Killigrew's Run by Jonathan Lunn

Author:Jonathan Lunn
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781911591900
Publisher: Canelo Digital Publishing Ltd
Published: 2017-10-04T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

‘Boat ahoy!’ the marine sentry at the Ramillies’ entry port cried.

‘No, no!’ the coxswain of the second cutter replied.

‘Second cutter coming in, sir!’ the sentry called across to the quarterdeck.

Lieutenant Lloyd, officer of the watch, nodded. ‘Inform the captain that Mr Masterson has returned,’ he ordered one of the midshipmen standing on deck. The midshipman nodded and went below. Presently Crichton emerged on deck in time to meet Masterson climbing up through the entry port.

‘What news?’

‘The Milenion’s there right enough, sir, but there was no sign of Killigrew or the first cutter. The officer I spoke to – an over-smooth fellow called Colonel Nekrasoff – told me that the battery at Vitsand Sound had blown them out of the water.’

Crichton turned puce. ‘They opened fire on a boat sailing under a flag of truce?’

‘Nekrasoff claimed there was no flag of truce, sir.’

‘That’s a damned lie!’

‘I know, sir. But what could I do in the face of the fellow’s bare-faced dishonesty?’

‘Russians!’ snorted Crichton. ‘What more could one expect? What about the Bullivants and Lord Dallaway?’

‘Nekrasoff said they were to be tried for espionage.’

‘Dear God! Have these people no conscience?’

‘It would seem not, sir. What are we to do now?’

‘Do? What can we do? I know what I’d like to do – sail right up the inlet and blow Eckness to the devil! But we’re too deep-draughted for that. So we’ll have to take General Bodisco back to the fleet, and inform Old Charlie of what’s happened. Weigh anchor, Mr Pemberton! Lay me a course for Hangö Head, Mr Shearsmith.’ To reach Ledsund, first they would have to round Hangö Head, the tip of the promontory that jutted out from the south-west corner of the Finnish coast.

‘Aye, aye, sir,’ responded the master. ‘We should be able to fetch it on a course of south-west by west, sir.’

‘Very good. All plain sail, Mr Lloyd, course south-south-east. After ten miles, we’ll tack north-west.’ Crichton disappeared below, shoulders hunched in defeat.

By the time the ship’s bell tolled midnight, the Ramillies was under way once more, with all sails drawing. Lloyd took the logboard down from the easel and Adare replaced it with the one he had brought up from the log room.

Lloyd shook his head. ‘Mr Killigrew dead… I can’t believe it.’

‘Me neither,’ Masterson said grimly. ‘You heard what the Old Man said: these Russkis are nothing but a bunch of bare-faced liars. Colonel Nekrasoff told me the body of a British officer had been dragged from the inlet, but when I asked to see it he fobbed me off.’

‘You think Killigrew and the others might still be alive?’

‘God knows, Lloyd. But if he is, he’s certainly a prisoner of the Russkis… in which case, heaven help him.’

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