The Turn of the Tide by Philip K. Allan

Author:Philip K. Allan [Allan, Philip K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: RO:NAV
Publisher: Penmore Press LLC
Published: 2019-04-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Summer

Major Fraser returned to Plymouth some weeks later and in his absence, full summer had come to the Devon coast. For most of his journey west he had been uncomfortably warm inside the crowded coach, and it came as a relief when the outskirts of the port began to crowd in on either side. The horses swung under a broad arch of stone and, with a final lurch, they came to a halt. The Scotsman pulled his coat straight and emerged from the stuffy interior, cramped and stiff, into the bustling yard of the George Inn. Grooms led horses to or from the stable block. Bundles and bags were handed down from the roof of the carriage. Passengers were being met with enthusiasm all around him. The warm air had tempted many of the inn’s customers outside to enjoy their drinks and pipes in the sunshine, and he found his uniform and eye patch attracting attention. He ignored the looks and instead breathed in the warm scented air. The smell of the sea came to him, laced with gorse blossom, wafting down from Rame Head. So lovely was the weather, and so stiff his legs from the journey, that he chose to walk the quarter mile or so from the inn to the Hard, from where he planned to get out to the frigate. A little later he found himself strolling down Bath Street behind a familiar looking sailor with a large, athletic frame. Under his arm he carried a sack.

‘You there! Would you be Captain Clay’s coxswain?’ he called. The man turned around, and touched his hat to the Scottish officer.

‘That I would, sir,’ he said. ‘Sedgwick be the name. I just been an’ collected the Titan’s mail from the port admiral’s office, like.’ He patted the sack. ‘Was you looking to return to the barky, sir?’

‘I was, indeed,’ the soldier replied. ‘I had planned to contract the services of one of the boatmen down by the shore.’

‘Oh, you doesn’t want to do that, sir,’ replied the coxswain. He pointed to Fraser’s scarlet tunic. ‘One look at your regimentals, and the fare would have tripled. They do love to fleece a Lobster something cruel, being ex-navy for the most part. Highwaymen ain’t in it! You had best come along with me.’ He picked up the major’s bag with his spare hand and led the way down the cobbled street, and out onto the quayside. The wide waters of Plymouth Sound opened up in front of them, blue beneath the warm sun. It was busy with small boats, moving this way and that. Flat lighters, laden with stores, worked their way down from the dockyard. Battered fishing boats with stained brown sails were streaming towards the open sea. Out in the Sound a line of yellow and black warships swung at anchor, each astride its wavering reflection. There were several ships of the line, massive and squat, while farther off was the long, low hull of the Titan, beneath her towering masts.

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