Course Adjustments E-Book

Maggie Williams Richmond

• Herausgeber: novum pro Verlag
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 247

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Spring 1625. Jack, a young Scottish baker longing for adventure, seizes the opportunity to work on a trading boat, the Eagle, bound for Belgium and France. When the Eagle is forced to halt in La Rochelle for repairs, Jack discovers that his childhood friend Robin has gone missing after fighting for the Huguenots in the Battle of Blavet. Feeling obliged to seek him out, Jack's new journey takes him across northern Spain, where suspicion of both foreigners and non-Catholics is widespread. After encountering thieves masquerading as pilgrims, Jack discovers that possessing a book by Galileo can be dangerous: he needs to leave in a hurry! Set in the turbulent world of 17th century Europe, this story draws on real historical figures in a Britain and Europe uncannily like our own.

Leseprobe

CONTENTS

IMPRINT 2

IN MEMORIAM 3

CITATION 4

CHAPTER ONE 6

CHAPTER TWO 14

CHAPTER THREE 21

CHAPTER FOUR 29

CHAPTER FIVE 39

CHAPTER SIX 47

CHAPTER SEVEN 56

CHAPTER EIGHT 62

CHAPTER NINE 68

CHAPTER TEN 76

CHAPTER ELEVEN 84

CHAPTER TWELVE 91

CHAPTER THIRTEEN 98

CHAPTER FOURTEEN 104

CHAPTER FIFTEEN 115

CHAPTER SIXTEEN 124

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 130

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 138

CHAPTER NINETEEN 145

AUTHOR’S NOTE 149

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 150

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION 151

IMPRINT

All rights of distribution, also through movies, radio and television, photomechanical reproduction, sound carrier, electronic medium and reprinting in excerpts are reserved.

© 2023 novum publishing

ISBN print edition: 978-3-99131-432-5

ISBN e-book: 978-3-99131-433-2

Editor: Roderick Pritchard-Smith

Cover images: Grafxart, Kriscole | Dreamstime.com

Cover design, layout & typesetting:novum publishing

www.novum-publishing.co.uk

IN MEMORIAM

Peter Lawrence Williams

(b/d 26 Dec.1935)

David Lester Williams

(1952–2019)

CITATION

‘People will not look forward

to posterity who never look backward

to their ancestors.’

Edmund Burke (1729–1797)

Spring 1625. Seizing

the opportunity for an adventure,

a restless young Scotsman

travels through a foreign war zone

in search of his childhood friend

who has gone missing after

the Battle of Blavet.

CHAPTER ONE

The dining hall at Hawkhill is exactly as Elspeth likes it to be – a rare occurrence. The fire is burning brightly in the hearth. The shutters are open to let in the spring sunshine and a soft breeze. Her closest family are seated around the long oak table. The dresser is groaningly laden with dishes of fish, pots of vegetables, baskets of baps and bannocks, and the last of the apples and pears, retrieved from the cool scullery where they’ve been stored since last autumn. Davie and young Harry are topping up the tankards of ale, while Nellie darts to and fro between the hall and the kitchen, where wee Gytha is scouring the pans and longingly eyeing the comfits that are being kept back for the end of this feast.

‘Nellie, you’ve done us proud!’ Will says, smiling at the housekeeper.

‘Och, Master, thank you – but Gytha’s done her fair share, and Master Jack made the breads for us.’

Jack flushes, as all eyes turn to him, and he takes a breath in.

‘There’s something I’d …’ he starts – but he’s missed his chance.

‘What a shame Billy couldn’t join us too,’ Elspeth is saying. ‘It would’ve been lovely to have all our nephews together for once, wouldn’t it Will?’

Will looks down the table at his sister. ‘Aye, it would, but I daresay he can’t get away from the inn. Horses don’t look after themselves! But it’s good that Sandy made it – and kind of the Setons to let him come home.’

Sandy gives a small smug smile and a nod, feeling pleased by his uncle’s recognition. It was no trouble to walk the five miles this morning from Pinkie House. He knows he’s fallen on his feet, working as a gardener to Lord Winton. He enjoys both the creativity and the labour of the job, and his employer has a rare tolerant attitude, encompassing new ideas as well as old traditions. Today is a good example. Not everyone was happy when King James re-introduced the celebration of Christmas and Easter. Even fewer people now mark Mothering Sunday, one of the old festival days in Lent, when people used to go back to their ‘mother church’ where they were baptised. But the Setons, and especially Lord Winton himself, are staunch Catholics. They embrace what others decry as ‘Papist nonsense’, and today they have given all their staff a rare and welcome day off.

‘You must mind and say thank you to his lordship,’ Elspeth reminds Sandy, then raises her eyebrows. ‘I hope he’s not missing these daffs you’ve brought me?’

‘Nae, Auntie,’ Sandy replies, havering between amusement and irritation that his aunt still treats him as if he were nine, not nineteen.

‘I grew them on my own patch,’ he tells her, ‘under the apple trees – but the grounds are full of them, a regular sea of yellow!’

‘Speaking of seas …’ Jack leaps back into the conversation, ‘I’ve something to tell you all.’

‘Oh, Jack, just a moment. Nellie’s bringing in the pie!’

Jack deflates like a pricked balloon, feeling the weary sort of resignation that his family increasingly provokes. Everyone’s attention has turned to the centrepiece of the meal, the meat pie, releasing its delicious savoury aroma as Will slices and serves it. Sighing, Jack chides himself that it’s his own fault. He really should have known better than to try to compete for attention with food – and with his three younger brothers. This is how it’s been ever since they all came to live here with Aunt Elspeth and Uncle Will, after their foster-grannie, Ma Mayne, died. Lucky for Billy that he inherited her cottage, and for Sandy, that he got to move away for his work. Not that Jack’s not glad of this comfortable home, the slightly fussy love of his old-fashioned aunt, the gentle guidance of his uncle – he’s just grown out of it. He’s twenty-one now. For the last five years, he’s been striding day and night to and fro to Leith and back to his work at MacMorran’s Mill. It’s good work, fetching the grains from the merchant ships at the dock, overseeing the lads to make sure they adjust the grindstone for the oats, the barley, or the wheat … and of course the baking itself. It’s served Jack well, and no doubt it will again, but first …

‘Could you all please listen a moment? I’ve some news.’

The babble of voices continues around him, as his family pile their plates high, stretching out for just another spoonful. The youngsters are chewing and talking at the same time, and Sandy is describing his latest planting scheme for the new herb garden at Seton House.

‘Please, could you listen?’

At the far end of the table, Will catches the urgency in Jack’s tone. He glances across at him and realises that this usually placid and quiet lad is about to erupt.

‘Quiet all of you!’ he says, not loudly, but in his school-masterly tone that cannot be ignored. A hush falls. Jack blushes and gulps.

‘Jack, you’ve something to tell us,’ Will says, looking his nephew in the eye, giving him a smile and an encouraging nod. ‘We’re listening now. What is it we need to know, eh, lad?’

‘Um, it’s just, I thought you all should know …’

‘You’ve got a girl!’

‘You’ve lost your job!’

‘Harry, Davie, stop sniggering and be quiet. Jack, you’re not ill are you?’ Elspeth asks, noticing how pale he is.

‘No, I’m not ill, and it’s not about a girl …’ he falters, the interruptions having almost robbed him of his momentum. He takes a deep breath.

‘Um, yes, so it is about my job. Well, sort of. I’ve spoken with Miller MacMorran …’

‘Oh,’ Elspeth interrupts, ‘such a pleasant man. And so good of him to give you your job. But then, his pa always had a soft spot for your dear ma, and you’ve certainly inherited her talent for baking. I always say …’

‘Elspeth, stop,’ Will intervenes, laughing. ‘You don’t know yet what Jack’s trying to tell us! Go on lad, make it quick!’

All right then,Jack thinks,I can do quick!

‘I’m leaving. I’m leaving tomorrow on a ship called Eagle. Miller MacMorran says if I’m home in three months I can have my job back, and until then wee Brodie can take my place … And if Davie wants it,’ he looks at his brother, ‘you can take Brodie’s place with the other millers.’

‘Yes!’ Davie punches the air in delight. ‘No more school!’

‘Um, so that’s it really,’ says Jack, bowing his head slightly, and peering up from under his brows to gauge his family’s reactions. Davie’s is obvious, as he begins to lord it over Harry, the youngest of the brood and doomed to another year at school. Sandy gives him a thumbs up – and keeps on eating. Elspeth and Will look thunderstruck. Will recovers first.

‘Let me get this straight, Jack. You’re leaving the mill for three months, someone called Brodie is taking your place … and Davie can take Brodie’s place …’

Jack nods. ‘Aye, that’s it.’

‘… and you’re going off on a ship called Eagle? God’s teeth, lad – sorry, Elspeth – but why? Where’s all this coming from? What’s happening?’

Will gets up, yanks Harry off his chair next to Jack, and takes his place.

‘Harry, go sit in my chair by Davie and Sandy – and mind you all keep the noise down. Your aunt and I need to talk to Jack.’

Pulling faces at his brother, Harry does as he’s told, and the three youngsters are happy to get on with their meal – with a few extras since no one is looking. Nellie, popping her head around the door to see that everyone’s happy with their meal, sees the serious faces of her master and mistress, and retreats to the kitchen.

I’ll hear about it soon enough, she thinks to herself, and turns to the young kitchen maid.

‘Gytha, I don’t think we’ll be needed in the hall for a while, and you’ve finished the cook-pots, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, Miss Nellie. They’re all done.’ Gytha points anxiously at the gleaming stack.

‘Then it’s time for our dinner. Pass us your plate …’

Gytha is swift to obey. She’s still adjusting to the comforts of life at Hawkhill, after spending all of her twelve years in the poor house.Surely,she thinks,life can’t get better than this!

In the dining hall, Jack is feeling both relieved and sheepish.

‘Uncle Will, Aunt Elspeth, I’m sorry to have dropped this on you so suddenly. I didn’t know how else to do it. I wanted everyone to know at the same time …’

‘It’s all right, Jack,’ Will reassures him. ‘I know it’s hard for you to get a word in edgewise, and you’re right to tell us all …’

‘But it’s a shock,’ Elspeth adds. ‘Jack, what’s going on? Have you been so unhappy? Could you not have tell’t me? Or Uncle Will?’

‘Oh, no, please don’t think that.’ Jack takes his aunt’s hand, gives it a gentle squeeze. ‘It’s not that I’ve been unhappy, just, ach I don’t know, restless? My mates who work on the ships, they’re always telling me where they’ve been, what they’ve seen – so many strange places, strange people. I suppose I’ve been envying them, imagining what it must all be like …’

‘And getting itchy feet?’ Will suggests.

‘Exactly. I can’t put my finger on it, but I’ve felt more and more unsettled for … oh, for ages now. So when I heard that they’re a man down on the Eagle, after Buchan broke his leg and was laid off, I had a word with Master Flint. I’d already met him, of course, had a few drinks with him and the lads whenever they were in Leith. And he’s said he’ll take me on!’

Telling his tale, Jack is getting his confidence back, feeling that the worst – making his announcement – is over.

‘It’s great, isn’t it? Even ‘though I’ve no experience, never set foot outside Scotland, Flinty – I mean, Master Flint – he says I can go. It’ll be hard work, and I’ve a lot to learn … but I really need this.’ He looks his uncle in the eye. ‘I want to do something different, just for a while …I’m sorry …’

His voice trails off. Jack’s not used to expressing how he feels. It’s embarrassing, childish, weak? His head droops again. But suddenly he feels his uncle’s strong arms go around him, and he’s being hugged so hard he can barely breathe.

‘Jack, you’re a good lad. I should’ve told you more often,’ Will says, ‘and I should’ve seen that you need a break, aye, and a bit of adventure, mebbe? I can’t say it’s not a surprise, and I can’t say I don’t have a few misgivings … but I know better than to try and stop you. Why, you’re older than I was when me and your father, God rest his soul, and our brother Andrew all ran off and joined the army of the Netherlands. Changed all our lives, that did.’

Will’s mind flashes back to those days, fighting with the Dutch for their independence from Spain. In amongst the blood and the muck, the fear, the camaraderie, and the occasional bouts of boredom, Will had fallen in love, for the first and only time. Not a day passes but he doesn’t remember Pieter; not a night passes but he sees again Pieter’s body lying on the battlefield, perfect but for the one deep wound.

All this time, Elspeth has been sitting quietly, picking at her dinner. But now she’s had enough.

‘And is that all you’ve got to say to your nephew, Will Balfour? You did it, so he can do it? Mercy on us, I never heard the like! Oh yes,’ she carries on, her voice rising as Will begins to protest, ‘yes, I’m sure all the three of you thought you were off on a fine adventure. But Hendrie nearly died, that time you brought him home, and then there were all those shenanigans that we won’t talk about here …’ She gives Will a stern look, knowing that he knows what she’s referring to. ‘And Andrew never came home again, just off and marrying the Dutch girl, and then there’s you!’

Oh God, Will thinks, conscious of the silence that’s fallen around the table, and the four pairs of sharp young ears.Now what’s she going to say!

‘You left the army and just drifted around for years! Och, I know you finally settled down here with me, took up your school-mastering … And I know you’ve been a good uncle to these lads here. But honestly Will, I just think if you and Andrew and the boys’ father had never gone off to that damn army, it would’ve been better all round. And now …’

Elspeth’s got the bit between her teeth. Usually so calm and quiet, her fears for her family, for the boys, for Jack especially, sound like anger.

‘… yes, now Jack’s about to do the same thing, to throw everything up! For the sake of what? An adventure! Ha!’

She looks her nephew up and down.

‘Jack, I can’t forbid you to go and I won’t even try. But I think you’re making a very big mistake. So you think, and think hard! Regrets are something it’s impossible to get rid of. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go for my rest.’

Will and Jack jump to their feet to help her, but she shakes them off. Reaching for her two trusty sticks to lean on, her crooked back making her walk unevenly, her aching legs making her slow, she inches her way to the door and out of the room. No one says a word.

‘Nellie!’ they hear Elspeth call. ‘Help me to my room, if you please.’

As the sound of footsteps diminishes up the stairs, Will and the boys begin to breathe again.

‘God’s teeth,’ Will says, ‘I’m sorry about that, lads. You do know it was more directed at me and my brothers than at you all? I never knew my sister was so upset – has been so upset for all these years.’

‘But she’s not wrong, is she?’ Sandy says. ‘I mean, about what the army did to you all?’

‘Ach, lad, the army was both good and bad, just like anything else. And no one can ever know what would, what might, have happened if we hadn’t joined up! But …’

Will is interrupted by Harry, the youngest. ‘I don’t want Jack to go. Not unless I can go too! It’s not fair. I’ll be the only one left, the only one still going to school. I’m fourteen now. I’ve learned enough!’

‘No. You’re not leaving school yet. One more year, that’s what we agreed, Harry, and then the world’s your oyster.’ Will turns to Jack. ‘Jack, I’m sorry your aunt’s upset. But you know, it’s out of love, fear and love, for you, for all of you. She just wants to keep you all safe. This is her world and it’s small. You know she’s never been able to get about much herself. This is all she knows.’

‘I still think she’s right,’ Sandy insists. ‘Jack’s throwing over a good job, and for what? For a whim!’

‘But it means I get to leave school, go and work at the mill,’ Davie chips in. ‘I think you should go, Jack!’

Will, Jack, and even Sandy, laugh at Davie’s self-interested opinion, and the atmosphere relaxes a little.

Jack, who hasn’t said a word since his aunt began her harangue, finally speaks.

‘I’m sorry I’ve upset Aunt Elspeth. I’m sorry to have spoilt this meal. I should’ve told you sooner. But I’m not changing my mind. I’m still going in the morning.’

CHAPTER TWO

The next day dawns grey, with a mist in the air that clings to the skinny branches of the rowan trees, glistens from the intricate spider’s webs, and drips onto the cobbled lanes of Restalrig. Jack never gives it a thought. What does the weather matter? After a restless night, he’s eager to be off, his pack already stuffed with a few essentials – a change of clothes, a knife, a spoon, a pair of spring scissors, his flageolet, and a small bag of coins. His bed-roll is tied on underneath the pack with some stout cord. After a scant wash, he pulls on his tunic, jacket, and breeches, and, carrying his shoes and his pack, creeps down the stairs. There was enough bother yesterday without running into anyone today and starting it all off again, just minutes from leaving. Jack’s stomach is already churning with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. But perhaps there’s time to filch a couple of the bannocks he made himself and some cheese from the kitchen? If he can’t eat them now, he’s sure to want something later.

‘Jack, there you are lad!’

‘Who …? Oh, Uncle Will! I didn’t expect anyone else to be up. I was just …’

‘You were just about to sneak off, weren’t you?’ Will says with a smile, to show he’s not cross. ‘I know. Yesterday was enough, wasn’t it! But I couldn’t let you go off on your own, lad, and besides, you need something in your stomach. Oh yes,’ he insists over Jack’s protests, ‘I know you’ll be feeling queasy, but you hardly ate anything yesterday. Look, there’s a sausage bap here with your name on it, and this’ll wash it down well.’

Will hands Jack a tankard of small beer, takes a deep draught of his own, and they both munch in silence for a few minutes.

‘Thanks, Uncle Will. You were right. I don’t feel so shaky now!’ Jack admits. ‘But I’d better get going.’

He hefts his pack onto his back, squinting over his shoulder as his uncle shoves something into the top.

‘Just something to see you on,’ Will says. ‘And I’ll walk with you, if I may? I’ve plenty of time to see you to Leith and get back before old Dunlop rings the school bell.’

Striding away along the lane, the two men are so deep in conversation that they don’t hear the call from behind them – ‘Jack, wait! Jack? Come back! Please come back. I haven’t said goodbye …’ – and nor do they turn to see the bent and forlorn figure of Elspeth, propped on one of her sticks at the doorway, her hand waving farewell, her cheeks wet with tears, her heart heavy with regret.

‘So the Eagle, she’s one of the Baltic traders isn’t she?’ Will asks.

‘Aye,’ Jack replies, sounding surprisingly glum. ‘I’d hoped to be seeing Riga and Visby and Stettin – don’t you just love those names! But no, that’s not to be. Flinty says there’s too much trouble at the moment, you know, with the Swedes and the Dutch, to make that passage safe. We’re bound for Bordeaux and Bilbao, by way of Bruges and La Rochelle.’

‘Are you, by God!’ Will sounds surprised. ‘There’s been a fair bit of trouble among the French down that way – but it must be quieter now, or else Master Flint wouldn’t take that route.’ Will pauses, thinks for a moment. ‘Jack,’ he asks, ‘d’you remember Rab Logan? He used to live at Pitcullo, near your Aunt Missy in Fife.’

‘Of course,’ Jack replies, smiling. ‘We used to mess about with his lads when we visited Missy and Walter – and their lads too. Quite a gang we all were, nine of us – us five, Robin and Jon, and Jamie and Mel.’

‘Aye, a load of ruffians! But the thing is, the Logans have moved, did you know? Jesette’s father died, so she and Rab are running her family’s estate. Her mother’s getting on a bit now, and moved in with her sister I believe. There was no one else. Our second cousin, another William, and his wife Helena Napier, they’re at Pitcullo now. Ach, but that’s beside the point! What I wanted to say was, if you get the chance, you could p’rhaps visit Rab? I believe it’s inland from La Rochelle where they are, near Surgères. The Cosse estate.’

Jack doesn’t answer. Visiting old family friends isn’t high on his agenda. They walk a few moments in silence, until, glancing at his uncle, Jack notices his faraway and rather sad expression.

‘Are you all right, Uncle Will?’

‘Och aye.’ Will comes out of his reverie. ‘I was just remembering what Elspeth spoke about yesterday, how I set off with your pa and your uncle Andrew – off to join the army of the Netherlands. I’d almost forgotten that feeling, that mixture of longing and dread!’ Will laughs.

‘Exactly!’ Jack is both relieved and slightly amazed that a middle-aged schoolmaster might know what it feels like to be off on an adventure.

‘Aye, and years later, after I’d come back from Flanders, I met another lad, young Conn – a bit of an Irish rebel he was! It was around the time young Harry was born, and we lost your ma.’

Will pauses, this time remembering Geillis, plump and motherly, always fussing about something, always simple and straight-forward, always loving. He sees in his mind’s eye her tangle of mousy-brown curls, her plain and practical clothes, her smooth skin too often pleated in frowns, her warm smile; hears once again her gurgling laugh.

Ach, so sad, to lose such a one. What a fool my brother Hendrie was … and he’s gone as well.

Will sighs, realises Jack is watching him with concern, and picks up his story.

‘So, anyway, this Conn, he stayed at Missy’s house in Fife for a while, fell in love with Sara, the Spanish lassie who was learning from Missy all about the natural remedies and so on, you know?’ He pauses again and glances at Jack, who nods.

Aye,Jack thinks,everyone knows about Aunt Missy’s weird passion for making lotions and potions, balms and salves, teas and tinctures, from flowers and herbs. Even weirder is that they always seemed to work!

‘So this Irishman, Conn?’ he prompts.

‘Och, it’s just that he set off on an adventure, like you’re doing. Walked out one summer’s morning … and we never saw him again. I wonder where he ended up? Good lad, quiet, musical – a bit like you … Mind you don’t disappear too, all right!’

With the quayside of Leith coming into view, Jack’s excitement bubbles inside him. His chin is up, his eyes are bright, he almost fizzes. Will stops before they get too close, understanding the embarrassment relatives can cause. He gives Jack his usual bear-hug.

‘Jack, I’ll miss you. Your aunt would be saying ‘Don’t go drinking and getting into fights!’’ Will laughs. ‘I know better than that, and I won’t even say ‘be good’ – but you be sure and stay safe, all right? And make the most of your adventure! Now be off with you!’

With one last hug, Jack tears himself away from his wise old uncle, swallows down the lump rising in his throat, and turns to face the Eagle. Sam Campbell is standing alongside, evidently looking out for him, waving and calling. With a hasty farewell – ‘Bye, Uncle Will – and thanks for everything!’ – Jack joins his friend and, for the first time, boards the Eagle.

Like her sister ship the Swan, and bearing an equally impressive figurehead, with curved beak and wings outspread, Eagle is a pear-shaped Dutch-built fluyt, typical of many of the ships leased by British companies. Swan carried colonists to the Americas, but Eagle is simply a merchant vessel, manageable by a small crew. Fitted out with far fewer arms and much less ammunition, she can carry twice the amount of cargo as those which double as warships – and more cargo means more cash. Another benefit is that the fluyt’s shallow draft allows the vessel to bring cargo down rivers and in and out of ports which other ships cannot reach. As soon as Jack has stowed his pack in the cramped crew quarters – and grinned delightedly over both the pack of food and the purse of money that Will tucked into the top – Sam loses no time in showing him everything he needs to know for his first day or so. Before they know it, the square-rigged three-master is out in the Firth of Forth, and Scotland diminishes first to a lump, then a line, then a dot on the horizon. Finally, it disappears entirely.

The next few days pass in a blur for Jack. As the newest recruit with absolutely no experience of sailing, it’s just as well that he’s quick to learn and to adapt – and that he’s a good judge of when it’s best to ask questions and when to keep his mouth shut. Already friends with Sam, Jack gets to know Sam’s friend Daan, a young Dutchman who has just two voyages under his belt. Daan is delighted not to be the least experienced crewman now that Jack has arrived. Together the three of them cope with the ribald humour, the profanities, and the harsh criticisms of some of the other crew members. But within a week, only the cook, inclined even on the best of days to be surly, still resents the newcomer’s presence. Jack is known to have been a baker, and for Cookie anything even vaguely resembling competition is intolerable. To enter the galley, even intending to help, is to enter a danger zone. Jack soon realises he must keep his distance, but in any case, he’s plenty busy enough elsewhere. By the time Eagle reaches the canals of Bruges, he’s found his feet and has adjusted to the rhythms of sailing.

Jack, Sam, and Daan are determined to make the most of their twelve hours shore leave in the quaint town. They admire the ornate houses lining the labyrinth of canals and peer up at the towering pinnacle of the belfry and carillon in the busy market square. Jack fingers some lace at one of the stalls, and the young saleswoman, bobbin in hand, seizes her chance. After a few minutes of conversation – during which neither Jack nor the girl understand a word the other says – he succumbs to her encouraging smiles and buys a length for Aunt Elspeth, stuffing it into his pocket. It’s not too long before, finding themselves outside one of the many inns, the trio sample the local cloudy wheat beer, and the strong malty ale made in the nearby Trappist abbey.

‘Mijn vader says Bruges was much more busy in de oude tijd, the old days,’ Daan tells them. ‘He was a zeeman, like me, but sailing uit Antwerp. He is saying that the Zwin channel here, it is filling with slib – the silt? – and soon it will not be possible. Antwerp is being more important now for the trade.’

‘But not as bonny?’ Sam suggests.

‘Ah, perhaps,’ Daan concedes. ‘You know the story behind the name Antwerp? No? It comes from a giant who lived by the river Schedlt and cut off the hands of the people who would not pay to go across. In the end, Brabo the hero, he killed the giant and threw his hand into the river.’

Seeing his companions’ puzzlement, he adds, ‘It is meaning ‘to throw’, in my language ‘hand werpen’ – Antwerp!’

Sam and Jack’s mocking laughter at this tall tale rings around the square, as Daan protests ‘But yes! I am not making it up you know!’

At their next port of call, Southampton, no one is allowed ashore, other than to off-load and re-load cargo. Master Flint is anxious to get across the Narrow Sea, so, to Jack’s regret, Eagle does not linger. He would have liked to look around. It was from this port, five years ago, that the Brownists left on the Speedwell and the Mayflower, bound for the New World. The pioneering Puritans come back into Jack’s mind some days later, as he enjoys a rare moment of solitude while Eagle passes between Quiberon and Belle-Île-en-Mer. They’ve been within sight of what Jack thinks of as ‘the real Atlantic’ for some time now.

To cross it, now that would be a huge adventure, Jack thinks to himself.