Their Lordships Request: A Harry Heron Adventure (17 page)

             
"
You
are
right!
I
had
forgot
.
"
The
Major
'
s
frown
deepened,
"
I
will
enquire
as
to
his
fate,
but
I
doubt
that
Harry
will
encounter
him
and
even
if
he
does
there
is
little
he
can
–
or
should
-
do.
"
He
accepted
the
letter
and
began
to
read
for
himself
as
his
wife
began
to
read
the
third
letter.

             
Suddenly
the
Major
exclaimed,
"
Of
all
the
infamous
things!
There
is
a
Raholp
Barclay
aboard
the
Spartan
!
And
Harry
'
s
senior
too.
He
shall
have
to
tread
warily
as
will
Ferghal.
"

             
"
I
am
sure
we
may
trust
Harry
on
that
score,
"
his
wife
replied.
"
He
is
at
least
aware
of
the
history
and
his
Captain
is
from
these
parts
and
will
know
it
too.
"

             
"
As
you
say.
I
know
Robert
Blackwood
and
I
am
sure
he
will
permit
no
underhand
dealing,
"
the
Major
said.
"
I
shall
write,
but
it
will
be
months
ere
it
reaches
him.
"

***

             
The
winds
remained
strong
and
adverse
as
the
convoy
beat
its
way
to
the
south.
Biscay
was
avoided,
as
the
convoy
made
a
long
tack
out
into
the
Atlantic
and
when
it
again
closed
the
coast
it
was
south
of
Cape
Tourinan
on
the
Spanish
coast.
Even
so
the
winds
remained
perverse
until
the
fleet
reached
the
latitude
of
Cadiz
and
then
as
suddenly,
eased
and
became
gentler
giving
the
tired
crew
of
Spartan
an
opportunity
to
dry
their
clothes
and
make
good
the
myriad
minor
defects
that
developed
in
the
long
slog
southwards.

             
"
Heron,
"
Harry
stiffened
at
the
hectoring
tone
of
Eamon
Barclay,
"
Get
that
traitor
of
yours
to
clean
my
shirts.
He
'
s
idle
and
needs
a
taste
of
the
rope,
"
he
added
viciously.

             
"
He
is
our
Messman,
I
feel
sure
you
can
instruct
him
yourself,
"
Harry
replied
coolly,
his
temper
simmering
at
the
calculated
insult.
"
And
I
have
no
doubt
that
he
performs
his
duties
to
everyone
'
s
satisfaction.
"

             
Barclay
laughed
harshly,
"
Typical,
always
defending
him.
See
to
it
my
shirts
get
washed
or
it
'
ll
be
the
rigging
for
you
my
lad.
"

             
Harry
bit
back
a
retort.
Barclay
was
the
Gunroom
senior
and
he
'
d
already
suffered
several
watches
tied
to
the
rigging
for
his
refusal
to
kowtow
to
the
bully.
Instead
he
said,
"
I
'
ll
speak
to
Ferghal.
"

             
Any
further
conversation
was
cut
off
at
that
moment
by
the
pipe
and
cries
of,
"
All
hands,
all
hands
muster
on
deck.
"

***

             
The
sight
that
greeted
them
was
one
that,
bare
weeks
before,
would
have
required
the
ship
'
s
clearing
for
action.
Bearing
down
upon
them
were
two
frigates
flying
the
colours
of
the
Spanish
crown.

             
Harry
arrived
on
the
quarterdeck
to
hear
the
Captain
order,
"
Prepare
to
render
passing
honours,
Mister
Bell.
"
He
snapped
his
telescope
shut
and
handed
it
to
Kit
Tanner
adding,
"
They
are
preparing
to
do
the
same
I
see,
we
shall
show
them
how
it
is
done
properly.
"

             
The
Master
'
s
Mates
were
already
driving
the
men
into
action,
sending
some
aloft
to
man
rigging
and
spars
and
others
to
line
the
nettings.
The
Royal
Marines
formed
a
solid
block
of
red
and
white
on
the
quarterdeck
with
the
band
drawn
up
on
the
poop.
Harry
found
himself
detailed
to
take
charge
of
the
men
controlling
the
halyard
for
the
great
ensign
streaming
proudly
from
the
gaff
as
the
Spanish
ships
closed
on
an
opposite
course,
their
spotless
sails
in
sharp
contrast
to
Spartan
'
s
own
weathered
canvas,
the
great
red
and
gold
ensigns
on
display.

             
The
band
struck
up
an
unfamiliar
tune
and
Harry
saw
the
leading
ship
'
s
ensign
begin
to
descend
slowly.
To
the
waiting
seamen
he
said,
"
Dip
the
colours.
"
Even
as
he
said
this,
the
first
sharp
bang
of
the
gun
salute
crashed
out
from
the
bow,
answered
almost
simultaneously
by
the
boom
of
the
Spaniard
'
s
gun.
Faintly
across
the
water
he
heard
the
sound
of
the
Spanish
band
playing
a
tune
he
barely
recognised
as
'
God
save
the
King
'
as
the
ship
'
s
passed
one
another
less
than
a
cable
apart.