they been at sea and where had they sailed to, for warm Mediterranean waters were faster to foul a hull than the cold Atlantic?
If HMS Semele could get close enough by a well-worked chase, would a pair of frigates reckon that to fight gave thema chance of glory – not in terms of gunnery but by being able to manoeuvre more quickly and sting a larger opponent?
‘I think we know the calibre of our enemies, Mr Palmer. They are inclined to avoid battle are they not, which we can see before our very eyes?’
‘True sir.’
‘I think we must pass on what would be a fruitless chase that might take days. We shall raise Naples before we lose daylight, so let us resume our course and rue the fact that we did not come upon yonder fellows close to and at first light.’
The feeling of anticlimax was palpable and even an insensitive soul like Ralph Barclay could feel it, which had him step before the binnacle and glare along the deck as if to challenge anyone to speak or even scowl. That he held while the orders were being given to resume their original course, the sails hauled round and sheeted home, no one willing to catch his eye.
The smirk on Gherson’s face as he passed his tiny cubicle infuriated Ralph Barclay, but the reprimand died on his lips; with what he was about he needed this man too much to chastise him now.
John Pearce was landing at Leghorn by the time HMS Semele raised the channel running between the Isla Procida and the promontory of Bacoli, the sun sinking to the west, which meant any attempt to land would have to wait till morning. Such a vessel could not come close to Naples without it caused excitement and long before she dropped anchor in the wide bay word had been sent to the British Ambassador to tell him that a capital ship of his nation’s navy was in the offing.
‘Emma, my dear, we must prepare to receive the man in command.’
‘Do we know of him?’
‘How could we?’
‘A stranger, then. Let us hope that he is of the entertaining variety. Too many of these naval fellows are dullards.’
The Chevalier smiled. ‘I have known you to find one or two entertaining, my dear.’
‘One or two, yes, but no more than that.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was a wary, rather than a weary traveller who landed at Leghorn; given the trouble he had previously encountered in the Tuscan port that was to be expected. There was a strong naval presence to support the commissary needs of the fleet but at present no warships in the roadstead, which was a disappointment and led him first to the pensione in which he and Emily had previously stayed to leave there his sea chest.
Pearce’s reasons for caution centred on redcoats not blue, soldiers not sailors, for he had encountered much grief from contacts with army men here, though there seemed little evidence of their presence now. Enquiries at the office of the Navy Board, and the Captain Urquhart who oversaw their work, provided no information as to when he could expect a ship, while he had to be circumspect as to how he had come to be there without one.
Obliged to identify himself he dare not mention HMS Flirt or the mission on which she had been engaged, while the excuses he provided, hastily conjured up since he had not previously thought of the need – that he had becomeseparated from his vessel by ill health – sounded feeble to his ears and judging by the expression that greeted his explanation was scarce believed.
‘Well,’ the captain said, his manner decidedly unfriendly, that being enhanced by a dour and heavy Scots delivery, ‘your name is known, sir, in these parts and not in a good way.’
‘I am at a loss to know why that should be particular to Leghorn.’
‘Come, sir. You are by common consent not qualified for your rank. Even monarchs make errors. Do not deny that you induced a near riot in the port – one that, fortunately, did not end in fatalities, though it sailed damn close.’
Pearce declined to protest, for the first
If HMS Semele could get close enough by a well-worked chase, would a pair of frigates reckon that to fight gave thema chance of glory – not in terms of gunnery but by being able to manoeuvre more quickly and sting a larger opponent?
‘I think we know the calibre of our enemies, Mr Palmer. They are inclined to avoid battle are they not, which we can see before our very eyes?’
‘True sir.’
‘I think we must pass on what would be a fruitless chase that might take days. We shall raise Naples before we lose daylight, so let us resume our course and rue the fact that we did not come upon yonder fellows close to and at first light.’
The feeling of anticlimax was palpable and even an insensitive soul like Ralph Barclay could feel it, which had him step before the binnacle and glare along the deck as if to challenge anyone to speak or even scowl. That he held while the orders were being given to resume their original course, the sails hauled round and sheeted home, no one willing to catch his eye.
The smirk on Gherson’s face as he passed his tiny cubicle infuriated Ralph Barclay, but the reprimand died on his lips; with what he was about he needed this man too much to chastise him now.
John Pearce was landing at Leghorn by the time HMS Semele raised the channel running between the Isla Procida and the promontory of Bacoli, the sun sinking to the west, which meant any attempt to land would have to wait till morning. Such a vessel could not come close to Naples without it caused excitement and long before she dropped anchor in the wide bay word had been sent to the British Ambassador to tell him that a capital ship of his nation’s navy was in the offing.
‘Emma, my dear, we must prepare to receive the man in command.’
‘Do we know of him?’
‘How could we?’
‘A stranger, then. Let us hope that he is of the entertaining variety. Too many of these naval fellows are dullards.’
The Chevalier smiled. ‘I have known you to find one or two entertaining, my dear.’
‘One or two, yes, but no more than that.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was a wary, rather than a weary traveller who landed at Leghorn; given the trouble he had previously encountered in the Tuscan port that was to be expected. There was a strong naval presence to support the commissary needs of the fleet but at present no warships in the roadstead, which was a disappointment and led him first to the pensione in which he and Emily had previously stayed to leave there his sea chest.
Pearce’s reasons for caution centred on redcoats not blue, soldiers not sailors, for he had encountered much grief from contacts with army men here, though there seemed little evidence of their presence now. Enquiries at the office of the Navy Board, and the Captain Urquhart who oversaw their work, provided no information as to when he could expect a ship, while he had to be circumspect as to how he had come to be there without one.
Obliged to identify himself he dare not mention HMS Flirt or the mission on which she had been engaged, while the excuses he provided, hastily conjured up since he had not previously thought of the need – that he had becomeseparated from his vessel by ill health – sounded feeble to his ears and judging by the expression that greeted his explanation was scarce believed.
‘Well,’ the captain said, his manner decidedly unfriendly, that being enhanced by a dour and heavy Scots delivery, ‘your name is known, sir, in these parts and not in a good way.’
‘I am at a loss to know why that should be particular to Leghorn.’
‘Come, sir. You are by common consent not qualified for your rank. Even monarchs make errors. Do not deny that you induced a near riot in the port – one that, fortunately, did not end in fatalities, though it sailed damn close.’
Pearce declined to protest, for the first
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