliver a better prospect than the one presented to him that morning. He moved on, continuing his tour of inspection. In steerage, the cattle stalls were empty, as they must have been for a month or more. But, the lack of ventilation meant that there was still a distinct smell of the farmyard about the place. As a mate, King guessed he was berthing with the senior officers and better class of passengers at the stern of the ship. Steerage was for the juniors, and he was glad not to be joining them. A figure working in the near darkness caught his attention. King could hear the splash of water and the sound of brushing.
           “All well there?” he asked, walking forward. The man was on his knees, scrubbing out the stalls with water and what smelled like vinegar. He turned back and looked up at King.
           “Aye, sir. Just giving a bit of a scrape out; ain't been clean in ages. No