Cut and Run: The Fourth Book in the Fighting Sail Series by Alaric Bond Read Free Book Online Page B

of the quarterdeck. King watched them intently. Their tattoos, gait and attire marked them out as experienced seamen, and he could detect no unduly sullen looks, even though they may well have just stepped off a homeward-bound ship and were probably in need of food.
           “Seems like a good start,” he said quietly.
           “A good start indeed,” Paterson agreed.  
           Then there was a further commotion. The cutter had drawn up, and soon a collection of petty and junior officers was climbing through the entry port and joining those in the waist. They were known to the seamen who allowed themselves to be arranged into what must have been their previous watches, then stood waiting, a little more formally now. Rogers timed his arrival perfectly, appearing on the quarterdeck just as their attention was about to drift from the new surroundings. King and Paterson watched him from behind as joined by Willis and now Seagrove, he strode forward to the break of the quarterdeck and commanded the assembly's complete attention.  
           King had to hand it to him. Rogers certainly looked the part; impeccably turned out in full dress uniform, with an embellished sword at his hip, and all the majesty, pomp and swagger of a true commander. The men were also impressed. There was a hushed silence while their new captain read a short statement that nominated him as the overall authority in the ship, the one who controlled her movements and, ultimately, their lives. The fresh intake was dismissed almost immediately, and for a moment stood in small groups, uncertain as to their proper station. Then, following a word from Willis, the petty officers began to shout, and the seamen were herded forward. A party was detailed to man the falls, bringing what personal possessions they might have up from the longboats, while the others were dismissed.
           “Mr King, Mr Paterson!” Rogers had not deemed it necessary to turn around, and his call took both men by surprise. “You will attend me, if you please.”
           King glanced quickly at Paterson who followed him forward and down the short ladder to the quarterdeck. The feeling that Rogers was aware of their presence, indeed had been watching intently, even though his back was turned, was impossible to ignore. Seagrove and Willis chose not to notice them, however, although Rogers touched his hat in return to their salutes with due formality.
           “The new men will have to be fed,” he said looking directly at King. “See to it, and do not take too long; we have much ahead, and are to be moving to the Downs with Tuesday's morning tide.”
           “Very good, sir.” King was equally formal, although his active mind raced. It gave them barely two days. “Is there a watch list?”
           Rogers was momentarily taken aback. “Not at present. Watch lists and quarter bills are something Mr Paterson can attend to.”
           King could not help but glance across as the third mate touched his hat. The work would take most of a day in itself and was usually the responsibility of the chief officer.
           “There will be a further man joining us later this morning, and the first of our guests by nightfall,” Rogers was continuing. “Cows, sheep and poultry are expected at any time, as is the last of the water. I also understand that some passengers embarking at Spithead are sending their personal servants in advance to prepare for their arrival. You will take especial care of them and see that the men do not fraternise with any females.”
           “Yes, sir.” The two men spoke in unison and saluted again. They were about to turn away, but Rogers, it seemed, had not finished.
           “Another thing.”
           They waited.
           “From now on Mr King will take charge of the junior officers' berthing arrangements.”
           The subject came as a surprise, although the young