The Dragoons Club Book 5: Up the Orinoco by Grove M. S

Author:Grove, M. S. [Grove, M. S. ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PublishNation
Published: 2022-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Major Devereux returned within the hour.

“How was the reception?” Captain Dungroyd asked as Major Devereux walked into the cabin.

“Much handshaking and back-slapping,” Major Devereux replied. “The whisky was well-received as indeed was the sight of our letter from Señor Lopez Mendez. Their commander was Luis Brion admiral of the Venezuelan fleet. That sounds grand, but I believe they have just a handful of vessels. Any road they were grateful for our help in injuring the Spaniard.”

“I expected you to stay longer,” I said.

“We were obliged to curtail our convivial visit,” Captain Haversage explained. “As the wind was getting up and the glass was going down, notwithstanding that the gig is not the most seaworthy of vessels. I had no wish to be drowned on my way back from celebrating a victory.”

“Ah,” I said. “Do you mean that bad weather is the forecast?”

“We have gone from the sublime to the ridiculous,” Captain Haversage said reassuringly. “The glass is indeed falling fast, and I expect something in the way of foul weather in the next hour, or so, we will be under close-reefed topsails.”

“Better get my pukifying in early,” Captain Baxter said and stepped through the door onto the deck, presumably so to do.

“Are you still concerned regarding the Spaniard’s complaint?” I asked Captain Haversage in a rare show of concern.

“No, not really,” he replied. “Major Devereux has talked to me at length, and his argument is concise. We were initially run down by the corvette, they did offer us violence, we have a letter of marque, and Major Devereux was in command. Our response however bloody was indeed a pre-emptive defence, and of course, as has been noted, there are no survivors.” I nodded sympathetically. “And of course you will have recorded it all in your journal.” Captain Haversage left to don his foul-weather clothing to close reef his topsails and courses or whatever it was that needed organising to prevent our demise in the coming storm. I dragged out my almost blank notebook and a practically unused pencil. It was time for some creative writing. We were in for a very disagreeable day.

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