Chapter Sixteen
The Isle of Dogs – Captain under deck – in search of Bats – vitalising rays – Mrs Whittaker, I presume
The Isle of Dogs is no island at all, but a part of London where the Thames curved around, creating a rough semicircle of land hemmed about by water. It was a place of docks and shipyards, factories and mills, a hub of transport and a hive of industry, full of busy people working to keep the wheels of commerce well-greased.
That, at least, is how Caxton had usually tended to view the place. This new expedition with Lord Decharles was shaking this mental picture. Here he was, surrounded by dozens of gawping idlers, all come out to see a full admiral and a squad of Royal Marines trooping down a manhole.
The Admiral didn’t seem to notice. One of the perks of a noble title
