A Man of No Country by Philip K. Allan

Author:Philip K. Allan [Allan, Philip K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: RO:NAV
Publisher: Penmore Press LLC
Published: 2018-08-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The Kingdom of the Two Sicilies

‘This all took a deal of organising, I can tell you, captain,’ grumbled Sir William Hamilton, once they were settled in his carriage. ‘I had to exert my influence at court to the upmost to obtain an interview for you at such short notice. By comparison, arranging a passage back to Genoa for that sailor you picked up was easy as kiss my hand.’

‘And we are going to meet with the Prime Minister himself tonight?’

‘Yes, it is all arranged. His name is General Sir John Acton.’ Clay looked around from the carriage window in surprise, the beautiful sunset behind Vesuvius quite forgotten.

‘Sir John Acton?’ he said. ‘Am I to understand that the Prime Minister is an Englishman?’

‘Ah, well, that would be to overstate the case,’ said the ambassador. ‘Our negotiation might be altogether easier if he were. Sir John’s father was certainly English, and he is the heir to an English title, but he was born in France, educated in Lombardy, and has spent much of his life in command of the army of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. He left Leghorn when the French invaded last year, and is now Prime Minister here in Naples.’

‘Does he at least speak English, Sir William?’

‘Tolerably well, with something of a strong accent. His Spanish is better, and his Italian best of all, of course.’

‘Goodness, the Mediterranean does seem to be full men of no country,’ said Clay.

‘I am not sure I follow you, captain.’

‘I had in mind a sailor on board my ship,’ he replied. ‘An Englishman who is also a Mohammedan we found on a Russian ship dressed like a Turk off the coast of Portugal.’

‘Ah, I see,’ said the ambassador. ‘Yes, this part of the world is full of such cases. In a way, I am another one, don’t you know? I have lived here in Naples for rather longer than I ever did in my native Scotland.’

The carriage rattled on through the evening light. Soon the road began to rise up a hill and the pace slowed as the horses struggled along the cobbled street. Clay looked out onto a wide boulevard with well dressed pedestrians taking the evening air on the pavements. Along both sides of the road were tall walls relieved by the occasional pair of lamp lit iron gates. Between the bars, Clay had tantalising glimpses of the grand villas that were set back among their trees and gardens. At the top of the hill was an open square with a large fountain in the middle. High railings lined one side of the square. Behind them Clay could see a substantial building in white stone with bright light spilling out from its numerous windows. The carriage swung left and in through a well lit gate guarded by soldiers.

‘The royal palace, captain,’ explained Hamilton. ‘We shall soon be there.’ The carriage rolled on towards the building and the crunch of gravel replaced the clatter of cobbles beneath the wheels. They passed under a large arch guarded by yet more soldiers and came to a halt before an entrance.

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