The Seahorse by Michael Aye Read Free Book Online

ask?”
    â€œAdmiral Graham said the ship had finally gotten a captain that knew how to run a ship and I’d be a blundering idiot not to return.”
    Gabe couldn’t help but chuckle. “Find yourself a clean glass, Mr Wiley, and we will make a toast to a new beginning.”
    â€œA new beginning, sir, and here’s to your health.”

Chapter Seven

    Anthony and Lord Ragland had attended the Royal Theater and were discussing the play they’d seen. “You never know when we’ll get the chance to see such a play,” Ragland said, encouraging Anthony to go along.
    Finally Anthony gave in and the two attended one of the best plays he could remember seeing. It had been put on by an Italian opera group. Not only was it good but it also was long. Lord Ragland had drunk so much wine that once the play ended and he was packed into the coach, he slumped over apparently out.
    Bart climbed in a seat next to Anthony, passing him a pouch of tobacco. “Try this,” he said. “Man swore it would burn slow so your pipe wouldn’t get hot and it won’t bite yer tongue. It doesn’t smell half bad either.”
    Anthony had lit up his pipe and was amazed at how refreshing it was. “Not English tobacco,” he said to Bart.
    â€œNay. Better, much better.”
    Then the two sat back against the seat pulling the coach blanket over them. The only light in the dark coach came from the tiny embers inside the bowls of their pipes. The coach moved along at a good clip down the largely deserted streets in the early a.m. hours. One or two other coaches rushed along trying to get home before the temperature dropped further. Small puffs of tobacco smoke escaped the coach’s windows and horses hooves clapped on the cobblestone streets.
    â€œWhoa! Whoa!” the driver shouted.
    The wheels and horses were sliding on the dew-damp street. A carriage had darted out in front of the coach so the driver had to stop quickly or wreck. One of the lead horses lost its footing and fell. Bart tried to open his door but the coach in trying to stop so quickly had slid up against one of the street lamps. From up on the driver’s box, you could hear curses and shouting, then a pistol shot. The shouting suddenly ceased. The three standing horses danced nervously in their harnesses.
    The driver lay on the dark street groaning and gasping. The downed horse was finally able to right itself but stood wild-eyed not sure what was happening.
    Several men appeared at the coach’s door on Anthony’s side. One of the men snatched open the door and jerked Anthony and Bart out onto the street. He had a mask over his face as did the rest of the men. However, he was the only one showing a pistol…a brace of pistols. One of them was still smoking from shooting the driver.
    â€œStand there,” the masked man ordered. “Stand and deliver.”
    â€œAre you mad?” Anthony exclaimed. “I’m an officer in His Majesty’s Navy.”
    This brought laughter from the highwayman. “’E said you was a lofty bugger.”
    â€œWho said that?” Anthony demanded.
    â€œYe jus never mind now,” one of the other villains chimed in. “Ye’s got a ’andsome reward on yer ’ead. We gets yer valuables and a reward. Be on wid it mate so’s we can get going.” This came from a man standing by the carriage.
    Pulling Bart up close by his collar, the highwayman’s hand went under his great cloak and whipped out a dagger and cut a fine red line across Bart’s cheek.
    â€œNow ’and it over or the next one will be ’is gullet. Quick now, your money purse, rings, and any other valuables or ’e dies.”
    â€œWe’re dead already,” Bart spat.
    â€œRight you are, matey,” the rogue said with a laugh. Then his head exploded.
    Blood, brain, and bone sprayed Bart. However, being a man of action he snatched the pistol from