The King`s Coat

gentlemen. ’Do you know how soon Sir ansley will be going home, sir?' Alan had to enquire. 'His replacement, Sir George Sinclair, is purported to be on his way already. ’

‘Sir ansley and Lady Maude have been most kind to me, sir. I shall miss him. Came as a shock.' Alan sighed. Treghues nodded, remembering that Lewrie himself was one of Sir ansley's followers. 'Then you shall be relieved to know that Sir ansley shall be appointed to the Admiralty Board upon his return to London,' Treghues said, handing him the tacit reassurance that the admiral could still look out for him even thousands of miles away. ’There is also a scheme that Admiral Rodney wished to put into action regarding these so-called neutral islands,' Treghues informed his gathering. 'I cannot reveal any details as of yet, but you can be sure that Desperate shall playa part in it, and it may promise to be a most rewarding part, for the public good, and our private gain.’

Once Desperate began to let her people ashore in manageable batches for shore leave, Mr. Monk and the bosun discovered a healthy crop of underwater growth on her bottom. She should have put to sea immediately once her people were back inboard, but it was thought a good opportunity to bream her.

This involved everyone in nearly a week of heavy labor, hoisting out all her guns, powder and shot, beef and pork barrels, striking her masts down to maintops and gantlines, and warping her into the inner harbor where she was careened at low tide on a sand bank so the dock workers could bum and scour her bottom clean, then coat her with a mix of sulfur, tallow and pitch to retard future marine growth.

While she was empty, the carpenter and his crew inspected her for rot in her bilges and below-water beams and keel members. She was pronounced healthy for at least another year in the tropics, where any proud ship could be eaten down to hollow kindling once the teredo worms got to her.

With nearly a knot and a half restored to her best speed, they floated her upright and began to reload her. They had just begun to hoist topmasts once she was back at her moorings when the day's work was interrupted by the sound of a salute being fired.

Lewrie went up the shrouds with a glass, eager for a chance to take a breather, and watched a handsome thirty-two-gun frigate ghosting into harbor, firing a salute to Hood and the forts. At her mizzen truck she flew a broad pendant, the sign of a commodore or rear admiral. ’So that's our new commodore,' Lewrie said, half to himself. 'We won't sail right away, not if Matthews will be hauling down his flag. We shall all want to get to know the new man.’

It was a farewell ball for Sir ansley and Lady Maude, and the introductory social event for Commodore Sir George Sinclair. Tbe harbor gleamed in another of those splendid West Indies sunsets that Alan had come to enjoy so much, though there was not a breath of wind and the summer evening was close, hot and humid. By the time their party from Desperate had climbed the hill road on foot to Admiralty House, their shirts and waistcoats were glued to them by sweat. Fortunately there was, like a tops'l breeze, a cooling breath of the Trades once atop the hill, and servants offered towels so they could mop themselves down.

Admiral Hood was present, standing tall and slim and beaky over the normal-sized guests, surrounded by a set of admirers. Sir ansley and Lady Maude were off in a comer with less of a coterie; he was now only a half-pay rear admiral of the red, and sycophants no longer had to be quite so attentive. The crowd had transferred their attention to the newest officer by the buffets, eager to get a first look at their new Commodore. That was where the Dockyard Superintendent, the Master Attendant and the Prize Court Agents lurked and simpered.

Admiral Rodney had gone home with his fabulous prize fieet, so Treghues had to settle for lesser lights, and led them first to Sir ansley. Their former admiral looked even fatter than ever, ever-strangling in a neckcloth too tight for him, and Lady Maude had chosen a bilious purple-and-grey satin sackgown, a poor comparison to her complexion. If it weren't for Sir 00sley's uniform they would have looked like servants. ’Sir Oosley… Lady Maude. Your servant, sir.. ‘. ’Oh, Alan Lewrie,' Lady Maude said. 'My, they feed you well in Desperate. You must have grown another inch since we saw you last.’

’We have been living quite well for a cruiser, Lady Maude. ’

‘Mister Lewrie,' Sir ansley said, offering his hand. 'You are looking 'Bristol Fashion,' I must say.’

’Thank you, Sir Onsley. I… I was most distressed to hear you and Lady Maude would be going back to England,' Lewrie began, trying to make his prepared speech sound natural. 'May I say that I shall always be grateful for your and Lady Maude's many kindnesses and considerations. I hope your voyage is tranquil, and your next post rewarding. ’

‘Thankee, Mister Lewrie. Most kind,' Sir Onsley said. 'I'll miss the islands, damme if! won't. But, you have to make way for younger men.’

’I am certain the islands shall miss you, too, Sir Onsley. I'm sure I speak for many who served under you.' He smiled. Yes, they'll miss the sight of Glarton sitting out there like the Pharos, Lewrie thought. ’Be odd not to have a sea command after all these years,' Sir Onsley maundered on, now well into his wine cups. ’Sir George Sinclair would have to be a most impressive officer to replace you, sir. Or match our record of success in reducing the number of privateers and all,' Lewrie said, wondering if he really knew when to stop toadying before even Sir Onsley noticed. ’We have stuck a dry bone in Brother Jonathan's throat, have we not?' Sir Onsley chuckled. Dead-lazy or not, Sir Onsley was going home rich as Croesus from prize money reaped by his squadron. ’Only thing I regret is I'm going to miss the last act out here,' Sir Onsley said. 'Here, walk with me and we'll have some wine, boy. Do you know anything about DeGrasse?' Something to eat? Lewrie thought. 'No, sir.’

’Damn crafty Frog admiral. Left Brest back in the spring and he got down to Martinique with a huge convoy and a fleet of line-of-battle ships. Sam Hood's crossed swords with him once so far, pretty much of a draw. But he's here for a purpose, and it won't be good when it comes. Met Sam Hood yet?’

‘No, sir.’

’Then come with me.’

And before Lewrie knew it, he was bowing to that worthy, who looked down that long nose at him. Sir Onsley bubbled on about Lewrie's record and what ship he was in at present. 'Yes, Mister Lewrie,' Hood said with a meager smile. 'Believe I read something about Ariadne. Knew Bales long ago, you know. And it was Parrot, I believe, before Desperate?’

‘Aye, sir,' Lewrie said, almost quivering with excitement.

The admiral had indeed actually heard something of him. 'Damn glad to meet you, Mister Lewrie. You keep up that sort of work,' Hood told him, before shifting his eyes away. 'I shall, sir,' Lewrie promised. allowing himself to be led off by Sir Onsley. 'Put in a word for you. Never hurts for him to remember what you look like,' Sir Onsley said, now firmly playing naval politics. 'He must have a thousand midshipmen, but he'll know you.’

And you'll be on the Board at the Admiralty, giving advice and support to Hood, so he's amenable to a good relationship with you, but at what price? Lewrie speculated, sipping his wine, noticing for the first time that it was champagne and as cold as mortal sin. ’Ah, I see Treghues has already found our new commodore,' Sir Onsley noted, jutting his chin across the room to point at Alan's captain and a thin, reedy stick of a man in a coat a bit too faded to be fashionable at a ball. Still, it was laced as a captain's coat, but for the buttons set in threes. Sir George Sinclair wore a tight periwig with close side curls, emphasizing the skin as dark as any foredeck hand, making those sharp eyes and down-turned hook of a nose appear even more daunting. ’A real taut hand, is Sinclair,' Sir Onsley continued. 'Put up his first broad pendant when the French came in in '78, and was a real terror off Bordeaux, I'm told. Got knighted at Quiberon Bay in the last war and earned it three times over. We are not close, but I did have a chance to mention a few people by way of recommendation. I do not think you would mind if Sir George knew of my regard for you.’

’Not at all, sir. Your thoughtfulness at a time like this is… I cannot find the words, Sir Onsley.’

It was heady stuff to be endorsed as able by a man who now had distant control over the officers he would be answering to in future. Lewrie had not thought to wonder how well regarded Sir Onsley was when it came to choosing followers. But he had yet to hear that he was as inept as Admiral Rodney, so it might be alright for his career.

296 Dewey Lambdin He felt success falling like a laurel wreath in some fever dream, slow and catchable, right into his outstretched hands. He had won over Captain Bales, had convinced Kenyon of his ability-even if Kenyon was a Molly, Alan stilI respected his skills. He had caught Sir Onsley's eye as a comer, was well recommended to Admiral Hood (another comer), and now was most likely going to cap the evening by winning the same notice from his new admiral of the squadron! Why had he not joined the Navy years ago, so that he then could have been entered on ships' books for six years? There was a commission in the offing, and he knew,