Peril on the Sea by Michael Cadnum Page B

up to my word and help you to steal your own ship.”
    Sir Anthony protested again. “I cannot abide such an arrangement.”
    â€œAnd I shall be far away from the coast, Father,” said Katharine, “safe from any attack the Spaniards might loose on these estates.”
    â€œSafe where?” said Anthony. “On the high seas with this distinguished rascal?”
    â€œHe is the man you trust with your future,” said Katharine. “Besides, my voyage will last only as long as it takes to intercept our cargo.”
    â€œKatharine,” said Anthony ruefully, “you argue too well.”
    â€œThere is another reason,” said the captain, “that makes your idea, Lady Katharine, appealing from my standpoint.”
    â€œWhat is that, Captain?” asked Highbridge.
    Highbridge had not spoken during most of the meal,and, after introductions had been made, he had taken in what was said and, Katharine thought, noticed what was pointedly not mentioned.
    He was a lean man, garbed in black or the darkest possible blue. His beard was combed to a point, and he carried a lens of crystal on a golden chain around his neck. Just as Fletcher radiated an air of impish contradiction, Highbridge gave the impression of quiet single-mindedness.
    â€œWith this lady on board, Highbridge,” said Fletcher, “there is no question that we can take part in any fighting. We must stay out of the war—if in truth the war comes.”
    â€œI am relieved to hear it,” sighed Sir Anthony.
    â€œYou’ll not use my presence on board the
Vixen
,” protested Katharine, “to excuse yourself from fighting for our Queen.”
    â€œMy lady, I am reassured,” said Highbridge.
    She would dread to take part in a battle, and would be quite pleased if any forthcoming war was forestalled indefinitely. But she bridled at the implication that she was a frail nestling, in need of protection. Furthermore, she could guess how a mariner like Highbridge might resent her presence on his ship, if it kept the
Vixen
out of her chance at glory.
    â€œAnd the presence of a lovely lady, if you will permit me,” said the captain, with a gallant gesture in Katharine’s direction, “might empower my historian to describe the
Vixen
and her captain in lines of poetry.”
    â€œI have begun,” said Sherwin, with an air of hopeful modesty, “knitting such verses.”
    â€œLet us hear a sample,” insisted the captain.
    â€œThey are fledgling lines only,” said Sherwin, “and not ready for flight.”
    â€œWe desire to listen to them,” said Captain Fletcher.
    Sherwin touched a cup of sweetened wine to his lips and said, in his clear, pleasing voice,
“Our pikes like hedgepig quills, and our bright sails
    Like morning’s sunlight seconded from dawn,
If Heaven is content to lend us triumph,
In what torn vessel should we fear?”
    This brief fragment of poetry—which to Katharine sounded very fine indeed—was met by a silence of anticipation.
    Sherwin ducked his head. He felt profoundly stirred by everything Katharine had said, and keenly resentful toward Lord Pevensey and Sir Gregory.
    â€œThat’s all I have finished just now,” he said.
    â€œA sterling fragment, dear Sherwin, but a shard only,” said the captain with a happy laugh. “Think what glorious verse you’ll be inspired to compose with this noble young lady aboard our vessel.”
    Sherwin had the good grace, Katharine noted, to blush.
    But any further conversation was interrupted by the distant sound of an approaching horse, adorned with bells,judging by the sound. Additional hooves clattered in the dooryard, and Baines hurried into the room.
    â€œSir Gregory is here, my lords, with Cecil Rawes,” said the servant, “demanding to see Sir Anthony.”
    Anthony looked alarmed. “You must hide, Fletcher, all of you.”
    Captain Fletcher rose,