Inshore Squadron
Page 28
Against that, the price had been equally impressive, although far less remarked upon in press and Parliament. The British had lost more men dead and wounded than at the Nile. The Danes’ total casualties in killed, wounded and taken prisoner, quite apart from the destruction or capture of their ships, were three times as great.
Bolitho thought of the faces he would not see again. Veitch, who had gone down in his sloop-of-war Lookout, Keverne, killed in the last stages of the fight aboard his Indomitable. Peel of the Relentless, and so many more beside.
And now, while Herrick, soon to be joined at Plymouth by his wife, dealt with the damage to his own command, Bolitho and his nephew had come home.
The carriage started to move once more, downhill this time, the horses nodding their heads together as if aware that food and rest were drawing closer with each turn of the wheels.
Bolitho thought of Lieutenant Browne. After obtaining this carriage for the journey to Falmouth he had made his own way to London. Bolitho had made it perfectly clear to him. If he wished to return to his service when the Benbow was put back in commission he would be more than welcome. But if he chose another life in London, using his talents to better effect, that, too, Bolitho would understand. After such a baptism of fire and death, he doubted if Browne’s view of daily life would ever be the same again.
Two farm workers, spades over their shoulders, doffed their hats as the carriage rolled past.
Bolitho smiled gravely. The word would soon be round, the grey house on the headland would have lights in the windows tonight. A Bolitho was back again.
Pascoe said suddenly, “I never thought to see this place again, Uncle.”
He said it so forcefully that Bolitho was moved.
He answered, “I know that feeling, Adam.” He touched his arm. “We shall make the most of this stay.”
They spoke little for the last part of the journey. Bolitho felt unsettled, vaguely apprehensive as the wheels clattered on to the hard cobbles of the town.
He looked for familiar faces as they turned to watch the two sea officers being carried through the square. One so young, the other with the bright epaulettes on his shoulders.
A girl, shaking a tablecloth from an inn door, saw Allday and waved to him. Bolitho smiled. Allday at least was recognized, and welcome.
The road narrowed into a lane, lined on either side by mossy flint walls. Flowers barely moved in the warm air, and the grey house appeared to rise from the ground itself as the horses pounded up the last stretch towards the open gates.
Bolitho licked his lips as he saw Ferguson, his one-armed steward, running to meet the carriage, his wife close behind him, already crying with pleasure.
He steeled himself. The first moments were always the hardest, in spite of the warm welcome and good intentions.
“Home, Adam. Yours and mine.”
The youth looked at him searchingly, his eyes bright. “I want to talk about it, Uncle. All of it. After losing Relentless I don’t think I shall ever be so afraid again.”
Allday waved to some people by the gates, his face split into a grin. But he sounded serious as he said, “I still think it’s wrong and damn unfair, sir, an’ nothing will make me change my mind!”
Bolitho watched him wearily. “Why so?” He already knew, but it was better to let Allday get it out of his system so that he could enjoy their homecoming in his own way.
Allday gripped the door as the carriage swung round towards the stone steps.
“All them others, sir, getting the glory and the praise. But for you they’d have been wallowing in their own guts long since! You should have got a knighthood, an’ that’s no error!”
He looked at Pascoe for support. “Ain’t that right?”
Then he saw Pascoe’s expression and turned his head towards the doorway at the top of the steps.
Bolitho held his breath, barely able to trust his own senses.
She stood motionless, her slim figure and long chestnut hair framed against the house’s inner darkness, one hand held out towards him as if to consume the last few yards.
Bolitho said quietly, “Thank you, Allday, old friend, but now I know I have won a far greater reward.”
He climbed from the carriage and took her in his arms. Then, watched in silence by Pascoe and Allday, they walked into the house. Together.