A King`s Trade

list of expenditures to date t'repair our ship. We've not made much demand 'pon naval stores, yet, and, 'a penny saved is a penny earned,' as the old Rebel Benjamin Franklin used t'say. Salvaged guns goin' t'waste, free and clear of Prize-Court folderol, well…! Muster your boat crews, sir, but spare me my gig's hands and Cox'n. I'll have you a note for the stores ship in two shakes of a sheep's tail! Get me those guns, and as much round-shot as you can manage, another fifty or sixty, do they have 'em. Cartridge flannel, gun tools… Hell, take the Master Gunner with you and let him 'shop' to his heart's content. Slide-carriages, new breeching ropes, he'll know what's needful. Go, get ready!'

You steal or borrow, old son, Lewrie told himself as he trotted below to his desk for pen and paper; I'll do the begging!

'My word, sir,' the Flag-Captain said, rolling his eyes over a neatly-penned list of out-of-pocket expenses to put Proteus right. 'As much as that, what?'

'The local Dutch, as they say, sir, 'saw me coming,' and made the most of our predicament,' Lewrie uneasily explained, shifting one leg over the other as he sat before the senior officer's desk, thankful that the flagship's transom windows didn't face the stores ship, so that worthy couldn't see his boats scuttling 'cross Table Bay with the first of the requested goods. 'Not so much in materials, mind, but in labour, and hires, sir. The waggons and ox teams and su…'

'And you contracted all this without consulting me as to which part of it Sir Roger might authorise, sir?'

'I fully intend to present my sums to Admiralty, in London, as soon as we return to England, sir,' Lewrie purred back with a blandly reassuring smile. 'Proteus sailed under orders from Captain Treghues, sir, and is not, strictly, the responsibility of the Cape Station, so, I did not wish to impose my monetary needs upon Sir Roger, d'ye see.'

'Ah, well,' the Flag-Captain mused. 'Hmm. Not under our flag, as it were. A transient in need of repair, aha! Aye, it'd be proper to submit your expenditures to the Navy Board, 'stead of us.'

' Which'll be my problem, sir, since so much of the costs came from my own purse,' Lewrie told him, shifting uneasily once more; the very idea of how much his personal funds had been depleted was enough to break a sweat; a local bank now held a hefty note-of-hand that they would draw from his account at Coutts' Bank in London, a hefty sum he prayed Admiralty would reimburse… someday this century.

'Well, I must own to a sense of relief, Captain Lewrie, that we are not bound to offer recompense to you… or foot the bill, entire, to the local chandlers and such, ha ha!'

'Never even crossed my mind, sir,' Lewrie assured him, tossing in another disarming 'shit-eating' grin.

'So, Proteus is now ready for sea, in all respects?'

'Well, sir, there is the problem of my two damaged guns,' Lewrie casually allowed, crossing his legs the other way round. 'I have been informed the stores ship has no twelve-pounders available, so I could sail two pieces short, but… I am also told that she holds several twenty-four-pounder carronades salvaged most swiftly from the wrecked Lord Clive, and I had a thought to mount two of them in lieu of great-guns, temporarily. To be turned over to Gun Wharf, soon as we're back home. Other than that lack, we are, indeed, ready for sea, and for an engagement with any lurking French raider or privateer, sir. Unless a greater need exists here on the Cape Station for 'em, that is.'

He crossed the fingers of his left hand, down below the edge of the desk where the Flag-Captain couldn't see them.

'I'd be very much obliged, eternally grateful, really, to have your permission to indent for two of them, sir, along with sufficient round-shot for a brief engagement, should that occur.'

'Hmmm…' the Flag-Captain said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

'With the rest of Captain Treghues's ships now halfway to India or China, Proteus must either become part of the Cape Squadron, or be assigned to bolster the escort of one of the other 'John Company' convoys, I'd suppose, so…' Lewrie suggested. 'Perhaps the one waiting to depart in harbour now, sir?'

'Aye, Captain Leatherwood would find you useful, Lewrie,' the Flag-Captain informed him with a smile of his own. 'Some trouble with the previous escorting frigate reefing down too late in a squall just off Ceylon. A squall, and a heavy roll that put her on her beam ends, and rolled her masts right out of her. She put back to Calcutta, or the nearest port with a yard, under jury masts, and Captain Wheeler had to request the assistance of a warship from the Bombay Marine, which saw his convoy as far as the Southern tip of Madagascar. Not allowed to operate West of Good Hope, the Bombay Marine, and, not much of a sea-force, either. A few British officers of doubtful abilities, and the

crews made up of God knows what sort of natives. Low-caste Hindoos at the best…'

'Who can cross the 'great black water' without breaking their caste, aye, sir,' Lewrie happily supplied.

'Been in Indian waters yourself, sir?' the Flag-Captain asked.

' 'Tween the wars, sir, aye.'

'Under the circumstances, then, I do believe that Leatherwood will find you more than welcome, Captain Lewrie,' the Flag-Captain said with a beamish smile, as if that settled the matter. 'Bad run of luck, all round, has Captain Leatherwood. Three of his charges took bad water aboard when they victualled, and there's been sickness among passengers and crew.'

'Cholera, sir?' Lewrie asked with a shudder of dread. Cholera was to blame for most of the untimely deaths among Britons who sailed East to make their fortunes.

'No, thank the Lord,' the Flag-Captain told him with a shudder of his own, and a rap of his knuckles for luck on his desktop. 'A bit of 'gippy-tummy,' mal de mer, and 'the runs,' but no deaths. It'll be a day or two more, before they scrap their water casks and load fresh ones, then fill them with safe Cape Town water.'

'My brother-in-law's a passenger aboard the Lord Stormont, sir,' Lewrie said. 'He said nothing of it when we met, and looked healthy as a horse.'

'Don't believe she was one of the affected ships.'

'Uhm… about those carronades, sir,' Lewrie reminded him one more time. 'Might I have your permission to indent for them, if this Captain Wheeler is in immediate need of a frigate, sir?'

'Don't see why not, Captain Lewrie,' the Flag-Captain allowed with an easy chuckle. 'It's not as if short-ranged carronades will be doing us much good here. 'Tis proper fortress guns we need. Thirty- two-pounders and fourty-twos, but will Admiralty, or even the Army's Artillery Board at Woolwich, respond to our needs? Can't hold this harbour without, should the French stir themselves, but…' He dug into his desk for paper and pen, a steel-nib much like Lewrie's, and opened his brass inkwell to begin scribbling a formal indenture.

Thank bloody Christ! was Lewrie's thought; That was easy!

'There ye are, Lewrie,' the Flag-Captain said, handing over the note to the stores ship. 'Put them to good use, if needs be.'

'Hopefully, sir, we'll yawn our way to Channel Soundings, but I am indeed grateful to you, no matter,' Lewrie declared as he got to his feet. For a quick exit, before the Flag-Captain could change his mind! 'I'll be going, then sir and thank you once again for all you have done for us.'

'A good voyage, Captain Lewrie,' that worthy replied as he rose as well and offered his hand in parting. 'Fair winds, calm seas… all that, what?'

His gig came alongside the starboard entry-port just about the same time that the first carronade's slide- carriage was being hoisted aloft from the ship's cutter in a sling hung off the main course yardarm. All the gun-ports gaped open, the port lids raised to show their red interior paint, and Lewrie was delighted to see that the two aftermost in his great-cabins already were yawning empty, and the red tompions stuck in the muzzles of the 12- pounders which had occupied those ports were now brooding in the amidships gun-ports.