when you get right away from everything, don’t you think?”
I smiled. “I do.”
I decided I quite liked my new employer. He was delicate as a cat in his habits, tidy but not fussy, and Talbot took care of the donkey work. The colonel had decreed that we could not possibly begin on the memoir until we were well out to sea and perfectly settled, so all that was left to me was a bit of letter writing on the colonel’s behalf and to amuse him. This usually took the form of mealtime conversation, some reading aloud, and the occasional game of chess. I started out with a few modest successes but I’d become quite proficient in the few days we had been travelling together. But even with my improved game, I could not hope to best the colonel. His gentle chivalry did not extend to letting me win, and whatever gains I made in the game were always hard-won. Occasionally I caught him watching me closely as we played, and an inscrutable expression would pass over his features. I wondered if I reminded him of someone he once knew, but I did not like to ask.
He was wearing that expression again as he approached the rail, his stick tapping gently on the deck. “Ah, see that constellation there? That’s good old Cancer, the crab. You know, of course, how it got its name?”
The question wasn’t really a question, and I knew it. The colonel was entirely capable of asking and answering with no help from me, and so I said nothing as he went on.
“When Heracles, the son of Zeus, was battling with the water-serpent Hydra, his jealous stepmother, Hera, sent Cancer the crab to aid the serpent and vanquish her stepson once and for all. But Heracles crushed the poor old crab with a single blow of his foot, shattering its shell. For his devotion even unto death, Hera reassembled him and placed him in the stars to honour his loyalty.” He was silent a moment as we stared up at the glimmering stars.
“Ah, well,” he finished, “tales from my schoolboy days. I don’t suppose they teach much mythology nowadays, but that’s what started me on my love of travel, you see. I wanted to see these places out of myth for myself—Mount Olympus and Sparta and the gates of Troy. Of course, those stories were replaced by real history as I grew up. I learnt about the Crusades, about Richard the Lionheart, our soldier king, and I wanted to be a soldier just like him. And when it was over and done, I remembered those stories I’d known as a boy, of faraway places and great warriors, and I thought it must be time at last to see them. Made seventeen trips to that part of the world, all told. All around the Mediterranean, and although you’ll never hear me say there’s any of them that can touch England, there is much to be seen, my dear. Much indeed.”
His breath was coming quite fast, and I realised he was growing a little overexcited by his reminiscences. I was just wrestling with whether or not I should call Talbot when the man himself appeared, impeccable in his evening clothes. He cleared his throat quietly and the colonel turned.
“Time for your medicine, Colonel,” the valet told him. Like his master, the valet had splendid posture, and he wore his evening clothes with all the elegance of a gentleman. He did not look at me as he addressed the colonel, but I knew he would have taken in every detail of my appearance. Nothing escaped him, at least nothing about me, and I felt myself preen a little at his nearness. He just had an effect upon people, particularly women. More than once I had seen ladies giving him the glad eye as our little party passed. Even Masterman, during our brief snatches of conversation, had pronounced him “a bit of something.”
The colonel fussed a little but tottered off, giving himself up to Talbot’s attentions. I turned back to the rail, chin in hand, peering into the inky-black nothingness beyond. If it weren’t for the stars and their darting reflections in the waves, I would have thought myself entirely
I smiled. “I do.”
I decided I quite liked my new employer. He was delicate as a cat in his habits, tidy but not fussy, and Talbot took care of the donkey work. The colonel had decreed that we could not possibly begin on the memoir until we were well out to sea and perfectly settled, so all that was left to me was a bit of letter writing on the colonel’s behalf and to amuse him. This usually took the form of mealtime conversation, some reading aloud, and the occasional game of chess. I started out with a few modest successes but I’d become quite proficient in the few days we had been travelling together. But even with my improved game, I could not hope to best the colonel. His gentle chivalry did not extend to letting me win, and whatever gains I made in the game were always hard-won. Occasionally I caught him watching me closely as we played, and an inscrutable expression would pass over his features. I wondered if I reminded him of someone he once knew, but I did not like to ask.
He was wearing that expression again as he approached the rail, his stick tapping gently on the deck. “Ah, see that constellation there? That’s good old Cancer, the crab. You know, of course, how it got its name?”
The question wasn’t really a question, and I knew it. The colonel was entirely capable of asking and answering with no help from me, and so I said nothing as he went on.
“When Heracles, the son of Zeus, was battling with the water-serpent Hydra, his jealous stepmother, Hera, sent Cancer the crab to aid the serpent and vanquish her stepson once and for all. But Heracles crushed the poor old crab with a single blow of his foot, shattering its shell. For his devotion even unto death, Hera reassembled him and placed him in the stars to honour his loyalty.” He was silent a moment as we stared up at the glimmering stars.
“Ah, well,” he finished, “tales from my schoolboy days. I don’t suppose they teach much mythology nowadays, but that’s what started me on my love of travel, you see. I wanted to see these places out of myth for myself—Mount Olympus and Sparta and the gates of Troy. Of course, those stories were replaced by real history as I grew up. I learnt about the Crusades, about Richard the Lionheart, our soldier king, and I wanted to be a soldier just like him. And when it was over and done, I remembered those stories I’d known as a boy, of faraway places and great warriors, and I thought it must be time at last to see them. Made seventeen trips to that part of the world, all told. All around the Mediterranean, and although you’ll never hear me say there’s any of them that can touch England, there is much to be seen, my dear. Much indeed.”
His breath was coming quite fast, and I realised he was growing a little overexcited by his reminiscences. I was just wrestling with whether or not I should call Talbot when the man himself appeared, impeccable in his evening clothes. He cleared his throat quietly and the colonel turned.
“Time for your medicine, Colonel,” the valet told him. Like his master, the valet had splendid posture, and he wore his evening clothes with all the elegance of a gentleman. He did not look at me as he addressed the colonel, but I knew he would have taken in every detail of my appearance. Nothing escaped him, at least nothing about me, and I felt myself preen a little at his nearness. He just had an effect upon people, particularly women. More than once I had seen ladies giving him the glad eye as our little party passed. Even Masterman, during our brief snatches of conversation, had pronounced him “a bit of something.”
The colonel fussed a little but tottered off, giving himself up to Talbot’s attentions. I turned back to the rail, chin in hand, peering into the inky-black nothingness beyond. If it weren’t for the stars and their darting reflections in the waves, I would have thought myself entirely
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