"Bolitho 02 - Midshipman Bolitho & Avenger(txt)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kent Alexander)

He dashed towards the horse, hacking the lantern from its spar so that it fell burning on the wet sand. The horse reared away, kicking with terror, as more shots whined overhead.
Bolitho heard his companions yelling like madmen, saw the seaman, Babbage, hack down a charging figure with his cutlass before running on to cut away the next lantern.
A voice yelled, `Shoot those buggers down!' Someone else screamed in pain as a stray ball found a mark.
Figures fanned out on every side, advancing slowly, hampered and probably confused by Pyke's pistol fire from the hillside.
One dashed forward, and Bolitho fired, seeing the man's contorted face as the ball flung him backwards on to the beach.
Others pressed in, more daring now that they realized there were only three facing them.
Bolitho locked blades with one, while Babbage, slashing and hacking with his heavy cutlass, fought two men single-handed.
Bolitho could feel his adversary's fury, but found time to hear Trillo give just one frantic cry as he was struck down by a whole group of slashing weapons.
`Damn your eyes!' The man was gasping between his teeth. `Now you die, you bloody rummager!'
Dazed, his mind and body cringing to the inevitability of death, Bolitho was shocked at his own anger. To die was one thing, but to be mistaken for a revenue man was like the final insult.
He remembered with stark clarity how his father had taught him to defend himself. Twisting his wrist with all his strength he plucked the other man's sword from his hand. As he blundered past him he pointed his hanger and then laid it across his neck and shoulder.
Then something struck the side of his head and he was on his knees, dimly aware that Babbage was trying to stand guard above him, his cutlass hissing through the air like an arrow.
But darkness was closing across his mind, and he felt his cheek grind into the wet sand as he pitched headlong, his body exposed to the nearest thrusting blades.
Soon now. He could hear horses and more shouts through the painful blur in his brain.
His last conscious thought was that he hoped his mother would not see him like this.

5
Bait

Bolitho opened his eyes very slowly. As he did so he groaned, the sound thrusting straight through his aching body, as if from the soles of his feet.
He struggled to remember what had happened, and as realization, like the returning pain in his skull, came flooding back, he stared round with dazed bewilderment.
He was lying on a thick fur rug in front of a roaring log fire, still wearing his soiled uniform, which in the great heat was steaming as if about to burst into flames.
Someone was kneeling behind him, and he saw a girl's scrubbed hands reaching round to support his head, which he knew was bandaged.
She murmured, `Rest easy, zur.' Over her shoulder she called, `He's awake!'
Bolitho heard a familiar, booming voice, and saw Sir. Henry Vyvyan standing above him, his one eye peering down as he said, `Awake, girl, he damn near died on us!'
He bellowed at some invisible servants and then added more calmly, `God swamp me, boy, that was a damn fool thing to do. Another second and those ruffians would have had your liver on the sand!' He handed a goblet to the girl. `Give him some of this.' He shook his head as Bolitho tried to swallow the hot drink. `What would I have told yer mother, eh??
'The others, sir?' Bolitho tried to think clearly, remembering Trillo's cry, his last sound on earth.
Vyvyan shrugged. `One dead. A damned miracle.' He sounded as if he could still not believe it. `A handful of men against those devils!'
`I thank you, sir. For saving our lives.'
'Nothin' to it, m'boy.' Vyvyan smiled crookedly, the scar across his face looking even more savage in the shadows. `I came with my men because I heard the gun. I was out with 'em anyway. The Navy isn't the only intelligence round here, y'know!'
Bolitho lay still and looked straight up at the high ceiling. He could see the girl watching him, her eyes very blue, frowning with concern.
So Vyvyan had known all about it. Hugh should have guessed. But for him they would all be dead.
He asked, `And the ship, sir?'
`Aground. But safe enough 'til mornin'. I sent your boatswain to take charge.' He tapped his big nose. `Nice bit of salvage there, I shouldn't wonder, eh?'
A door opened somewhere and a voice said harshly, `Most of 'em got away, sir. We cut down two, but the rest scattered amongst the rocks an' caves. They'll be miles away by dawn.' He chuckled. `Caught one of 'em though.'
Vyvyan sounded thoughtful. `But for the ship, and the need to "help these sailors, we might have caught the lot.' He rubbed his chin. `But still, we'll have a hangin' all the same. Show these scum the old fox is not asleep, eh?'
The door closed just as silently.
`I am sorry, sir. I feel it is all my fault.'
`Nonsense! Did yer duty. Quite right too. Only way.' He added grimly, `But I'll be. havin' a sharp word with yer brother, make no mistake on it!'
The heat of the fire, his exhaustion and the effect of something in the drink, made Bolitho fall into a deep sleep. When he awoke again it was morning, the hard wintry light streaming in through the windows of Vyvyan Manor.
Freeing himself from two thick blankets he got gingerly to his feet and stared at himself in a wall mirror. He looked more like a survivor than a victor.
He saw Vyvyan watching him from one of the doorways.
Vyvyan asked, `Ready, boy? My steward tells me that your vessel is anchored off the cove. I've been up most of the night m'self, so I know how you're feelin'.' He grinned. `But still, nothin' broken. Just a headache for a few days, eh?'
Bolitho put on his coat and hat. He noticed that both had been cleaned, and someone had mended a rent in one of the sleeves where a blade hash iuissed his arm by less than an inch.
It was a cold, bright morning, with the snow changed to slush and the sky without a trace of cloud. Had the night been like this the ship would have seen the danger and the smugglers would have
picked up their cargo from the cove.
If... if ... if ... It was too late now.
Vyvyan's coach dropped him on the narrow coast
road above the headland, and to his astonishment he
saw Dancer and some seamen waiting for him, and