Pirates and Rebels
Nate rolled up a blanket and placed it on top of the hard wooden bench to soften the seat. He drug his newly modified captain’s chair over to the long table in the Hawk’s gunroom and continued to review the ship’s logs and records in spite of the pans rattling and singing coming from the galley. He smiled at Jasper’s attempts at seaman’s shanty songs and hoped his cooking would fair better than his singing.
He had
been looking through the ships books for nigh on four hours and the old bench
was taking its toll on his aft equipment. He stretched his arms and back, then
rolled his head around to get the kinks out of his neck and for what seemed like
the first time, he looked around the gunroom he thought, this
must have been one of the Hawk’s
first cabins modified for naval use. It was cavernous by most naval
standards. The individual cabin’s canvas walls, like all ships of war, were so
designed so they could be removed during battle to allow the gunners more room
to fight the ship. These walls extended from the larboard side out to perhaps
eight or nine feet and seven feet fore n aft. By far the largest cabins he had
seen on all but the largest ships and those were in the East Indian merchant
fleet. The starboard cabins were a mirror image of the larboard cabins. He
counted sixteen canvas cabins. Several more than any normal ship with a
commander as captain, he thought, then nodded approval to himself; no
matter who they were there would be no complaints from the
officers about their accommodations on this ship.
Normally a captain would never enter the officer’s sanctuary without first being given permission, however, these were extenuating circumstances. One deck above the gunroom sat the captain’s cabin which was cluttered with new drums of paint, tar, pitch, lumber and other items required for transforming the old merchant ship Hawk into a man of war. The shipyard’s plan called for the captain’s cabin to be the last part of the ship to be modified, something about special appointments for it. Nate questioned, what is so secret that the captain cannot be told what the plan for his ship would be? He reached under the arms list and pulled out the orders from Captain Culleton’s office.
He read the inscription on the front of the envelope.
“From: Admiral Sir George Montague”
You
are to report to Portsmouth and immediately take command of HMS
Hawk. You are further
required to assure the instructions for her conversion are followed to the
letter. Upon the completion of the lower deck, you are to dismiss the yard crew.
You will embark the officers, ship’s crew and warrants as they are assigned by
this office with the exception of two officers and one midshipman of your
choice. There will be 312 men and officers including one marine major, one
sergeant major and 32 marines. This
ship’s company will be comprised of British citizens of natural and foreign
descent. You will then move the ship to Fishbourne on the Isle of Wight where
you will complete the conversion with the assigned compliment of the Hawk’s ship’s company.
You
will take whatever measures necessary to assure that no naval or military
officer, nor any civilian is permitted aboard HMS
Hawk under any circumstances. The accompanying letter explains that you
are under Admiralty orders that take precedence over all other
orders concerning you and HMS
Hawk. This letter may be shown to validate their priority.
When
you deem the Hawk is up to naval standards, you will take on stores for an
extended voyage; then notify this office; then await further orders.
Admiral, Sir George Montagu
Commander-in-Chief
His Majesty’s Royal Navy
Portsmouth
Nate stroked his
fingers across his chin as he studied the orders. Three hundred and
twelve men to man the Hawk. He opened the flap and slid the orders back in,
then placed the envelope in his right hand desk drawer, drew the key from his
vest pocket and locked the desk. How mysterious, what kind of mission would
require us to have so large a crew?
A knock on the gunroom door startled him from his thoughts. The door opened slightly with Lieutenant Kent’s head poking through the opening. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but this letter just came for you.” Kent looked around the gunroom as if assuring the captain had not changed anything. He settled his eyes on Commander Beauchamp to find him waiting patiently for the letter Kent held out in his hand. “Oh! Sorry, sir, I thought it might be important.”
Nate took the offered letter turning it over to open it and saw the seal of Admiral Montague. He felt a presence and looked up to find Mr. Kent hovering in the same spot as if nailed to the deck but more in anticipation of some news his captain might share with him. “That will be all, Mr. Kent!”
Lieutenant Kent straightened with a slight shadow of disappointment on his face and turned to leave the gunroom.
“Oh! Mr. Kent,” Nate slid the letter opener down the length of the envelope. “It seems our crew will be chosen for us by the Admiralty with the exception of two officers and a midshipman.”
Lieutenant Kent turned half way back to face his new captain. “Isn’t that a bit unorthodox, sir?”
“Exactly what I was thinking, Mr. Kent.” He laid the letter opener down and pulled the contents from the envelope while looking up at his first officer. Pondering the situation for a bit, he then carried on. “At any rate it is up to us to choose the three,” and glanced down at the still folded letter. “I know of a Lieutenant Howard Foster on the receiving ship at the navy yard,” he lifted the top half of the folded letter and looked back to Mr. Kent. “He should do nicely if he is still of a mind to join us.” He opened the folded letter, spread it on his desk and began to read then stopped when he realized he had left the young lieutenant waiting. He smiled, “You choose the other two, Abraham. You don’t mind if I call you Abraham do you Lieutenant?”
“No, sir. Well actually I go by Abe, if you don’t mind.” Mr. Kent’s smile showed that he felt more at ease with his young captain.
“Good then, Abe, you may call me, Nate. That is when we are alone.” He waved his hand at the gunroom around them, “We may need all the friends we can get before this voyage is over.”
“Well sir, you may be right, but if I don’t go fetch us a couple of officers and a midshipman we may never get started.” They both laughed as Abe Kent departed the gunroom.
Nate continued to read the letter from Admiral Montague. Looks like I’m going to a dinner party. Nate pulled his new gold hunter from his vest pocket, flipped the cover open to see Virginia’s portrait starring back at him. Such a beauty, a man could do a lot worse than marry this beautiful woman and inherit a shipping company. I’ll have to give Squire Crampton an answer soon. He gazed at the watch face. Almost noon and I have much to do. “Jasper!” He yelled above the rattling pans in the galley. “Belay that mess and fetch us a coach. We have to get our dunnage to the George Inn.”
Jasper came aft
from the galley pulling on his blue jacket with it’s bright brass buttons.
“I be’s rat back, wid a carriage, suh!” He flew through the gunroom door
and raced up the ladder to the deck. Nate smiled as he heard Jasper’s light
tapping feet scurry across the deck and down the boarding plank. What would I
do without that little man?
*****
The coach driver pulled the team to a stop right in front of the George Inn’s door. Jasper jumped down from his perch adjacent to the driver, pulled the steps out and opened the coach door for Nate. Nate had removed his sword and placed it on the facing seat so that his ride to the inn would be somewhat more comfortable. He stepped from the coach and reached back in to retrieve his sword. He fastened the sword belt around his waist and turned to step into the inn and bumped into someone’s chest. His eyes were locked into the eyes of an older gray haired man with a bleached white complexion and cold blue eyes. The man was in some kind of fancy uniform. “Oh! Please excuse me, sir.” He backed up to give the man a way to pass.
“That is quite all right, Commander.” The man was in the uniform of a full admiral with all it’s gold lace and buttons. With the admiral was a smallish, older, thin man with spectacles perched atop his long crooked nose. He was stooped over with what appeared to be a slight hump on his frail back. A smallish man with coal black eyes and puffy red cheeks followed them. Nate’s eyes roamed from the admiral, to the man with the hump, to little red-faced man, and back.
He stiffened his back and gave the admiral a salute, “I am sorry, sir.” He returned his saluting hand to his side and stepped farther back to allow the three gentlemen room to pass. “I was not watching where I was going, sir.”
“Nonsense, Commander, we were engaged in conversation and not aware of your presence.” The admiral patted Nate’s elbow as they passed, “Good officers are alert to their surroundings at all times,” the admiral smiled, “that makes you and I both at error.”
Nate and Jasper watched the three men walk down the street until they turned at the first intersection. Jasper was the first to move as he approached the inn’s door, which he opened for his captain. Nate stepped through the door where the innkeeper stood smiling.
“You are indeed lucky Commander,” the Innkeeper said as he returned to behind his desk. He reached in the box behind him and drew out two keys, “Normally Lord Jarvis would have given you a right proper dressing down,” passing Nate the room key, “This one is for yourself, sir,” he shifted a larger key from his palm down to his fingers and reached it out for Nate to take, “This un be for your man,” and pointed in the direction the inn’s back door, “There is a room at the top of the stairs above the stable.”
Nate took the larger key and passed it to Jasper and turned back to the innkeeper, ”Lord Melville?” Sounding a bit surprised Nate exclaimed, “You don’t mean the First Sea Lord, the Earl of St. Vincent?”
“Aye, that I do,” the innkeeper smiled and pointed in the direction the admiral and the little stooped gentleman had walked, “He and the gentleman stay here every time they are in Portsmouth.”
Nate nodded his head as he gazed in the direction the innkeeper pointed, “And who is the man with the First Lord?”
“That would be Commodore Fry, he always accompanies the First Lord when he visits.” He retrieved his guest ledger from in front of Nate, glanced at it assuring his newest guest had properly signed and placed it under the counter. “I heard some say he was in the spying business,” His eyes searched around the lobby. “Reckon that is why he does not wear a proper uniform.” he beckoned a young man from his seat near the door. “Rodney, give this officer’s man a hand with his baggage.”
Nate glanced back to where he last saw the First Lord and the crooked little man, “Why would the First Lord travel with such a man?”
*****
Nate read the invitation’s address then looked up the long drive at the well-lit house with all the people coming and going. Carriages full of people arrived and empty ones pulled out the gate and stopped along the street to await the passengers’ return from the admiral’s dinner. No doubt, this was Admiral Montague’s home. He turned in the gate and moved up the long drive. A coach rattled behind him and he stepped to the side to let it pass. The light from the torches along the drive reflected on the window of the coach as it passed. Nate gazed on the loveliest alabaster face he ever seen. The young woman brushed a bright red curl of hair from her face as the coach passed. As he continued his walk up the drive he watched the coach stop and the passengers disembark. A short, thin man, in a dark green suit was the first to emerge from the coach. The man immediately turned to assist the woman as she took his hand and stepped down. She wore a beautiful light blue dress and Nate could see when she lowered the hood of her dark blue cape that the dress complimented her fair skin and flaming red hair. The man retrieved a long black cane with what appeared to be an ivory lion’s head handle from the coach and they disappeared past the doorman into the admiral’s home.
The coach pulled away from the door as Nate approached the home’s entrance. The doorman’s round red face filled with a smile as he briefly inspected Nate’s invitation and waved Nate to enter. From where Nate stood in the receiving line, he could see the man in the green suit shake the hand of a senior naval captain while the beautiful redhead curtsied. They exchanged pleasantries and moved on to Admiral Montague. Nate’s position in the receiving line moved ahead slowly. He watched as the admiral took the man’s hand in his right hand while patting his shoulder with the left. The man in the green suit moved on and the admiral embraced the young lady, smiling as best he could with what appeared to be a mouth full of replaced teeth. Nate arched his eyebrow, they must be well known to the admiral.
“Good evening, Commander Beauchamp, so glad you could come,” a voice called to him as he felt his right hand being pulled and shaken by a young lieutenant.
He snapped away from his thoughts of the young couple to stare into the lieutenant’s face. “Good evening, lieutenant,” he briefly gazed in the direction of the admiral but found the young couple had disappeared into the crowd. “When the admiral calls, one had best come. Would you not say, lieutenant?…eh.”
“Jack Barnes, sir.” The lieutenant introduced himself and nodded towards the admiral. “Flag Lieutenant to Sir George.”
“Good to meet you, Lieutenant Barnes.” Nate glanced to see the captain patiently waiting for him. “Looks like I am holding up the line.” Nate moved on towards the waiting captain.
“My friends call me Barney,” Lieutenant Barnes raised his voice slightly above the noise in the foyer.
Nate reached his hand to the waiting captain and spoke over his shoulder to the lieutenant, “My friends call me Nate.” He returned his attention to the captain.
“Commander Beauchamp, I am Flag Captain Martin Thompson.” The captain pulled Nate from the line of guest. “We have been waiting for you.” Captain Thompson tapped the admiral on the arm and motioned to Nate. “Admiral, this is Commander Beauchamp.”
Admiral Montague nodded and whispered something to his wife.
Captain Thompson leaned toward Nate to be heard over the noisy voices in the receiving line. “The Admiral wishes to speak with you before dinner.” Then straightened up, and motioned for Nate and Lieutenant Barnes to follow him.
Nate and Barney followed Captain Thompson into the admiral’s library. He glanced back to the chattering guest in the receiving line to see Admiral Montague excuse himself and follow the three naval officers.
Admiral Montague entered the library and came over to shake Nate’s hand. “My home is a noisy place tonight, eh, Commander?” He pointed out a stuffed red chair in front of his huge oak desk, “Take a seat, Beauchamp.” Sir George walked behind his desk and pulled out his chair after nodding to Lieutenant Barnes to close the library door. “Be seated gentlemen and we will tell Commander Beauchamp what his mission is all about.” Sir George sifted through a stack of papers on his desk. While riffling through the papers he glanced at Nate. “I am sorry to hear of your father’s death. Achilles Beauchamp was a fine officer and my particular friend,” he looked through the papers again, “He shall be surely missed by his friends and the navy.”
“Thank you, Sir George,” Nate adjusted himself in the overstuffed chair. “That is very gratifying coming from such an accomplished officer as yourself.”
The admiral pulled the paper he sought from the pile. “Ah! Here it is.” He spread the paper in front of him and smoothed the edges while he gathered his thoughts. “I suppose you have wondered what all the mystery is about with the Hawk.” He half smiled and studied the paper resting in front of him.
“It has been somewhat unorthodox so far, sir.”
“Commander, Britain has a potential problem that we think you and the Hawk can assist us with.” Sir George glanced at Captain Thompson for conformation.
Captain Thompson pulled his chair closer to Nate and the admiral’s desk. “Commander, first let me tell you some history, then we will get to the root of our problem and your mission.” He went to a cabinet behind Sir George and retrieved a chart, returned to the admiral’s desk and spread the chart, placing the admiral’s inkbottle and whatever else was available on the edges to keep the chart from rolling back up.
Nate leaned forward and briefly studied the chart. “Spanish Florida, the Keys to be exact.”
“Correct, Commander,” Sir George nodded to Captain Thompson to proceed.
Captain Thompson commenced his briefing, “In the early 1700’s an escaped slave of African royalty turned to piracy. For several years he roamed the Florida Keys attacking ships of all nations.” Captain Thompson settled back in his chair and continued with what appeared to be the beginning of a long story. “He called himself Black Cesar. Black Cesar was a skillful pirate and vicious in the pursuit of his chosen trade.”
The captain reached for the wine decanter on the admiral’s desk and held up the bottle and Nate nodded his acceptance of a glass. Lieutenant Barnes appeared with four glasses and pored a round for the four officers.
All the while Captain Thompson’s history lesson continued. “ Black Cesar later joined the pirate Edward Teach, Blackbeard, as we know him. Black Cesar sailed north with Blackbeard on the 40gun ship, Queen Ann’s Revenge.
Captain Thompson sipped his wine, sloshed it around in his mouth and swallowed. “That is mighty fine Madeira you have, Sir George.”
Sir George developed a sheepish grin, “Yes, even we admirals can appreciate what the revenuers let the smugglers slip through their hands.”
“Right! Now where were we?” Captain Thompson rubbed his forehead to help stimulate his memory. “Oh! Yes, a few years later,” he rubbed his head once again, “somewhere near 1717 or was it 1718, well it matters naught, the Queen Ann’s Revenge was near Ocracoke Island off Cape Hatteras in the Carolinas; Blackbeard was killed by navy Lieutenant Maynard and this Black Cesar was taken to Williamsburg and hanged.”
Captain Thompson took a deep breath and held his glass for Lieutenant Barnes to refill, as did Nate and Sir George.
The captain took a long drink of his Madeira, set his glass down and leaned over the chart of the Florida Keys. “On Friday the 13th of July in 1733, the Spanish Treasure Fleet of twenty-two ships set sail from Havana, Cuba.” He turned and smiled at the young commander. “The very next day the fleet was struck by a devastating hurricane that swept all but one ship to destruction, spreading them over thirty miles of the Florida Keys.” Taking a quick sip of his wine, he ran his finger over what Nate assumed to be the area of the Keys where the wrecked ships lay.
Captain Thompson waved off the offer of a refill from Barney and eased back in his seat. “Millions of pesos were scattered in the shallow waters of that thirty miles of Florida Keys.” He pulled at a loose thread on his navy blue coat, lost in thought for a moment, and then he slid forward in his seat and looked directly at Nate. “In the 1730s, the Spanish salvaged part of the cargos of hides, spices, gold, silver and jewels, however; many of the wrecks and millions of pounds of treasure have never been found.”
“That is not until now,” Sir George piped up as if he had been a waiting his turn to speak.
Nate and the other two officers gave the admiral their undivided attention and interest.
“It seems Black Cesar has returned and located the treasure ship San Pedro.
“Sir, that is impossible,” Nate stood before he realized where he was. He sat back down clutching the chair arms, “When I was stationed in the Caribbean I heard stories of this Black Cesar.” He glanced sideways at Barney and Captain Thompson for concurrence, “Like Captain Thompson just said Black Cesar was hanged almost a hundred years ago.”
Sir George smiled at Nate’s confusion, “That is correct, Commander.” Pulling another paper from the drawer of his desk, “I have reports that a man of mixed heritage has appeared in the Keys and taken the name Black Cesar.” The admiral leafed through the new papers and slid out a single, weathered sheet. “This report is from the governor of the Bahamas, it appears that this Black Cesar has resumed the career of his namesake.” Sir George ran his index finger down the page stopping at a paragraph, which he quickly scanned, his lips forming the words as he read to himself. “The new Black Cesar or Black Cesar 2, if you will, has been attacking innocent ships with a deadly force and he always leaves a single survivor to tell of his atrocities against the crews and passengers.” The admiral stacked the papers and laid them aside. “He has created a fear in the local shipping concerns that has adversely affected commerce between the mainland of Florida and the Caribbean.”
“Admiral, why don’t we join with the Spanish and capture or drive this pirate out of the Keys?” Nate queried.
“Commander, we shall tell you the rest of the information we have and how you and the Hawk fit in to our plans.” The admiral stood and moved around his desk and sat in the chair next to Nate. “Commander, we have reports that tell us that Black Cesar is well financed by Irish rebels who intend to use their share of the treasure to fund a rebellion against the crown.”
“I see, sir,” Nate slipped back in his chair and digested the ramifications of what the admiral had just said.
“We are not at war with Spain so we can not send a squadron into Spanish territory and we certainly are not in favor of the Spanish increasing their treasury but most of all we can not let the Irish rebels get any of that treasure.” The admiral stood and placed his hand on Nate’s shoulder, “So we have devised a plan to create our own pirate ship to deal with Black Cesar and the Irish.”
Nate looked up at Sir George, “I take that it is the Hawk you are referring to, sir?”
“Yes, Commander Beauchamp, it is you and the Hawk that will take this mission to Spanish Florida for your King and country.” Sir George returned to his seat behind the desk.
“Sir, the Hawk is a lumbering, old Dutch merchantman, she is slow, wallows in the seas and sits too high in the water for her guns to bear.” Nate stressed his point and waited for the admiral to agree.
“I am aware of her sailing qualities,” Sir George took an intake of air and pondered his next words carefully. “I was not prepared to tell you this commander until the modifications to the Hawk were completed.” He picked up his quill and ran the feather through his fingers several times before he spoke again. “When the modifications are completed and you have taken on stores, you will take the Hawk to Fishbourne on the Isle of Wight, as previously instructed.” He motioned for Lieutenant Barnes to fill all the glasses with another round of Madeira. “There you will be met with a hoy carrying sixteen twelve pound and two, eighteen pound canon; they are for the lower deck Mr. Sarris’ yard has been strengthening.” The admiral smiled like the cat that had just captured a mouse, “That should make the Hawk sit lower in the water for you.”
Nate nodded his head in agreement, “Those Dutch merchantmen are known to be slow under sail, sir.”
“It is the responsibility of each captain to obtain top performance from his vessel, Commander,” Sir George slid his chair back and stood, “I’ll not expect any less from you, sir.”
Nate stood as the admiral and the other officers walked toward the library door. “I’ll do my best, Sir George.”
“I am sure you will, Beauchamp,” Sir George nodded for Barney to open the door, “I should attend my guest now; Lieutenant Barnes will introduce you to your dinner partner.”
Nate silently mouthed, “Dinner partner?” to Barney as the admiral departed the room.
Barney pushed Nate’s chest to stop him until the admiral was out of earshot. He grinned as he informed Nate, “Mrs. Montague likes for her guest to be paired off,” he chuckled, “Must be the match maker in her.”
“What am I paired with?” Nate asked, “Likely some spinster from who knows where?”
“Not exactly. She has appointed you to Mrs. Hiram Harper.” Barney was enjoying Nate’s predicament.
“Mrs. Hiram Harper!” Nate was taken aback, “Hiram Harper is a full captain in command of a third rate.”
“Yes, he is,” Barney chuckled. “But he is away at sea and she needs an escort for this evening.”
Nate looked down at the floor in disappointment.
Barney took Nate’s arm and guided him into the dining room, “You do not wish to upset the admiral’s wife, do you?”
Nate realized the consequences and sheepishly followed Barney to his assigned place at the table where Barney indicated for him to sit. He nervously adjusted his silverware and watched the gaily-dressed people up and down the table. It was evident that many of the people knew each other. He felt like he was on a deserted island while here in the middle of all these people he did not know, then he saw the redhead near the end of the table on the opposite side. She and the gentleman in the green suit were seated near Admiral and Mrs. Montague. Her beauty was breath taking, never had he seen such a striking woman. I’ll have Barney introduce us after dinner.
He felt a tugging at his right elbow and turned to where Mrs. Harper was assigned to sit. She was middle aged yet not unattractive. Her wig was of the latest French design, curled atop her head in white swirls. Her eyes told of a slightly tired woman who may have attended one too many parties. Her white dress too was of French design, cut low in the front, exposing more than he would expect a woman of her age and station in life to reveal in public. He realized he was staring at her bosom and snapped his head up to hear her engaged in conversation with him. “I am sorry, Mrs. Harper, I’m afraid my mind was somewhere else.”
“I noticed that, Commander Beauchamp, and I am flattered.” She smiled a warm smile at Nate and he felt his face blush.
He ran his fingers around the inside of his collar, either trying to let more air in or just from a nervous habit, he was not sure which it was. “I am quite sorry, Mrs. Harper, but you are so lovely tonight,” Nate attempted to placate the woman.
“Oh, I am not offended, Commander,” she wrapped her arms around his and snuggled into his side, “I am quite flattered. Perhaps you will see me home after dinner.” Mrs. Harper rubbed Nate’s leg, smoothing a wrinkle that had materialized when he seared himself. “Portsmouth can be a very dangerous place after dark and I would feel so secure with a naval officer to escort me.”
Nate pulled at his collar again and looked around the table to see if anyone was watching as Mrs. Harper draped herself all over him. Luckily everyone was too involved with his or her own doings to notice, that is except Jack Barnes, who sat across from Nate grinning from ear to ear. He could see no way out except to volunteer to see Mrs. Barnes home; so he agreed, and Mrs. Barnes pulled away as dinner was served.
He looked down the table at the redhead to see her looking in his direction. Even from this distance he could see that her eyes were like blue crystals twinkling in the reflection of the candelabra directly in front of her. She smiled and turned to speak with the admiral just as Mrs. Harper dropped her napkin. Nate bent over and retrieved it and as he raised up Mrs. Harper took the napkin and slowly tucked it between her breast and fluffed it out to cover her dress. “Thank you, Mr. Beauchamp.”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Harper,” Nate leaned sideways toward her as the waiter placed fresh pork on his plate.
“Please call me, Sarah, Commander,” she cooed in his ear as she pushed her breast into his arm.
Nate adjusted his collar once again and felt his face burn with embarrassment. Barney grinned across the table and sipped his wine. Nate mouthed the silent word “Help,” to Barney, hoping for some reprieve that would prevent him from escorting Mrs. Harper home. Barney got up and walked around the table and tapped Nate on the shoulder nearest Mrs. Harper, “Commander Beauchamp, I should remind you, sir, that Admiral Montague desires you to return to your ship before the next tide.”
Nate turned to Mrs. Harper, “I am so sorry Mrs. Harper, I had totally forgotten. I’m afraid the lieutenant is right, I must return to my ship or face the admiral’s wrath.”
Mrs. Harper’s face turned to a frown, “But Mr. Beauchamp, you promised to see me home after dinner.”
“I am so sorry, Mrs. Harper,” Nate laid it on thick, “A sailor’s duty is first of all things.” Standing, he pushed the chair back and stepped out beside Barney, “You of all people can appreciate that, I’m sure.”
“Well, er yes,” she swung back to face the table, adjusting her blouse as she did, “I suppose I can, perhaps another time Commander.”
Nate and Barney stepped quickly to retrieve Nate’s hat. He glanced back at his seat at the table and saw Mrs. Harper had already dropped her napkin between her and the gentleman on her right. Nate smiled at Barney, “I owe you a great favor for rescuing me, Barney.”
Barney shook his head in the negative, “No bother Nate, you may do me the same service someday.”
They both laughed as they proceeded to the front door.
Nate stopped to look back, “Say, Barney. Who is the redhead next to the admiral?”
Barney glanced back at the far end of the table, “Oh; that is Barbara Hayes, the admiral’s god daughter. Her father was the admiral’s first flag captain,” he turned and took Nate’s hat from the servant, “She and her brother, William, are just in from Dublin,” handing Nate his hat he continued, “They are in the shipping business and are in Portsmouth to board one of their ships for a voyage abroad on some family business.”
“Ah, then the gentleman in the green suit is her brother,” Nate smiled to himself, “You will have to introduce me sometime.”
“Not much chance of that dear friend,” Barney guided Nate towards the door, “You are leaving soon and they are leaving tomorrow.”
“Perhaps when we all return,” Nate stared at the end of the table until the admiral’s doorman closed the door.
“Shall I summon you a coach?” Barney pointed to the line of parked coaches along the street.
“It is damp tonight; I think I would appreciate that.”
*****
