The Invasion of Sandy Bay by Anita Sanchez

Author:Anita Sanchez [Sanchez, Anita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-62979-180-7
Publisher: Astra Publishing House
Published: 2015-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

Lemuel sat in the dark, crouching at the top of the stairs that led from the taproom to the second floor of the tavern, and listened to the loud tick of his father’s old clock on the mantel. The clock clanked and whirred and began to strike the hour. He counted the slow strokes, one by one, till he reached twelve.

He yawned; his eyelids were as heavy as if the hour were midnight, but it was only noon. Bright sparks of sun gleamed through the chinks in the shutters. He’d been sitting there for half an hour, but he felt as though several days had passed since the Colonel had stamped out of the taproom with a slam that shook the old tavern to its foundations. Lemuel listened, but all was quiet downstairs. The Colonel was safely gone.

He crept down a few steps and peered into the taproom, his face pressed against the banister rails. The British prisoners were huddled together on the floor or lying on their blankets, staring at the smoke-stained ceiling. Lieutenant Hurley sat with his head in his hands. The Gloucestermen were taking things easier now that the Colonel had gone off to post dispatches; they were lined up at the counter, talking and laughing over mugs of cider.

Lemuel cautiously cleared his throat, and Sergeant Archer, sitting on the floor in his still-damp red coat, glanced up and caught his eye. They looked at each other through the bars of the railing. Lemuel opened his mouth, then closed it again, unable to think of a thing to say.

“Well, lad,” said Archer in a low voice. “I asked you if your folk poured a drop on account. We owe your mother for a very pleasant sup of punch.”

The other prisoners were sitting nearby, deep in conversation. Martin looked up and gave Lemuel a brief nod, then returned to his muttered argument with Hill. “And then I told you not to put in so much powder, but would you listen? No, not you.”

“Lieutenant said to give her a double charge,” Hill protested.

“Only a feckless greenhorn like you would do it, though. Don’t you have any notion—”

“Silence in the ranks!” ordered Lieutenant Hurley. One of the guards glared across the room, and Lemuel withdrew into the shadows till the sentry looked away and resumed sipping at his mug.

“What do you think’s going to happen?” Lemuel whispered to the Sergeant, under cover of a burst of laughter from the jovial Gloucestermen.

Archer gave a ghost of his usual grin. “Who knows? Looks like a long war.” He shrugged. “No one at home’ll miss me, anyway.” The sentries glanced their way again, and one sat up and frowned, reaching for his musket. Lemuel retreated back up the stairs.

He sat on the top step and leaned wearily against the banister. He wished he could do something—anything!—but no matter how he racked his tired brain, he couldn’t think of anything useful to do. The ticking of the clock blended with the faint footsteps of the sentries outside the door and the murmur of the prisoners’ hopeless voices.

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