The Bomb Vessel by Richard Woodman Read Free Book Online

lost for a while to the cares of the ship.
    My Dearest Husband
,
    It is with great sadness that I write to say I shall not see you at Christmastide. I am much troubled by sickness and anxious for the child whom, from the trouble he causes, I know to be a boy. Charlotte chatters incessantly
 . . .
    There was a page of his daughter’s exploits and a curl of her hair. He learned that the lateness of Tregembo’s departure was caused by a delay in the preparation of his Christmas gift and that Louise Quilhampton was having her portrait painted by Gaston Bruilhac, a paroled French
sous-officier
, captured by Drinkwater in the Red Sea who had executed a much admired likeness of his captor during the homeward voyage. There was town gossip and Elizabeth’s disapproval of Mr Quilhampton’s recruiting methods. Then, saved in Elizabeth’s reserved manner for a position of importance in the penultimate paragraph, an oddly disquieting sentence:
    On Tuesday last I received an odd visitor, your brother Edward whom I have not seen these five or six years. He was in company with a lively and pretty French woman, some fugitive from the sans culottes. Hespoke excellent French to her and was most anxious to see you on some private business. I explained your whereabouts but he would vouchsafe me no further confidences. I confess his manner made me uneasy
 . . . 
    Drinkwater looked up frowning only to find Quilhampton still in the cabin.
    â€˜You wish to see me, Mr Q?’
    â€˜Beg pardon, sir, but I am rather out of pocket. The expense of bringing the men, sir . . .’
    Drinkwater sighed. ‘Yes, yes, of course. How much?’
    â€˜Four pounds, seventeen shillings and four pence ha’penny, sir. I kept a strict account . . .’
    The problem of the ship closed round him again, driving all thoughts of his brother from his mind.
    Mr Easton, the sailing master, with a brand new certificate from the Trinity House and an equally new warrant from the Navy Board joined them on the last day of the old century. Six days later Drinkwater welcomed his final warrant officer aboard. They had served together before. Mr Trussel was wizened, stoop-shouldered and yellow skinned. Lank hair fell to his shoulders from the sides and back of his head, though his crown was bald.
    â€˜Reporting for duty, Mr Drinkwater.’ A smile split his face from ear to ear.
    â€˜God bless my soul, Mr Trussel, I had despaired of your arrival, but you are just in time. Pray help yourself to a glass of black-strap.’ He indicated the decanter that sat on its tray at the end of the table, remembering Trussel’s legendary thirst which he attributed to a lifelong proximity to gunpowder.
    â€˜The roads were dreadful, sir,’ said Trussel, helping himself to the cheap, dark wine. ‘I gather we are a tender, sir, servicing bombs.’
    â€˜Exactly so, Mr Trussel, and as such most desperately in want of a gunner. I shall rely most heavily upon you. As soon as we are rigged we are ordered to Blackstakes to load ammunition and ordnance stores. You will of course have finished your preparations of the magazines by then. Willerton, the carpenter, has a quantity of tongued deals on board and has made a start on them. I’ve no need to impress upon your mind that not a nail’s to be driven once we’ve a grain of powder on board.’
    â€˜I understand, sir.’ He paused. ‘I saw Mr Rogers on deck.’ Thestatement of fact held just the faintest hint of surprise. Trussel had been gunner of the brig
Hellebore
when Rogers wrecked her in the Red Sea.
    â€˜Mr Rogers is proving a most efficient first lieutenant Mr Trussel.’ Drinkwater paused, watching Trussel’s face remain studiously wooden. ‘Well, I’d be obliged if you would be about your business without delay; time is of the very essence.’
    Trussel rose. ‘One other thing, sir.’
    â€˜Yes,