liudmila511: переводы

→The character of Brian Doyle O'Dwyer is fictitious, but it is not inconceivable that someone very much like him could have existed. Charles the Second's leniency toward plausible rogues was a byword—hence his treatment of Colonel Blood following the theft of his crown jewels, to which Matthew refers, and his decision to award the command of a royal warship to Bartholomew Sharpe, a genuine 'pirate of the Caribbean'. Many European renegades (about 15,000 at any one time, in fact) served in the corsair fleets of the Barbary regencies of North Africa, and both the adventurous spirit and ferocious fighting qualities of the corsairs were legendary.

→My account of Tangier as a British colony is based on many sources, notably EMG Routh's venerable Tangier: England's Lost Atlantic Outpost. Fortunately, the seventeenth century River Gambia, along with its flora, fauna, social system and rumoured existence of gold mines or mountains, was described in great detail by several contemporary travellers: I relied especially on the accounts provided by Jean Barbot and Richard Jobson, published by the Hakluyt Society, together with the original manuscript journal of Holmes' first expedition and Zook's The Company of Royal Adventurers Trading into Africa.

→The comte d'Andelys sighed. He nibbled his lip, seeking the words with which to deliver the blow. 'Mon ami, he was not the one intended to father it.'

→On the horizon, two great Dutch Indiamen were sailing warily, no doubt glad to be well away from the French and English warships in their sights. I turned from them and gazed blankly at Roger. 'Why unlikely? It never seemed so likely to any of us that my brother could father a child.'

→'None of these things, alas, though not for want of trying on all our parts. For instance, your uncle still seeks the missing page of the parish register—it is said that the priest who conducted the marriage went into the Americas when your king returned, so even if he still lives, it will take many months to find him. Even then, of course, it might all be the pursuit of the goose, as you English say. Or perhaps he might choose not to reveal anything to agents of a king he regards as the Antichrist.' Roger shrugged, for the ways of our dissenting sects, and their very existence, were an oddity to him. And we have had no more good fortune with finding the lost daughter, although I undertook further rigorous inspections in the convents of Flanders.' I raised an eyebrow at that. 'But as to the most immediate and important matter—no, the Countess of Ravensden has no child. Those are the tidings, Matthew. The most unlikely tidings.'

→Tidings? My first thought was for Cornelia, but Roger had attached no sense of foreboding to her name—Then that other bottomless dread, the one that had consumed me since our departure from the mouth of the Gambia, overtook me. 'She has had a son,' I said, resignedly.

→'I thought not. It is why I—well, diverted my ship, let us say. I wished to intercept you. That you could hear the tidings from a friend rather from a letter at Falmouth or Plymouth.'

→'True, mon ami,' replied the comte, quite equably. 'But then, France has far fewer candidates for command than England, and with respect, you had less time at sea than I when you were given your first ship.'

→'You have this great ship,' I said, 'one of the greatest in the world. I have but a Fifth Rate frigate. And yet even you, mon ami, must confess that my experience at sea is rather greater than yours.'

→The captain's cabin aboard Le Téméraire bore more than a passing resemblance to the public salon in the Chateau d'Andelys, where the seventeenth Comte of that name held court. The deck was even adorned with an Indian rug. Amid these splendours, my old friend and I took wine, laughed (in due course) about the jest that he had played upon me, and looked out of his vast stern windows toward the Seraph. Relays of men were going between the two ships to exchange respects, officer to officer or mess to mess; John Treninnick was being feted with particular vigour for spotting that the proud captain strutting the quarterdeck of Le Téméraire was none other than the former messmate he had known as Roger Le Blanc. The proud captain himself was evidently relishing the opportunity to entertain his old friend aboard the great ship that he had commanded for some three months; but once the initial sense of shock subsided, I was consumed by an overwhelming feeling of jealousy.

→Polzeath grunted. 'Touched in the 'ead. Always said his days down the mines would take their toll on him one day.'

→The only talk came as we were almost in the shadow of the towering hull of Le Téméraire. Tremar pointed back toward Seraph and said, 'That's odd, Captain. Old Treninnick, up there on the main top. He's jumping up and down, and pointing at the Frenchie. I—I'd swear he was laughing, sir.'

→Carvell's crew contained other old friends, all normally happy to chatter to their captain for hours upon end. Now they rowed silently, Polzeath, Tremar, Macferran and the others, though all kept their stares intently upon me. I swore I saw a tear in Macferran's eye, though it might have been the spray.

→Only this last, the bluntest farewell of all, almost broke through the emotionless mask that I had donned. With that, I stepped off the Seraph, in my mind for the last time. Trying to avoid the eyes of my men, who lined the rail, I climbed down into the boat.

→A few minutes later, I said my farewells to my officers. These were brief, but a shake of the hand, for I had no inclination for tears, to which we English are ever too inclined. I made light of it all, saying that I would merely sample My Lord Montnoir's wine and return before the change of the watch. But when I looked into the eyes of each man of them, I knew I beheld the stares of men who are looking upon a dying friend for the last time. Kit gripped my hand tightly and promised we should meet again. Negus nodded grimly, for he, of all of them, was the most convinced that I was doing the right thing. Francis Gale said a quiet prayer over me. Musk simply said, 'And just what the hell do I tell your wife?'

→There were protests at this, none louder than from Kit and Musk. I quieted them. 'He wants me, I think. Me alone. Not you, not this ship. If I am right, all of you will have your lives and your honour, for only your captain will have been dishonoured by surrendering. If I am wrong—well, you are in no worse a state than you all expect to be in but shortly.'

→No. I would not be responsible for a slaughter that was truly pointless. One man, and one man alone, should and would face his maker this day. I turned to my officers and said, 'Mister Negus, Mister Farrell, we will heave to. Mister Carvell, you will prepare a boat's crew, if you please, to take me to the French ship. As soon as I am aboard, you will take command, Mister Negus, and make all sail away from her.'

→I looked about. The eyes of every man on the ship seemed to be upon me. I looked at the faces of my friends: Kit Farrell, determined and ready; Francis, preparing himself and everyone else for their imminent passage to eternity; Julian Carvell, cheerfully preparing to take as many Frenchmen as possible with him to Hell; Phineas Musk, complaining bitterly that he still had unfinished business to attend to ashore. The Cornish lads, and the London and Bristol boys, were to be united in death as they had not been united in life.

→There had been no word of a war from any of the myriad merchantmen we had encountered as we edged into the mouth of the Channel, but then, as Holmes and I had demonstrated so recently, wars were no longer commenced by the niceties of heralds in tabards reading out proclamations. Yet there was one thought more terrible than the possibility of being destroyed by this grim greyhound of the sea: the thought that induced the fear.

→My first duty as a king's captain should have been to make this impertinent Frenchmen strike to our monarch's flag, regardless of the disparity in size. But far from steering away and avoiding an unpleasant confrontation, as he could have done easily, this magnificent leviathan had deliberately turned toward the Seraph. Far from preparing to strike his topsails and ensign, he had put on more sail and raised at his staff by far the largest and most flamboyant white fleur-de-lis standard of the Bourbons that I had ever seen. This Frenchman sought an encounter with us.