The Yarn of Old Harbour TownRussell, William Clark
General
The Yarn of Old Harbour Town
Russell, William Clark
English fiction -- 20th century; Historical fiction; Sea stories
It had been arranged between Captain Acton and Admiral Lawrence that
the latter should breakfast at half-past nine with Captain Acton, who
would then fill an hour with transaction of certain business which he
could deal with in his own house, leaving the Admiral to amuse himself
in the grounds with his pipe, and, if he chose, a telescope; after
which they would walk leisurely down to Old Harbour, go on board the
_Minorca_, and take a farewell view of the vessel with a God-speed to
her new commander.
Lucy over-night had said she would join them, but she did not appear
at the breakfast table. Her father enquired for her, and was told that
she had left the house an hour earlier, or perhaps more, to take the
morning air and a walk with her dog.
Neither Captain Acton nor Miss Acton witnessed anything strange in
the absence of Lucy from the breakfast table. She was in the habit of
taking these early walks, and would often turn into a cottage whose
inmates she well knew and breakfast with the occupants, enjoying more
the egg warm from the nest, the home-cured rasher of bacon, the pot
of home-made jam, the slice of brown bread and sweet butter, the bowl
of new milk, or the cup of tea which on such grand occasions would be
introduced by her humble friends, than the choicest dainties which her
father's cook could send to the breakfast table at Old Harbour House.
"I expect you will find her down at the wharves waiting for the ship to
sail," said Miss Acton. "I met Mrs Jellybottle yesterday. She told me
that Farmer Jellybottle had received on the previous day a large parcel
of very substantial eatables from his brother, who is head gardener at
Lord Lancaster's. Lucy has possibly been tempted by the display."
"Here is her dog anyhow!" exclaimed the Admiral, as the little animal
marched into the room and stood near Lucy's chair with fore-foot lifted
as though she awaited her mistress.
"How sits the wind?" enquired Captain Acton, who being used to his
daughter's occasional absence took no particular interest in her
failure that morning to attend the breakfast table.
"I believe," said the Admiral, casting his eyes at the window, "that
it blows a pretty little off-shore breeze from the north. The sea is
rippled by it into a dark blue, and your ship will sail into it with
almost square yards."
"No ship of mine departs without my heart accompanying her," said
Captain Acton. "I believe I am bound to go in one of them to the West
Indies some day or other, but not whilst there's an enemy's cruiser to
be met with in the circle of the horizon."
"I suppose, sir," said Miss Acton to the Admiral, "that there is no
further news of the descent of the French."
"Plenty of news, madam," answered the Admiral, "but most of the reports
are lies born of fear. The French never can get a footing upon this
land."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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